Daily Wabash Express, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 28 September 1884 — Page 5

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ECHOES FROM SWEET SINGERS.

Lines to a Child

JBAV MARIGOLD

Belov'd, yonr childhood's days are passing swiftly To a bright future reaching widehefore Even so Bpeeds forth the brooklet's sparkling current

To widen to a river evermore.

No human eye can view the fate before you Nor read it in your eyes' purity No hand may guide you through the pathways inazy,

Nor shield you in that dim ntanty.

Alone our prayers may follow where you wan-

Alone the echo of past consolation Calm griefs profound, or words of high endeavor

Uplift yonr soul to noblest aspiration.

We would that peace and pleasure be your portion, A heart to lean upon most true and pare, That clam delight around your living cluster

Plenteous as petals round the rose's core.

We would that, like the fervent prayers ascending To bloom like lilies ronnd the throne of love, Whatever path pn earth your feet be wending

Your faith be lifted unto God above, Chicago, III. Deceitful Calm. The winds are stUl! The sea lies nil untroubled

Beneath a cloudless sky! The mom is bright Tet, Lord, I feel my need of Thee redouT Come nearer to me in this blaze of light! The night must fall the storm will break at length—

Oh, give me strength!

So well, so well I know the treacherous seem ing Of days like this. They are too heavenly fair, Those waves that laugh like happy children dreaming,

Are mighty forces brewing some despair For thoughtless hearts. And ere the hour of need

Let mine take head.

Joy cannot last. It must give place to sorrow As certainly as solar systems roll I would not wait till that time comes, to borrow

The strength prayer offers to the suffering soul,— I cry for aid.

I dare not lightly drain the cup of pleasure, Though Thine the hand that proffers me the draught Sncb bitter lees lie lower in the measure,

I shall need courage ere the potion's quaffed Then strengthen me, before that time befall,

To drink the gall.

I need Thee in my joys and my successes, To make me humbly grateful and not vain I need Thee when the weight of sorrow presses

The tortured heart that cries aloud in pain Bo close great pleasure and great anguish lie— O God, come nigh! —[Ella Wheeler Wilcox.

MADOLIN'S LOVER.

my

BERTHA M. OL.AY,

Author of "Dora Thome.'

CHAPTER XLV1I.

Another bright day full of perfume, lull of warmth. Elaine was busied with some work Mrs. Bird had brought her. It was marvelous, even to herself, how she succeeded with her sewing. She, whose delicate fingers had tired even of the slightest and prettiest work, could now spnnd week after week Bewing all kinds of materials, from the finest to the coarsest. She marveled at herself, and, in her simple, earnest fashion, thought that heaven had helped her in this respect.

She was sitting by the open window, working busily, when Madolin entered the room, with that fatal happiness shining in her face. "I want to speak to you, Mrs. Moore," she Baid, "if you can spare a few minutes." "I am quite at your service," answered Elaine, gently. She always upoke to Madolin with averted face and drooping eyes. "I have several things to say to you, Mrs. Moore. I must first, however, tell you that by your trustworthy conduct you have gained the esteem and liking of Sir Aldewin Ohesleigh and his housekeeper. Sir Aldewin will, through her, make you an offer of some kind he wants you to remain in the house, holding your present position, and at the same time looking after his little daughter. Her nurse is very good, but she is not quite equal to her task, BO Sir Aldewin thinks." "He iB very kind," taid Elaine. "The terms, of courae, you will settle with him or with Mrs. Bird." continued Madolin "what he particularly wishes is this. He desires to enliBt your kindness, your affection, your sympathy, for the child. She is motherless and that oi itself should win a good woman's love." "I do love her," said Elaine. "I am quite sure of it, or I should notbeheie talking to you now about her. I am anxious myself concerning her I loved her sweet mother so well. You seem to me Mrs. Moore—pardon my plain speech—so gentle and refined that I feel sure you would exercise a good influence over her. She will not nave a governess for some time yet, and she may be left a great deal with you will you do for her what you would do for your own child, if it were living?" "I promise you that I will," said Elaine. "I cannot tell why I place such implicit confidence in you," said Madolin "but I do. There is something about yon that was once familiar to me and I feel sure that you can be an excellent friend to the child." "I will do my best," promised Elaine. "I ani going away, shortly," continued Miss Brierton. "My visit here waB merely to see how litUe Pearl was progressing Lady Marche iB so anxious about her. I shall leave her much more happily, now that I know I am leaving her with you." "You are very kind," murmured Elaine while Madolin stood for a few minutes lost in thought. "There is something else that 1 should like to tell you, Bhe said, "but I cannot. Sir Aldewin has some plans for the future with which you, loving the child, will be well pleased, I believe. I cannot tell you more but I entreat you to believe that, if you are kind to the little one and keep watch over her, you will find friends who will make your interests theirs. I love her so much that leaving her is a real trouble to me be kind to her and watch over her, for the love of the child you have lost"

Then Madolin looked slightly embarrassed, and drew nearer to the shrinking figure. She held out something in her hand, but Elaine did not notice it. Madolin face flushed one glance, however, at the shabby dress reassured lier. She placed a bank note in Elaine's hand. "You will accept this from me," she said gently.

Elaine looked up wonder. "Do not think that I want to bribe you," »-lded Madolin, or that I fancy I can buy your affection and interest for thq chi: J. 1 cannot do that. This is to buy yourself some little which will serve to remind ?t.youyj*omiBe.

Yon

sj*iU not «tuM„ I Hope or I had drawn back with -tt^rembHng vtaat shecould not

not refuser' reputed h« utter surprise, the passionate cry seized

*5fMltnr«S»edit with passionate over aod over again, ^tartar**™" wwiked on in bewilder-

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She held out her hand, and_ Elaine, shrinking, hardly touched it then Miss Brierton went away, leaving Elaine alone.

Was it foolish to take out the banknote and weep over it as though her loving heart would break? Was it foolish to kiss it over and over again, as though it were a living thing and could feel her caresses?

Madolin's bribe that she should love her child—Madolin's propitiatory gi/t —how Bhe loved it, how she treasured it! "I would not change it if I were starving!" she said. "I will keep it always while I live!"

As she stood with it in her hands she thought of a thousand little acts of kindness that Madolin had done for her—how she had nursed her, waited on her, cared for her. She could recall so many acts of kindness and selfsasrifice. She thought of the heroic goodness which had induced her to go that night so long gone by and bring Sir Aldewin to her. Her heart warmed to the noble kinswoman who had sacri ficed herself so entirely. "If she knew all!" Bhe said to herself, over and over again

Life had some strange turns, but that she, the heiress of Southwold, Sir John Marche's only child, the wife of rich baronet, should receive a gift of five pounds amused while it pained her.

On that day Sir Aldewin had a con sultatfon with his housekeeper. He sent for her to his room, to tell her of the great change impending. "You will not be surprised to hear it, Mrs. Bird," he said, "and it will make no difference to you. You have been a valued servant for some time, and I thought it only right to tell you first."

