Democratic Sentinel, Volume 14, Number 35, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 26 September 1890 — Page 6

IHT7 BAT. BY OZIAB MIDBUM HEY The way of life is dark enough. Its rugged heights are »orn xnd rough; Its turbid stream ■with sullen flow Bath much debris, enough of woe, Without “they say." Its eyes have full enough of tears. Its hearts are burdened now wiih fears; Its hopes are trembling in lhe scales. Its courage falters, sia gers, foils, Without "they say." Its trials scarcely can lie borne, Its Lest is sadly tattered, torn ; Its brightest is a dark- ned gloom, Its sweetest is the blight of bloom, Without “they say." Its happy thoughts have much of drrad. Its comfort otherwise instead; Its gladness brims with dread alloy. Its sighs have little place ior joy. Without ithey say.” Its smiles are full of bitter frowns, Its budding prospec s s- re with wounds; Its joyful hours are thinly strewn, Its exjw>ctations wither soon, Without “they say." Its disappointments gather fast, Its doublings breathe a scorching blast; Its failures mount and higher crow. Its sadner-s wnils forever, “Oh!" Without “they say." Its cares are filled with bitter gall, Its burdens never leave at all; Its trials come, are - ver nr ar. Its worries never dis ippear, Without “they say." May we therefore hence ever do What we will henceforth never rue. Eschew “they say," thus ever live To gladness, joy and comfort give, Without “they say.” Chicago, 111.

BERENICE ST. CYR.

A Story of Love, Intrigue, and Grime.

BY DWIGHT BALDWIN.

CHAPTER V. STRICTLY CONFIDENTIAL.

ELP yourselves /fy'/l' 1° ebnits, fcentlemen,” said Bears, with what was meant to be a / RkN ylunsh, but which y\ ! ’wp / sounded more \_zjy like a R r oan, as ( I be seated himlink self upon aboard. Ilvlfflh/OilA “Your apartrlSw' $ A? ment * 8 not a ver Y 'J|WO7 '7£\ e l®>-' Hnt one,"repied Morrisey yWwjgffiA "Eh, Bloom?” "No,” respondec* th® third man, “ but it's quiet. Sy ' \ nn d our business ’ 8 strictly ccnfiaMT IsKWT den t ial. ” W'A With this, a > Bloom seated his UWf) heavy form upon \ Vrl / th® box which / L ft concealed our Zw] /. V I h° ro w *th a vior V w I® BC ® that threat- ' / ened the destruc- > tion of the lid. g “Now the whole " story." said Mor-

ris. 'lf I’m to become ft member o f the triangle, as you coll it, I want the bottom facts. " 'But you know ’’ “Next to nothing. I know that you and Martin Bloom, here, came to me at. midnight last night and proposed a scheme for half a million or so. You had located the bonds purchased by the First National Bank for St. Cyr last week. I agreed to negotiate them, though if will be risky busitfess, and you undertook to produce them. Besides doing that you seem to have killed the old man. ” “Don’t affect innocence, Max. That was part of the original plan, and yon are as deep in the mud as we are in the mire. I hate hypocrisy." “Not more than I, so toll what you’ve done, and what the chances for detection are. ” 'There is no danger. After I left you I struck an idea—an inspiration.' »*I judged, so since the papers announce that the police know the perpetrator to be one Cole Winters, with whom I have a slight acquaintance.” The man smote his thigh and laughed coarsely, though »t the tame time he took care to modeiate his voice. “Yes, but the burden fell on him through the merest accident." “How so?” “He rescued Berenice " “I lead nil about it.” “The old man took him home, and, in any hearing, told him that the bonds were in the safe. Then he engaged him to ■care for his property during the prospective absence of himself and daughter in ■Europe." “Quite providential.” “Id crown all, he presented him with a ring which he had worn for more than twenty years, and invited him to pass the ■night in the house.” “/nd the inspiration?" “Was the ring." “I don’t see " “This morning it was found in the ■death-locked hand of the old man." “You’re a genius, Al! But tell me all about it.” “After we left you last night, we went •at once to Calumet avenue, where I entered the house by means of keys with which I was shrewd enough to provide myself months aeo. We found the old man still in the library, and—don t say there’s nothing -n luck after this—actually eng a ed in looking over the bonds and making memoranda ior his new ate ward— curse him!” “So you could have got along without me, an’ my ab lity to pick a lock and crack a gopher, to say nothin'.' of a little toy safe like that,” interjected Bloom. "Well, I’m in the deal, an’ I propose to stay there till the last card’s dealt and the game won—or lost.” “Don’t croak!” snarled Bears, “well, -we made a bargain. As Martin wouldn’t be called on to blow open the safe, I traded work with him and let him tend to the old man. He was weak and couldn’t have hied long, anyway." “Hist!” warned Bloom, nervously. “Not se loud. You’re just as guilty as I am, both of you. ” “Nonsense! This isn’t a question of guilt, it’s • matter of business. “Go on!” urged Morris impatiently. “After I’d appropriated the bonds and what other valuables Mart hadn’t already •towed away in his pockets, I went np«tair< to look after the young man, your former clerk, who, besides capturing the old man, se. ms to have made a decided impression on the susceptible heart of my charming little Berenice." “You didn't kill him there?"

