Daily Wabash Express, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 4 July 1886 — Page 3

GATHERING ROSES.

•. O, the deliciousneea Of the fresh season! Bed rosea, white rosea,

Boeea past reason. Oat of my gardenful, Sweetheart, the sweetest cull— 8 wee tent for posies. O, the unepeaksble, Untold delioiousneee,

Gathering rosea 1

Where shall she stoop to ottll See where she lingers, Now over this one with

Waverine fingers, Now oyer that one—ah, All are so beautiful! Which shall my sweetheart cull,

Sweetest for posies? O, the nndreamable, Undreamt deliciousnees,

Gathering roses!

Frail, odoriferous, Sweet briared roses Thorn-si added, cluster-leaved,

Pink pttar roses! Nay, sweotheart, have a care! Touch not the elegantiere, Touch not the witching snare, Pluck not that rose for me It will be pricking thee,

Making my posies. All are so beautiful, Which shall my sweetheart cull,

Sweetest for posies? O, the untunable, Unsung deliciousness,

Gathering roses!

Gold-hearted, plush petaled Marechal Niel roses, Sharply upon your stem

The hard scissor closes Moss crested, moon-colored Nonpareil roses. Fair as the day-couch

Where Cynthia reposes Virgins immaculate, Pale climbing roses. There the tired butterfly

Thoughtlessly dozes Passionate, deep-centred Jacqueminot roses, No sweeter, no crueler

Blossom uncloses.

Nay, little sweetheart ininf! Not with the scissor-tips pluck we the sweetest rose

Dear, it blooms upon your lipsSweetest rose in Paradise, Cruelest rose in Paradise And this moment, stooping down, Lo! I cull it for mine own,

Spite of thorns wichin your eyesCull me a whole heartful, Life's sweotest posies! O, the ineffable Eden deliciousness,

Gathering roses! —JOretia Key Bell, in New York Sun.

NIGHT AND MORNING.

If you Baw her on the street Yon would say Fairer damsels you may meet

Every day.

She is all of thirty-eight, And her figure's nothing great, While her raiment's out of date

Ana too gay.

Bhe is somewhat commonplace In her talk, And there's very little grace

In her walk

Then her intellect is weak, And her language is unique There is powder en her cheek

Made of chalk.

But upon

the stagf.

night

I opine

She's a being beauteous bright And divine For she wears a tinsel crown, An abbreviated gown, And the swllest gweliH in town

Buy her wins.

lMMfflWHCT.

A. NOVitlj.

By CHAELOTTE BBAEME,

AUTHOR OF "EORA TH0KNE."

CHAPfER X. THE INTERVIEW.

It was after 9 when Hope Charteris tamed down the green lane that led to the cottage. She had dressed herself plainly,

sot

in her usual style, so that she should not be recognized she had waited until •dark, so that anyone meeting her accidentally would not know her again. There was no possible precaution that chs did not take.

Her first words to Jane Elster were' "Are you quite alone? Are the boys !jgone?" "There is no one here," replied an?, «and no one can come in. I have locked the door." "That is right," said Hops "and, now, as'a precaution, let me ssk you to lay aside ceremony aoil addreai rue without any name bo one can be too cautious some perso might ha passing by or come tip to the door wL'iie we were speaking, and my name is well known." "I will

remember,"

But Hope's face grew clouded over ^rith shame. "I have never seen him since the day I i» she said, laid him in your arms, musingly. "No poor little, lovely fellow." "But," interrupted Hope, "he is happy, is he not? You are kind to him, I am sure and he knows nothing, he suspects nothing." "No," was the grave reply. "He calls me mother, and he believes that I am. his mother. I am very kind to him but anyone can see he is not one of us, and although he has been brought up with us, still I never think the child feels quite at home." ''But he has never known anything diffetent? he has known no other life?" said Hope, anxiously. "No, madam but tastes difler, and they were born with him." "You mean that his refinement is in

Hate," said Miss Charteris and Jane, smiling amiably, replied. "I dare say that is what I mean though long words are not much in my line." "You have carefully kept your word

and have never mentioned Biversmead since you left it?" "Never once," she replied.

Then Hope Charteris sat musing tor some time. "Jane Elster," sheiaid. "the time has come when I must trust you more than 1 once thought of doing. I do not know what you will think of me. I must risk all that, only remember always that i. acted for the best."

She sighed deeply, and looked at the fire perhaps the weight of the secret, carried through long years, oppressed her. "I do not wish to speak of my sister, she said. "You called her Mrs. Maxwell, you can can call her the same now, if you will. Her secret is her own. I was her nearest and dearest, yet I never knew it. I cannot, then, tell it to you. I do not know whether she was married, or to whom, or why such a mystery existed all I know is, what happened."

And again Miss Charteris^ sat for some minutes quite

silent,

watching the glow

of the fire. "Ah you know," she said, my sister was dangerously ill when this boy Verner was born, so ill that we had no hopes of her life her one idea was that her baby was dead, she had never seen it^ heard it, or remembered anything about it, so that her first impression was, that it was dead. She was "so ill that I feared to disturb that impression I feared to tell her that it was living her mind was so completely made up to the fact of his death. "I know," continued Miss Charteris, anxiously, "that you will blame me, but it was to save her, and I did it, Heaven knows, for the best. The truth is, my sister does not know the child is living— and bhe must never know it you hear that, Jane? It would be certain death to her, and to more than herself, perhaps."