Mrs. Bird looked into her master's faC0# I wish you happiness, sir," she said, with her old-fashioned courtesy. "May I take a great liberty, and ask a question?" "No question that you can ask will ever be a liberty," replied Sir Aldewin.

May I ask, then, which of the ladies you are going to marry "Which?" he repeated, laughing. "That presuppc -r a number to choose from. I am ud and happy to tell you that Miss Biierton will be Lady Chesteigh in a short time." "I am very pleased to hear it," said the housekeeper. "I was afraid that it was the other lady." "What other la'iy?" aBked Sir Aidewin and Mrs. Bird blushed for her indiscretion. "Miss Forbes," ulie replied. She is not what one would call popular here."

I thank you for your good wishes," said Sir Aldewin. Then he told her of his desire that Mrs. Moore should be induced—at least for a time—to remain at the Hall. "I shall go abroad for some months after mv marriage, he said, "and I should like her to remain until our return at least. Will you speak to her?"

She promised to do so, and left her master, much relieved in mind. If it had been Miss Forbes," she said, "I should not have remained had the place been even twenty times as good.

She went at once to Elaine, and delivered her master's message. "You will not talk about it," she said, "I am sure but the fact is that Sir Aldewin intends to be married very soon. He told me so himself."

The dark dazed face was raised to hers. "Very soon?" she repeated, faintly. "Yes and he is going abroad for his honey-moon. Ttou look surprised." "Yes, I am," she replied "it all seems so sudden." "I cannot think why you should be surprised. It was only to be expected that a wealthy, handsome man like my master would mar' again." "But soon," muttered Elaine—"you said soon." "Why not soon as well as late? It cannot matter. I fancy, from what he said, that he will keep the new Lady Chesleigh abroad some time." "The new Lady Chesleigh," echoed Elaine and the tone in which she uttered the words was like sad, sweet music. Then she said quite suddenly, "Do you think Sir Aldewin has forgotten the young wife who was lost at s©a "I cannot say. I think not. More than once have gone on some errand into the drawing-room, and have seen him standing before her picture that does not look as though he had forgotten her. For my part, I wish with all my heart that my poor lady had lived. She was worth all the others." "Does he ever mention her?" asked Elaine. "I have never heard him—yes, I have. He talks to little missie about her, but not to any one else—not but what he seems very fond of Miss Brierton. It is perhaps because she is hiB late wife's kinswoman." "How little any one knows the truth!" said Elaine to hereelf and yet in some vague way it comforted her to know that the servants in her husband's household believed in his love for her. "They will be married soon, remarked the housekeeper "and what Lady Forbes will Bay, when she knows it is more than I can tell."

CHAPTER XLV1II.

Sir Aldewin was in his study al Ashbrooke. The table was coveredl with papers and books, but none of them enKrossed his attention he waji thinking deeply, seriously, intently",, trying to realize that, after yeara of weary waiting, of hard fighting, of struggles, always ending nobly, he was to be happy at last-. His had been such a strange untoward fate. On this bright sunlit morning he sat there trying to understand that his troubles were ended, and that he had a chance of happiness before he died.

His thoughts went from the living, beautiful, loving Madolin, to the fair, tender young wife who had loved him so well—the young wife who slept under the blue waters. It was strange, but he always did think more of her on a bright day. Something in the sunlight and in the Bong of the birds re1 1 Vi«m kav 1-1 a fK/tlKvliffl

minded him of her. His thoughts wandered from his living love to big dead wife—tender, sweet Elaine* What a romance her love for him had been! It touched him now as it had never done before. "She loved me well," he said, to himself—"better perhaps than any ona else could." And there ceme to him. a soft, lingering, dreamy regret that the bright loving life had ended so soon. "What have I ever done," he thought.

Ho merit the love of two such women as Madolin and Elaine—the one a noble, thoughtful woman, the other a lovely, loving, fanciful child, both differing in temperament, in character, in ideas and thoughts, yet one in their love for me?"

He said to himself that he was unworthy of such love, yet that was certainly his. And there came to him a dream of what the remainder of his life should be like—how he would make Madolinr happy, how he would educate and train his pretty little Pearl, bow he would diffuse happiness around him, because Heaven had been so good te him.

He roused himself suddenly for the door of the study had opened, and lady Forbes came in. '"J rapped several timea and yon dldnot hear me,Sir Aldewin hei^Xf^a.wooW

Have I displeased you?" she asked,] honor me witti a visit,"lie said. "Prayl

:zled bv the bitter weeping. be seated, I*dy Forbes.

puzzled by the bitter weeping. Elaine quickly recovered herself— such conduct would not do. 8he did not raise her eyes to the beautiful kindly face. "No," she said. "I beg your pardon it was your kindness that moyed me. No one has given me anything for so long no one has been kind to me and you are so good. I thank you very much I will take the note. I am grateful to yon." And to herself she added that she would keep it untouched until she died. "I am glad that I have pleased you," said Madolin gently. "I am going away this evening I will say good-bye to you now."

look wws

He rose at onoe with that courtlv grace that never failed hia». "I *m always pleaeed whan jotx

be seated, Lady Forbes. He placed a chair for her and her ladyship seated herself, not without an uncomfortable idea that she might as well perhaps give up her purpose. •'I hope, said Sir Aldewin, "that you have taken advantage of this beau tiful morning, and have been out in the grounds?"

She looked at him with a faint smile. "This beautiful morning has brought me a strange piece of intelligence," she answered, "and I am longing to know if it be true." "What is it?" he asked. a "It may be only a rumor," saia Lady Forbes, hesitatingly, "or it may be truth. I have heara that you are going to be married, Sir Aldewin."

The words fell with great distinctness and for a few minutes there was silence between them. Sir Aldewin was the first to break it. "Even should it be so, are you much surprised?" he asked. "I cannot say—I do not think that I am. I have always told you that with this great house and all your responsibilities you ought to have a wife. I am of th"e same opinion still. The only part of the rumor I did not believe was the name of the lady." Sir Aidewin bowed but made no answer. "I hear that you are to marry Madolin Brierton, and—I must say that I am surprised at it. I should have fancied

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he was the least likely to become misof Ashbrooke." He could have told her that to marry Madolin Brierton had been the one object of his life for years but he would not even argue the question. "It is quite right," he said, gently. "I have a great affection and a great esteem for Miss Brierton, and I hope soon to make her my wife."

Lady Forbes rose from her seat. She was too shrewd and worldly wise to show all she felt, too politic to make an enemy of Sir Aldewin. She held out her hand as though in kindliest greeting. "I wish you all happiness," she said, "and that from my heart."

He thanked her then came another pause. Her ladyship broke it. "I came to see you on two errandB," she said "one was to congratulate you, the other to say how sorry I am that our pleasant visit must end at last." 'I am sorry for it," returned Sir Aldewin. "So am I. My daughter and myself have received great kindness and hospitality at your hands but we have to part, and it may as well be now. Even had I no other engagements, I should hesitate about remaining. You will want to re-decorate or re-furnish, and we should only be in the way."