•Don’t be stupid, Max. I didn’t kill him at all.’ “The i you’ve bundled matters in a wav I didn't think possible!” “Stop cloaking. I had abetter scheme." “Out with it." “First, I put h m under the influence er chloroform. This done I closed the ring in tbo band of old Paul, and when Winters had revived a little forced a good dose of your elixir down bis turoat.” “ Capital ide -! And then?” “He I ecouie as tractable as a lamb and went with us to a room in the block below here. ” “And is there now?” “Can’t »a ." “You don t mean " “That we left the door open so that he could walk out when he wakened." “1 hat was foo.ish!” “Why so?" “H« will iell all he knows.” “ti hi h is nothing." “Aud wbat then?” “He will be convicted and hung." “But the case against him—how strong will it be?" "He will plead guilty.” “Talk sensibly!” “Ido. NV'beuhe is searched the most damaging e idence will be found U| on him In hie pockets there are numerous articles taken from the Bt. Cyr house, including the old man's w«teh aud diamond pin. Besides sewed up in his shirt are one of the bonds and the beautiful set of jewels presented Berenice by her father yesterday. NVhat do you think of that?" “Good. Better than I expected of you.” “And there’s lots of blood on his clothes,” added Bloom, “and some of my best saws, tiles, and keys in his pockets.” “You've done well!" cried Morris, enthusiastically. “Only " “What’s the matter now?" “You might h >ve put in something of less value than the jewels and that bond, ■which is for $5,000.” “ You deny it, Morris, but you’re a Jew, and a mean one. Those things are trifles. Besides, they will all come back." “How?" “They will be found and turned over to the daughter.” “I suppose so." “Which is a roundabout* but no less a certain way of getting them into my hands, since I’ll be her husband w.thin u year. ” “Well!” cried Morris, admiringly, “but you nre a more comprehensive rascal than I ever imagined. ” “But she suspects you," warned Bloom. “She won’t very long." “Aud the landed property you get with her?” suggested Morris. “We’ll divi-le the same as the bonds. You and Mart help me through, and you shall have one-half of it between you, net." “That’s fair. Speiking of the bonds, where are they?” “I was afraid to carry them about :nd had to take some chances in disposing of them, until we met here to-night.” “Where are they?” cried the two others in a bieatb. With his ear acainst the n-arro v opening our hero awaited the response. He had learned the details of the inf -mous p’ot, and was about to locate the immense stolen property. A moment later he knew the secret, but it sent consternation instead of joy to his heart. “Those bonds," wmsperea Sears, “that is the Hft> -vine of them, are in that box that Mart Bloom is sitting on!”

