Indianapolis Journal, Indianapolis, Marion County, 6 October 1883 — Page 11

May Tlietr Tribe IJecreaso. When voids or honest birth have bastaril grown Through lawless lack of wedded rite with facts, Until their birthright-meaning has been lost Through wantoning with what they would express, Then may be hoard those people called “our best,” And families of thelr’s “among the first,” Because, forsooth, in all their aims, they linve A jackdaw's taste for hiding shining things, That save their trading worth for food and wear Are worthless as the jackdaw’s foolish hoard. ' “Tbobest and first!” does this tell truth of those Who heard and guard a pile of glittering gaudel And with a watch dog’s snarl say: “l'liis is mine!” Albeit their fellow oreatures freeze and starve For fire and food their barter might procure! Would blood of their’s, put to the. chemist’s test, A difference give from that of those who freeze! Or would their tissue under surgeon's knife A finer fibre show, or prove more sweet In the foul mouths of hungry graveyard worms! How are they “first” and “best” who lack not will To hide the sunset splendors of the sky From common gaze, in that they’re ruby hued— Tc fence from eight the autumn’s changing leaves Because among their tints gleams that of gold, So dear to tlieir asbestos-fibred hearts! llow better than the hardened hand of toll The soft and “itching palm,” however glared, Which from warm pity’s eyes yet fails to hide Hands like the clutching claws of birds of prey! The studied smile and houeyed words of those Who something like their shining tbiugs can matoli. Or who can count them rod for rod of fence With which they close the cornfields of the Lord, Are but veneer like that of precious wood Which hides the cracks and flaws if common deal. Mayhap a splendid shatr. that meets the eye, gut to the test of worth a varnished fraud. Better the days of Sparta’s iron coin Than present age, of harsh and grinding greed. ! hold it truth from out truth’s deepest well. And plain beyond their own dispute, that they Who hoard and hide the things that life must have Beyond a warrant of the coming years For those bequeathed to their providing care, While gaunt and hungry Want stalks through the land, And like a spectre scowls by fireless hearths, And, icy-eyed, keeps guard o’er sleepless beds, But steal and hide the flax and clothing fleeoe, And rob the common larder of the Lord. —Beu D. House,

A Sage’s legacy. An ayert sage, who all his life had spent In search for truth, found It. at last, aud sought A wav whereby to render permanent. And unto every one impart, his thought. “Shall eloquence with sonorous tongue pro claim) Alas how very few would hear and know, And these forget as they forget a name Adrift upon the years that come and go. “Shall glowing art with magic wand portrayl Or sculpture’s hand in marble form uprearl These are the fleeting chances of a day That have no warrant for a single year. “Not unto voice or canvass, nor to stone, Will I this royal germ of truth entrust, But to a mightier, which shall stand alone When pyramids have crumbled into dust. “To thee, O type, my thought I freely give. Transfer it, thou, to the enduring pages! Wliereou it shall forever burn and live, And generations read throughout the ages.” B K*M Frankfort, Ind. _ A Lovc-Cha.se. There was a man in Kankakee Who took the notion he would woe, So, packin': up his gripsack, no Proceeded straight to Kickapoo. But there arrived, much to his pain, His disappointment and chagrin, He learned that on the previous train IJis girl had gone to Hennepin. Then wildly on the cars he flung his gripsack, and proceeded, too, by way of Buda ana Chemung:, Oquawka, Lodi and Peru: Waseka, Mackinaw and Pekin, Neponsot, PinckneyviHe and 3treator, Wataga, Niles and Plauo—seekiu’ his missing girl. but failed to meet ’or. In vain be raved, in vain lie swore— In vain his wild, delirious whoopin’— He did not find her at C’henoa. Wauconda, Cairo or Macoupin; Nor yet at Bomonauk he ’spied her— So, with a mingled moan and shiver, Betwixt Kinniumly aud Oneida, He met his death iu Apple river. Love’s Comfort. Dear Heart, take heart, thy love will come attain; Borne future sun shall dawn upon thy bliss, And thou, forgetting all the past’s dull pain. Wilt greet thy lover with love’s happy kiss. Partin? is death, but death that lives anon. The vanished year—we sigh not for it now, For summer’s breath bids us forget what’s gone; And thou writ smile at grief yet—even thou— For he will come again and touch thy hand. And lift thy head unto his loyal breast. And thou who yesterday throughout the land Walked desolate shalt hear his love oonfest, And thou and he will walk the world once more Till time shall die upon life’s dusky shore. —Boston Transcript. A Prelude. A hundred buds into blossoms grew;— The blight Killed some ere the night-wind blew; Some lingered and gained but an ill-repute,— Oue only grew to the perfect fruit. A hundred seeds from the branches fell; — How many were lost I cannot tell. Borne rooted and throve ror a while— Ah me l Oue only grew to the perfect tree. I send thee a hundred songs of mine; And little I care for the ninety and nine, O friend of my youth: I bless my art For the one that will flourish within rliv heart. —Samuel V. Cole, in the Critic. Sorrow. When I was young I said to sorrow, “Come and I will play with thee.” He is near me now all day, And at night returns to say 4 ‘l will come again to-morrow— I will come and stay with thee.” Through the world wo walk together; His soft footsteps rustle by me, To Shield an unregarded head He harh built a winter shed; And all night in rainy weather, I hear his gentle breathings by me. —Aubrey Thomas De Vore. Classifying the Suicides, insurance Chronicle. During June, July and August, 1883. 