Indianapolis Journal, Indianapolis, Marion County, 17 May 1884 — Page 9

lii State. Is it tlie martins or katydids?— Early morning ov late at night? A dream. perhaps, kneeling down on the lids Os a dying man's eyesight. Over and over I heard the rain— Over and over I waked to see The blaze of the as again and again Its stai e insulted me. Time is so long when a man is dead! •Someone sews; and the room is made Vcry clean; and the light is shed Soft through the window-shade. Yesterday I thought: *T know Just how the bells will sound, and how Friends will talk, and the sermon go, And the hearse horse bow and bow!” This is to-day: and I have no thing To think of—nothing whatever to do But to hear the throb of the puke of a wing That wants to fly back to you, —James Whitcomb Riley. A Hyiun of Faith. Deep amid life's joys and sorrows, Cilad to-days and sail to-morrows, From tbe cradle to the tomb, There's a light that e’er discloses To the pilgrim beds of roses— Light of faith to cheer the gloom. Dark may be the path, and dreary, Sad the heart may be, and weary, And despair enshroud the whole; But, within tbe darkest places, Beams the light of angel faces— Angels of faith to cheer the soul. So, whate'er of pain or pleasure, What of loss or what of treasure, To each human lot may fall, Let us take it, uncomplaining, Filled with faith in Him who, reigning, Sits m God and judge o’er all. —B. K. lUfinbcthaa*. Frankfort, led. Little Giftiu. .Out of the focal and foremost tire, Out of the hospital s wall as dire; Smitten of grapeshot and gangrene (Eighteenth battle and he sixteenl! Spectre, such as you seldom see, Little Giffiu of Tennessee. “Take him and welcome." the surgeons said; “Little the doctor can help the. dead!” So we took him and bnmght him where The balm wav sweet in the summer air. And we laid him down on a wholesome bed— Utter Lazarus, heel to head! We watched the struggle with bated breath— Skeleton bov against skeleton death; Months of torture, bow many such! Weary weeks of stick and crutch; And still a glint of the steel-blue eye Told of a spirit tliat would not die. And did not; nay, more, in Death's despite. The crippled skeleton teamed to write; “Dear Mother,” at tirst. of course, and then “Dear Captain," inquiring about, the men. Captain's answei*: "Os eighty-five Giffiu and I are left alive!'’ Word of gloom from the war one day: Johnston is pressed at the front, they say. Jiittlc Oiffin whs up and-away: A teai*—his first —as lie bade good-bye. Dimmed the glint of his steel-blue eye. “JH write if snared!” There was news of the fight But none of Giffiu- -he did not write. I sometimes fancy that were I king Os the princely Knights of the Golden Ring. With the sung of the minstrel iu mine ear. And the tender legend that trembles here, T would give the best on his bended knee. The whitest sotil of my chivalry. For little Giffiu oi‘ Tennessee! —Frank Tieknor.

At the Door. I Cl)ought myself indeed secure— So fust the door, so firm t he lqck— Hut. lo! lie teddling comes to lure My parent ear with timorous knock, Mv heart were stone, rouM it withstand The sweetness of my baby's plea— That timorous baby knocking and •‘Please let me in—it’s only me." I threw aside th* unfinished book. RegavUess of its tempting charms, opening wide the door. I took My laughing darling in my arms. Who knows but in Eternity. I. like a truant child, shall wait The glories of a life to ho. Beyond the Heavenly Father's gate? And will that Heavenly Father heed The truant’s supplicating cry, A at the outer door I plead *• Tis T. () Father! only If” —Eugene Field, in Chicago Current. Gray Tower of Dal men y. The lovers are whispering under thy shade, Gray tower of Dahneny! I leave them ami wonder alone in the glade Beneath thee. Dalnieny! Their thoughts are of all the bright years coming on. Hut mine are of days and dreams that are gone. They see the fair flowers spring has thrown on the grass, And the clouds in the blue light theta* eyes as they pass: But my feet are deep down in a drift, of dead leaves. And I hear what they hear not, a lone bird that grieves. What matter/ the end is not far for us all, And spring, through the summer, to winter must fall; And the lovers’ light hearts, e'en as mine, will be laid. \t last, and forever, low under thy shade, Gray tower of Dalmeuy! —Longman's Magazine. The .Secret. ihe had no wealth of flowing tresses; She had no wondrous store of tin; Her hair and purse, the bard confesses, Were rather thin. She had no soul-ensnaring glances. And in ner cheek was ne'er a dimple; She stirred no poet's errant fancies, And looked half simple. But yet she won the heurts of all men. And had more offers in a week From good and bad. from short and tall men. Than Fame can speak. You wonder, then, what was her dower? Well, l will try to tell you, briefly; ft was her taffy-giving power, Foremost and chiefly. —Harvard Lampoon. Love’s Resurrection Day. Round among the quiet graves, When the sun was low. Love wont grieving—Love who saves— Did the sleepers know ( At his touch the flowers awoke, At his tender call Birds into sweet singing broke, And it did befall From tle blooming, bursting sod All Love's dead arose, And went flying up to God By a way Love knows. —Louise Chandler Moulton, in June Harper. Anecdotes of Charles O’Conor. N< w York Commercial Advertiser. Walking tip town one afternoon in company of Judge William Kent, sou of the great chancellor, the conversation had turned on religion. Said Judge Kent: “O’Conor, how a man of your ability and dearnese of vision can subscribe to *ertain of tho dogmas of your church, is, I conies.?, a mystery to my understanding.” “Sir,” responded O’Conor, “a gentleman never changes either the church or the politics into which he was born.’’ The ingenuity of this answer at once shut off discussion which might have bred a coolness between warm friemds. The other anecdote was a remark of Mr. O'Oonor’s made to Mr. Emmet, the eminent counsel, that he, O'Conor, had never read a lawbook through. He qualified the refnark by stating that he only read law with a specific end in view, and that a great deal of the matter in the books he knew as by an intuition owing to the logical turn of his nnud. Those Complaining Os sore throat or hoarseness should use Bro~ n - g Bronchial Troches. The effect is extr- , r dinurv particularly when used by au J SDe J -8* r clearing the voice. auaspe**Vespise opal