CHAPTER VI. X RUN OF GOOD LUCK. Only for an instant did the stout heirt ( of Co e Winters sink within him. He Was po.-sesse i of true American ' grit, and a moment’s reflection decided him to profit, if possible, by his sad predicament. The box was about one-third full of old rags and pe cos of cloth, and among; these he began feeling, taking care to make no noise. Almont immediately his search was rewarded by the discovery of whit seemed i to lie an envelope or wrapper nearly an inch in thickness. lie was in the act of trmsferring this | to one of his boot legs when a thought struck him. While at the exposition the preceding ■ night he had taken quite a number of the circulars of different city firms represented there, his object being to c •11 < n some of them and try to secuie employment. To his joy he found that they were still in his pocket. It lequitcd but a moment for him to chaute there papers for the bonds, thrusting the bitter into his boot nnd replacing the envelope where he hart found it. This done, he turned his attention once more to his enemies. As he did th s, the door closed and the key turned in the lock. “Well?” queried Sears. “They’re after him," replied Bloom, who : had just enteied. “ That’s what ' caused the racket.” “Who?" “The police! Ihey’re after Winters." “Has he been seen?" “They had him once, but he broke away; > t least that’s the talk on Clark street.” “They may conclude to search the buildings along here,” suggested Morris. “True,” assented Sears, “and we’d better be getting out." “Right you are!” cried Bloom. -“Secure the picture cards, and we’ll vamoose the ranch." He pointed to the rough box, and in a moment the young man had sprung forward and thrown it open. With a cry of dismay he staggered back. “We’re betrayed,” he'MssedjXdrawing and cocking a revolver. x “What’s the racket?” demanded the burglar, imitating his example. “There’s some one in the box. Make a move, and you die for it!”The winning was addressed to the unknown intruder. “Bring forward the light. Max,” he continued, “while we keep him covered." “Thunder!” ejaculated the last named individual as he ttrshe I into the box the penetrating ravs of a dark lantern. “What is it?" queried Sears. “A dead man! fc “No, he’s drunk.” “Thuuder,” cried Morris. “What’s the matter now?” “Hanged if it ain’t our man, Cole Winters!” Another moment md three pairs of eyes were glowering upon the apparently inanimate iorm of our hero. “How came ho here?” asked Morris. “Slipped in to evade the police!” replied Sears. “Is he dead?” “No; don’t you see he's breathing?” “The close quarters and lack of air have revived the power of the drug, that’s all. Lend hand.” A moment later Cole was lifted out and laid, or, rather, thrown upon the floor. “Look for the bonds!” urged Bloom. “Here they are,” announced the young man, as he drew forth the package upon which our hero had thought!ully replaced the rubber ban! that held it together.

“Pae if they’re all right," importuned the burglar. , “Oh, non«ense! We’ve other business j to dispatch.” ' NV iti this he thrust the supposed valnI able packet into his pocket. i . “What are we to do with him?” asked Mor.is, giving the form upon the floor a kick. “We’ll leave him here, and take good I pains that the police search the building, j Oh! we're in for a run of good luck." “I don’t know about that,” declared Bloom, lugubnouslr. "Why?" demanded both the others. “The newsboys are crying out extra, with a ba 1 p ece of n^ws,’outside. I forgot to tell you whbn I came in." “What’s that?" csked Sears. “The sudden death of Beienlca St. Cyr!” “You don’t mean th it?” “No, I mean th it!” The burglar emphasized the final pronoun, and pointed «t Cole Winters. He had borne without wincing his rude fall to the floor and the brutal kick of the so-called banker, but the sudden ani nouneement of the death of her who, ■ though the acquaintance of an hour, had made an indrhble on upon his beatt, was too much ior him to bear. He had forgotten his perilous position, and with eyes wide open had half risen to a sitting posture. “Confusion!" cried Sears, at the same time producing his pistol. “You’re keener than I imagined,” said Morris in admiring tones. “You ought to be a financier, Mart. You’re wasting your talents on burgling.” In the meantime our here, seeing that nothing was to be gained by further simulation, had risen to his feet, and with folded arms stood confronting his armed enemies. “What have you heard?" demanded Morris. “Don’t turn fool in your old age, Max,” sneered Sears. “He’s heard everything, of course!” “I heard you say that Miss St. Cyr was dead," faltered Cole, who had instantly realized that he had been trapped. “It isn’t true, I’m sure it isn’t." “I guess you’re right. Mart Bloom is a conscientious, truthful man, but I’m afraid his imagination was rather active when he made that statement. My pretty Berenice will have a piece of news tomorrow, and, what’s more, it will have the merit of being true.” “And that is ’’ “An account of your death!" “Good enough!” ejaculated Bloom, while Morris bioathed heavily through his close-set teeth. “Do you mean to murder me?” demanded Cole, t-king a backward step aud clinching his hands. “Ob. my, no! That’s a rough word. We propose to remove you.” “You're a lot of miserable cowards!” “You’re becoming rather perso ml. Mr. Winters, but I’ll overlook it in iiew of your excited condition. Beside-, to tell the truth, you are about rUht. W’e are a little bit afraid to leave, you running around loose < ole V inter- looked from the sneering face of the young m»n to the cold, im-pas-i ve one of ‘he money-lender, and i lealized that no chance for life would be | given him. “I’ll make one for myself, ” he decided suddenl . This lesolution formed, he dealt young Sears n blow which sent his revolver flying acioss the room, and brought him heavily to the floor. He was in the act of following up his advantage by assaulting Morris, when his arms wore seized from behind.