There was a hard, unpleasant smile on her face as she spoke. It was with difficulty she could command her temper. This had been one of the great desires of her life. She had settled every hope on seeing her daughter Lady ChtBleigh. She had intrigued and schemed, flattered and told untruths she had deceived and outwitted and now all her plans had come to nothing. The brilliant position and future that she had hoped to secure for Monica were for another. She was defeated it was high time for her to withdraw.

Sir Aldewin made some polite reply. He did not ask her to remain he had a certain instinct that his beloved Madolin would never care much for Lady Forbes. He asked when she was going, promised to attend to the ordering of the carriages, and then bade her good morning.

Lady Forbes went at once in search of her daughter. She found her in one of the corridors playing with Pearl. "I want you, Monica," Bhe said abruptly. "Leave that child, and come with me."

There were no caresses, no kisses, no rapturous exclamations. Miss Forbes guessed, from the tones of her mother's voice, what had happened, and, leaving the child, walked away with her. "You need not waste any more time on that little doll," said Lady Forbes, angrily "it is all over, all useless you must have mismanaged matters. After all my trouble, Sir Aldewin is going to marry Madolin Brierton."

Although she had expected it, the news was none the less a terrible blow to Monica. "Is it true, mamma?" she asked faintly. "Is there no mistake?" "None! He told me about1 it himself. We are going away to-morrow, and then the house will be prepared for his new wife."

Miss Forbes looked up with a sneering

Bmile.

"It was prepared once before," she said, "for a wife who never even saw it, and such may be the case again."

There was so much malice, so much real venom in her words, that Lady Forbes was startled. She was a shrewd, worldly woman, whose every idea began and ended with self, but she would not willingly hurt any one. "Do not wish them evil, Monica," she said, sharply. "I repeat it, she cried, with unconscious prophecy. "I have a conviction that Madolin Brierton will never come here as 8ir Aldewin's wife." "It matters but little to us whether she does or not," said Lady Forbes. "You will never be Lady Chesleigh— who else is does not concern us."

So the subject was dropped, and there was nothing left for the Forbeses but to go.

There was but little regret in the household when it was made known. The ladies were not kind, therefore they were not popular. Mrs. Bird rejoiced at their departure. She startled Elaine by her conjectures.

You see," she said, "that Sir Aidewin is in earnest. It is my opinion he has told her ladyship she must go. I should fancy that the wedding will be very soon—sooner than I thought at first. I hear that we are to have the workmen in soon. And that reminds me that you have not given me your answer yet as to whether you are willing to accept Sir Aldewin's termB. He spoke to me about it this morning, and 1 said that you were thinking it over."

Yes," she answered, faintly, "I am thinking it over. I have almost decided. I should not like to leave the child." "I knew that you would not," said Mrs. Bird, triumphantly "I told Sir Aldewin so. Then I may inform him that you have decided to remain ?"_

Eiaine was silent she was thinking whether she might venture to speak to him herself—whether she Bhould betray herself. She longed with her whole heart to speak to him, to look into his face, to listen to his voice, to direct his attention to herself. She was wondering if she had nerve to stand enough for it, if she had presence of mind and calmness sufficient but she decided that she had not. She could not trust hereeli.

You may say for me that I shall be very pleased indeed to stop and do my best for his little daughter."

Mrs. Bird, said after a few minutes. "He will be pleased, I am sure and you will enjoy yourself, Mrs. Moore. \Ve shall have great festivities when the new bride comes home."

She wondered why that promise of future enjoyment did not afford greater satisfaction to Mrs. Moore, who had turned away with a deep sigh. "For my part," said the worthy housekeeper, "I am most heartily pleased. We have had sorrow and mourning long enough here. I shall be delighted to see my master happy with a wife whom he loves."

A wife whom he loves!" The words struck Elane. How cruel they seemed! She was his wife, and he had never loved her.

She was glad when Mrs. Bird left her. Presently she was sent for. Lady Forbes was always quick to discover who was useful, ana she asked Mrs. Moore to assist her in packing up.

The next few hours were amongst the most painful of her life. She was compelled to listen to all kinds of angry words and insinuations against Madolin, and was unable to reply to any of them. It was a great relief to her when the packing was finished. [Jb b*

centtnueA in the

Sunday

form of an

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HUMOR OF THE DAY.

Leading a Calf—A Widow's Experience Among an Unballast Crowd of Detroltere.

LEADING A CALF.

Detroit Free Press. About 8 o'clock yesterday morning a woman appeared on Michigan avenue in company with a calf. In this instance the calf was a veritable animal, and was being led with a rope Whether she had taken it from the pound or was on her way to the market she didn't explain. She hadn't time to after she got down as far as Fifth street. The two had the

Along came a grocery wagon, and the hub of a wheel rubbed the calf. He jumped clear off the ground and took a half-circle around the woman, pulling her over on her side. No one offered any assistance, and when the coming car forced her to take a new position she scrambled up and got a neck-hold on the calf. He at first broke down and began to bawl, but suddenly took heart and made a run for the sidewalk, dragging her along. The crowd advised her to pincb his ears, throw him down, call for the police. She was silent and grim. She got a firm hold of his neck with both hands and pulled him back into the street in spite of

"O, yes, doctor I know all about it No underdone meat, avoid fish, and, above all, shellfish, and so on. Good day, doctor!" (Deposits thumping fee on table and exit)

HE WAS NO GOOD.

Merchant Traveler. "Wasn't Charley Green up to your house last night?" asked one young lady of another, during the hottest of the hot weather. "Yes." "How pleasant that was. I think he is juet too nice for any use." "Well, I don't," was the Bnappy ply"Why not?"

1

"O, because he is not good." "What's the matter with him?" "Why, don't you think, after he had been there about half an hour, he asked Fannie and me to take a

t,

middle

of the street and were rather enjoying the promenade, when the calf suddenly concluded that city life was too rich for his blood. He suddenly baited in his tracks and braced his fore feet at a sharp angle. The woman kept on her way for a minute, and when the strain came she lengthened that calf's neck by six inches. It was no go, however. She braced and he braced. She pulled and he pulled. By and by he began to back and gain on her. Her feet slid along for a yard or two, when she sat down and got her foot against the street car rail. It was now time for spectators to tender their sympathies and service, and remarks began to come in. "Hold to him, old woman—you've got the bulge!" "Shut your eyes and you 11 fetch him I" "Fish on your line—pull him in!

Btroll

with him. and of course we thought it meant ice-cream, for it was a lovely ice-cream night, and we were just boiling, and we went out only too quick." "And didn't you get it?" "Get it?" No. He walked us six or eight squares, and then said it would be so much fun to get weighed, and he took us into a grocery store and we got weighed, and that's all we did get Now what do you think of that kind of a man?"

BIS HEAD WAS LEVEL.