Jane Elster's comely face had grown pale. "I may tell you," continued Miss Charteris, "that she a great lady now, that she has a husband who loves her, and children of whom any mother would be proud. If ever she knew this, Jane, she would go mad, or die. We have kept her secret all these years—we must keep it still." "Poor, lovely little fellow/' said Jane, with tears in her eyes. "But he is happy," interrupted Hope, quickly, "he has all he needs, and, of course, I shall provide for him, better even than this mother could." "To have a mother living in the world, and not to know it, never to see her, never to hear her speak, seems very hard." "He will not misa her, because he has never known her," she replied. "He shall want for nothing. I will put him in the way of following any profession he chooBes he shall never be at a loss or at a stand still, and when he is a little older I shall sell out some shares I have in the funds, and, through some lawyer whom I may trust, settle on him an annunity of three hundred a year, so that he will never want for anything." "I do not see how it can be managed," said Jane, thoughtfully. "We must trust to the chapter of accidents for that," replied Miss Charteris* "I suppose you mean that people woula be curious, thinkiDg he is your own son, and begin to wonder how you can afford this and the other for him." "That is what I mean tfny make remarks now about my sending him to Dr. North's school. My own son, too, is often curious he often wonders why Verner may have what is denied to him."

Miss Charteris looked up, impatiently. "I have told you that money is no object to me—the preservation of my secret is everything. Let your son have all he wants I will pay for it he will never know but what you provide it for him yourself. When the time comes for me to help him I ohall do it, so that no responsibility rests on you." "I do not want Rob to grow suspicious, and tease me," said Jane Elster. "Ceitainly not. If you will tell me what your son chooses in life, I shall providefor him. Is he clever?"

All the mother's pride shone in her face, as she answered: "Yes: but it is in such a different way to Verner." "I have been making, silently, some inquiries about Doctor North's school, and I find that there are two scholarships. If Verner should gain one, and go to college it will be a grand thing for him. In that case I shall send him, anonymously, all that he will require. Mind, Jaue, that he wants for nothing. I have a large fortune, as you know, and I would spend it all in keeping my sister's secret, and providing for the boy. Now I have settled all I came to say.

You

slid Jane Eistsr.

Hope Charteris took a chair, and sat down opposite to Mrs. Elster she unfastened her shawl and untied her bonnet strings, althougl^she did not raise her •eil. "Now,"

Bhe

said, "about this boy.

Tour letter pleased me. I am glad to Ihear such a good account of him.' "He is one of the nicest bojs I ever ®aw," said Jane, "very handsome, and very clever indeed. I am afraid he is too clever. You will never make a tradesman or anything of that kind of him lie writes-poetry." "Write3 poetry 3" repeated Miss Charteris "Oh, dear, dear—" "Doctor North says he is a genius," continued*Jane, evidently very uncertain as to how this news would be receiveh. "Worse and worse," said Hope. •«I should like you so much to see him he looks like a young prince."

remember yQur.fidelity is plighted to me. You must sooner suffer death, Jane, than allow our secret to escape you."

She looked so strong, so brave, so reliable herself, that Jane Elster caught some of her spirit. "I have been true as Steel to you until now," she replied, "and I will be true until I die," "I believe you," said Hope Charteris, clasping the brown, toil-stained hand in hers. "It

was

a fortunate hour that led

you to me." "You have been very good to me, said Jane Elster, greatefully. "I owe my pretty home, and my quite, easy life, and all my son's good education to you."

Miss Charteris rose from her seat. Imust be going," she said "it is growing late. Jane, I should like to see some of the boy's writing, some of his poetry, before I go. Of course it is all nonsense, and you must not encourage him in it but I should like to see it." 'I will fetch his books," said Jane "they are in the passage."

She soon returned with a parcel of books in her hand. She gave one open to Miss Charteris. "This was his first," she said I think you would have loved him, if you had seen him reading it to me. He looked so proud, so shy, so beautiful."

Hope Charteris read the poem. It was the bird's song put into words—fall of the gladness and beauty of June. As she read it, a strange expression came over her face—one of mingled sadness and pride. "Jane," she said, softly, "I was mistaken. Never discourage him. The boy is a poet, and a genius. I—I should like to look at him without his seeing me, if I can."

Jane Elster stoic softly into the little ghamber both boys were fast asleep. "You can see him," she said, "without any danger."

Hope Charteris went quietly into the the little room. He was lying with his

golden brewn curb tapgledon the pillow his beautiful face flushed with slumber 1 the sweet lips half open one hand, white and slender as that of a young prince, lay on the counterpane As Hope looked at him, tears rose to her eyes.

Did there come to her a vimoa of her sister's other son, sleeping in his bed of down, in that chamber set aside for the heir of Avjnwold? Did she see her Bister's lovely face bending over that other son. while her loving hands caressed him, and her lips whispered gentle words?

It must have been so, for she turned away with a heavy heart, and tvars that could not be controlled. "Is he not beautiful?" asked Jane, proudly, as they stood ones more in the little kitchen. "Too beautiful and too gifted to go nameless through the world," she replied, sadly. "Good-by, Jane. You do your dutj faithfully, and I will reward you handsomely for keeping my sister's secret safe."

CHAPTER XI.

^,,. ROB'S IMPRESSIONS. *So well had Bob Elster counterfeited

sleep, that his mother never faintest suspicion of his having seen her visitor.

But Bob had opened his eyes he had cought one glance of the face just as Miss Charteris, half blinded by a mitt of tears, was bending over "Verner# "It's not me," he said to himself "whoever else she is come for, it is not me. It is all Verner. Why should a strange lady come to see Verner in his sleep?"

And from that moment a haunting idea possessed him that there was a secret, and he would find it out.

Once thoroughly convinced of that, the whole power of Rob's shrewd, quick, clever mind, was brought to bear upon it. A thousand little incidents across him that added fuel to the of his curiosity.

flames

How was it that everyone said that he, Verner, was so unlike himself/ ne neither resembled John Elster, bis wife, nor his son. Whom was he like?

