Democratic Sentinel, Volume 9, Number 1, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 30 January 1885 — Page 6

PS»OBGIANA. rEATHEBSTOXHAUOH. | day's footsteps bright have vanished ftp the threshold of the eve, ,t the red light and the twilight dr pale tint* with moonbeams weave, lah. meet me! in the gloaming, uning, when the birds are flown, sweets will lose their rapt are en we both have older grown. ethe perfumed wings of zephyr iy the darkening lindens tall, the rose leaves red are sleeping earth sodden as they fall, ah, meet me. I’U be waiting, ting 'neath the lindens lone, i sweets will lose their rapture en we both hate older grown. »sunshine there is gladness. Hasting it may prove; lew’s something in the moonlight, ething subtle—is it love? Smeet me in the gloaming, the day with joy is sown, eets will lose their rapture re both have older grown. ing, 1 am watching; t yonr shadow fall s rose leaves in the moonlight ns but the lindens tall. ;, ah. meet me; night Is falling, ding o’er me here alone, n sweets will lose their rapture ten we both have older grown.

Undeceived.

H nstine Powers had never felt the ■ .e caused by labor nor the hardm ,tnd suffering entailed by poverty; 81*06 -would be quite sure, to see her ■Sb sat listlessly before the piano in Sp'ch and tastefully furnished apartK> i, that the thoughts of woe and Hpf never found even a transient Hh in her breast. But although K| and beautiful, and possessed of R luxury which money could purH , or a refined taste could contribH he imposed upon herself the duty Imping bear the burdens of her sex H yereless fortunate than' she, by Haling each day for t*he wants of Miuiihappy creature. For this purBpier trusty servant Peter was sent wlvery evening to investigate the Hwtion of such as were receiving her Hl&nce, or to discover new objects H&r generosity. At the time she is Hpht to our notice, her attitude ■Sites that she has beenrindulging Bp of those harmless reveries called Bmreams.” Her thoughts seem to Bipr far away from her surroundHmand even the crumpled letter B ijishe holds in her hand has appar■Kfeeased to excite her emotion. The BKr may, however, glance at this letRHit was written in a plain, schoolm land, and ran thus: ■ Kind Friend: Tho trouble you have ■rar taken in ray behalf causes mo to BHfpehefore acquainting you with what HEglroduoed my greatest, anxiety; but ns Hpquested mo to notify you in case anyBlsoccurred, and as you are my only ■ 1 in whom 1 can confide, I feel it my Bfo comply. The man who has so greatly ■ '\d me, and at whose door I lay all my ■l# and degradation, passod the house, ||l am living this morning. He has B fity discovered my whereabouts, for bo ■ 9.very hard at the windows, and will, I H? Use every means to frustrate my intenK Had he never treated me so cruelly, ■then left me to die alone, I could still Bp hiin; for, notwithstanding all the <li--B Te has cau-ed, the vision of iiappy inoE a still haunts the vacant chambers of ■ art. What his object miy be in seokB a out I cannot say. He may fear I will Bfer his true name, for I am sure ho Bygaso of a fictitious one, and discloso his H jpnduct, but this I will never do. ■ gpould only go away from here, I think BjM be happy, but 1 am so weak that I m orcely move. B at shall I do? Cannot you, my good RB| advise me? I am to entirely alone, numble friend, Mary. Bgs Powers had read this letter an Hf)? do previous to our introduction H %_ but £oy she egeiped to have lost ■ |&rest in iis contents. I S Se - n s&' a servant entered bearing ■ I wbiich he handed to his mistress, ipfe.. Wafltser, ” -she muttered half i£ liim in, William.” A ■ filt.later Mr. Waltser was ushered Rle room. His appearance was K;ff a man aboiit Six and twenty, alkvfct handsome, but with a face Ifwith intelligence and a tall, wellIfffrrticmed frame. As his eyes met B» of Mias Powers his countenance BHj told the admiration with which Rigarded hgr, 1m inmost bou! Itled Sipressed m that one Took. “I RSbrought you,” he said, after a mo-ilfjß'-pauae, “some money your father Kps ted me to hand you. He also i |d me to ask, now that Peter is ill, »s>uld be 6f any assistance by acEmmying you on your visit to that ■Marl, of whom you spoke to him HEorning?” jßpr thoughtful papa is,” interruptBpeigirl; “and lam sure it is very jg> |ol, you, Mr. Waltser, to consent to 1 aar me such a service. lam quite H fptt you did not understand this was 1 H^ art your duty when you enHitthe banking house of Powers, & Oo.”