New York Truth. Wealthy citizen to young man— Are you aware, sir that I have several daughters?"

Yes sir." Can you speak French, Italian, Gei man and Spanish!" "Certainly, sir." "Are you a college graduate?" "I am." "Have you a good musical education?" "I have sir, and aa quite a good artist"

Do you understand the usages of good society "Perfectly, sir." "Then, young man, you can have the position of coachman in my family. In view of recent events, I am determined to run as few risks as possible." orz, the Incendtary, Gath. nH

The incendiary lieart of Carl Schurz was clearly exhibited in bis attempt to convict the United States government of selling arms to the French about eleven years ago. His malice to the Republican administration led him to experiment with any explosive which would generate the German vote from

Ediaon la making a curiosity in the it. He thought if be conld agitate the .. hich no sale of muskets to the two beligerent are used—all com^e of liquids, ^powara abroad tha Qtmna-Aiwtkaa

THE TERRE HAUTE EXPRESS SUNDAY MORNING, SEPTEMBER 28.1884.

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bucking. To the casual observer, he was a gone calf, but as she Btooped to tie her shoe a boy stuck a pin into him and he sailed right over her and brought such a strain to bear on the repe as to fling her down again. It was now a question as to whether she would pull his neck off or he would draw her across the street, but when the strain had continued for fifteen seconds, the rope broke and the calf went off like a deer. A policeman who had arrived too late to be of assistance thought to offer some consolation, but the woman made a pass at his nose with one of her dirt-be-smeared hands and snapped out: "Shet up! If there'd been a decent man in the crowd he'd have twisted that calf's tail for a poor lone widder without any asking." •EVERY MAN HIS OWN DOCTOR. Paris Figaro. "Well, doctor, I liave called to see you about—and. yet I hardly know why I have called, inasmuch as I am perfectly well aware what is the matter with me." "Indeed!" jth "YeS I am aflicted with eczema sozodontes, familiarly known as herpetic affection of "The great unknown malady of our epoch!" "Precisely. I have read everything that has been written upon the subject —whole libraries!" "Ah! Permit me to examine "It is not necessary to do so, doctor I am fully acquainted with my condition and symptoms. I have diagnosticated the disease, and find it to be neither stalactiform nor murciform, nor am I able to discover any indications of furfuracity and squamousness. The complaint is of the kind denominated infuriated lichen, on account of its ferocious tenacity." "Are you sure of that?" "I am willing to stake my reputation on it, doctor. Besides, all the books I have consulted are in accord on the sufoiecte" "Well, sir, then I suppose I must treat vou for infuriated lichen." "Treat me That is very easily Baid, doctor, but what treatment are you going lo adopt, eh? Alkaline solutions? They are exploded. Sulphur? It is completely out of date. Arsenic? It exercises an injurious effect on the coats of the stomach. Prof. Winckelmann, in hiB monumental work, leans strongly toward Russian baths and powerful sudorifics, but I have always doubted whether his conclusions were based upon a sufficient study. Come, doctor, which course will you adopt?" "We-ell, which would you prefer?" "I haven't been able to decide between flaxseed tea and tar-water, but suppose we try tar-water?" "Very well tar-water be it." "I will follow your advice, doctor, and buy up all the latest books on the subjet of tar-water, and read them up, and when "Yes then come to me and we will go over the subject again. (Writes prescription.) A teaspoonful morning and evening, you know. As for diet

voters would take offense^ but they were patriotic citizens of their adopted land, and knew that the vast supply of arms we possessed after the rebellion had to be sold to somebody. They probably did not know that it was a Frenchman, not unlike Schurz him self in malice and intrigue, who set Schurz on, and of course deceived him too for there was nothing in the charge, and Colonel Squire, who hasjust been madegovemor of Washington Territory, was the agent who disposed of the arms. The baffled conspirator felt that he had been fooled, but he could not hide the fact that he was the firat German in America who had tried to make political cattle out of his German fellow-citizenB and set them against the government to which he and they had sworn allegiance. For nearly thirty years the native American and the German have lived together without discord. There has been only one Arnold among the Americans let the Germans see that the example is never duplicated.

TJAKEBIDE

MUSINGS.

Chicago Tribune. y', Considerable uneasiness exists in New Jersey. Not a bank cashier has been caught robbing graves for nearly a week. "Parent"—It is not necessarily wreng for boyB to attend a leg-show. A considerable proportion of Mr. Schurz' audiences this year has been boys.

Princess Dolgorouki, now living at Lucerne, is said to be the richest woman in Eutope. The

princeFS

is

the girl the late czar of Bussia left behind him. Mr. Gladstone has gone to Penmaenmawr for a rest. If William mentioned where he was going before starting for there it is no wonder he was tired. "I notice that the Sacine track, where I trotted last week in 2:19K proposes to compromise the premiums at fifty cents on the dollar. It is indeed hard to be garroted on my native heath."—J ay-Eye-See.

The bicycle championship at the international tournament held in Springfield, Mass., Thursday was won by an Englishman. Thanksgiving will be celebrated with unusual fervor in America this year.

A preacher at Bellaire (Ohio) admits having appropriated the receipts of an oyster supper given last winter, the ihurch being behind in the payment of his salary. It is not charged, however, that he found the oyster. "Her Latest Love" is the title of a recently-issued novel. In Chicago the betting is two to one that he was not late enough for her to decline an invitation looking to the enrichment of some ice cream lair proprietor.

Justice Bradley, of the United States Supreme court, denies that he has any intention of resigning. The statement by some other member of the court that 4th of July will not come until next summer i9 confidently awaited.

Frederick Billings has given $100,000 to the University of Vermont, and the school is now on .such a fine financial basis that its base-ball club will doubtless soon take a prominent place among similar educational institutions.

The daughter of millionaire Morosini fled across the melon patch with a coachman, and the daughter of millionaire Sickles has been privately united to an assistant a butcher shop. The rrocery-clerks and front brakemen on :reight trains seemB to be unaccountably apathetic this season. Some find Love late, some find him

Boon, I

Some with the rose in May, Some with the nightingale in Jane, And some when skiee are gray Love comes to some with smiling eyes,

And comes with tears to some, For some Lore sings, for some Lore sighs, For some Lore's lips are dumb. How will you come to me, fair love?

Will yon come late or soon? With sad or smiling skies above, By light of sun or mocp Will you be sad, will you ba ewoetf .,

Sing, sigh, Love, or be dumb? Will it be summer when we meet, "J Or autumn ere you come

SUSAN B. ANTHONY.

m: i-

Mr. Blaine's Appearance.