Had

his mother any secret in her lite/

Had

she been mariied twice? No, that was not possible. There was only one year's difference, he had heard her say so often, between Verner and himselt. She

could

father,

second

not possibly have lost his

married

again, and have lost her

husband,

all in one year.

Besides, the secret seemed most certainly to coucern no one Vut Verner himself he wa ntin it. Nor did he believed there was anything in his mother's life that she need conceal.

Yet, when he come to think it over, there were ic.-.ny mysteries. In the first place, although bhe spoke continually ol his father, she never would tell where that father died. She always evaded the question by sayiDg: "I cannot bear to talk of the place. Do not ask me, Rob it was so horrible.

That had satisfied him for years- it would content him no longer. A certain conviction seized him that the whole key to the mystery lay in finding the place where his mother had lived when his father died. "I'll find it out, sooner or later," he said to himself. 4It may be years first, but 111 know it in the end."

With the true tact of cunning he set himself to watch he said no word to his mother of what he had seen, but he resolved to keep a silent, shady, careful watch.

The result of that was, his suspicions Were confirmed. There was some almost imperceptible difference between his mother's treatment of Verner and himself. He could hardly define or describe it: but he saw that she was most careful of Verner, yet that she seemed to love

While he spent much of his time in thinking and dreaming, Verner was steadily at work. "It may be a golden secret, said Rob to himself "no one knows. Perhaps for the keeping of it, or the telling of it, I may some day get money and live without work. How does my mother live?"

He asked her, and Mrs. Elster, nuzzled and wondering what the boy had in his mind, told him, as she told everyone else, she had a small pension that would die with her. "So you boys must work hard at school," she said, "and make yourselves independent of me my fortune dies with

"From where is it?" he asked, curiously. "You talk about that pension, mother who pays it to you, and what is it paid for?"

A sudden fear assailed her, as to why her boy asked such questions. What evil spirit of wonder and curiosity was coming to him? "Is it the railway company my father worked for?" he said, "or had he saved money, or what?"

Mrs. Elster's face grew very pale. "Robert, I do not like these questions," she replied. "Boys ought not to give way to idle curiosity." "I don't see much curiosity in asking that question," he said, roughly. "Most boys know how their parents live. Why should not 1 "Because, above all other boys, it is your duty to trust me, and not annoy me." "All right," he replied, carelessly. "I was not sure before," he thought to himself, "but I am sure now. There is a secret, and my mother lives on its price. The same source that finds her money shall find it for me."

His ambition took no higher form than desiring to appear at races and bet on dog fights, to smoke cheap, strong cigars, to wear a gaudy pin, a yellow chain and a ring. "I shall look like a gentleman, then,' hold

he said, "and I shall know how to my own." In the meantime, Verner was in a fair way for obtaining the scholarship. His devotion to books was something wonderful. He was up with the lark in the summer, out in the garden under the trees in the winter, coiled up in an easy-chair, always study, study—nothing else.

Rob held him in deepest contempt. "A fellow with a book always in his hands knows nothing of life," said that hero. "You will never be worth your salt, Ver, until you have given up so much reading."

The scholarship was decided by grand public examination, at which most of the leading gentlemen of the county assisted. It was their generous custom, whan the scholarship was gained by a poor youth, to subscribe something hand some for his college expenses—a great assistance to those whose parents pos sessed only limited means.

There was great excitement in the town when the examination took place. Verner had worked hard. All his.hopes were on it. If he failed, there was nothing before him but a hard life of manual labor, distasteful in the extreme, for he loved nothing but books.

If he won, ah! then the world wa3 all before him he could choose,what royal read he liked. Literature'attracted him. If he might spend his life among the books he loved, he asked no better.

It had pleased heaven that he should be born a poet, and he could not help himself. Nature had been kind to hitn," and had liven him a beautiful spiritua face that matched his soul, a broad, white brow, idell and thoughtful, luminous eyes, full of light and shade. Sweet, sensitive woman^l lips, that would have been lovely in the face of a girl. Ah,

there had been anyone to feel proud ot him when he set out on this bright June morning to fight the decisive battle of his life, anyone to have bade him God speed" on his way

Good MrB. Elster was* busy in gathering fruit. Rob voted the whole affair a bore of the first magnitude, so that he went out alone uncheered.

The school-room was crowded the examination was admirably conducted from the first, public opinioi) was in favor of Verner. His flushed fape and beautiful, ea *er eyes, interested everyone who looked upou him.

There was an interval for lunch, and Sir Duke Magne anxiously asked Dr, Jforth who was the boy with the beauti fnl face and clustering hair. "He is a genius, sir, that boy," said Sir Duke, as he took another glass of -choice Madeira. "A genius. I never heard 8tjch answers in my life. If he goes to college he will make his way there. We shall hear of him again. Who is he, do you say?" "His name is Verner Elster his mother is a poor widow living here.-

THE EXPRESS, TERRE flAtJTE, SUNDAY, JULY 4,1886.

"He is of a good family, I am sure he has the face, the manner, the bearing of a young prince." ,.

Dr. North smiled and shook his head. "I am sorry to disturb yonr romance, Sir Duke, but there is nothing prineely about him except, perhaps, as ^ou say, his manner his father was a railway guard, killed in an accident. His mother has a comfortable pension, perhaps from the same company, and they live upon it. No romance there, you see."

Sir Duke looked very incredulous. "I should not have believed it from anyone else," he said. "I never saw a boy who interested me so much."

The decision was not made until the compositions were read on the day following, and then Verner Elster's wore found to be superior to the others, as is the moon to the stars.

The decision was solemnly announced by Dr. North, and a ringing cheer from theft hole school. Verner had won it, and Verner was a.great favorite everyone liked him the boys were all pleased. Dr. North himself was delighted.' "Now" said Sir Duke, "I shall do something handsome for that boy. I knew that he would win. Put my name down for fifty pounds, North, and next year I shall double my subscription, if he goes on well."