Byonng man was about to make lliama.k expressing his willingness I'"litertake the mission with so agree--1 Hpcompanion, when he was interMpd by the entrance of a servant Eng the card of Mr. Nathan Fargßptr. Powers’ partner in business, Rood afternoon, Miss Powers,” exiEed that gentleman a moment later, ■go* indeed happy to see you Pfng 60 much better than 11were yesterday. Ah! good afterm, Mr. Waltser,” for the first time gtolhK in the direction of his em--1%, “you have left the offioe rather Eihis afternoon.” Ip was to deliver a message from Mr. filers,” expi ined the clerk. | §£ea," added Mies Powers, “Mr. § Jtser has come to offer me his serv--fby accompanying me on a visit of [Vy this afternoon.” I IVh 1* and Nathan Farlow's face lost ijeasant expression. “I should like tier my assistance if I could hope to ||l‘tkat confidence which Mr. Waltser jpg t° have inspired.” IjyiiT. Nathan jr exclaimed Miss Pow- > Pi always imagined you would much Ipeg be at your club than wading filthy streets and tenements in llbh of worthy destitutes. But if you gpd really l.ke to accompany me, I §§dd be so happy to have yon go to KM/ ami her face lighted np with I ■

The other part of the question she seemed either not to desire to answer, perhaps, on account of its delicate nature, or else had forgotten it, at least it went unanswered. During this conversation Waltser had remained a quiet spectator. Several times he attempted to say that, since his services would not be required, he had better hasten back to the office, but on each occasion he was interrupted. Now, however, he embraced the opportunity, and was soon on his way down town. t When Augustine and Farlow were left alone, the conversation turned upon matters which more nearly concerned their personal affairs and prospects. For it must be known that Nathan was Miss Powers’ affianced, and their marriage was to take place at no distant day. That the only child of that proud aristocrat, Schuyler, Powers should marry a man of Nathan Far low’s wealth and social position seemed but natural. Mr. Farlow was what would be termed “a man of the world;” handsome in appearance and fascinating in manner, he had gained the purest affeotions of this lovely girl, and as they conversed together on this bright autumn afternoon, no one could doubt the depth of her feeling. Once during the conversation, when Miss Powers reverted to the sad case of the young girl they were about to visit, and pictured the crudl treatment and misery she had endured, a keen observer might have noticed a flush pass over the handsome face of Farlow, which deepened perceptibly when she expressed her sympathy for the poor creature, and her contempt for the man who had sa*basely deceived her.

Just previous to their intended departure, Farlow gazed anxiously at his watch, and then, as if a sudden thought Btruck him, said; “I am sorry, Augustine, that it will be impossible for meHo accompany you to-night. I have an important engagement, which I had entirely forgotten; you must defer your visit until to-mor-row, when I shall be glad to assist you in doing so good a work.” With reluctance the young girl promised to comply with his request, and neglect what she knew to be, her present duty. After some further conversation upon general topics, Farlow bade her an affectionate adieu. He had scarcely left the room when a servant entered with a note addressed to Miss Powers. The handwriting was the same as that received a few honrs previous, although it was written by a weaker and far more unsteady hand. It contained the following: My Very Kind Friend: If you can conveniently, pleaso do como and sec me. I have grown so much worse since morning, and I fear a sad and miserable life will 6oon bo endod. You are the only friend I have in the world. Do not deny my last request. Mary. Miss Powers had no sooner finished reading this note than her course was decided upon. Wurely, thought she, Nathan will not object to my responding to so earnest an appeal as this. I will send immediately for Waltser and get him to accompany me. A few lines were hastily sent to tho lodgings of Mr. Powers’ employer, and were as hastily answered by the clerk in person. After explaining her object Miss Powers excused herself for a moment, and soon reappeared attirod' for the street.