Gath. 'f I saw Mr. Blaine a few minutes during the week. He has changed in years, but it is the change of good habits and worthy mental occupation into the hale vale of years. Three years and a half ago he walked with me from the gate of the white house, saying: "Now I will tell you the new cabinet." Then he was quite gray now he is quite white. His hair is abundant, but every hair is bleached. Apathetic feeling seized me as I looked at this sign of age and thought of the inhospitable blackguards who were engaged in the name of reform in finding phrases and falsities to abuse this gentleman while a visitor in our city. Mr. Blaine's skin is white as an egg, almost, perhaps with a touch of pink in it, but the healthy white reminded me of a new-laid egg. His eyes are still of rich reddish-black color like Delaware grapes or dark currants. His Roman nose is the military feature of his face the brow of the man is placid and fine and comely, the lower face more flexible. His love and play of humor and of responsibility chase each other upon his countenance like the tinted balls upon an ivory billiard table. He wears a black street dress of some light American-made cloth.

An Amiable

Hog.

Chicago Journal. A few days since a hen belonging to Mrs. Elck stole off under the barn, and later was found sitting on four unbroken eggs, while the piping of ten new-ly-fledged chicks came from beneath her wings. In order that she might bring out the remaining eggs, the ten chicks were taken away from her and placed in a box nicety filled with straw in Mrs. Elck's kitchen. The plaintive cries of the chickens attracted the attention of Beauty, a pet black-and-tan dog, who after sooerly inspecting the box and taking in the situation, stepped carefully into the straw and settled down among the chickens. The cries of the feathered youngsters ceased immediately, and they took to their unnatural but attentive mother at once. For several days the dog assumed watchful care over her charges, carefully tucking them down about her with her nose, and becoming visibly anxious whenever one of the more active of the birds hopped over the edge of the box upon the floor, barking loudly until some one came and replaced the venturesome chick. When the chickens were finally taken from her and placed with the mother hen, Beauty seemed completely lost

An Ambitions Shooting Iron.^41 Waterbary American. It is related that when Fantine Warmouth was examining a revolver at White Lake, New York, the other day, his small nephew and a setter dog being near him, and a young girl leasing upon the casement of a door a few feet away, it was accidentally discharged, and the ball passed through Warmouth's left hand, struck the nephew on a finger, taking it off at the second joint, pierced a hole clear through thedog'a right ear, struck a stone on the ground, glanced upward and lodged in the casement of the door, not two inches from the girl's head.

Doing It When Most Eaay. Good Words. The minister had gone to see a dying parishioner, and when he reached the cottage he found the family bathed in tears. "Is he worse?" he asked. "Oh, sir, he's just deein," was the reply, given in an agony of sorrow. Looking toward the "box bed," where the sufferer lay, he was astonished to see two men beading over it "What are they doing there?" "Eh, sir, they're just shaving bim!" "Shaving him!" Baid iter in amasement "can they spoor man die in peace?" "It's far easier noo!" was the answer which mingled with the bins.

fifispBgwPW*

DONNELLY'S 8HAKSPKARE.

Outlines of the New Book to Be Isaaod BY the HOD. Ignatius Donnelly—Alleged Proof that Bacon Wrote Sh*k•ptan't Plays—A Secret Cipher and

ItaKey.

Editor Minneapolis Tribune, A discovery has been made in this Btate which is certain to produce a world-wide sensation. The Hon. Ignatius Donnelly, of Hastings, Minn., author of "Atlantis" and "Ragnarok," found, four years ago, in the writings of Francis Bacon, a description, twice repeated, or a cipher, whereby one writing could be infolded and hidden in another, "omnia per omnia—the writing infolding holding a quintuple relation to the writing infolded."

He also noted in Bacon's "De Augmentis" (Book VI., Chap, ii.) that he was in favor of removing certain "secrets of knowledge" by "obscurity of delivery," from the capacities of the vulgar, and to "reserve them to selected auditors, or wits of such sharpness as can pierce the veil."

As Mr. Donnelly was a convert to the theory that Francis Bacon was the real author of the playB attributed to Shakspeare, as he did not believe that the writer of such works could forever renouce them, it occurred to him that this cipher rule was intended by Bacon as a hint that there was such a cipher in the plays, in which he asserted his authorship of them. Mr. Donnelly has worked for four years past with the greatest industry and perseverance, and has at last, within the last three months, fotmd the rule and solved the problem.

Lately Mr. Donnelly wss visited at his residence by Appleton Morgan, the author of "The Shaksperean Myth," and himself a disbeliever in the Shakspeare authorship, though, as he has expressly stated, by no means committed to a Baconian authorship. Mr. Morgan looked at first rather skeptically at Mr. Donnelly's work, but ultimately expressed himself as satisfied that, "if it was not a cipher—written into the plays examined by the method described by Bacon in the Sixth Book, Chap II., of his 'De Augmentis'—it was a most marvelous sequence of identical coincidences, and one forbidden by any known or conjectured law of chances."

The law of chances, in fact, makes it impossible that whole consecutive, coherent sentences could be worked out by a consistant rule if there was no

C1^The

words of the bidden story hold

a fixed and regular relation to the scenes and acts of the playB, to be determined by counting hence the results are not matter of guesswork, but as demonstrable as a sum in arithmetic.

The play Mr. Donnelly has been principally working on is the first part of "Henry IV." He was attracted to this play by the fact that within a few pages (act 2, scenes 1, 2, and 4, and act 4, scene 2), he found the words "Francis," "Bacon" (twice repeated), Nicholas" (twice repeated), "Bacon son," "master," "kings," -'exchequer St. Albans"—the latter, as is well known, being the name of Bacon place of residence. In act 2, scene 4, he found the name "Francis" (Bacon first name), repeated on one page twenty times which in a scene in the "Merrv Wives" (act 4, scene 1), the name "William" (the first name of 8hakspeare) is represented eleven times in one short verse, aB if by one reiteration of these two names to call attehtion to the fact that there was a cipher in the plays. The name of Shakspeare occurs as "Shake snj* "speare" or "sphere," or as "shakes and "peer," and these combinations are found in every one of the plays. It was upon these clews Mr. Donnelly labored until he has discovered the rule and worked out enough of the cipher story to show that the play scontain a narrative of Bacon's own life and a secret history of the reign of Elizabeth.

It seems that Elizaoeth during the Essex troubles became, aB is known, incensed at the use made of the play of "Richard II.," in which is represented the deposition and killing of the king and she made it one of the points of prosecution which cost Essex his head, that he had hired the company of players to which Shakspeare belonged, to represent it "more than forty times in open streets and in tavern yards, in order to prepare the public mind for her own deposition ana nlurder. History tells us that she caused the arrest of Haywarde, who wrote a prose narrative of the deposition of Richard II., and dedicated it to Essex, and he narrowly escaped a state prosecution. The cipher, as worked out by Mr. Donnelly, shows that at the same time Shakspeare was arrested as the author of the plays he was threatened with the torture, and disclosed to the officers of the crown the fact that Bacon was the real author of the plays. Bacon threw himself on the protection of his uncle, Lord Burleigh, the great Lord Treasurer, who saved him from exposure and prosecution, but revealed the truth to Elizabeth and this is the explanation of the fact that, as long as Elizabeth lived, she kept Bacon out of office and in poverty.