As for Verner himself, his delight knew no bounds. The life he had dreaded need not now be his. It seemed to him that the golden gates of a golden land were open to him, and that he was about to enter into a golden land. Dr. North was very sanguine over his prospects-', and predicted great things for him. "If you decide upon entering the church, Verner," he said, "you will find Sir Duke a good friend. He has two livings in his gift."

But Verner told him he had no in* clination for the church. "The dream of my life is to be among books—perhaps to write them. From the time I was quite a child I have thought of nothing else." [To be,Continued, in the Sunday Express]

CAPTURED BY A CLAM,

A. Strange Adventure With a Monster Bivalve on tbe Coast of I'apna. Youths Companion.

As I ran I kept my eyes fixed on Brown, who was acting in a singular manner. After every few seconds his head would disappear beneath the water in which he stood then it would appear again. He seemed to be straggling violently. As 1 approached him he threw up his hands and cried out in accents that haunt me still: "For heaven's sake, quick, and help me!" I dashed out to him through the water up to my waist. "What is it? \phat has hold of you?" I exclaimed. "It's a big oyster or a big clam,' he groaned. "I was wading here and stepped into it, I expect. Its shell closed— gripped my ankle—and to save_ my life I can't get away—and the tide will soon be over our heads here!" he added, with something almost like a solj, He had been struggling here for fifteen or twenty minutes.

I had heard of the tridacena gigas, or monster clam of this coast, and instantly realized the danger of his situation. "Courage, old fellow!" I said. "I'll stick by you. Here, hold this paddle and the hatchet."

I then ducked down under water and with my hands felt about for his foot. The huge mollusk had what might well be termed a death grip on him. The creature's shell was several feet long and of proportionate breadth, and the weight of the shellfish must have been at least 300 pounds. The creature was attached to the coral rock by a grisly byssus as thick as my arm. Raising myself, I got breath, then seizing the paddle thrust the shaft of it between the converging edges of the two valves of the shell, and, using it as a lever, attempted to pry the shell apart. Bat I could not open it. Brown, too, ducking down, seized hold with his hands and pulled with all his strength, but, exerting all our power, we could not release the monster's hold. Again and again I threw my whole weight on the shaft of the paddle and at length broke it. By this time the water was up to my shouldwhen I stood up. Fully realising that whatever I did must be done in a few minutes more, else the poor fellow would drown, I snatched the hatchet from Brown's hand, and diving, tried to cut under the shell, to break the creature's anchorage to the rock. With might and main I cut and hacked—then rose an instant for breath—then down and at it again. But it seemed as though I could not cut through the tough muscle. Four times I dived and with frantip haste cut at these tough byssi. "It stirs!" at length Brown cried, bracing his weight upon his free foot and liftat it. rn

Then, with a final blow, the byssus was severed, and the buoyancy of thp water aiding us we dragged the great mollusk still fast to Brown's ankle—back to higher ground on the reef. Here the water was waist deep, however, and I looked anxiously around for Mac in the lakatoi. To my inexpressible joy he was close at hand, and between us we lifted Brown, with his now captured captor, into the canoe. Even then we could not both of us together pry the valves of the shell apart enough to release Browns foot till with a knife we reached in and completely divided the tridacena—sawing asunder the hinge muscles at the base of the bivalve. It was truly a gigantic clam and as a poetic retribution upon it for this attempt on the life of one of our party, we ale a portion of its flesh for our supper, but found it rather toughs

Brown's ankle was severely bruised and wrenched, and he suflered for many a day from the vice-like grip of the huge mollusk.

SPICE OF LIFE.

Boston Post: Oleomargarine has got into the dictionary. It would be well if it could always be kept there.

Burlington Free Press: An exchange says that a race of hairless Americans is probable." Please give place and date also prizes and excursion rates.

Boston Post: A scientistsays the redtail, a little'bird, will catch 900 flies an hour. That is nothing to brag of. The boarding-house milk pitcher will break that record and not half try.

New York Times: Nervous old lady (on seventh floor of hotel)—"Do you know what precautions the proprietor of the hotel has taken'ajgainst fare?" Porter "Yis, mum he has the place inshoored for twice wot it's Wb^th."

Buffalo Courien: "Papa," said "a 12-year-old miss to her paternal parent yesterday, "can you tell' me why President Cleveland, since h«s marriage with Miss Folsom, is like rfti anarchist?" He gave it up, and then slffe told him it was "because he loved Her(r) Most."

Tid-Bits: "Mr. Jones, you might lend me that novel. I have been wanting to read it for some time." "I am hearts broken at being compelled to refuse, my dear madame but ve made it a rule not to lend books—they are never returned. The proof is before you. You see .how well stocked with volumes my shelves are?, Well, they are all borrowed 1

Lewiston (Me.) Journal: A story was told in Maine 100 years ago or more of an old lady who, having read the scriptures that by faith mountains could be moved, prayed that a hill which obstructed the view in front of the house might be taken away. She afterward told a friend that "it didn't believe it would in the first place,"

THE VICTORY OF LOVE.

'The viotorv is minet" quoth she, "He loves me, that I know Heart free am I, and joy to see

His haughty head brought low."

"The victory is miner' qooth he "Bhe loves me—that is plain I'm quite heart-whole, and sport 'twill be

To rule her sweet disdain."

"HaP' chuckled Cupid, looking on With wiokedest design, "These stupid mortals both are gone—

The victory is minet"

ONE HAPPY WOMAN.

The world is wide enough to hold One happy woman, she was told. The little maid looked up to guess:' "A bride just in the loveliest dress., A ship is waiting, too, in sight. To sail for"—"No, you are not right.