475 persons in the United States committed suicide, against 514 during the same period last year. The ages vary from six to ninety-four years, the greatest number at any single age -twenty-four—occurring at the age of fifty. Among the leading causes were: Business trouble, 22; dissipation, 37 ; family trouble, 51 ; insanity, 8G; love trouble, 25; sickness, 32. With regard to condition, 128 were bachelors, 199 husbands, 62 wives, 32 maids, 15 widows, and 37 widowers. The means were specified as follows: Shooting 147, poisoning 110, hanging 104, drowning 58, and cutting the throat 30. Classed by nationality, 196 were Americans, 150 Germans. 48 English, 32 Irish, etc. Thejprincipal occupations were: Farmers 92, merchants 32, saloon-keep-ers 13, and laborers 14, By sex, 354 were male and 121 female. Ah exchancre says: There are more puns made Dr. Hull’s Cough Byrup free of charge, thau paid for by the owners. A good thing de'fervea the notice of the press.

UP THE FLUE. “You must have some rare experience to tell us, Mrs. Boswell,” said persuasive Lieutenant Russell, while he waited for the mail stage. "You have been at this frontier post ever since Captain Boswell was stationed here?” “Yes, we have been here eight years,” she replied, with a rare smile that gloritied her face. “I have passed through many trying ordeals here, but I really think I Had an adventure in the east, before I married the Captain, equal to any that I have experienced.” “Will 3 r ou relate it and oblige us?” urged Russell. “Mrs. Boswell,” said Dan, the irrepressible youngster of our party, “you can become a heroine of romance if you will.” “Thank you,” said our little hostess. “I don’t mind accepitng the honor.” Three of us were sitting in an inner apartment of the small frontier hostelry. The barroom was packed with miners, and we had chosen to have our supper served by ourselves, as we had appointed to go to Custer City in company. Mrs. Boswell was much below the medium size, quick of speech, light of movement as a bird and graceful as a fawn. “It was in 18—,” she began; “I had iust made the acquaintance of Captain Boswell; lie having some business matters to arrange with father, had called at our place several times. Finally, there came a rare day in autumn, and he and father were closeted the greater part of the day, overhauling papers, memoranda, deeds and receipts. My father at that time was doing a great deal of business as an attorney. “At tea time, father said to me, ‘Bess, you won’t mind an evening alone, so long as Thomas is about, will you?” “ ‘I said no, for although there were many robberies being committed in the neighboring cities, private families in the suburbs felt no fear. Our lior.se was a mile from the city proper, and a half mile from neighbors either way. “ ‘We find,’ he continued, ‘that the Captain has got to hunt up some more papers concerning the estate before he can give Baron a satisfactory title. We shall go to Judge Whitcomb’s office, and our search may be so successful that 11 o’clock will find us home again. Still we may be detained longer. Shan’t I call and tell your cousin Milly to come down and spend the night with you?” “ ‘No —yes,’ I contradictorily answered. ‘Do as you please; I am not timid in the least with Thomas about.’ “ But Captain Boswell is going to leave $5,000 here until he returns.’ “ ‘Does anyone know about the money?’ “ ‘Only ourselves.’ “‘Then lam not afraid. Besides, you are likely to be back before graveyards yawn and thieves walk abroad.’ “Thomas brought the horse round, and, while father spoke to him, I touched the Captain’s sleeve: “ ‘Where is your money left?’ “‘ln your father’s desk in the library.’ Then he looked with a tender, inquiring glance into mv face (how the little woman’s cheeks flushed at the memory), and said: ‘Little girl, if you are in the least afraid, we will notgo to-night, although it is absolutely necessary.’ “I told him honestly that I was not afraid. I never had that strata of timidity in my make-up peculiar to womankind; and so they rode away. “I sang about my work as I put tilings in shape around the room, and viewed the brilliant sunset without a fear or care. “Thomas, our new man-of-all-work, was very busy pottering about the grounds, tying up grapevines and mulching evergreens. I knew there was some coarse aftermath upon the hill, that father was anxious to have put on the strawberry beds, and, seeing Thomas go up there with his basket, I tied a scarf over my head, took another basket and went up to help him. “As I passed up the hill I saw a man in the highway speaking to him. I hesitated about going on. but the man made only a moment’s pause, and then-went down the hill, and was soon concealed by a turn in the highway. ‘“Who was that, Thomas,’ I inquired. “ ‘Oh, Miss, it was a man from the mills, saying that my brother lias had a bad fall on the’dam, and is bellowing for me to come and see him. His legs be broken entirely.’ “ ‘What will you do?’ “‘I told the man 1 could not come to see him to-day—but if I went. Miss, I would be sure to he Dack by eleven of the clock, if not earlier.’ “ ‘You may go, Thomas, if your brother is hurt so bad. Papa will not be away long.’ “ ‘But, my young lady’ “ ‘Never mind me in such a case as this.’ 1 was always very tender-hearted. ‘You may go and I will run right back to the house.’ “He talked for a few minutes more, was profuse in his thanks for my kindness, and then started down for the city. I took up the two baskets, and went singing to the house. “I sat an hour by the open window, enjoying intensely this being alone and the quiet beauty of the cool autumn evening. “Perhaps you will wonder at this,” and the dimples played about her pretty mouth, “but little birds were singing anew song in my heart, and the quiet let me bear the sweet echoes. “Bui directly I chided myseif for being rather careless; as the road was a thoroughfare, and chance stragglers might surprise me. I arose, closed my window, and obeying some strange, impressive power, I walked through the hall into the library, took my father’s key from its accustomed place, unlocked his desk, found the package of $5,000, and, placing it in my bosom, relocked the door, and returned to (he sittingroom. I did not light a lamp; I had no need of a fire, as that from the kitchen stove warmed the sitting-room sufficiently in this mild weather. “The house was old-fashioned, very, with a fire-place in the sitting-room opening up into a chjmney of capacity sufficient for a foundry stack. We hail cheerful open fires later on; but the house being an ancestral pile, was getting somewhat dilapidated, and the partition separating the flues in the large chimney had fallen in. Men had been set to clear out the rubbish and make repairs, but the work, half done, was suspended on account of the arrival of Captain Boswell and this important business affair. “1 would have enjoyed immensely to kindle a sparkling fire in the huge, wide fireplace, but as affairs were I could not. So I mused in darkness for hours. I really took no heed of time, until my quick ears caught the sound of a foot-fall approaching, close up to the doorslep, I could have taken my oath. It was so light an echo that I sprang to my feet, thinking that mv cousin Milly, absent when my father called, returning later, had come down to stay' with me. “I sprang up with a smile to answer her knock, albeit I was a bit jealous of her pretty face; but no knock came, and the echoes died out, and altogether I concluded that I had deceived myself in regard to them. Anyhow, I would light the lamp. I did so, and was startled to find it past 10 o’clock. I had gotten sufficiently aroused from my reverie now to want a book from the library shelves. I took up my lamp and went singing into the room. “f obtained the desired volume, stepped down from the stool, and—“lf ever any one felt themselves dying, I did at that moment. My song died on my

THE INDIANAPOLIS JOURNAL, SATURDAY, OCTOBER , 1 SSL

lips, while a thousand thoughts seemed to flash into my mind in one instant. Involun- j tarily 1 gasped, and then, with a strong effort of the will power for which I am famous, I took up the song again and sang it to the close. “Among other things, I remembered that the lock was off the library door for repairs. I remembered the lateness of the hour, and the probability that all the people were in bed and asleep. I remembered the footsteps in the door-vard, and there was a fresh, pungent smell of tobacco smoke in the room, a scent of smoke that was not in the room w hen I was there and placed the package of money in my bosom. “Do you wonder that my brain reeled, and my heart stopped beating for an instant? Besides, whoever the robber was, he would soon begin work, not knowing how early my father and the captain might return. And I should be murdered. Somewhere within a few yards or a few feet of me the robber assassin was concealed—either in the recess behind the cabinet, or under the long, draped, paper-strewn table. “A faint sound outside nearly made me drop the lamp from my hand; still, I had unconsciously left my first song and was singing: For hia bride a soldier won her, And a winning tongue had he. “I knew that temporary salvation —power and liberty to leave the room even—depended upon my appearing unconscious of the robber’s proximity. “I got out of the library and found myself in the sitting-room. A hasty glance at the door showed the key absent from the lock. "Treachery! “I wonder that this new revelation did not suffocate me. The man on the highwa.v—the injured brother. Tiiomas —had betrayed us. He had overheard about the money. A robber was in the house and another was outside. My retreat would he cut off. How thoughts ran riot through my mind. How would they kill me? Would I slitter long? At that instant I heard a faint creak of the library door at the far end of the long nail. “One swift, despairing glance around me, one wild idea of escape, and I extinguished tlie light upon the table, and, crouching in the fireplace, I rested one foot upon the andiron, swung out the iron