It was almost dark when they reached the lower part of the city. Men, women, and children were hurrying along, shopkeepers were commencing to “light up, and all the confusion and din of a great thoroughfare sounded in their ears. Presently they turned into a side street, and then into another, the filthy condition of which plainly indicated the poverty of the neighborhood. At last they halted in front of a large tenement, around which a dozen or more half-clad and dirty children were at play. Into this house they entered and ascended its gloomy staircase. At the fourth floor they paused a moment, and Miss Powers scrutinized the passageway, as if in doubt which door to enter, when they heard angry sounds come from one of the rooms near at hand. Anxious to shield the delicate ear of Miss Powers from such harsh language, Waltser hastened along the passage, but when he reached the door of the room from which the sounds came, he hesitated a moment, as though he recognized the voice within, then, casting a hurried glance 1 , iu the direction of his companion, passed on as if unwilling to have her understand the cause of his hesitancy. The sounds from the room became louder and more distinct as Miss Powers approached the door. She stopped, looked steadfastly at the door an instant, then stood as if riveted to the spot.

“Ah 1” said the person inside, whose voice was that of a man speaking in great passion, “so after offering you money, a comfortable home, and everything, you still refuse, do you ? I should like to take yon by the hair of your head and pull you out of that bundle of rags. ” And he seemed to move toward the object of his fury as if abont to execute his wish. “Oh, William, don’t, please, don’t,” E leaded a female voice. “I shall leave ere soon enough, and will want neither your money nor your home. Homo!” she repeated, half sarcastically, “you took me from the only home I ever had.” “Well,” said he, “that is immaterial now. I tell you, you must leave here to-night, and the sooner the better, and be sure no traces of your intended whereabouts are discovered. I don’t want that fool of a girl hunting you up again. ” “Oh, William," returned the other, “don’t say that! She has been so kind to mel” “Kind! She’s a little fool, ” retorted the man; “but I did not come here to talk about her. You mus,t be got out of here before to-,morrow, dead or alive. I will go now and call a carriage.” “Oh, please, spare me!” pleaded the other, in a weak voice. “Before to-mor-row my spirit will be far away ; then you can do what you choose with my body.” , , ‘ ypn can’t deceive me,” replied the wan. “Do you think I want my uff irs repeated to such silly fool aa.tlm MUi Po«era must b •?’’ Saving thu be moved hastily toward the door, ***** flashed amh

i f the cold, scornful glance of Augustine Powers. He staggered back a moment, then stepped forward, and would have hurried past her, but she stood in the doorway and prevented his passage. Then summoning all her courage, and with a look of infinite disdain, she took him hy the coat sleeve and led him to the bedside of the dying girl. AH throngh this scene the oecupant of the room, who was none other than the unfortunate Mary, gazed vacantly around as if bewildered by what had transpired. Then, as if suddenly recalling her senses, she seemed to compre bend the question Miss Powers was about to ask. “No, no! my dear Miss Powers, this is not the qipn I spoke of. He never treated me tfikindly. Did you, William? You would never desert your little Mary. You said so, William?” She was evidently fast failing. “William,” she murmured, holding out her thin white hand toward him, “they shall never say that you deceived me. He would never deceive me.” She grasped his hand tightly, and added, in half broken whispers: “I hope God will forgive me for all the wrong I have done. Heaven bless yon, William.” These were the last words she uttered. In a few seconds she was a corpse. For a moment all remained quiet as the grave. Then, as if moved by a sudden impulse, Farlow made one dash for the door, and ran hastily down stairs and into the street. The Powers family never saw him after that night. Through his attorney he withdrew his interest in the firm of Powers, Farlow & Co., and it was understood that he had gone abroad. Miss Powers, after making provision, as well as her condition would allow, for the burial of her dead friend, was taken with a severe fit of illness which lasted many months, and, the physicians say, was caused by extreme nervousness. Many years after might have been seen, in one of the daily papers, the notice of the marriage of Augustine Powers, daughter of Schuyler Powers, to James Waltser, of the firm of Powers, Waltser & Co.

The Sun’s Supply.