Although unusually strong und active, our beio was as powerless to move as if held in the grasp of one of the giants described in the romances of his boyhood. He struggled and plunged, but the strength or Martin Bloom so far surpassed his own as to render his efforts entirely futile. Than he bethought himself of his voice. “11 el ” The word was f drly driven back into his throat by the brutal h ind of Morris, which descended heavily upon his mouth. “Let me at him!" shouted Sears, who had leguined his feet and drawn a murderous knife. “Hist!” warned Morris, raising his hand and stepping between the enraged young man and his intended victim. “Don’t we want to get rid of him?" “Yes, but not that way. A blow has deprived you of every idea save that of revenge." “He mus’ die.” “True, but it must be accidental." “How?" “ I hat’s for you to decide.” “I’m equal to the emergency.” Reason had gained the supremacy over rage, und Almon Sears laughed mockingly and smote his white hands together. “Good! What do vou propose?” “This way.” Leaving Bloom in charge of the prisoner, Morris took the dark lantern and followed the other to the rear of the long apartment. Near the back wall the young man stopped, and stooping over began tugging at a ring in the floor. After a little ft section of the floor began to move, and a moment later a trap-door had been laid back, leaving an aperture some four feet square from which a close, almost stifling smell arose. “What's that?" queried Morris, at the same time recoiling from the onening. “It’s a cellar, just the place for us. “How came you to know about it?” “Mart and I brought some plunder here over a month a.o. We spent the greater | part of a night here. I like to know the i nature of my sunoundings, and the ditfer- | ent avenues of escape in the event of a surprise, and so surveyed the premises." I “ What’s below?" j “Nothing but foul gases and death." “But his body will never be found I there?” I “Won’t it? I’ll arrange that matter. I It will not only be found, but with it I what will be regarded as certain proof that he was accidentally killed by falling through the open trap. Leave’ that to me. I’ve a liking for details. This wav Mart!” y ’

[TO BE CONTINUED. I

Just About. Many things more nonsensical than trying to eat soup with a wooden toothpick might be named, but salting down weal th, without economy, prudence,and forethought, is about’ as difficult.— fiain’is Horn. Ix Wellington, New Zealand, a diver who had gone down some thirty feet to place some blocks for a pier foundation, was attacked by a devil fish that succeeded in fastening on him, and. in spite of all his struggles, pinned liim to one of the piles of a retaining wall. The diver, however, had the good sense to remain quiet, and the devil fish, whose arms measured quite nine feet’, quitting hold of the pile, was brought to the surface on the back of the diver and killed. These monsters are reported to be very numerous in Wellington harbor.

HOW IS IT EXPLAINED?

PAUL JOHNSTONE’S PERILOUS MIND-READING FEAT. He Drives Blindfolded Through Crowded Street* in Chicago and Pick* Out a Name on a Hotel Register—His Dream of a Collision Cmnes Partly One. [SPECIAL CHICAGO CORRESPONDENCE.]