crane, stepped the other foot upon the strong support, and rose up into the fine. Something touched my head. Thank God! it was the rope with wiiich the dislodged bricks had been hoisted out. Grasping this carefully with my hands, I held myself like a wedge in the opening. If I bad envied large, nobie-looking women before, I now had reason to be thankful for my diminutive form and ninety-odd pounds of avordupois. “I had little time, however, to consider anything excepting the imminent danger of dislodging a fragment of brick or mortar, and thus disclosing my hiding place, for the clock began with sonorous peals to strike Under cover of its echoes there were swift, soft steps in the hall, and the bolt of the outer door was withdrawn. The huge flue must have acted like a telephone, for I heard every sound with fearful distinctness. First there was a pause by the door of the sittingroom. then breathing iti it, then whispering. “I heard Thomas distinctly when he said: “ ‘She isn’t here, she’s gone to bed; but the money is in the library.’ “ ‘Be cautious,’ advised a strange voice, ‘and we may not have to hurt her.’ “They carefully retreated, and mv heart struck oft' the seconds against my ribs in a way that was suffocating, for I knew that their search would soon be over, and what then? “In less than five minutes they were whispering in the room again. ‘“Damn her!’ aspirated Thomas, ‘she took the money with her.’ “ ’Then we’ll have it if— ’ “The pause meant all that words could convey. The cold sweat was coming out of every pore of my body. The dust of the creosote had penetrated my mouth and nostrils, and I had to take one hand from the rope, in their absenee, and place a finger upon my lips to prevent sneezing. “ ‘Come, hurry,’ was the angry watchword exchanged between them, and I heard the stairs creaking as they ascended to my chamber. Thomas was familiar with all the house. “Why did I ’ not drop down now, and escape outside? “First, then, they had locked the outer door and withdrawn the key, to prevent a surprise from without. Second, there might be a third confederate outside. But, the most important reason of ail was, it seemed to me that I never could get out of the aperture that had allowed me entrance into the chimney. I ran all the risk of discovery and death in any case. “Oh, why did not my father and his companion return? It might be hours yet. “They had found me absent from my chamber and the adjoining rooms. They no longer used extreme caution. They hurried from one apartment to the other. I could feel the jar of moving furniture, and closet doors were opened hastily. The upper part of the house was ransacked, and then they came down the stairs upon the run. Time was precious to them now. With direful oaths they rummaged the lower floors, and finally returned to the sitting-room. “ ‘I saw the light here last,’ said Thomas, moving with his lamp across the room, ‘and here is the lamp on the table.’ “ She must have got out,’ “‘No; I watched for her, and every window is fastened on the inside.’ Then he continued; ‘Curse her! she’s a witch!’ and, baffled, they stood and poured volumes of oaths after me. “ 'l’d like to catch and knife her myself now.’ How lie ground it out between his teeth. “‘Shall we search more?’ “ ‘lt’s no use; we’ve turned over everything under whicti a mouse could hide.’ “ ‘What, then? Shall we waylay the old man and fix him?’ ‘“They haven’t the money; it was left here.' “ ‘The celler,’ suggested the voice. “Once more they dashed out, only to return in hot haste now, for there was the trot and rumble of a horse and carriage on the bridge between us and the city. “ ‘Stay,’ urged the stranger, ‘trump up some kind of a story, and we may secure the money yet.’ “‘I would,’ returned Thomas, ‘but the gifl’s a witch, and I am just as surejtbat she is somewhere near ali the time,-and would hand me oyer to justice—’ “There was a scamper outside and the sound of feet running towards the river came down the wide mouth at the top of the chimney. Father and Captain Boswell drove into the yard and up to the door, just as the clock struck 12. “ ‘Thomas,’ called my father, in his ringing tones, ‘come and take care of the horse.’ “Receiving no response from his usually punctual factotum, iie sprang up the steps, and uttered an exclamation of horror at finding the door open. “ ‘Boswell,’ said lie, ‘we certainly saw a light here when we came down the hill.’ “ ‘Quick, Jason!’ said the Captain, ‘there has been foul play here.’ “ ‘Foul play? My God! my poor little girl.’ “ ‘Father,’ I strove to call, but the first attempts, choked in dust and soot, ended in a hysterical hiccough. “ ‘Where is that! What is it?’ called my distracted father, and both men dashed for the library. “1 now strove to descend, but the movement brought down bushels of mortar and broken brick' from ail sides, and closed up the fine. I bethought me of the rope, and, by sticking my toes in here and there, I went up the chimney hand-over-hand. Agile as a cat, when I reached the top of the low chimney I sprang down upon the roof and began calling loudly for my father. “You should have heard them run through the house and halloo before they located uiy