"The woman you are guessing lies To-night in some wierd hut. Her eyes Are void, her hollow hands are cold, (They have not even arose to hold), Alight is dying at her head, And she is happy—being dead.'?

RANDOLPH OF ROANOKE

Two Anecdotes of the Haughty Virglnlftn—Insultfog a Preacher. Savannah (Ga.) News.

Randolph's fastidiousness as to the use ef pure English and the proper applicacation of English words is a matter of history. It happened that at asocial gathering a young gentleman, who had been attached to some legation abroad, made use of the word "classify," in a sense that excited the disapproval of Mr. Randolph. He was quick to resent it. "It is extremely unpleasant," said he, "to hear careless or ignorant persons debasing the language by a wrong application of words or phrases. Now, sir, you have used the word classify in a connection that is entirely wrong."

The young attache, dreadfully mortified, colored deeply and retired from the conversation. There chanced to be present a Mr. Harris, a member of the Rich-

mond bar and a relative of the victim. He took up the cudgels of defense. "Really, Mr. Randolph," he said, "you are too hard on my young kinsman. I think that his application of the word was peffectly correct and proper." "You think," retorted Randolph. "I don't believe you know the meaning of the word. Pray, sir, what is the meaning of classify?" "Well," returned Mr. Harris, goodnaturedly, "I don't know that I can give a technical definition of the word, but I can illustrate its meaning. For instance, I can classify the books of your library by the size of the volumes, or I can classify the members of the Richmond bar by the initial letter of their names." "I thought so!" said Randolph "you know nothing about it. Suppose I should classify, as you term it, the books of my library by the size of the volumes, a pretty mixture I should make. Or suppose I should classify [here a sneer] the members of the Richmond bar by the initial letters of theif names. Let us see! There's Mr. Boggs he stand at the head of the list. God forbid! There's Mr. Wickham he's stand at the foot of it a most improper place for him! There's yourself Harris, H, H? The Greeks esteemed no letter. We'd place you nowhere."

Another anecdote is even more unpleasant. One day Randolph was attacked with a sudden faintness, and immediately made up his mind that he was

gis

oing to die. Accordingly he dispatched faithful attendant, Juba, with orders to bring him a clergyman. Juba, diligent though he was, succeeded only in finding an itinerant preacher, zealous enough, but very illiterate. Randolph received the reverend gentleman with great urbanity and offered him refreshments. After these had been partaken of he invited his guest to read the bible to him. The preacher consented, and proceeded at once to suit the action to the word. Directly he mispronounced a word. "I beg your pardon," exclaimed the sage of Roaneker, "you pronounce that word wrong. The proper pronounciation is—"

The parson corrected himself, appologiged and oceeded with the lecture. Every one knows how frequently the same word is repeated in the bibical text. Directly the unlucky word again occurred. "I told you," said Randolph, with asperity, "that you mispronounced that word, and you have done it again."

The clerical gentleman again made due correction, apologized, and proceeded. Randolph watched, and directly the unhappy word was about to turn up once more. "Stop!" screamed he in his high treble "stop! lay aside the book. I'd rather go to h—1 and be d—d than to hear you mispronounce that word again!"

Sraarty aiyl the Auctioneer, Texas Sittings. And it came to pass, after the going down of the sun, that young Smarty was passing the mart where certain mi cried out in a loud voice. "Two am offered, do I hear two and a-half young Smarty, tn ions who attended him,

"Aha?" cried young Smarty, turning ttended him, "behold! the auctioneer. Let us enter

to the companions wfc

in, and mark how I will paralyze hit*. So entered they in. And still the voice of the auctioneer was lifted up: "And a-ha'fn, a ha'fn, a-ha f. Anybody say three-quarters?"

Three-quarters said they not.p^' "Prythee, sir," said young Smarty, "will you allow me to wake a bid?"

For Smarty, the juvenile, had read in the chronicles how a man had once propounded that query to an auctioneer who stood in the market place, and on his replying, "Yea, verily/' he said, "Thei bid you good night."

As the ox goeth to the slaughter, so marched Smarty up to the very front of the auctioneer. "Will you allow me to make a bid?

Up spake the auctioneer, who wap fly with regard to the ways of the ungodly: "No, I will not. I pever take bids from children and fools."

Then the people laughed Smarty to scorn, and he'slunk away, sorrowing.

Drnmmers and Decanters Life: A mule one day kicked a Chicago drummer on the cheek, simply as a brilliant practical joke but the drummer coolly walked into a barber's shop and washed the dirt from his face, while the mule had to be hauled to a drug store in an ambulance for medical treatment Moral: This fable teaches that a daring general in attacking the baggage train of an adversary is liable to stumble upon his reserves besides giving a hint as to the true seat of the intellect.

Life: A decanter filled with whisky was hotly pursued by a ward politician and a commercial embassador, but made its escape and took refuge in the pocket of a prohibitionist, thinking that in such an asylum it would be safe from harm. But after a short nap the decanter woke up as empty as a gas-pipe, and went away in a starving condition. Moral: This fable teaches that a fortress is not necessarily impregnable just because the supervising engineer pronounces it so. kmfilA

A New Beaaty,

London Bpsoiol, A London daily says: A new beauty has come to light this season. The center of attraction is the royal inclosurS ^t Ascot was Mrs. Cunard, wife of one of. the

Transatlantic Cunards. This lady has been much admired at the balls, routs and assemblies of the season. Last year the debutantes held the field for beaaty, bat this year they are run closely by the matrons, and a star of the first magnitude among them is Mrs. Canard. She is certainly a very lovely lady, and she dresses invariably in excellent taste. Every one of course was anxious to see her. She wore a heliotrope striped silk and plush dress, bodice of bengaline, trimmed with plush. She had a heliotrope tulle bunnet to match, with cream parasol.