A DAKOTA BLIZZARD. Carrie Wei ton locked tbe sehool-houso door and walked down the dusty highway towards the farm-house she called home. She was very tired, and the long mile before her seemed interminable. Just then there was the sound of wheels, and a span of bay horses were reined up close beside her. ‘‘Would you like to ride home, Miss Wei ton?’ someone said. Carrie looked up in the sun browned face of Alexander Hall. There was no smile in his grave eyes, and the shadow of a frown was visible on his brow. “I thank you—no. I would prefer to walk,” Carrie responded. “Very well. Get up, ponies.” And the span and buggy whirled past lier. leaving a cloud of dust to settle upon her linen dress and straw hat as she trudged along the highway, looking very flushed and angry. “The idea of his thinking I would make up with him in this wayl” she said, mentally. “No, indeed! He will have to apologize before I ride with him again. I could see that he was just as set and stubborn as ever. No doubt he intended to give me another lecture, and thought this would be a splendid opportunity. He will learn that I have some dignity. I eau tell him.” Carrie was so tired she ate but little supper that night, and retired early to her room to think over matters in solitude, away from the clattering tongue of good Mrs. Smith, who felt it her solemn duty to “entertain’* her boarder —said entertainment consisting in recitations of the neighborhood affairs, past and present. When Carrie felt well and happy, and was not worn out with her day's work, she bore it very heroically. But to-night she was too nervous to endure the ordeal. Mrs. Smith’s voice grated upon her nerves like the filing of a saw. and she flew to her room for protection, pleading a headache. In truth it was a heartache which troubled the girl. During the last six month she and Alexander Hall had been very good friends—such very good friends that they were, in fact, lovers, and needed only a few words to belong to each other for all time: words which would have been spokeu ere this but for an unexpected event. Smitlitown boasted of two stores which, of course, were visited at certain periods by drummers. One of them, a handsome, dashing fellow, had recently made it in his way to pass Sunday in Smithtown. Every one in the little town knew why ho had remained. He had chanced to see Carrie Welton one evening at the store making some purchases, and he was not at all slow to express his admiration for the teacher. He begged the favor of an introduction, which, owing to the somewhat informal manners of Smitlitown society, it was not difficult to obtain, since everybody knew everybody there, and the handsome agent seemed a very nico fellow indeed, one whom all the young ladies would be glad to consider an acquaintance. Mr. Parker attended church the following Sabbath, and walked home with Carrie, much to the indignation of Alexander Hall. He took it upon himself to say some very cutting things to Carrie when they next met, to rebuke her for her readiness to receive attention from a clothier's “dummy,” as he called Mr. Parker, and they had parted in anger. Their next meeting was that on the dusty rojwl.