From an article on “The Sun’s Energy,” by S. P. Langly, in the Century, we quote the following: “How is the heat maintained ? Not by the myracle of a perpetual self-sustained flame, we may be sure. But, then, by what fuel is such fed ? There can be no question of simple burning, like that of coal in the grate, for there is no source of supply adequate to the demand. The State of Pennsylvania, for instance, is underlaid by one of the richest coal fields of the world, capable of supplying the consumption of the whole country at its present rate for more than a thousand years to come. If the source of the solar heat (whatever that is) were withdrawn, and we were enabled to carry this coal there and shoot it into the solar furnace fast enough to keep up the known heat supply, so that £he radiation would go on at just its actual rate, the time which this coal would last is easily calculable. It would not last days or hours, but the whole of these coal beds would demonstrably be used up in rather less than one-thou-sandth of a second! We find by a similar calculation that if the sun were itself one solid block of coal, it would have burned out to the last cinder in less time than man has certainly been on the earth. But during historic times there has as surely been no noticeable diminution of tlie sun’s heat, for the olive and the vine grow just as they did 8,000 years ago, and the hypothesis of an actual burning becomes untenable. It has been supposed by some that meteors striking the solar surface might generate heat by their impact, jnst as a cannon ball fired against an armor plate causes a flash of light, and a heat so sudden and intense as to partially melt the ball at the instant of concussion. This is probably a real source of heat supply as far as it goes, but it cannot go very far; and, indeed, if our whole world should fall upon the solar surface like an immense projectile, gathering speed as it fell, and finally striking (as it wonld) with the force due to a rate, of over three hundred miles a second, the heat developed would Bupply the sun for but little more than sixty years, ”

Longevity in the Cyclades.

We came to a low, whitewashed cottage, whore lives, high up on the mountain top, a tottering old man, ninetyfive years of age. He looks after a small gaaden, and whenever he wants anything he walks into Hermoupolis to do his shopping. Onr muleteer called him out and he came to welcome us; he was full of stories about the wonderful change* he had seen during his long eventful life; how he had fought for his country’s liberties; how lie had assisted in building the first for the refugees down by the harbor. When we left him, I asked onr muleteer if people frequently lived to be so old at feyra. “Yes,” was the reply, “an old woman died at 130 only a short while ago; in former years people lived so long that the aged had to be thrown down a mountain cLiff, which is still called Gerousi." This tradition of longevity in Syra is curious, and more especially so in connection with the slaughter of the aged. On the neighboring island of Koes it is well known that the old and useless members of society were obliged to swallow hemj lock when a certain age was reached. The Abbe della Rocca, one of the ■ Roman Catholic brethren in Syra, writj ing a centnry ago, tells us of the same | tradition existing then about the great I age and general healthiness of the Syriotes. Homer gives us the following testimony: There in the city, void of pain and fears. They rtwel r, and even as they wax In years Apollo coming with luh silvery bow Aim* with his sister th>; light-feathered spears Against them, and the sweet.life fades like snow. — Macmilan's Magazine.

The reputed site of the Garden of Eden, at the junction of the Tigris and Euphrates is now a sterile tract, where the onl/vegetable life consists of a clump of date trees near a very small and dirty villago called Gurana, at whioli the Turks maintain a garrison and a telegraph office. The inhabitants point out to stranger* the tree of knowledge—a moat sickly ’‘peciraen, bearing a small green berry which would eanso

The Lime-Kiln Club.

As the meeting opened there was * strong smell of burning meat in the hall, and the echoes of the triangle had scarcely died away when Elder Toots made a break for the door in a way to upset half a dozen different members, and bring down another large piece of plaster from the ceiling. He had gone to sleep with his foot on the hot stove to thaw ont the chilblains. They had thawed, and the heat had worked down through five years’ layers of cement and got at the real flesh. When the excitement had been allayed, and the keeper of the outer door had reported that the Elder was down in the alley with both feet in a barrel of ice-water. Brother Gardner said:

“When I find a sober, industrious workingman who am out o’ work I am gwine to reason dat it am de nateral consequence of de gineral depreshun in bizness. When'l find dat same pusson in want o’ bread I am gwine to ax him sartin queshuns. I want to know what he did wid his wages. If he libed as became a man aimin’ $2 per day, I want to know why he hasn’t sunthin’ laid up. If he earned $2 per day and jibed at de rate of $25 per week, I lias no furder use fur him.

“Each winter we li’ar dis cry of charity. Each winter de man who lias managed to save up a leetle am told dat it am his solemn dooty to hand a part of it ober to charity. We am not to ax men and women whether they worked or idled de summer away; whether deir airnin’s went for luxuries or necessities; whether they spent wid a free hand or denied demselves a single thing. If de sales of beer an’ tobacco depended on de rich an’ moderately well-off de bizness would decrease twothirds. If our summer excursion boats depended on de same classes dev couldn’t run. If our street-cars had no other patrons dey would stop deir trips. Our circuses an’ theaters are supported by de workin’ classes. Our toy stores an’ bazars make few sales to de rich.