An aid to dress,-seen at the precincts of the grand stand, was a dust ulster worn by a young brunette, whose figure bad commanding lissomness and grace, wrought in pale barley tints. Its supple lines were charmingly' emphasized by Venetian bronze clasps inclosing love knots of fawn-colored ribbon.

A CONTRACTOR'S STORY.

Han Who Had Cheated Him Back After Death to Apolo-

How a Came glia. Uniontown News.

"I never go much on ghost stories," began Contractor Van Dyke at the Clinton house the other evening. The old gentleman had been listening with more or less attention to a series of fables being told by the guests of the hotel. "You don't believe in spooks, then suggested one of the gathering. "Well, I don't know," the old contractor replied. "My experience in that direction nas been somewhat remarkable. I don't suppose you will believe me. but the story I will toll you is true. 1 can produce a living witness to it, and I will at any time make affidavit to its accuracy. Two years ago I was building a piece of railroad down in the eastern part of this state. Among the people who furnished me ties was an old trader in whom I had little or no confidence. As the bills for the ties came in I paid them promptly and took receipts from every man. I knew to the tie the number used. After my contract was completed the old trader sued me for the price of fifty ties. The case was tried and I was compelled to pay the money. The old man had sworn to his bill, and little or no defense could be made. When I paid the money I warned the old fellow. I told him he had perjured himself. I predicted for him an unhappy ending. About six months ago I was awakened at 1 o'clock in the morning by this same old trader. It was dark in my room. Just as plainly as I see you now he was there fn life. He wakened me by calling me by name. My partner was in bed in the same room ]ust a few feet from me. I called him and told him of the visitor's presence. He said he could not see him, and laughed at me. He told me I was dreaming, and suggested that I go to sleep. While we were talking the old trader called me by name. He said he had been mistaken about the ties, and offered to return me the money. The vision then vanished. My partner talked with me of the matter before we went to sleep again. The next morning he told the story on me as a joke, but while we were at breakfast the news reached us of the old trader's death. He had died within ten minutes of the time of. his visit to me. I have no idea how many more calls of the same character he had to make, but I am satisfied his visit to me was the last one. That story is true as holy writ," the old man concluded. A distressing silence followed its telling, and the party broke up before all recovered.

THE ROMANCE OF A NICKEL.

This Story Is Not Meant to Encourage Young Woman to Forget Pocketbooks.

A romantic courtship, which began in Baltimore has just ended in a marriage in Richmond, Va., and a correspondent of the St. Louis Globe-Democrat tells about it. The bride was Miss Blanche Thursfield, and'the groom is Mr. Thomas Bowers, now a merchant in Richmond, but at the time this love story opens, a resident of Baltimore. One afternoon last June, Mr. Bowers boarded an up-town Madison avenue car, and was soon deeply interested in an afternoon paper. Presently a handsome young lady entered and took a seat beside him. He glanced at the new passenger, and, as he looked at the pretty face and figure beside him, hea noticed the young lady draw her hand from her ocket and a blush mantle her cheek. le saw that she had forgotten her purse, and as she was in the act of signaling the conductor to stop the car he politely asked her if he could be of any service. The flush again rose to her cheek, and her embarrassment increased when she informed Mr. Bowers of her situation. "But permit me to pay your fare," requested the gentleman. "If you will give me your card so that I can return the money I will consent," she replied.

The condqctor came along and Mr, Bowers dropped the additional nicKel in his hand. "I am ever so much obliged," said the pretty miss. Now, will you give me your card

Cards were exchanged, and the next morning a messenger entered Mr. Bower's office and handed him a neat envelope addressed in a lady's hand. It contained a nickel and the neatly expressed thanks of Miss Thursfield. Cprrespondence fol lowed, and the acquaintance thus formed soon ripened into friendship and terminated as above related, and the bridal couple are now crossing the Atlantic on their wedding trip.

Losses From Fires in Theaters. Philadelphia Insurance Intelligencer. A curious return has been laid before the Paris' Statistical society by Dr. Croquet with regard to the number of theaters which have been burned down since 1750. He gives the total as 630, of which 51 were burned down in tbe last half of the eighteenth century, 51 in the first quarter of this century, 100 from 1825 to 1850, 76 from 1850 to 1860,103 from I860' to 1870,169 from 1870 to 1880: and 174 from 1880 to the end of la,st year while three theaters at Detroit, Madrid and Orleans have been buried this year. The number of persons who have peiished in the flames varies very much for while 1,010 were burned to death between 1790 and 1800, and 2,141 between 1840 and 1850, tbe total was only 241 for the ten years from 1850 to 1860. This is due to the fact that now and again eome theatre is burnt down while iuil of people, as was tlie case in

1794, when 1,000 persons perished in the theatre of Capo a'Istria in 1836, when 800 persons were burned at St. Petersburs, and in 1845, when 1,670 persons perished in a Canton theatre. The worst fires of the last few years have heen at Vienna, where 4-jO people perished in the fling theatre in 1881, and at Nice, where 70 persons were burnt to death in the same year. Altogether 6,573 people have perished in the last 135 years, or 84 persons in every year, this being a very small percentage of the whole theatergoing population.

r. A Healthy Place, "This is a very healthy place," observed a boarding mistress. "Yes—for chickens," said the boarder. "I have been here two years end haven't seen a dead one yet." She took the hint.

To visitors at the Edinburgh exposition Mr. Lloyd's exhibit of five miles of "News" paper in an unbroken web is one of the most striking examples of -modern jpaper making.

HIGHLY EXCITING SPORT.

Dropping

the

•'"Go-Devil" Into a Pennsylvania Oil Well.