voice. At last the Captain came out of doors. “ ‘Will you get me a ladder, please,’ said I, •I want to get down from here.’ “ ‘A ladder, Jason,’ shouted' the Captain, ‘the little girl is on the root.’ “For the love of heaven, girl, how came you there?’ said my father, as I landed upon the ground, and began shaking the soot from my clothes. “ ‘I went up there through the chimney, pana. But yon had better put up the horse—you will have to groom him yourself to-night —and then I will tell you all about it.’ “The Captain led me into the house, for I was trembling violently. “ ‘Now,’ said father, being absent only a moment or two, without letting me have time to mop the smut from my face and hands, ‘now tell us what this means—my little girl climbing the ridge-pole like a cat, at midnight?’ “In a few moments matters were explained. “‘Thomas, the villain!’ ejaculated my father, ‘l’ll have him if I have to hunt the two continents for him, and he shall have his deserts.’ “He kept his word. Thomas get a term in the State prison. “When I gave the captain his money I should have burst out into hysterical sobbing, only I remembered the soot in time to prevent shading myself in black crayon, and Captain Boswell believed that stature and bulk were not always certificates of the best materials, and”— “And,” finished Dan, our jester, “it may be said, Mrs, Boswell, that you actually flue to his arms.” She smiled and bowed, as the sonorous tones of the driver came in among us; “Stage ready, gentlemen.” A PROFESSOR OF TATTOOING. A New Oeparture—A Young Woman Who Fainted Under the Operation. JS'ew York Letter. "I have been doing this kind of work, said the Professor, who looked more like a laboring man tiian an artist, “for ten years. I have tattooed seventeen people who are upon exhibition in this country and Australia. Trie designs upon all of them are-the same thing in the end. Coats of arms, shields, flags and the like are the regulation designs. I atn taking anew departure with this one. I am making hint a religious subject.” “I thought most ali of these people were caught by wild Indians and Tartars, and tattooed as a means of torture.” “So they are—l am the wild Indian and Tartar.” “How about the original Costentenus?” “Well, it’s a fact that he was tattooed by the Tartars, but how it happened to be done lias never been told right. He was caught in Tartary suw'/.hg s’iawls, and they tattooed stripes upon him.” “I’ve had,” continued the Professor, “some of the nicest ladies in New York come to me to be tattooed. Some of them have their lovers’ names pricked upon their arms. Sometimes they are taken by a verse of poetry, and have that pricked in. Lots of them have garters pricked in, with fancy bow-knots on the sides. I had one young lady come to me last spring. She wore a heavy veil and wouldn’t take it off. She had a photograph of a good-looking young fellow, ana she wanted it pricked in just below the neck. You can’t prick in a photograph small and have it look anything like, because you can’t keep the ink from running a little. So I told her there wouldn’t be room to prick it in there. She asked me if I had a place where she could fix herself, and I took her into my wife’s room. In a few minutes she came out again, with her veil on. but her back was bared. ‘Put it on there,’ she said, and I did so. I had been working about an hour when she became sort of still like, and I found she had fainted. I called in my wife to bring her to, and then went ahead. It took me nearly four hours to do the job, but it was a good one. 1 never saw her face, and I don’t know to this day who she is. I suppose she uses two mirrors now. The tattooing is done with eight or ten of the finest cambric needles bound together and ground flat upon the sides till they are as sharp as razors. The needles are dipped in Chinese inks and then are inserted rapidly through the skin. Once done, it can never wholly be removed. The designs may be spoiled by blistering, but the coloring matter is in the flesh, and will show through forever.”

THE BOOTH BROTHERS. A Reminiscence of the Assassination of President Lincoln. New York Journal. Junius Brutus, who was buried yesterday, is the first of the brothers to die since the tragic end of John Wiikes Booth, eighteen and a half years ago, and the event has brought to mind some reminiscences of that great tragedy. When John Wilkes Booth committed his crime his brothers had not seen him for some months. The last occasion on which they had acted together was in the previous year, at the Winter Garden, where the brother who is just dead also played. At the time of Mr. Lincoln’s murder the two other brothers were in Boston. Junius Brutus was manager of the Boston Theater. He had gone home and was in bed when the telegram reached him of the accusation that had been made against his brother. Not believing it, he rushed to the telegraph office and sent dispatch after dispatch without any result. Then he went round to the newspaper offices to make inquiries, butcould get nopositive news. It was before the days of interviewing, and everybody respected his grief—even the terrible reporter. Edwin Booth was attending a dinner at Boston, wiiich I believe was given in his honor, at any rate he was just about to rise with a champagne glass to reply to some toast. It was at the Parker House. Suddenly a waiter came in and interrupting him handed him a