Nineteen out of twenty of our work-ing-men use ebery dollar of deir wages from week to week, an’ not one laborer in fifty am satisfied to lib on his airnin’s. De rich practice economy; de poor waste an’ destroy. In my humble cabin we practice economy. We remake an’ remodle. We color over old clothes, an’ peel de ’taters hlose. If I airn seben dollars a week we stop when we hev spent six. When de fall eands an’ winter comes we has sunthin’ laid up. Does dat sunthin’ belong to us, who have pinched an’ planned an’ saved, or to charity—which means de man who has idled half his time away, an’ had his tobacco and beer regularly—which means de woman who has dressed in cashmere when she orter hev dressed in ealiker—which means de fam’ly who has had oysters on Sundays when I had co’n beef. I ax no man to close his heart or purse agin honest people who hev met wid bad luck, but de socalled eharity of to-day am a premium 011 idleness and extravagance—an aid in maintainin’ a class of leeches who have neither shame industry nor gratitudie.”—Free Press.

Hawthorne and Emerson.

In Mrs. Hawthorne’s letters to> her mother there is a sketch of her husband’s ways which is too good not to be quoted. She says: “Mr. Hawthorne’s abomination of visiting still holds strong, be it to see no matter what angel. Bat he is very hospitable, and receives straagers with great loveliness and graciousness. Mr. Emerson says his way is regal, like a Prince or General, even wliea at table he hands the the bread. Elizabeth Hoar remarked that, though his shyness was very evident, yet she liked his manner, because he always faced the occasion like a man when it came to the point.. Of what moment will it be, a thousand years hence, whether he saw this, or that person? If he had the gift of speech like some others—Mr. Emerson, for instance—it would be different, but be was not bom to mix in general society. His vocation is to observe, and not to be observed. Mr Emerson; delights in him;: he talks to Urn all the time, and Mr. Hawthorne looks answers. He seems to fascinate- Mr. Emerson. Whenever he comes to see him he takes him away, so> that no one may interrupt him in his close and dead-set attack upon his ear; Miss Hoar savs that persons about Mr. Emerson so generally echo him. that it is refreshing to him to find this perfect individual, all himself and nobody else. He loves power as little as anybody I ever knew;, and it is never a question of private will between us, but of absolute right. His conscience is too fine and high to permit him to be arbitrary. His will is strong, but not to govern others. He is so simple, so transparent, so just, so tender, so- magnanimous, that my highest instinct could only correspond with his will. I never knew such delicacy of nature. His panoply of reserve is a providential shield and breastplate. I can testify to it now as I could not before. He is completely pure from earthliness. Hb is under the dominion of his intellect and sentiments. Was ever such a union of power and gentleness, softness and spirit, passion and reason ? I think it mnst be partly smiles of angels that make the air and light so pleasant here.”

The Quicker the Better.

She had named Friday of the following week as the day for her wedding. “But Friday is an unlucky day,” said George. “Oh, so it is!” she exclaimed; “I had forgotten that. No, it wouldn’t do to be married on Friday.” “How would Saturday or Monday do?" suggested George, tenderly. The girl hesitated and blushed a little. Then she said: “I—l think Thursday would be better, George.” —Detroit Post. Massachusetts has a rival in the number of marriageable women. Paraguay has only 30,000 men to 270,000 women, a veritable woman’s kingdom. The men sit at home drinking and smoking, and thd women are the farmers, producers, and workers. Michigan farmers are thinking that beef pays better than wheal Fxioo claims to liave gained 1,000

HUMOR.

The pripo of wi-iting paper is going np. We'always thought it was station ery. American young ladies who have been abroad as -ert that it is dreadfully hard to find an honest Cou i, Frooleo croquets are a late thing at fashionable restaurants. There will be many a craok ate in this way. “Mr. Smith, do you dye yonr hair ?” asked the small boy. ' “No; why do you think so?” “O, I -dnnno, only "it’s black, and sister said she reckoned you was bom light-headed.” Too cautious: He—l am going to take away a "bottle of salt-water as a memento of this watering-place. She —But don’t fill it too full, or it will slop over on us when the tide comes in. American renovators now undertake to repair garments and sew on buttons. An unmarried man can now meet a Vassar College girl daring leap-year without dodging into a barber-shop. “Is it cold up your way?” was asked of a man from fifty miles north of St. Paul. “Well, I should say it was. We had to give the stove four doses of quinine yesterday to keep it froin shaking the lids off. ” “Can you tell me; sir, ” asked a young lady at a book shop, “in what order Thackeray wrote his books?” “No, lady,” replied the gentlemanly salesgentleman; “but, don’t yer know, I guess it was in order to make money. ”