Such a discovery would oe the most extraordinary in modern literature it would settle the long-vexed question of the authorship of the plays and the disclosures that would then be revealed by the cipher narrative might even reconstruct the history of the reign of the greatest queen of England. Bacon alludes to her, in the cipher, as "the jade," "the wanton,' "the old termagant," etc., and narrates, among other things, the well-known scene where she struck Essex a box on the ear for turning his back upon her. Bacon doubtless wrote in cipher that which would have brought his head to the block if written in any other way*

Air. Donnelly has kept his secret from all but a few personal friends, and it was not his intention to have revealed his discovery until he had worked out the whole story, and until his book containing it was ready for publication but he has recently been nominated for congress in the Third district for Minnesota, and will be engaged in the canvass for some time to come, and this will necessarily delay his work. On the advice of his friends, therefore, he has consented to file a caveat, so' far as to permit the announcement of the fact that such a cipher has unquestionably been found.

His book will probably not be ready for publication until next springy or summer, for the work of translating the cipher is a very slow and tedious one every word has to be carefully counted, for the miscount of a single word would throw out' the work of whole pages.

Reade's Generosity.

John Coleman in Lippincott's Magazine. A poor actor in great straits wrote only a few months back imploring help in the name of the dead. He received by return of post a bank note, merely inscribed, "A voice from Willesden churchyard."

A literary man, then dying and since dead, got his wife to write to Mr. Reade, asking the loan of a few pounds. She received for answer, "Madame—I never lend

-v-.«r

money, except on good se­

curity-, but please band the inclosed to your husband." The husband opened thel etter and found a check for £30, with a hasty scrawl: "D«ur X.—A dear dead friend has left a little fund at my disposaL If she were alive I know she would send you the enclosed I am therefore only carrying out her wishes. I eend it upon one condition —that you get down to Margate immediately and save your life for the sake of your wife, who is an excellent woman."

A poor lady, whom we had both known well in the heyday of her youth and beauty, the widow of a mutual friend, a distinguished actor and manager, "bad married again in haste and repented at leisure." This haughty and imperious beauty wasatruck down by a mortal malady. She wrote one lice: "Dear Charles Reade,—I am ill, dying, in want." He was in her miserable garret fS aoon aa &e first ban-

som could take him there. Two hours afterward he had removed her to decent apartments, and placed her under the charge of a Sister of Mercy and one of the most eminent physicians in London. It was too late to save, but not too late to soothe her last moments and surround her with everything Reade's generous care could provide.

One instance concerns myself. At a critical period oi my life I had lost my whole fortune in a disastrous enterprise which left me high and dry without a shilling. I had dined at Albert Gate the night before. Next morning, Reade burst into my room and planked a bag of sovereigns on the table, quite sufficient to enable me to tide over my immediate necessities, exclaiming abruptly, "I saw you seemed rather gene last night there, that's something to buy postage stamps with and if you want any more, there's plenty left where that came from." And he was gone before I had time to reply.

r- Escaping the Asylnm. Kingston Freeman. A peculiar case is reported from Sullivan county. Two Monticello doctors were called upon to examine a citizen aB to his sanity, his friends averring that he acted strangely of late. The physicians said that the best place for some time to come for the patient would be the Middletown insane asylum. While the examination waB in progress in one of the doctor's offices, a resident of an adjoining village stepped in to obtain a prescription for some trifling ailment. In making out the commitment papers the examiners of the insane patient pot the names mixed, the certificate of insanity being made out in the name ot the man who was all right mentally.

The papers were given to the officers, and they proceeded to look up "their man," he in the meantime having coolly walked out of the doctor's office. He met the officers on the street and passed a joke with them about the hot wave, remarking that he thought he would take a trip to Coney Island, and regretted that the official duties of the officers prevented them from going along. After an hour's search the officers found the gentleman whose name had been put in the certificate of insanity through mistake, and they told him they wanted him to take a walk and "a nice ride." Fearing that they were bunco men or some of the sharpers following in the wake of John J. O'Brien's circus, which is makingthe tour of the river counties on the west side of the Hudson, he refused to have anything to do with them. Finally the officers showed the asylum papers, and suggested that the best way would be to go along quietly. The "patient" protested vehemently that a mistake had been made, and the officers were only partially convinced that a blunder had been perpetrated when a Post Jervis gentleman came along and tried to convince them of the fact A hurried trip was made to the doctor's office, where profuse apologies were tendered to the Sullivan county farmer, who had narrowly escaped being locked up in the asylum. The officers had "heard just such stories before." The lunatic meanwhile made the most of his time, but instead of going to New York, on his way to the seashore, he took an opposite direction. The officers succeeded in catching him.

An Astonishing Story.

Petland Revisited. A dog belonging to the B—B, which was a great favorite of theirs and regarded as of thoroughly irreproachable training, was charged by some of their neighbors with worrying sheep at night. The family rebutted this charge on the ground that the dog was fastened into their kitchen at night, and was never let out until the servants came down in the morning.

The farmers, however, persisted that they knew the dog well, and had seen him going from the sheepfold, though he had managed to escape them. When this was urged so strongly as to make it imperative on the B—s to take some further steps, one of the daughters volunteered to Bleep in the kitchen and watch the dog's behavior.

When they made up the young lady's bed, the dog seemed very restless and strange, but by and by he settled down, and all was silent.

A little after midnight he got up, came to the bed. and sniffed about until he had satisfied himself that the lady was not awake. Then he leaped into the window seat, lifted the catch of the shutters, and opened them. Then he undid the latch of the window, which he opened, and disappeared.

After a long interval he came back, closed and fastened the window and shutters, and finished by licking his own feet, and the marks which he bad left by springing on the floor. To the terror of the seeming sleeper, he now came and closely scrutinized her but she kept still, and he at last crept off to his own bed.

As soon as she heard the servants stirring, the lady rose softly and slipped through the door. But the guilty dog had marked her. He sprang up and made a dash at her with most undisguised fury, for he saw that his secret was discovered and his character blasted by one whom he now regarded as a hateful spy.

Fortunately, she got the door fast shut in time, and at once alarmed the house. But the dog was now so furious that no one dared go into the kitchen, and at last a gun was brought, pointed through an aperture, and ne was Bhot dead. The FirstNapoleon a True Prophet. St. Jamee's Gazette.

A very curious fragment of Napoleon's table talk is brought to mind by the present position of affairs in Central Asia. The emperor happened to speak of the way in which Alexander besought him at Tilsit to let Russia seize Constantinople. "Alexandre a fort desire Constantinople de moi," said Napoleon and he then went on to show how Russia might gradually sap our power in India. The subject interested bim, and he spoke at great length, laying down strategic details of the moat minute description. His idea was that when Russia had firmly established herself within striking distance of our frontier she might bring absutan insurrectionand offer England her kind assistance in quelling the revolt: He said: "De tontes les puissances la Russie est la plus re doutable, Burtout, pour lea Anglais. Tout cela je l'avais prevu. Je vois dans 1'aVenir plus loin que les autres."

