Greenfield Evening Republican, Greenfield, Hancock County, 5 December 1894 — Page 4

THE SIXTH SENSE.

The face of yesterday is not the same today. An undefined but diff'rent spell lies in the features' play. It may be gay or sad, a tint of color more or loss, A sparkle, nr a shadow new, the eyes aad checks express. A tone not heard before rings in some doar one's voice, -liii-L brings a snaru prophetic pain, or makes the heart rejei-.v, One knows not why. One only feels some hidden CUUi:-- must l:r, In body or in mind, to work the change not all do see.

Some few with intuition's ready power can

la iJTZ cVM these change* of the

voice or face.

With thin sixth sense, almost divine, can see and hear The tilings not manifest to common eye and

ear. I 3Ictliii:ks it m-( ds Love's list'ning wait and watchful sijjht Faint u:irl-Tton t' interpret and dim signs to road aright. Love, then, must be this added sense, or sum of all combined. And love for ev'ry livin? thing tho power to save mankind. I —Good Housekeeping.

TIIE MAJOR LoCAFED.

If ever there was a foreordained old bachelor, that man was Major Teller. He was a dnrr»or, thin little man, something under a feet in height, with a glossy black wig, closely trimmed side whiskers, and costume so daintily nr fc t-hafc }»o romiuueu you of a shining black cat. it was high noon on a sparkling windy March day when Major Teller came home to the antinuo down town boarding hou^o whero he had vegetated for tho last 20 years and went to his room ro brush his wig for the midday meal. Opening the door, ho stumbled over an obstacle in tho way: "Oh, I beg your pp.rdon, I'm sure," said tho mumr, turnuur very red and recovering his footing with difficulty.

It was Miss Patience Petligrew, on her hands and knees, cleaning off the oilcloth at the door!

Now. il'.e major was afraid of Miss Patience—alraid of her as the plump lamb fears 5he gaunt wolf or tho uiiolfeiiding I!.i the dire serpent.

I' IciK— )d lean s.nd

sallow, but she curled her hair, and wore an ai ifichil rose over her

r! rh

reviewed Hie lu.d l"M'n-d :.« if ih'-re w:^ ?.• ulaiiy suited gre..t peril and pcrpl "It, .0 _r -m

nv.

and sang iirtlo whistling tunes to a little Swindle legged i.:.,iso. :.rd ivr.-!r Relieved that if she only waited a littlo longer she should get married to somebody. "It's of no consequence, major," said Miss Patience', recovering her piece of .-soap, which had skirmished out to tho middle of the carpet. "Ihank you. "I do wonder, major," said Miss Patience, with a premonitory giggle, "why you never got married.

The major retired precipitately behind tlr coal scut lie a::d made no ply"on\i bo so much more comfortable, you k:i'.iw. added .Miss Patience. •'Dear me. that was a, very narrow escape, thought our hero, emerging froiu .his sanctuary. "Some day she'll too .'much for me. I'll look for a new place toimn w.'' "D ar me, major, you liave no ajipetu". smd the dinner tabi

Pi'tiellCO

"Xo. ma": "Jj'.'ift ye

f=ny •more:'" "I won't

can bn. fo:v

In it,

intent!

the

.'etly

in,*' K-iid the know, in love

Kr. op!

O 1 -K 1" fb"

Major Tellc aw.iv xroin ii i.i haiidicercluiv.riou kiiv

inin

in -us liinermos Irclr.^m and hvmm- he clnld, trving to think sense hivo'-ation particin elderly gentleman in dry.

I've been in tho

inside r»f a church," thought the penitent old offender. "'I wish I had gone a little more regularly. I wonder if it's too latu in life to reform.

For the major, poor old gentleman, had a vague iuea that "religion" would be a sor'„ of safeguard against the wiles of his fair ouemjT.

As Major Teller was frantically revolving these things in hi.-' mLud ho came to a sudden and invoJuntary standstill. Thero wa,s a crowd gathered in tho street—a fallen omnibus horse, or an arrested pickpocket, or some other nu cleus.

Now, of all things, Major Teller most dreaded a crowd, and he looked around nervously for some means of oscapo.

An old fashioned church, with open doors and somo sort of service going on inside, caught tho major's eye. He made an in.-tantaneous dart for its huge gothic portals, shielded by inner doors of green imi/.o.

The church was very warm, and tho light, softened by purple and golden ani crimson glass, was dim, and tho clergyman's voice rather monotonous, and Major Teller was unconsciously becoming rather drowsy, when a plump old lady came in, and tho soxton beckoned him from his seat.

But the sermon was over, and poople wore streaming down tho aisle, and the major felt that he did not care to prolong tho thing", and that he had done a very laudable act in coming to church, and—

Even while theso ideas wero passing indistinctly through his brain he was borne toward the altar in an upward eddy of the crowd and felt a gaunt arm thrust through his. "Protect mo, major!" whispered Miss Patience Petti grew. "I'm so 'feared in a crowd always."