NO LONGER. No longer does the"boy In slxady brooklets swim. Nor seeks the maiden coy The goldeqrod so prim. He to his sorrow learns The way to back; She simply sits and yearns For that lovely sealskin saoque. A lover thus wrote to his sweetheart, whose name was Bain: Whilst shivering beaux at mothers rail. Of frost and snow, and wind and hail. And heat and cold complain, My steadier mind is alwltys bent * On one side object of content, I ever wish for rain! Hymen, thy votary’s prayers attend. His anxious hope and suit befriend. Let him not aßk in vain: His thirsty soul, his parched estate. His glowing breast commiserate. In pity give him rain I

He considered it a parental duty to see that his daughter kept only tho very best - marriageable company. “Mary,” said her father, “you have been going with that Mitchell fellow for more than a year now. This courtship must come to a termination.” “O, pa, how can you talk so? He is, O, so sweet and nice.” “Ah,” and the fond father arched his eyebrows. “Sweet and nice, eh ? Has he proposed ?” “Well, pa, not exactly,” and the girl hung her head down and fingered tho drapery on her dress. “He didn’t exactly propose, but, then last evening, when we were out walking, we- passeij by a nice little house, and he said, * That’s the kind of a cottage I am going to live in some day,’ and I said, ‘Yes,’ and then he glancedat me and squeezed my hand. Then just as we got by I glanced back at the house, and —and— I squeezed his hand, pa.” “O, ah, I see. Well, we’ll try him another week or two.”

THE OLE> GOLDEN DUCAT.. How dear to- his heart Is that yellow-backed bank- book His busted condition recalls to his view. The pages all dog-eared; the general lank look; The money has left it save ducats but two! ‘ Ah, many’s the time he has drawn from Its pages And spreed with the principal;, interest as well! But now there Is left him in long r after ages Two old golden ducats that cling to .the Bwell. Those bilious old ducats, those olipt-edged ducats, Those old. golden ducats that cling to the swell. —Life.

Henry Clay’s Favorite Dishes.

“I want to- tell you,” said; the superannuated restaurateur, “of Henry Clay. Perhaps you never heard, of what an eater he was. Well, I can say. that I knew Mr. Clay a great many years, because I waited on him bpfrh. at the National Hotel and at Hancock’s restaurant, as well as a good; many other places.. Mr. Clay was. a great lover of broiled oysters and baked pumpkins. He could eat more than* any man I evdr see. Perhaps you don?t know that Mr. Clay used to eat butter on, his watermelons? Well, lie did.. I remembervery wall that on a certain day when, there- was a great many famous men at the table, including Mr. Corwin, Calhoun, and Gen. Carey, of Michigan* Mr. ©lay had his watermelon set out before Mm. He said: ‘Now, gentlemen,. you have before you the most magnificent product off the vegetable kingdom. Now, here is the most magnificent product of the animal kingdom —butter.’ Well, sir, Mr. Clay pror eeeded to butter his watermelon,, and he put butter on thick, and I can say that he did not stop at one slice, in fact, he did not stop at four or five slices of buttered watermelon, every time they pnt watermelon on the table. But I can say thai hone of tho other gentlemen ever followed his advice. One of Mr. Clay’s friends, a Kentucky Colonel, tried it once, but yon ought to see him lay it down real quick. No, sir, I never see nobody else *bept Mr. Clay take te buttered watermelon.”— Washington Cor. Philadelphia Press.

A Soft Answer.

A small, ragged urchin was observed by a philanthropic gentleman on Howard street, grinding his knuckles into his eyes and howling dolefully. “What is the matter, my boy?” “Feller pasted me in the snoot.” “What did you do to him “Nothing, sir. I am a good little boy, and goes to Sunday school, and the teacher sez, ‘remember, boys, a soft answer tumeth away wrath,’ and when I steps on the fellers corns, and he gets wratby, I jest sez the softest thing 1 •could think of, and calls him a dude, and he np and shagged me!” '“Bless my soul!” exclaimed the old gentleman, aghast, when, suddenly abandoning bis whimper, the urohin ont a caper on the pavement, put bifingers to his nose, gave utterance to an ecstatie “sold again!” and darted swiftly down an alley. —Boston Globe.