dispatch. Mr. Booth put down the champagne glass and asked to be excused a moment as the message was of the utmost urgency. He opened it; turned deadly pale and sunk in his chair with his head on the table, exclaiming: “My God! my God!” There was great excitement in a moment. Somebody picked up the dispatch and read it, and then, one by one, the people left the room. At about 4 o’clock, the two brothers, Edwin and Junius, met both of thein crushed with the wftigbt of the terrible calamity. They went away together and what occurred between them will never be known. The late Junius Brutus Booth never mentioned His brother’s name again, and was deeply moved if ever the subject was broached in his presence. He accompanied Edwin when the remains of John Wilkes Bootli were removed from Washington to the family tomb at Baltimore, and was present at tiie reinterment of the bones of his unfortunate brother. The following story of Henry Irving was told in London the other day by an American actor: “Irving," said he, “has the reputation of being a little ‘near,’ as they say here, in small money matters. One night iast month he came down to the Lyceum Theater in a hansom, and at lie allighted he handed the cabby his exact fare, one shilling, omitting the customary gratuity of tbrnppence or sixpence. Tiie cabby very solemnly took the coin, looked at it cross-eyed, and said: ‘Beg pardon Mister Hirving, but don’t you play ‘Shylock?’ ” “Why, fellow?” asked Irving, in his subcellar voice. “Cause, sir,” said the cabby, “if you’re as good a Jew hon the stage has you liar boss, you must be a great hactor." And the cabby rolled away; Messrs. Dolph A Carper, druggists, Wtnamac. Pulaski county, say: “Brown’s Iron Bitters takes the lead of anything we ever bandied. ”

HANGING A PICTURE. Mr. Spoopendyke’a Disastrous Failure In that Line. Brooklyn Eagle. “Now, my dear,” said Mr. Spoopendyke, prancing into the sitting-room with every evidence of delight and contentment pictured on his face. “Now, my dear, what do you think I’ve brought you?” “I’m sure I have no idea,” fluttered Mrs. Spoopendyke, gazing anxiously on the flat package Mr. Spoopendyke carried under his arm. “It isn’t anew silver salver for the water-pitcher, is it?” “You hit what it isn’t, the very first whack, Mrs. Spoopendyke. It never had ail)' notion of being anything of the sort,” remonstrated Mr. Spoopendyke with some severity. If you can’t guess any better than that, I’ll take it back to the man and get my money.” “If it was done up in a box, I should think it was the shawl I told you about,” hazarded Mrs. Spoopendyke. “I don’t think they would do a shawl up in a bundle like that, would they?” “They might,” replied Mr. Spoopendyke, calmly brushing his whiskers. “You never can tell what these shop-keepers will do when they get started.” “Oh, my dear, you don’t mean to say you have brought me that shawl!” and Mrs. Spoopendyke made a spring for her husband and wound her arms around his neck. “Let up!” gurgled Mr. Spoopendyke, wrenching himself loose. “If I ever intended to give you the shawl you have busted the project now. Think I’m going to bring home an executioner in the shape of a measly shawl and run the risk of being choked to death for it?” “Then it isn’t the shawl,” sighed Mrs. Spoopendyke, somewhat disappointed but still overcome with curiosity. “Please tell me what it is, for I know it is something nice.” "Look,” grinned Mr. Spoopendyke, unwrapping the package and developing a cabinet photograph of himself nicely framed in guilt. “Don’t that beat all the shawls in the market? How do you like it?” and Mr. Spoopendyke held it out at arm’s length ana admired it hugely. “Isn’t it perfectly splendid?” gulped Mrs. SpookendvKe, choking a little. “It is the best likeness of you I have ever seen. Did you get it for me?” “Os course,” replied Mr. Spoopendyke, still buried in admiration of his counterfeit. ‘‘You don’t imagine I got it for the rats, do you? Haven’t any kind of a notion I brought it home to kill bugs with, have you? I thought you might like it, and so I went and had it taken. Now where can we hang it?” “I don’t know,” murmured Mrs. Spoopendyke, with her finger to her lips and her mind still on the shawl. “Why wouldn’t that space between the two windows be a good place?” “Why wouldn’t the top shelf of the pantry be better?” growled Mr. Spoopendyke. "If you are hunting for a place where the light won’t strike it, why not put it tinder the carpet, or stick it between the mattresses? This picture demands some refulgence to show it off, and I’m going to put it where the most refulgence is calculated to strike it. Now, where caii we put it?” “Isn’t that a good place, right over the bed?” suggested Mr. Spoopendyke, who began to see that her husband was aiming for the chimney piece where the painting of her father was Suing for years. "If you hang it over the bed, I can see it whenever I come into the room.” - “Just so.” snarled Mr. Spoopendyke, running a cord through the eyes in the back of the frame. “And if I hung it on your back you could see it every time you turned around to see how your measley dress fitted. If I was particularly anxious for you to keep it within your vision all the time I’d put it under the bed, where it would confront you whenever you started in on a hunt for