Carrie congratulated herself upon her behavior, and then cried herself to sleep. But she was sure he would come aerain in a day or two, and then she. would be a little mow gracious, and take him back into her favor, for really Smithtown was very dull without him. But Alex, did not come to her the next day or the next, and a whole week went by without her seeing him. Then a strange report came to her oars. “Alex. Hall has an auction to-day,” one of her pupils remarked. “An auction. What fori” Carrie asked wonderin glv. “Why, he’s going away—going to take up a claim in Dakota. He’s sold his farm to Mr. Roberts, and to day he sells off his horses and machinery.’’ “Does his mother go with him!” asked Carrie, with a dull pain at her heart. “No; she is going to lowa, to her daughter. Os course the farm belongs to her and the money will be hers; and she says she does not want to go into anew country. But Alex, is wild to go. and pa says he will be a rich man in a few years —that the land out there will sell for a big price. ” It was not a very orderly school the remainder of that day. Carrie seemed to be in a sort of nightmare. Could it be true? And was lie going away without coming to say good-bye to her, and tliis shadow between them? But he did. all the same. Three horrible days and nights went by, and then she saw him pass the school-house on the afternoon train which wonld bear him from Smithtown. It was the noon hour, and she and several of the larger prls were sitting under a spreading oak, watching the smaller children play “ring around the roses.” As he passed by he swung his liat to the children, with whom ho was a favorite, and said: "Good-bye, girls! good bye. boys! 1 am off for Dakota!' And Ihen he was gone. llow the dreadful weeks wore by Carrie could never tell. But they did go by, and the end of the term came at last—in August. It was three months since Alex Hall had gone. Mr. Parker had visited Smithtown once during that time, and had been astonished to have Miss Welton turn her back upon him very deliberately when she met him at the village store. lie was not accustomed to this kind of treatment from pretty girls in small villages; for Mr. Parker was one of the young men who had “a sweetheart in every port,*’ and he fully resolved to make Miss Welton h ; s Smithtown sweetheart; and now all his plans were upset by the very disdainful manner of that young lady herself. He sought an explanation by post, but his billet-doux was never noticed, and he was obliged to look elsewhere for a sweetheart to make his number good. The very day that school closed Carrie received a letter from her uncle Tom. Uncle Tom was her only near relative, a roving man of Bohemian tastes, a sort of jack-at-all-trades, and good at none. But now lie seemed to have found anew location where he would be liable to remain some time. “I am in Dakota,” he wrote, “and I’ve taken up tho nicest claim you ever saw—ono hundred and sixty acres. I have built me a little house, and I keep old bachelor’s hall. I go where I please in the day. I’m only five miles from the railroad, and people are coming in and villages going up fast. I have plenty to do and see—odd jobs of carpenter work, to keep mo in living expenses, and then I go back to my shanty and sleep nights. You know I was a soldier two years in the late war. Well,* that counts just so much time on my land, and when I once own it, I can sell it or keep it for a homestead, as I choose. Lots of women are taking up claims. Now, I’ve been thinking of you, Carrie. There is a splendid quarter section a littlo way from mine, it will be picked up soon, and if you waut to make money, and have the grit to stand roughing it, you’d better be the girl to pick it up. You must have saved up something, teaching so steedily as you have for five years. It would cost you but little to come out hero on a landholder's ticket, but a littlo more to put up a small cabin, and but a little more to keep you for six months, and then you just about own your land—at least youv’e only got to make periodical visits to it after that. And you can find enough to do in tlic meantime And you CUJJ wear your old • clothes and dress as well as thd best of them. And in a few years you’ll be a rich woman. Carrie, for this land will sell at a good price, it is so admirably located and fertile. ” Carrie had no sooner finished the letter than her decision was formed to go. She hated Smithtown and everybody in it, and tho further she could get away, the better. She wrote her uncle that she would arrive within the next three weeks, and she was with him in less than two. “I have the lumber already for your little house,” he said, as he drove licr from the sta tipn to his “bachelor” hall. Somehow sk<j was lighter-hearted and hrp pier since O ’no know she was in Dakota than she had hf-cn for months. She knew why—she did hot cheat herself. It was because she was in tho same country with Alex. Hall. It gave her a sense of companionship—this very knowledge. I w jfi tbe morning 1 will take you out and show I nbroad’^ *• claim,” continued her ungjc. “And

THE INDIAXAFOLIS JOURNAL, SATURDAY, MAY IT, 18S4.