The major strove to withdraw his arm, but Miss Pettigrew would not lot him. They were standing directly in front of the altar arm in arm. The minister, old and nearsighted and a littlo deaf, advanced, probably concluding that his services wero required.

Major Teller's blood ran cold. He tried to protest, but his tongue seemed

paralyzed. Alias Pettigrew had oaptnred him as a lamb for the slaughter, and where was the use of further straggle?

A few words—an appallingly brief ceremony-—and Major Teller was married to Miss Patience! "Take tbe market basket, my dear,' said the gaunt bride, "and star—you'd beit-v.' caiuy the umbrella too. We'll go right home. Old folks like yon and me don't care for wedding tours, do we?''

The major looked piteonsly at his better

half

and made no answer. She,

however, waited for none, but drew him

along with a quiet determination that

ar«ued

111 for the

futuro-

"Give mo the key to the room, my dear," 6aid Mrs. Pettigrew Teller. "I'd better keep it in future."

The major handed over the key without a word of remonstrance, and his eldI erly wifo opened the door. "We'll slick up things a little," said

Mrs. Teller, bundling the major's beloved papers together and pitching his box of cigars out of tho window. I "But, Miss Patience"— "What!" "My dear wife, I mean!" I "Ah, yes. What wero you about to remark?" "My cigars—I"— I "Oh, well, I don't like 6mok^-*iever did! I wish you'd take all these coats and things out of the wardrobe. I want it for dresses. "But whero shall I keep them, Miss

Pa"— "What did you say?" "Mrs. Tellor, I would remark"— "Oh, unuer tho bed or somewhere! You must have plenty of money. By tbe rvay, supnur-o you give me the money to keep now, my dear. I'll manage it a great deal more economically than you will bo likely to." "But"— "Give me the money, I say." 'Major Toller meekly put his hand into his pocket and submissively handed over the purse.

Tho major crept silently away, thinking how, the last time he crossed that threshold, he was a free man, and now: "I'm married I" mused Major Teller. "I couldn't help it. It wasn't my fault, but hero I am, no money, no cigars, no freedom—worse than any galley slave. Six.y .trs oiii next, mouth and married to Paticnco Pettigrew!"

He wished dir-consclatoly down the street, both hands in hi'- empty pockets a?.!*1

!'ur tipped reeki. down over

his eyes. He stopped at the street corner, uncertain which way to go. But as he gazed the bright, steely glimmer of the river caught his eye. "All right," muttered Sompronius moodily. "I'll go and drown myself. It's a short way out of a long lane of difficulty. Anything but going back to —Patienco Pettigrew." "Want a boat, sir?" demanded a sturdy man. "Yes," said the major "I want Charon's boat to row me over the Styx. "Don know him, sir, said the puzzled boatman, "but mine's sound and light and"—

The major waited to hear no more, but gave a blind downward jump. Down, down with that peculiar sensation of falling so familiar to us ail— down—down—until— ,t "Peg pardon, sir, but the church is

I goin to bo shut up, and everybody's I gone. Hope you've had a good nap, I sir?" .n- Tho Sexton spoke satirically, but in his tones Major Teller recognized hope and freedom. Ho started wildly to his

•, ic°t. Maior Teller satisfied the sexton with a donation who:-o liberality astonished v' even tnat. personage and went at oneo to a hr.tel to engage roocts. 1 "I'll send lor my things,he thought, "I won't g* back to that house. I'm not married, and I don't mean to be married

Discretion is the better part of valor —and .Miss Patience Pettigrew remains Mi:-s Patience Pet.tiirrew still. But. Major Teller goes to church very regularly now!—Lxchange.

Thc Old, Old Man.

A mile or ko from tho Wostbury Half Way IIou.se there is a little cluster of red buildings to tho north of the highroad. Here, nestled between a modern shooting box and an ancient farmstead, Is a small chapel, and within tho chapel a memorial plato to Purr: "Tho old, old, v~ry old man, born in the yoar of our Lord 1483. He lived in the reign of ten kings and queens of England, died the 18th and was buryed in Westminster abbey on the 15th of November, 1635."

The inscription on brass, in a neat oak frame, of course proves nothing, though it may well date from the middle of the seventeenth century. Its most attractive feature is the neatly engraved head of Parr, which is little at variance with tliat given in Taylor's pamphlet. ic is hard to think this serene faced person, in the conical skullcap, tlio' trim white collar and many buttoned coat, was a farm laborer all his life. His peaked beard is of the kind Vandyke loved to paiut, and his mustacho runs down into it. The nose is long and straight, and his eyebrows are handsomely arched.

Whether this portrait be a truo or an ideal one, it is famously suggestive of a man who "hath not been troubled in mind for either the building or throwing down of abbeys and religious houses," who did never "murmur at the manner of prayers, let them be Latin or English, and who "held it safest to be of tho religion of the king and queen that wero (oic) in boing." It is to be hoped indeed ho was such a man, else he could not have lived through a more tiresomo century and a half of English life.—Macmillan's Magazine.

The Beat W»jr.

Stuffer—You know that girl who refused mo? She has just insulted me by inviting me to dinnor.