burglars. I don’t know, though,” he continued, as a brilliant idea occurred to him. ‘‘You like that place between the two windows best, don’t you? I don’t know but what that is a good place for a picture.” “Best place in the room,” giggled Mrs. Spoopendyke, satisfied tiiat she had carried her point and saved the location sacred to her father. If I were going to have my picture liung in this room, I shouldn’t hear to any other place than right there, between the two windows,” and Mrs. Spoopendyke pursed up her lips as one who declined to recede from her proposition under any circumstances. “Then I'll tell you what we’ll do,” said Mr. Spoopendyke, with a gleam of speculation in his eyes, “we’ll hang your father’s picture up there, and I will be content to take the subordinate place over the chimneypiece. That makes it pleasant all around, and no one has a right to object.” Mrs. Spoopendyke saw she had been caught in her own trap, and made no further resistance. “Where’s the Step-ladder?” asked Mr. Spoopendvke, cheerfully. “Bring me the portable Tower of Babel, and I will fresco this wall with the finest of modern artistic efforts.” Mrs. Spoopendyke lugged the step-ladder upstairs, and Mr. Spoopendyke, having arranged His string, mounted to take down the old gentleman's picture with a view to the proposed removal. “Look out you don’t fall, dear,” suggested Mrs. Spoopendyke, forgetting her defeat in her solicitude for her husband. “That’s all right,” smiled Mr. Spoopendyke from his perch. “You just quit roosting on that bottom round like a hen, and I will get on without any further trouble.” Mrs. Spoopenpvke jumped off the ladder, but her dress caught on tiie step, and down came Mr. Spoopendyke like a bundle of soiled clothes, rolling on the carpet and trying to get clear of the ladder that had rolled after him and mixed itself up with hint so that it was difficult to tell which was which. “What did you let go for?” yelled Mr. Spoopendyke, trying to get his elbow out of his mouth, and still straggling with the ladder. “Didn't I tell ye to hold on? Think I don’t know •bow to get off t) ladder when I get ready? S'pose I want a ladder turned bottom upwards when I want to get down? Take it off!” he roared, satisfying' himself that he was powerless. “If you wont to see a ladder climb up Spoopendyke, stand me up against the wall and give me a show. Dod gast that ladder!” and he rammed his legs between two of the rounds in his efforts to free himself, and, finding one leg caught, drove the other after it to keep it company. “Wait a minute, dear,” pleaded Mrs. Spoopendyke, tugging away at the ladder, but tacitly admitting that she was unequal to the task. “Keep perfectly quiet and I will get you out.” “How’m I to keep still!” howled Mr. Spoopendyke, naturally resenting any assistance from his wife, at the same time recognizing his helplessness. “How’m Ito keep quiet when you’re pulling my legs out like a pair of teeth? Let go! Pull it around and loose that foot! Drop it, can’t ye? Don’t ye know enough to straighten that ieg before you twist it off? What’s the matter with you anyway?” and with a vicious wrench, Mr. Spoopendyke contrived to free himself from the ladder and assume a perpendicular. “Let the picture go, dear,” cooed Mrs. Spoopendyke. "You can fix it some other time." “No time like the present!" hissed Mr. Spoopendyke, jamming the ladder against the wall and mounting once more. “Never put off a father-in-law until to-morrow that you can get away with to-day! Now you hold that tiling tight, or you will he apt to

be a widow between this and the time it takes to sweep me tip!” and Mr. Spoopendyke seeing tiiat his wife had a death grip on the ladder, took the picture from the wall and began to descend cautiously. “Shall I take the picture, dear?” asked Mrs. Spoopendyke, letting go the ladder and holding up her hands for the painting. Mr. Spoopendyke turned to hand it to her, and losing his balance once more came to the floor with a crash. “Got it?” shrieked Mr. Spoopendyke. as the ladder again toppled over on him, and lie saw a repetition of his former mishap. “Think ye got the measly picture? Got a notion tiiat ye saved enough to collect the insurance on ? If the picture is safe,” he continued, in a subdued and melancholy voice, “if the picture is saved, nevermind me. I’m all right. I am a measly virgin, and my lamp is filled and some running over on the carpet. Never mind the step ladder. Where I am now going I shall hop around on aoil gasted wings, and will do the Master’s will without any idiot of a wife to hold the golden stairs for me! Goodby, dear. When they ask for me, tell ’em I’m a sainted angel with feathers for stirrups, and gone to tiiat realm where the measly pictures cease from troubling, and the dod gasted step ladders do not break in and corrupt. Going to lift that thing off me. or are you going to use it for a tombstone? Either mark it ‘Hie Jacet Spoopendyke,’ or take it away, before I begin to exercise my supernatural strength and kick it into the realms of eternal bliss, where the ladder bitetli like a !” and with a prodigious kick Mr. Spoopendyke sent the ladder to the nethermost part of the room and arose to his feet foaming. “Never mind tiie pictures, dear,” suggested Mrs. Spoopendyke. “You leave it with me