P. A. JOHNSTONE.

cago by Paul Alexander Johnstone. Mind-reader Johnstone drove blindfolded through the crowded streets of the city from the Auditorium to the Grand Pacific Hotel, and, still with a handkerchief tightly bandaged over his eyes, picked out of an old register a name that had been selected for the test by a committee of disinterested citizens. It was a similar feat which killed Bishop and it nearly killed Johnston®- A doctor worked over him for ttyee hours to drag him out of an attack of congestion of the brain into which he had been throw# by his adventure. The doctor saved him, but he will never’attempt the feat again. He has had enough. At 2 o’clock In the afternoon a score of people comprising representatives of the press and a special committee sat in the south parlor of the Auditorium Hotel and watched with considerable Interest the nervous antics of a pale-faced young man in a closely buttoned Prince Albert coat, who was about to undertake what Is conceded the most difficult accomplishment in mlnd-rcading. The committee selected to supervise the undertaking and see that It did not* partake of the appearance of a “fake” consisted erf Dr. G, E. Butler, B. A. Johnson, editor of the Lumber Trade Journal, Charles Lederer, the artist, W. C Wright, and Thaddeus Dean. These gentlemen sat together In one end of the room and listened with some incredulity

LEAVING THE AUDITORIUM.

to the announcement of what Mr. Johnstone proposed to do. “A portion of the committee will leave here in a carriage and drive by some circuitous route to the Grand Pacific Hotel, * said the restless and excited young man. “There you will select a hotel register and mutually agree upon a name therein, fixing in your minds the appearance of the signature and the date of the same. Then you will return here, and after I have blindfolded myself and covered my head with a cloak, I will drive over the same route to the hotel and pick out the name in the register and write it. Keep the exact particulars of the drive in your mind, as I must depend on your recollection of what happens to guide me. Don’t drive too far, as I fear that it will require all my strength to complete the difficult test at the hotel. ” An open carriage was waiting at the Michigan avenue entrance of the hotel. W. C. Wright was to remain with Mr. Johnstone, and the other five gentlemen of the committee went down and took their places in the vehicle, with Mr. Dean at the reins. It was arranged that he should do all of the driving and not leave the seat during the test. The committee drove north on Michigan avenue to Monroe street, west on Monroe street to Wabash avenue, south on Wabash avenue to Adams, west on Adams to

DRIVING BLINDFOLDED THROUGH CROWDED STREETS.

State, south on State to Jackson, west on Jackson to Clark, and then north on Clark to the entrance of the Grand Pacific Hotel. Leaving Mr. Dean at the reins, the other committee-men went to the desk and were given a register full of names. The book was taken out to the carriage, and, after some discussion, the committee decided on the name of J. G. Butler, Jr., Youngstown, Ohio, the date being Aug. 35,1890. Leaving Mr. Lederer to guard the register, and see that no one touched it in the meantime, the committee drove back to the point of starting. Durinc their absence Johnstone paced the floor like a caged tiger. Dr. Butler and Mr. Johnson were selected to take charge of him in preparation for the drive. They blindfolded him and then placed over his head the velvet cloak. Theft Dr. Butler traced on the wall with his finger the route they had driven, indicating the turns made and the number of blocks in each direction. When he concluded the young man clutched his hand and rushed down the stairway two steps at a time to the carriage. He was assisted to the seat beside Mr. Dean, given the lines, and In a moment was guiding the spirited team along Michigan avenue, while a dozen cabs and carriages filled with students of psychical phenomena rattled along behind. When the cloaked driver swung his team west on Adams street, instead of Monroe, It looked as though he bad

TH E performances of the late Washington Irving Bishop pale before the accomplishments of a new psychological wonder. The feat of mind-reading, in the attempt of which Bishop lost his life | in New York a year and a half ago, has been successfully accomplished in ChL

fafled at the very start. It was the only mistake lie maue. He drove west on Adams one block to Wabash, then south to Jackson, w’est to State, south to Van Buren, and west to Dearborn. Here he seemed to lose his bearings or realize that a mistake had been made. Thu drive up to this point had been attended with several difficulties and delays. The streets were filled with vehicles and a crowd of 500 curious people followed the carriage. At the corner of Adams and Dearborn streets the tongue of the carriage ran into the wheel of au express wagon and the Consequent stop and excitement probably assisted in diverting the mind of the driver. At the corner of Dearborn and Van Buren streets Johnstone alighted and led a member of the committee to the middle of the street. After standing a moment he appeared to recover his bearings, for he hurried back to the carriage and drove without further hesitation to Clark street, where he drew up in front of Gore’s Hotel, just one block south of the Grand Pacific, thus proving that the only error he had made was in

AT THE HOTEL REGISTER.