Bradford (Pa.) Correspondence New fork Poet. "Does any one want to drop it?" The expert said there would be plenty of time to get away. The correspondent, desirions of Beeing how it was all done, climbed down from his perch on the fence and started for the well. "Don't be excited," said the expert. "You'll have time enough to get back here before it strikes." The platform about the' well was oilv and slippery, so that the retreat wonld have to be entered upon with caution in order to avoid slipping down. The man at the well handed the correspondent the "(jo-deviL" "Lower it well down in the iron-casing," he said, "before you drop it. There will be plenty of time to get away."

The correspondent clutched the casting with his fingers between the four wings, and did as he was told to. Then lie looked round to get the bearings for his feet He cast his eyes up toward the highway as if to take a last look at tbe general, the senator, the secretary, and the assemblyman, only to be shouted to by them in chorus: "Why don't you let her go?" "All ready," said the man at the well. "Don't stumble over that timber when you. start" Drop went the godevil, and away went the correspondent. He leaped over the timber, skipped the utter near the well, and mada for the lighway with the go-devil ringing in his ears as it sped down through the iron casing on its errand of destruction. The man who remained last at the hole walked deliberately off in another direction.

The correspondent had time to recover his sight-seeing position when the sharp crack of the gun caps fourteen hundred feet down in the earth was beard. There were ten seconds of silent suspense, and then a grand sflfectacle was seen. First a roar was heard, and this was followed at once by the belching forth of a column of greenish liquid, which rose to the top of the derrick, broke into spray, and filled the air. Next followed a column of black smoke and liquid roaring out of the hole like the escape of steam from a locomotive's safety-valve. Afire of stones followed this cracking among the timbers of the derrick and falling all about. The wind car/ied the liquid away from the spec tators, and the stones throw straight from the mouth of the well fell back, harming no one. The beiching lasted perhaps half a minute, and then all was quiet. The eight quarts of nitro-glycer-ine had done its work It had lifted first a column of crude oil fourteen hundred feet deep from the bottom of the well had broken the black sand rock in which petroleum is found, *and had thrown the fragments up from a depth of fourteen hundred feet The grass and ground for an acre round were covered with a dirty, greenish slime, in which the spectators lad to tread in order to inspect the results. Out of the well's mouth inflammable gas was pouring at a rate that would make a stockholder of the consolidated company turn green with an avaiice to behold. If a match had been applied disastrous results would have fol lowed.

A WEDDING FEE.

Being Deficient, the Groom Proposes to the minister an Ingenious Compromise. Boston Herald.

The story about the Vermonter who proposed to add half a dollar to the amount which the "law allowed" the parson for marrying him has brought to the historian a brand-new story of another wedding fee transaction in Vermont It is from a glen village away back from the Connecticut in the hills, where money is scarce and the ways are primitive, and the people frequently prefer to pay for their purchases in kind. One day a young couple came to the parson at the village to be married. They hadn't a cent of money, and it had been arranged that the groom should bring a quantity of beeswax with which to pay the minister. The parson was thrifty—they have to be thrifty up that way—and took good care before he performed the ceremony to weigh out the beeswax and see whether there was enough to pay his fee. There wasn't. "Why haven't you brought all the beeswax you agreed to?" asked the minister. "All I hed, parson." "And you haven't got any more "Not another ounce." "Have you got any money at all?" "Not a mite, parson."

There was a period of uncomfortable silence, during which the young farmer began to grow very much alarmed. He was afraid the parson wouldn't marry him unless he produced his uttermost ounce of beeswax, and the prospect struck terror to his soul. The parson was inclined to let him "stew." "Look a' here, parson!" said the countryman, finally, "I tell ye what ye do you take the beeswax and marry us as fur as it goes 1"

Webster's Book of Correspondents Chicago Tribune. Mr. C. F. Gunther has in his possession an interesting souvenir of Daniel Web. ster. It is a small volume bound in plain paper boards, with red morocco borders and mottled paper cover. The body i« of common letter paper, ruled loogitudinanlly, headed and paged with his own hand. It contains no printing except clippings from newspapers. On the inner page of the first cover is pasted his book-mark with the motto, "Vera pro graris," and below it is his signature. On the title page in a scrawling hand is the following: "Names of persons to tend documents to. Daniel Webster, Boston, Mas3." A star at the top is followed by the words, "tigni6es to be particularly attended to," all in the same handwriting as the title, signature and body of the book. The book contains 3,067 names in the following Slates: Maine, New Hampshire, Massachusetts, Rhode Island, Connecticut, Vermont, New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Delaware. Maryland, District of Columbia, Virginia,

North Carolina. South Carolina, Georgia, Kentucky, Tennessee, Ohio, Indiana, Mississippi, Illinois, Louisiana, Missouri, Alabama, Michigan, Arkansas, Wisconsin and Florida. The far Western states, then thinly settled, are credited with few names, Michigan, having the most, as many as Beventy-six bslng put down to Detroit.

An Offensive Difference. "Well, I wonder what you are thinking about now," snapped Mrs. tangle, as her husband had been maintaining a rigid silence during

long curtain lec

ture. "I was just thinking of the difference between a woman and an umbrella," replied Fangfe." "And what is it?" asked his wife, very unwisely. "You can shut an umbrella up."

College Craftiness.