and I'll hang them to-morrow.” "Oh, you’ll do it," howled Mr. Spoopendyke, whirling on his heel and corning down hard on his own photograph, wiiioli he had carefully laid on the floor. “You are the one to hang it. Trust you fora tiling of tiiat kind! If you had a wire along your ceiling and a catalogue in vour ear, you’d only want a tin type and a row to be an academy of design,” and with this,complicated description of iiis wife’s few failings, Mt. Spoopendyke shot into bed as if he were practicing arenery, and nursed liis wounds and wrath until he fell asleep. “I don’t care,” muttered Mrs. Spoopendyke, trying to untie the knot of her shoelace with her teeth. “I don’t care. It will teach him another time to let poor pa’s picture alone, though I suppose I tiave got to take it down to-morrow or lie will be filling iiis virgin’s lamp in good earnest, and breaking his neck so as not to waste the oil. Anyway, he will not look well enough to have another picture taken for a day or too, and then perhaps we will have a group, ants in the case of a group I wouldn’t object to putting that over the mantel and letting pa go between the windows, because pa’s dead and he wouldn’t mind, anyway.” And with this reflection Mrs. Spoopendyke disrobed quietly and went to bed, figuring on whether she would like to have the group lmng with a red cord, to suit Mr. Spoopendyke's complexion, or a blue one, which would be more becoming to hers. He Saw Widows. Detroit Freo Press. Officer Button, of the Union Depot, picked up the other day a memorandum book evidently lost by someone attending the State fair. All the entries were made in a busi-ness-like manner, and some of them are readable. The first entry is: “Shall take sl(i with me to the State fair. Second-class hotel good enough for me. Beware of pick-pockets. Keep your eyes open for a good-looking widow. View the animals, and don't forget to take two clean handkerchiefs along.” The second entry reads: “Fair np to the average. Saw a widow in the car going lip. Didn’t seem to like my style. Somebody has stuck me with a bogus half-dollar. Saw another widow on the grounds. Rather too stout. Viewed the animals and was kicked by a steer." Third entry—“ Good attendance. Slept on the floor. Jam on the street cars. Passed the bogus money off on a bootblack. Saw a widow at the hotel; most too lean. Went to the theater last night; cant remember the play; saw several widows, but no chance to make an impression.” Fourth entry—“ Big crowd on the grounds. Beat my way in. Saw a widow on the fence. Most too boisterous for my locality. Saw a horse race; one horse beat all the others. Viewed the machinery, and was hit on the ear by a loafer. Saw a widow viewing a headless rooster; mouth most too large for my part of the State. Slept in a barn for nothing.” Fiftli entry—“ Saw a widow in the postoffice. Blind in one eye. No good. Big jam. Tried to beat my way in, but couldn't. Saw a horse race. Saw a widow on the grand stand.' Bowed to her. Cold cut. v.ewed the big ox. Saw a widow in Honey HalL Raised my hat. Got left. Fees blue.' 1 As that was the last entcy it would seeta as if lie gave up in disgust and started for home. A person supposed to be him ‘saw a widow” at the depot on Friday afternoon, and became so obnoxious tiiat she hit him over the head with an umbrella and two or three men reached for him with cow-uide boots. Trying to Kutaiu Coleridge. Cincinnati Enquirer. When Lord Coleridge came down from, breakfast yesterday morning he was accosted by a rough-looking son of the old sod who had been waiting for some time at the hotel door. “Are yez Lord Coleridge, yer Honor?” “I am, sir,” replied his Lordship with dignity. “Lord Chafe Justice av England?” “The same, my good man." “I bav a case befoor ’Squire Antony I wud like yez to plade fur me.” Lord Coleridge smiled faintly, and moved off toward the reading room, remarking that he did not have the time. “But yez nnist do it,” urged the man in search of counsel. “I’m Mike Flynn, av the Saxth ward, an’ a bloody duffer has brat suit agin me fur bracken doon his tince wid my express wagon. Si Keck told me yez wud take the case fur me.” At this point the clerk came to the rescue of his Lordship, and Mr. Flynn, of the Sixth ward, was invited to take a walk, English in One Lesson. New York Sun. It is said to be difficult to teach a Spaniard to say cockroach. A tutor says that it is one of tiie hardest words the Spaniards have to learn. To illustrate, he called upon a young Spaniard, who is struggling with the mysteries of the language, to pronounce the word. An expression of sadness passed over tiie olive-tinged countenance of the Spaniard as he thought a moment, and then hesitatingly said, “Crockarocha.” “No; cock-roach,” repeated the tutor. "Cokarocha,” said the Spaniard. “Trv now- c-o-c-k-r-o-a-c-h, cockroach.” “Kokroeha,” said the Spaniard. “Say cock.” “Croka.” “Now roach.” “Rocha.” “Now cockroach." “Crockarocha.” “Now tell what it is." “Smalla bugga." Goat’s milk is said to be a great beantifier of the complexion, and many young ladies are drinking it on that account. DANDRUFF Is Removed by the Use of Cocoaine, and it stimulates ainl promotes tiie growth of the hair. Burnett's Flavoring Extracts are iho best.

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