Dashaway—What are you going to do? Stuffer—Swallow the insult.—New York Sun.

LIGHT AND AIRY.

Thankful Time*.

tfhatikful times in Georgia— Thankful day an night— The turkey's on the jrobhle

An the possum's jest in sight. Thankful on the mountain top, An thankful on the plain, i' An they've boiiin ol the sugar,

An they're grindm of the cane.

Thankful that we're livin An nothin gone to wreck, With all our foes forgiven,

An all our friend1 on t-._ck. —Atlanta Constitution.

Gilo Way.

Rivers took out his pocketbook reluctantly, extracted from It a $10 greenback and handed it over to the young man who had called upon him for the nineteenth time with a bill from the tobacconist round tho ccruer.

The only way to suppress a smoke nuisance," he grumbled, "is to pay him off."—Cuicago Tribune.

evidence.

Fipg—But do you really think that fruit is healthful? Fogg—Of eonrse It is. Look at the police officers who have fruit peddlers' stands on their beats. Aren't they as healthly looking a sot of men as you'll find anywhere?—Boston Transcript.

Time Knowgh Then.

"You travel so much uvery year, It seems so strange." he said, "You've ru'ver lieeu ebroiid, my dear."

She blu.shed and hung her head.

She blushed and hung her head, she sighed And pursed her pretty lip. "I laioufjiu- I'd v.ait ana ko, she cried, -y, Upon my wedding trip." —Detroit Free Press.

Couldn't Find a School.

Boy (on a visit)—Haven't you any schools hero? Aunt—We have several.

Boy—That's queer. I have been all over town, and I haven't seen a building that looked ugly enough to bo a schoolhouse.—Good News.

A Good Way.

Miss Youngbride—I have not the slightest idea how the wedding service begins. I'll have to look it up.

Her Intended (glancing with admiration at the wedding gifts)—Why not start off, "Know all men by these presents?"^llarlcm Life.

At 10:30 P. M.

"Farewell! fmvv,v'l!" ho cries in pain. His arms infold her tieht His kisses fr.ll liktf auuinm rain her loreiieati wnite. He knows ne'll see her not again'

Until tomorrow night! —New York Sun.

Irrevocably Gone.

"I set four pies out on the window sill to cool," said Mrs. Hunker to her husband, "and they have nil 'r stolen.'' "Then wo must number them among tho lost tarts," was tho philosophical roply.—Detroit Free Press.

Not Utterly Ob.fcctionnble.

Amy (iudipnantly)—You are just liko the villuin oi a novel! Jack—Well, what ought I to bo like— tho hero of a novel?

Amy—Oh, no! Thr.t would really bo worse.—New York J-'i:.

Something te Che^r Us.

•i The meadows may 1k white with rihav. And eo::l mav l-.f .*). rise in prio\

But why ho gloomy wh.-u we know Thnt we are don-'i with Vayin? ice? —Bostoji Courier.

Nothinjf rhtraorriinary.

'She—The newspapers say that the women of the poorer class i:i London go barefooted. I think that's drcadlul.

He—That's lioLhinir. They a'"c used tr it. They wero born tnat wav. »e\v World

Will

Lawyer-—I know ln berij arc man and win. lv.

'f-.vo of Hv nw'M. -Xew York Week-

O.it of Siflil.

'Tw ia half ist nine. "Oh, .Tack," she chid, "I thuU-M \v.Al ii -v co: :r!" And then her hlusluiii? face she hid*

In his prize chrysanthemum. —('Lit Dijpaich.

Unlimited.

Blotter-

Mrs

tives? Mrs. Barlow—Fhe had when she came to us a year ago, but they've been dying off at the rate of a funeral a week.—Life.

A Long Jjji. .*.

Doubt.

"One question leaves me ever glurii," In deep dismay quoth he— "Do I wear this chrysanthemum, mst.

Or is it wearing ine?" —Washington Star.

Woe For Coming Generations. Tommy—What you crying about, cry baby?

Jimmy—Aw! You'd cry, too, If your pants was made outer yer sifter's old bicycle bloomers!—Cincinnati Tribuno.

Cupid at Oolf.

•What cared the two for losing goals When they were with each other 1 They played so much at golf their souls

Were bound by links tofjetner. —New York Press.

Strictly So.

Captain Lovelace—But you certainly were flirting with one,of tho men in the ranks? •,

Miss Coquette—Ah, yes. But that was a private affair.—Brooklyn Lifo.

Pneumatically .Speaking. The modern Y\ he 1 K^ei, ry f,"st, Yet there's no utte concealing, As we observe it passing by,

It lias that tired feriing. d. —Detroit Free Press.

Got tho Idea.

Visitor—Have you any now studies thla term? Boy—Yos'm. I'm studyln yellocution. —Good News.

I^ove'n Paradox.

If we could meet tho first girl Who heard us breathe love's vow, She'd probably bo the last girl

Who'd hear us breathe it now. -Life.

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Visitor at the Zoo—What tho giraffe has! Companion—Yes. "It would take him a long time to swallow his pride."—Philadelphia Record.

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