There is no doubt but that he was right He certainly did see further into the future than any statesman of whom we have knowledge. The predictions which he made during this memorable conversation form very suggestive reading at the present time, for they are being fulfilled one by one.

How Fevers are Spread

London Truth. The Brownes's eldest girl is ill with scarlet fever, and they have traced the origin of the disease to their laundress, who casually and simply remarked to the Brownes's housemaid that she was late in bringing home the clothes owing to the immense "wash" she had •had from one or her "families," where three children had had scarlet fever. These people took their children to the Seaside to convalesce, and sent blank ets, sheets, counterpanes—in fact, everything possible—to the laundress.

Now, would it not have been more thoughtful to have had some woman in to wash these infectedf things, rather than spread contagion by sending them out.

Fifty years ago a Boston man wrote of the new railroads: "The rich and poor, the educated and the ignorant, the polite and the vulgar, all herd together in this modern improvement in traveling, and all this for the sake of doing very uncomfortably in two days what would be done delightfully in eight or ten dar»."

The late Miss Victoria Morofcini, now Mis. Huelakamp, is twwenty-seven years old, and evidently able to take oar* of hamlf.

iVCMt 1

THE WORLD'S DEBT.

An Aggregate Som of •S7,15fl,000,000— How the Money WM Employed. Philadelphia Preee.

Few of the members of the British association are better known by name in the United States than Michael G. Mulhall, the statistician. Mr. Mnlhall is the author of three of the most popular books on statistics yet printed in any language: "Balance Sheet of the World," "Progress of Nations," and the "Statistical Dictionary." His "Statistical Dictionary" is the first work of the kind ever published. Nearly all other branchs of science have their dictionaries, bnt statistical science had none until Mr. Mnlhall filled the want In appearance Mr. Mulhall is strikingly like Gen. Grant, as we knew the latter fifteen vears ago. Mr. Mulhall has been a great traveler. He founded the first English newspaper in South America, at Buenos Ayres, the Standard, more than twenty years ago, and he and his brother are the present owners. There are few parts of the world that he is not familiar with, though this is bis first visit to the United States.

Mr. Mulhall is accompanied by his wife, a lady well known in the literary world of London as a brilliant conver sationalist and the author of "Between the Amazon and the Andes," an exceedingly clever book of travel in South America. She penetrated re-

S'onsMulhall

hitherto unexplored by a woman. !rs. is a woman of noble presence, with Btrongly cut, expressive features and finely shaped head.

In a conversation with the great statistician the Press representative in quired what particular branch of economics he was investigating at the present time. "I have recently," responded Mr. Mulhall, "been making a close study of the debts of nations from the treaty of Utrecht in 1713 to the present time." "What has been the increase since then

The total national debt of the world, not estimating local debts of any kind in 1718, was $595,000,000 in 1763, they hadrisen to $1,415,000,000 in 1793, to $2,845,000,000 in 1816, to $7,135,000,000 in 1818, to $8,245,000,000 in 1870, to $19,150,000,000, and in 18S4 I find they had reached the appalling aggregate of $27,155,000,000." "The increase, then, has been greater of recent years?" "Yes. From the treaty of Utrecht till the French revolution, a period of eighty years, the

debtB

The year 1848 marks anew epoch in the economy of nations the political convulsions all over Europe, the introduction of railways, the discovery of new gold fields, the birth of free trade moreover, the abolition of serfs in varieus countries, the invention of electric telegraphs, the outflow of emigrants to America and the British colonies, the spread of popular education and cheap newspapers all these circumstances occurring almost simultaneously, gave a great impetuB to human industry -and enterprise. From 1848 to 1884 the debts have risen almost $19,000,000,000, or $515,000,000 per annum, and the money found employment as follows':

E A E

Russian serfs '.. .S 425,000,000 Lighthouses and harbors 190,000,000 Roads and bridges 3,600,000,000 Railways and telegraphs 4,850,000,000 British colonies 1,440,000,000 Sundries 520,000,000

Total

himself au

of nations rose

$2,250,000,000—that is, almest $30,000, 000 a year. During the ensuing twen ty-two years, down to the battle of Waterloo, there was a rise of $4,340,000,000 or $200,000,000 perannum. From Waterloo down to the present the increase has been $20,000,000,000, oral most $300,000,000 yearly." "How will this piling up of debts end "At this rate the amount of puolic debts in 1900 will be considerably over $35,000,000,000. I do not, however, see any reason for alarm. It must be borne in mind that since 1848 the increase of wealth in Europe has been four and one-half times greater than the growth of debt. If the debt goes on increasing from now till 1900 at the rate of $600,000,000 a year and public wealth at $2,700,000,000, Europe will be richer at the end of the century than at present." "For what has this immediate debt been expended "To seme extent on wars, but the sum I have mentioned by no means represents the cost of the warB, which was in a great measure defrayed out of revenue. For example, it will be found that from 1813 to 1815 British wars cost $5,980,000,000, of which our ancestors paid $2,620,000,000 and drew on posterity for the remainder. In like manner the Napoleonic wars cost France $1,275,000,000, and added only $540,000,000 to the French debt." "Does the same hold true in later years?"

$10,525,000,000

Ml.

Crimean..... ... United States Fran co-German Rnsso-Turkish Iron-clad ships Son dries

$ 1,525,000,000 2,870,000,000 1,910,000,000 1,055,000,000 680,000,000 1,875,000,000

Total 9,865,000,000 "It may be fairly said that sixty per cent, of the existing debts stand for war expenditures and forty per cent, for reproductive works." "How do the debts of the several nations of the world compare with their wealth?"

The debt ratio to wealth per cent, at the present time is as follows: United Kingdom, 8.4 per cent France, 11.9 Germany, 5.2 Russia, 12.2 Austria, 13.8 Italy, 18.5 Spain, 20 8 Portugal, 28.5 Holland, 8.4 Beigium, 9.4 Denmark, 3. Sweden and Norway, 2 Greece, 8 5 Europe, 10.6 United States, 2.9 Canada, 35.6 Australia, 18 3 Argentine Republic, 7.9

Uruguay, 14.3. Total, 9.3. Here we see that there are only eight countries in which the debt ratio is up to 10 per cent, of the national wealth. The national debt of the United States, when compared with the wealth of the country, is only 2.9 per cent, lower than anv other country included in my inquiry." "After studying the subject, what are your conclusions "The conclusions which I think I may draw are four—namely: That national debts are not to be viewed with such horror as our grandfathers and grandmothers entertained regard ing them that they offer a convenient mode of investment for British capital and are generally secure that the increase of debt in Europe has not injured the working classes that we may expect to Bee national debts increase at least $100,000,000 a year daring the reBt of the nineteenth century."