Chinese “Slicing.”

In China parricides and matricides are executed by the “alicing" proves . Alfc* r a criminal has gone through tbit Operation he reeombles a dog that hat nosed his wgy through an active auu

A CELEBRATED CASE.

The Crouch Murder—A Concise History of Michigan’s Dark Tragedy. Jaoob D. Crouch went from New York gtate many years ago to Michigan, and there engaged in fanning near Jackson. He prospered in ail his enterprises, and amassed a large fortune. Besides his farm, which was one of the largest and best in the State, he owned exten ive tracts of land In Texas, and was largely interested in stock raising, both In the West and here. About twenty-five years ago his wife died, leaving an Intant girl named Eunice. Besides this ohild there were three sons and a daughter. The latter had already been married to Daniel Hotoomb, and lived on the latter s farm, adjoining that of her father. Jndd Crouch, then a mere boy. lived wjth Mrs. Holcomb. De was a cripple, and for many years was not exj ected to live, but while with his sister his father paid for his care. The two other sons. Byron Sad William, were in Texas, superintending the estate there, in which both were Interested. The Holcombe did not prosper. Mortgages and debts accumulated, and when compromises could not be made they wonld appeal to Mr. Crouch for assistance Many times he gave them large sums of monev. Onoetbev presented him with a bill for $10,1 0 » for supporting Jndd from lnfanoy, and when, after some high words, he paid It, he threatened them with disinheritance. The old man, ss the years crept upon him. grew morose and gloomy. He lived in his great house alone with his daughter and the servants. For several years when she was away at college he was quite alone, and was seen but rarely. On her return a tew years ago, a beautiful and accomplished girl, she introduced some life Into the old home, and, »s her father was in failing health, Bhe took upon herself the duty of attending to his correspondence and keeping bis books. In the course of time Eunice was wooed and won bv Henry White, a young business man of Jackson, and Mr. Crouch consented to their union on the promise that they would live with him. This was assented to, and White took np his residence at the Crouch homestead. During the last year of his life Crouch frequently talked of his Oraslness affahs in the presence of the Holcombs and his daughter Eunice. It was understood that before long he would call his heirs together and divide hie property between them. He did not wish tw make aaavlll, and. he thought it would be more satisfactory all around to dispose of the property by deed. For some reasoh, however, this* was postponed from time to time. Presently there came a prolonged quarrel between the old gentleman and the Holcombs over the settlement of some of their indebtedness. He held several of thair notes and a mortgage or two on their property, which the understanding was should be deducted from their share in the estate when the time for settlement should arrive. On the morning of Nov. 22, Bolles, a little negro boy, who was employed about the houge, ran to a neighboring fanner's, and, almost speechless with fright, said that Mr. Crouch had been murdered. Hurrying to the house, tho neighbors discovered Mr. Crouch dead in his bed with a bullet hole in hie temple. In the spare room, adjoining, was found the dead body of Moses Polly, a cattle buyer f ora M6rcer County, Pennsylvania, who had accepted the hospitality of the Crouches for the night, and had lost his life in consequence. He also had been shot in the head. Both men lay in their beds as if they had never moved after receiving their death wounds. Going into the apartments occupied by Eunice and her husband the young couple were also found dead. White had received but one wound, like the others, but Eunice was shot four times, twice in the head aad twice In tne body. The negro boy and the servant girl, who slept in another part of the house, were closely cateohised, and both adfnitted that they heard the shooting, but declared they were' paralyzed with fright and were unable to move until daylight. Although there was little reason to believe them guilty they were placed under arrest. A hasty search of the house revealed the fact that nothing had been taken but the blue and gold box on the whatnot, although there was over SI,OOO in money in the house' and much valuable jewelry. The night on which the murder was perpetrated was one that had been waited for. It was of inky darkness and a fur.ous rain-storm prevailed. The wind blew almost with the violenoe of a tornado, and the noise made by the warring . elements was such as to serve a murderer’s purpose well. Nobody would be on the highway on such a night, and the sound of a revolver shot would be drowned