turning from Michigan avenue to Adams instead of Monroe. When Informed of his mistake he asked Mr. Dean to fix his mind on the proper direction to take. Mr. Dean apparently selected the right direction, for a moment later the venerable gentleman was being violently pulled along the pavement toward the Grand Pacific. A jostling crowd fell in behind. Turning into the entrance, the ' mind-reader hurried to the exact spot where Mr. Lederer had been left with i the register. Here his strength appeared .to desert him, and he would have fainti ed had'not a glass of liquor been put to his lips. He was allowed a few moments’ rest in a private room and then was led behind the desk in the rotunda, with the book before him and the members of the committee standing about. Taking Mr. Lederer by the hand, the blindfolded man began rapidly turning the leaves. When he reached the proper place he exclaimed: “That’s it, Aug. 25! Is that right? Tell me, quick, is that right?” “Yes, that is the right page,” said Dr. Butler. At this point the young man again came very near going into a nervous collapse, and several minutes before he could proceed. “Now, gentlemen,” said he, “think intently of the appearance of this signature. ” He leaned over the page, beat it with his hands, passed his palms nervously across the foreheads of those about him, and then asked that a coat be thrown over his head. This was done, and after further lightning maneuvers suddenly called out: “A paper and pencil, quick. ” They were handed him, and leaning on the book he wrote an almost correct facsimile of the signature before him, “J. G. Butler, Jr.” A 3 if doubtifig the correctness of this, he again called for. a

THE NAME ON THE REGISTER.

pencil and wrote the name a second time. “Am I right?” nervously shouted Johnstone. “You are,” shouted the committee, and the big cjjowd cheered the accomplishment of a wonderful effort. Johnstone burst into tears when he heard the shout, and he was carried away sobbing. His temperature and pulse were remarkably high, and his heart-beat was as rapid as the thumping of car-wheels on the joints of a shortrailed track. Nearly everybody else who saw the torture he endured while he was trying to find the name felt about as bad, and the committee looked like ghosts in plug hats. When Johnstone came down from his room he reeled between his attendants. He was driven home and there he had the attack which nearly ended him. He fell over onto a lounge, his face became purple, his jaw dropped, and his eyes lost all their natural light and seemed about to pop from his head. “This ends him,” said his manager, but there was life in the boy when Dr. J. H. Law came. The Doctor labored over him and brought him to consciousness. “I will never try it again,” he muttered, and then became delirious. In his ravings he went over the afternoon’s adventures and three men fought hard to keep him from jumping through a window. The Doctor said the strain had produced congestion of the brain. But he had successfully accomplished the marvelous feat, and not one of the committee was in any doubt as to the exhibition being a genuine case of mindreading, self-induced hypnotism, or something else just as wonderful.

Woman Vowed to Wear Trousers.

Mrs. Kreiger has lived on a ranch on the San*Pablo, Cai., road for over fifteen years, and during tnat time she has not worn the ordinary apparel of woman. So accustomed have the people of that vicinity become to her and her strange dress that they no longer notice it. Up to fifteen years ago Mr. Kreiger wore skirts and dresses like any other of her sex. Indeed, it appears that she had more of them, and tffat they were of more varied forms, textures and colors than are usually possessed by farmers’ wives. It was shortly before the change in her manner of dressing that she married William Kreiger,a thrifty German farmer and a widower, and went to live on the ranch. For a time they got along well, but whpn he charged her with extravagance in dress, she hung up her pretty gowns and deuued male attire.

Happiness.