An Interview .With Liszt, St. Jamee Gazette. Liezt is now staying at Weimar, and a day or two ago was "interviewed" by a correspondent of the Figaro at his hotel on the Karls Platz. The hotel wae besieged with journalists, musicians and friends anxious to have a word with the veteran musician. Liszt, however, is an early bird, and had gone for a walk in the town, in spite of the strong wind and the pouring rain. For, Bays the correspondent, the illustrious one is indefatigable, and, notwithstanding bis great age, be loves to take an airing every day for an hour or two, winter and summer, often alone, and quite regardless of beat or cold. "Tell them in Paris," he said, "that I am not yet blind. I see well enough in spite of the inevitable feebleness which results from my age. My eves are not attacked by an organic disease and wish to reassure my dear friends in Paris that the news of my malady has surprised me greatly. "Quant a ma sant^i, elle est too jours bonne, Dien merci." "As lie spoke lie smiled, says the interviewer, "his toward me, l. tine bead set off by bis white hair, his whole face beaming

rUrie, that birthplace of

ijtSLpape™"d^teboSrhi lol-.

a

ows closely its artistic evolution, particularly its musical life,

and

couvant

of ail that is writte£

by French composers. On the little table upon whiefche leant his elbows lay a roll of music paper. The numerOUB shw were covered, and the notes which filled the staves were traced in large characters, written neatly and firmly. The correspondent then asked whether there was any probability of the production of a new work fiom his hand. "Next year, perhaps," he replied smiling "thia year it is too late."

THE CHRISTIAN BROTHERS,

Origin and Progress of an Order Whose Obj'ctls to Educate the Young. National Republic.

The Christian Brothers, whose establishment in this city, under the much respected Brother Tobias, is well known, are becoming recognized all over the world as an important factor in the educational systems. They received due recognition at the recent conference in London in connection with the health exhibition there, a division of which was devoted to education. The system of the brothers, as shown in that exhibition, is described by a metropolitan paper as "common sense applied to education." The constitution, polity, and general policy are described as being markea by several features which ought to commend it to the warm sympathy of Englishmen. The institute is a society of teachers founded in France upwards of two hundred years ago by the venerable Dr. La Salle, who at the time he instituted his great work, was cannon of the Metropolitan church at Rheims, but eventually divested himself of his priestly office ia order to bring himself into harmony with the character of the society, aB well as to devote his entire energies to its welfare. The infamous way in which the education of the poor was neglected in the reign of Louis XIV. appealing to the heart of La Salle, gave the world an educational reformer who was far indeed ahead of his ape—as a matter of fact, his methods, in many instances, are only now beginning to recommend themselves to educationalists.

La Salle's great aspiration was to or ganize a body of teachers who would labor as apostles, and not as mere mercenaries and though the stigma of "mercenary" can by no stretch of phrase be applied to the great mass of our teachers in the present day, it must be confessed that the almost unique, self-sacrifice of the brethren in the cause of education entitles them to an exceptional place in the regard of all men and women, whatever their creed, who aim at the elevation of humanity. "Salary" is a word without meaning to them food, raiment, lodging, and intellectual recreation provided, all their requirements are met. Marriage, domestic felicity, the family life—they deliberate!*/ put away from them community life among themslves iB alone their portion. They are known, as a rule only by Christian names bestowed upon them haphazard when they join the Bociety, sometimes with the most cruel results—Brother Potamain. for instance, does not praise his "godfathers" "who gaive him that name"—and they lead quiet and unostantatious but useful lives.

The order at present possesses 1,175 schools and colleges, with 328,800 pupils, directed by 11,233 brothers. France and her colonies naturally have got the great bulk of these—953 houses, 8,833 brothers and 246,307 pupils and the rest of the continent— Belgium, Italy, Spain, and Austria, takes 236 houses, 922 brothers, and 42,229 scholars. But the United States has seventy houses, 698 brothers, and 26,338 scholars, and Canada tweBty-six houses, 273 brothers, and 10,190 scholars. Then there are eleven schools in South America, nine in Turkey, Bix in Egypt, five in India, and two in China. England has only seven houses, sixty-two brothers and 1,774 scholars. Schools of the Christian brothers are well known in Ireland, but they are directly identified with the organization under notice. The institutions managed by the brothers comprise primary schools, orphanages and poor schools, deaf and dumb schoolB, boarding and collegiate schools, training colleges, art schools, agricultural colleges and technical shools. The object of the schools, no doubt, is religious propaganda but as a matter of fact, it is declared that they are not prosetizing institutions at all. Only threequarters of an hour out of the six hours daily during which the schools are at work is given up to religious observance and instruction. In the European school the pupils are chiefly Catholics. In the schools elsewhere, however, a considerable proportion of non-Catholics attend. In St Louis out of a total of 250 there are eighty-five of other religious denominations. a 5

The Congressional Budget Washington Letter in Boston Budget A cool, pleasant resort these scorching days is the congressional library, which is open every day in the week. The single room of the past generation, where the books were surrounded with wooden shelving, has grown into three spacious halls, four stories high, lined throughout with alcoves of solid iron and crammed from end to end with books behind books in double rows, while 60,000 volumes (or a library three times as large as that saved from the flames thirty years ago) are stacked in daily increasing piles upon the floors. Librarian Spofford and his assistant officers are crowded and embarrassed in the daily discharge of their duties by the encroaching army of literature, which will soon usurp every foot of room within its present meagre limits in the Capitol. In addition to the copyright books, Mr. Spofford has taken the ground that it is the business of the library of the United States to possess all the literature that the country has produced. Thus this institution is found constantly competing at almost every public auction for copies of books, pamphlets and journals which are continually poured out of the countless private collections of the country into the marts of public competition. Not oniy so, but still larger importations are made from the bookf**# shops of England and the continent, many of which are rich in what are known aB Americans.

Ar

The Cardinal Prince.

New York Letter to Philadelphia Press. l*~S Now and then there officiates in that magnificent place at the most expensive, the most delicately designed, the most beautifully fashioned altar in the world, the prince cardinal, McCloskey. The old man, the good priest, the eminent churchman, the princely prelate, is there. The long yeare of his life have produced no detractor. No Btigma reete upon his reputatiofl, no blur •pon his character. From his earliest years known as a son of the church peculiarly pious, singularly modest and exceptionally devoted to the interests of the service to whicb he has devoted his existence, this dear father, beloved by everybody who has been so fortunate as to meet him, helpful to the poor, helpful to the rich, helpful to his city and his country, helpful to his church, has gradually approached the dividing line over which most men bolt and die. But he, like the 'ading glories of the sun at night, tnms to me to be paesing gently, imperceptibly, but surely from life here to life everlasting there, as a spirit might move in one's dream, across the threshold of an unopened door. Surely there can be no change in hiB life-thought, nor in the habit of his davs or the prayers and symphonic of'his mVhta when he goes to the sphere beyond.

Valu»"'»

vog.

London Truth. Toe late air's jauioua Danish

aog,

which was with bim when he was asaaaBinated, died last week at Lucerne. It has belonged to Princess Dolgorouki •inca the death of its master, and was great pet with the princess and her chi'4"'n. The animal's akia «to fee atoSsd.