Instantly by the tumult of the winds. There was one footprint, however, which the rain did not obliterate. Under a window en the west side of the house was the mark of a rubber boot or shoe, showing that somebody had! stood there and watched while the murderer was at his work Inside. Everything, connected with the case indicated that the murder had been done by somebody familiar with the house and the habits of Its occupants. Without doubt the guilty parties knew where the servants slept, for after the shooting they opened the stair door and listened. Had the servants-made the least sign of wakefulness they, too, would have been slain. Suspicion attached to the Holcombs, though no arrests in that quarter were made.' It was found that a man in Holcomb’s employ, .named Foy. had a pair of rubber boots which fitted the track made by the window. - Mrs. Holcomb took to her bed after the murder*and refused to see auy one, but her deposition was taken soon afterward. She admitted that' Halcombhad got np in the middle, of the night to go out and shut the barn door, which was slamming, but denied that be was- absent long. Byron Crouch come home from Texas and 1 remained a few weeks, returning then to hkt. ranch, after putting the Pinkertons to work on the case. Soon after his departure foi home Mrs. Holcomb was iortnd dead in . beck under circumstances indicating that she had oommltted suicide, but, after an invest! gation* the coroner’s jury found that, her death was oaused by heart disease. At the inquest In thocase of the Crouch murders, which dragged along most of the winter,, the only Important evidence introduced was that of a hardware-dealer in Jackson,, who testified that several weeks bofore tho tragedy Daniel Holcomb purchase ! of him o 38-oallber revolver. This was-the size of tho-pistol with 1 which the shooting had been done. Holcomb - denied that he ever, owned a revolver of any i kind, and positively swore that he bad never ; been in the hardware store spokemot ; A close surveillance, however* wus kept on 1 Holcomb and Jndd Crouch, and detectives hung about the old homestead with greatupersistence. Several amateur detectives busied themselves en the case, and some of them wene< threatened ; by the hired man Four and by Judd; Crouch. One day For went, to Union City with the fn--1 tention of killing D. J. F.a-ton. editor of the 1 A* eg inter, but mistaking Elmer,Shules to be the I gentleman lor whom he was searching, shot and j dangerously wounded him. Foy then returned home’ and lay down on a lounge*, where he waa. afterward found- dead with a pistol by his side and a wound imbiis head. Physicians testified, upon the bolding of an< invest gation into the mattor, that it was Impossible that Foy had committed suicide, audi the jury rendered a decisiomin accordance with* their testimony. This tragedy was followed:in a few days by a> murderous attack ou DetecUve Brown. who was at work on the'ease. One night Mr. Brown was. riding along the highway netr the place where the murder was commit ted,when ho was stopped, by two men, one of whom inquired: “Is yourname Brown?" Beceivinma reply in the affirmative, the-spoaker drew a - revolver and firod, the. ball taking effect in Brown's thigh and causing a badi wound. The twio men then tied) andi Brown made his way to Horton, from which, place h»-telegraphed to Jackson charging Judd Crouch with the attempt upon his life and demanding bis arrest. The demand was, complied with and the prisqner was arraigaed and released on bail. On March 1, Judd Cranob.and Daniel Holcomb were arrested charged with the murder of Jacob D. Crouch. After a preliminary trial they were > dmitted to bail In s2o,puo each. On the ‘filth of March,Lorenzo D. Beaux.a former who became lnsane on tho ilHt from, brooding over the murder, died after seven days of terrible suffering, and an April 13, A. H, Log*, who imagined himself bhe murderer of the Croueb fonjily, committed* suicide. On th*2£d:of April Joseph Allen was arrest! d in Canada ot arged with being the prineip *1 m the Crouch murder, but was soon after'released. Tne-case was called In May, 1884, but adjournments, tedious examinations, and cross-examinations of witnesses, the elaborate arguments, of oonnsel, and other matters have delayed tho verdict, which was not rendeeod till the sccoad week in January.—New York Herald.

A WisoOKsm farmer who buried SSOO in. an oyster can has taken fcho nu recognizable pulp that remains to Washington, to try and have it redeemed. The Treasury experts were unable to identify any of die notes, and the fanner wifi have to appeal-te Congress, and exercise more judgment! in future. 4 A little gW at Wind Gap, Pa., has ears that are bent forward’and grown fast to the face. She is bright and her hearing is very acute. Gov. of Maine, is an advocate at