Happiness is the great aim of all mankind and for which all are forever driving; and ye-i how few there are who know when they have obtained it 1 The healthy, care-free boy longs for the time when he will be grown a man, and pictures in his youthful mind the happiness he will enjoy when he is forever free from parental control. "When the years have rolled past, and he finds himself what he has so ardently .wished for, he pauses, and, upon taking a Retrospective view, he as ardently longs for the joys, the happiness and. alas! too often for the innocence of childhood. Oh! how many of us old, care-worn, sin-scarred and toughhearted specimens of the “genus homo” would give all we have toiled, schemed and sinned for, since we arrived at man’s estate, to be again innocent children, and allowed the inestimable pleasure of a good, all-night glorious sleep, such as we used to enjoy when we were boys. Oh, for the days long gone, in recollection so vivid, in which we watched the gap all day long, sitting in the corner of the old wooden fence under the shade of the old elder bush, while we manufactured wonders of whistles from green pat/ paw bark, and cut our fingers with the new BarIpw knife which papa bought for us on the Saturday before. j We can shut our eyes now and see the old barn, the pump at the roadside, with the horse trough near by; the wagon shed, granary and corn-crib combined; the half-finished wheat rick and, beyond all these, the dwelling with its log walls neatly painted and whitewashed—the very personification of that cleanliness which is next to godliness. And last, but not least, the old ash hopper, under which we used to play “house” with our little sister, before'we got big enough to go to school and “mind the gap;” And the closing of our eyes seems to have opened our ears, for we can hear the cackling of the hens, who seem to be holding a convention over some newly laid eggs in the barn, and the steady “thud-thud” of the loom at the house gives early promise of some new. cop-peras-colored pants. Now we hear the • “chuck,” “chuck” of the wagon coming, for the fourth time, well laden from the wheat field, and, as it nears the gap, there breaks forth from the house that which'to boys is the sweetest of all music—“tjre dinner horn.” Could we have but realized how happy we were then, we surely would have been contented; but such realization could not be, and the only difference which time has wrought in our thoughts on the subject is, that then we looked forward to find happiness, whereas now we look backward, and our happiest moments now are spent in a retrospective contemplation of the happiness which we enjoyed at a time when we did not realize it. How it softens the heart to recall those old days, and while I know that, in this world, happiness always seems to be either ahead or behind us, I do hope that in the world to come we may be allowed the happiness of again living over our boyhood days, and fully realizing their pleasures at the time.— Caspar Cringle,in Detroit Free Press.

Shakey Dinkleman Gets an Exercise Machine for the Old Man.

When Mr. Spelmeyer came over to borrow the stepladder from Mr. Dinkleman, the other morning, the old fellow let him have it without a murmur,! and in reply to Jakey’s look of inquiry : he said: “Shakey, I find oud somedings. One goot durn deserves anoder. Spelmeyer do somedings for me, so I do dot by him, see?” Jakey said that he did. Two hours later the dutiful son came into the store with a little box and laid it down on the counter. “Vot is dot, Shakey?” asked his mother. “Some exercises for de old man,” he replied. He opened it then and explained that it was a galvanic battery—one of the kind on which the power is increased or lessened by turning a crank. “I feel nervous to-day,” yawned the senior Dink as he drew near the counter, and then, as his eye rested on the machine, he asked: “Vot is dot, Shakey?” “Dot is to take avay vot is nervousness called.” “How is dot, eh ?” Jakey explained, and the next instant the old man’s hands were pressed around the handles of the wires leading to the batteries. Jakey gave the handle a slight turn. His father’s face twisted. Jakey turned the handle a little more, and the old man’s hands jumped up and down, while his wife looked at him and laughed. “Dot is enough, Shakey,” he stammered, as- the good son gave him a little more of the power. But Jakey didn’t stop. He just went right on turning that handle, and his father grew red in the face and yelled like a Sioux Indian. “By Shupiter, Shakey, if you don’t stop dot dings I kick dot dam lightning factory to Hoboken. Mine God, I am: burning. Rebecca, save me.” And as Jakey turned off the current and dodged behind a packing box his father sank limp and mad on the floor. “Oh, Shakey, you are von bad boy,“ he groaned. “You most kill your poor ' fader. Vot for you turn dot machine so much?” “You know vot you say dis morning ?* “Vot is dot?” “Von good turn deserves anoder, don’d it?”— New York Mercury. The particles of matter producing shootir g stars may be astonishingly min ute. In are cent investigation Mr. C. C. Hutchins has found that, on the supposition that the rays of the meteor have the same ratio of visible to total energy as those of the standard candle, the mass of a meteor at a distance of fifty miles, having a magnitude equal to Vega and a velocity of twenty-five miles a second, would be about four and one-half grains if it continued two seconds. A lump of the Emmett Co. (Iowa) iron meteorite burned in au electric current gave ten times the light of the candle, hence the mass of a meteor giving the light of a first magnitude star moving with parabolic velocity, and lasting two seconds, is less tluui one-half grain. j