New York Tribcine. The rival crews are kept constantly informed as to each other's condition by their respective representatives, who have to do first-class detective work to find out how their rivals are rowing. Sometimes they are caught watching the crews, as was a Harvard man a year or two ago. He posted himseif behind a woodpile and watched the Yale grew with afield glass,

He got so interested when the crew got in sight that he did not think to hide himself until the coxswain saw him,: and then when he jumped to hide himself behind the pile he canght his coat tail on a piece of timber and gote stuck fast before the crew. The crew in-t vited him to supper, and he had to set up& in weak lemonade. The next week the^'f: captain of the Yale crew paid a visit to^ Cambridge and posted himself on theijiS bridge over the Charles just below thei boat house. The Harvard coxswain had? already seen him and had given the word to the men to row in the woist possible) form. The Yale captain wss wild with:," delight to see such a poorly rowing crew, and as the crew shot out from the other side of the bridge he rushed to take an--*^ other look with bis face beaming withde- P' light But to his horror and disgust he',^ saw one of the best form crews Harvard ever had. "Theater tickets to-night,w Yale!" yelled the Harvard men to the.?1-, discomfitted Yale man, but nothing of the tickets was seen.

BOMBI SEES THE ELEPHANT.#

It Causes Trouble and a Good Deal of Excitement In the Menagerie. New York Tribune.

The rhinoceros, Bombi, surprised his keepers at the menagerie in Central Park: on Friday. He had been so docile sitce%: his arrival that all traditions of his unruly nature began to be regarded

When Mr. Conklin arrived the situation had become oerious. Bombi had discovered that there was no roof on his cage, the sides of which are over eight feet high. He is not quite six feet high, but rearing up on his high leg^he stood fully ten feet in height, and his immense head and snout easily rested over the beam that formed the top of the cage. He was puffing heavily from his exertion, and his mouth opened and shut like an enormous leather valise. Mr. Conklin marshalled the keepers and all the policemen at the arsenal with pitchforks and iron prods and charged on the Bombi. The pitchforks made little im-. pression on his tough hide^where the keepers pricked him. The tines of the fork got twisted and he seemed to regard them as little as flea bites. One of the policemen used his club on Bombi's nose and broke the club, while the nose was in no way hurt Finally, after more than an hour's struggle, the animal succeeded in getting a purchase for his hind feet to lift himself over the cage. Mr. Conklin and his force concentrated their efforts to push him back. The contest was doubtful, until Bombi's foot slipped, and he tumbled back once more of his own accord, and arose disgusted and somewhat exhausted by his efforts. Mr. Conklin seized the opportunity to throw several heavy planks over the top of the cage and nail them down securely. In half an hour a strong roofing, against which the rhinoceros knocked his head when he attempted to raise on his hind feet, prevented a repetition of his trouble. Yesterday Bombi had become quiet again. He has several scratches on his huge side from the forks that look like pin scratches.

The Love-Sick Senator's Appetite. Detroit Tribune. "Yes. that is Senator Jonea," said a trim little waitress in a popular Fort street restaurant. "Does he come here often "Nearly every day, orders the best in the house, and eats all he orders. He's a daisy. HiB bill here amounts to about $80 a month." "Is he agreeable to wait on "No most stuck up person I ever saw, cause he's got a title none of us girls like to wait on him, he'B so cross, but it's our duty. They say he's in love" (with a roguish look in her sparkling eye and a laugh), "don't act much like it. Why, if I was away up belle and he should ask me to marry him, and tell me I could wear fine dresses and sit in the parlor all the time, I wouldn't have him. I'd rather help work for some handsome young fellow, yes, worlUhard, than sit in the parlor alongside of Senator Jones. A girl must be orajy—"

Here the senator called her and gzuHly asked for a fourth glass of milk. The senator has laid aside his well-worn Prince Albert coat, and now wears a brown, wide wale, one-button cutaway, & paper collar and a black necktie. His regular hours for patroling Jefferson avenue are from 9 to 11 a. m., 1 to 3 and 8 to 10 p. m. 4

"Worse Than the Lock-Up. Washington Oitio. A good-looking New Yorker was in town last week, and one night he fell into the hands of the- police and had to send for a friend to get him out. On their way home the friend was shakicg him up for being caught. "Why the mischief," he said, "didn't you tell the cop you were a congressman, and he wouldn't have locked you up "I (hie) I s'd.d rather (hie) been locked up," he stammered, with a maudlin smile.

Further argument was useless.

Similes,

A German poet refers to a fishing-rod as meing typical of a young g:rl. He says: "The eyes are the hooks, the smile the bait, the lover the gudgeon and marriage the butter in which he is fried."

•Ss I

1®

,1.4

mythical. He was safely housed in his, cage, the iron bars of which are an inch and a half thick, and it was thought they were strong enough to confine any demonstration on the part of Bombi within the inclosure. On Friday the carpenter began to remove the side of the building around the cage so that visitors could have an unobstructed .view the rhinoceros. When the partition was partly down Bombi caught sight of the herd of elephants outsido and immediately became uneasy. He moved from side to side, pressing his three tons cf flesh against the heavy bars and mumbling all the time iu a deep bass grumble that sounded lifce coming thunder. Superintendent Conklin, knowing the rooted antipathy between the elephant and the rhinoceros, directed the carpenter to close up the partition for the present. Bombi's excitemdnt cool then,.but he was still uneasy. When the elephants' began to sound their trumpet nolts at night he agi&n became excited. He threw himself violenllf on the bars, which resisted the weight, but the whole building was shaken at each shock. The keepers became frightened and roused the superintendent.

Marrying a woman for her

money, says a philosopher, is very much like setting a rat-trap and baiting it with your own finger.

A Peculiar Dish.

Tid-Bits.

Rusticus—Waiter, I hear that tips are very popular in these 1 era city eating houses.

Waiter (ia expectancy)*—Yc-s, sab, they is, sah. Rusticus—Well, you maytbrinj? run a plate of'em. Durn'd if I deih't go the whole business!

No Sense in the Baby.

A 4

•3

Young Wife—Why, John, take care don't hold the baby that way. You men are no earthly good at tending children.

Young husband—Jullaninski, I believe that bahy would cry if I stood it on its head in the corner. It's incorrigible.