I’ve chosen this site for your cabin. Till he about a mile from mme—just a nice walk for you when you get lonesome." The next morning was bright and sunny, but of course windy. “What a wind! Does it blow often like this?” asked Carrie, as they rolled along over the smooth prairie. •Wind? Why, this is a calm day, my dear,” said Uncle Tom. “Just wait until yon have seen a Dakota blizzard, my dear, before you talk of wind.” By and by they came to Carrie's “quarter-sec-tion,” as Uncle Ton called it. Carrie could not see where it “began " or “left off,” she told Uncle Tom. It was like all the rest of the country—just land, and nothing moro; prairie molting into prairie as far as the eye could reach. “Well, but I know where the invisible lines lie,” responded Undo Tom. “Now over yonder on that knoll your cabin will be biiilt after we have attended bo the legal formalities, and that is tire extreme southern limit of your claim. A little soutli of it there is a slight ravine, and then another knoll The ravine is the dividing line between two quarter sections.” “Who owns the other onef r asked Carrie, anx ious to know who might be her neighbor“l don't believe it is taken, though T hoard something ;.bout it the othor day. Some fellow was looking it up I believe. There are some dozens of them around almost daily. Tliat was the reason I was in a hurry for you t ©me.” A few days later, after the legal formalities had been attended to. Uncle Tom drove Carrie out again to look at the cabin that was in process of erection on the opposite knoll. “Why, that claim has been taken, too! I wonder who will bo my neighbor?” queried Carrie. “I can find out at the laud omce,” Uncle Tom replied. lie did so and gave Carrie the desired information the next day. “It's some fellow named Hall—A.lHall,” he said. “He’s just sold out his interest in some claim about fifty miles north of here, and now he’s taking up this, which he intends to keep as a homestead. They often sell out at a nice figlire after staving a few months on a claim. Some, fellow pays them a good sum for their chance, and they go elsewhere.” “A. Hall.” Carrie felt a sudden leaping of her heart a,ud a curious excitement. But it was not likely that this was Alex. It would he too wonderful to 'be true. Yet it was Alex! She saw him at the posfcoffke the next day, and passed him vitboutso much as a glance. Alex, looked as if he had seen an apparition, and took a step forward and then stood still, chilled by her cold glance in which there was no recognition. After all. it was his own fault. He knew he had conducted himself like a brute and an idiot when he left Smithtown. He liad realized it a dozen limes since—realized it constantly, iu fact—with a dull heartache whenever he was alone with himself. But he had never been quite brave or manly enough to write and ask her pardon, believing ere this Mr. Parker had the first place in her heart. And now she was here in Dakota! How strange! A greater surprise awaited him in the knowl edge that Carrie's claim and cabin were just opposite his own. The two cabins were completed and furnished, and the occupants moved in. Alex.'s was the more pretentious of the two in the exterior, and Carrie’s the moro sumptuous within. For she had brought her books and she bail a few plants, and with those indescribable feminine knickknacks, which some women seem to create by a turn of their hand, her rooms were very cosy. Yet she was m>t very much at home. She passed a great deal of her time at Unde Tom's, setting his “bachelor hail" to rights, and mending ami darniug for him. But she went to her desolate little house to sleep. She was not tun id—she knew that no harm could come to her there. She knew that the Law of kindness prevailed in this new country, which was better than any law, “to keep the peace,” to biniL the people together. She occasionally saw Alex., but they never recognized each other; yet there was to her a sense of protection in the* knowledge that ho was so near.

“Got acquainted with your neighbor yet. Carrie?” asked Uncle Tom, after a month had passed. “No. and I don’t want his acquaintance,” an vwered Carrie, rather icily. “Nice fellow. I think,” said Uncle Tom. “He's got business in him, and will make a successful man. He’s Liken up a tree ciaim now. i was talking with him to-day.” ■‘What’s a tree cUdmf' asked Carrie. “Oh, you plant so many trees and have 'em growing at a certain stated time—say two years —and the land is yours. He said you might do that, and be wortli just so much more. It would cost you but a trifle to have the trees planted ” “He is taking an interest- in my affairs, is he? Well, nobody thanks him for his advice,” snapped Carrie, in a voice very unusual to her. Uncle Tom wondered what had come over the girl, usually so sweet tempered. The weeks went by, and November came. Carrie was on the third month of her six. She had made a great many friends, and had read, and sewed, and made her uncle's cabin and her own very tasty, and comfortable, and neat with her handiwork. She felt that her time had been Well employed and the days had not been long And yet she and Alex, nad never exchanged a word. No one—not even Unclo Tom—kuew tliat they had ever been friends. One November day Carrie was “tacking a comforter.” which she had pieced together out of bits of calico. The wind had been blowing With increasing fury from the northwest all day. Toward evening it became terrible, and a sleety snow began to fall. It seemed to shake the little cabin to its foundation. Carrie felt her heart sink with fear. This was something beyond any of her former experiences, and she remembered what Undo Tom had said of a “blizzard.” “Tliis must surely be a blizzard.” she thought. Higher and higher rose the wind, louder and louder it shrieked. The walls of the house shook, trembled and then— Carrie was conscious ot being lifted up into tho air by some unseen force, and whirled through tho darkness and then falling. After that she knew nothing for a brief space. She was only stunned, and when she opened her eyes she found herself still in her own room, but with everything still in a confused mass of ruin about her. and Alex. Hall kneeling by her, rubbing her hands and calling her name. “It was not necessary to come over,” she said. *1 am not hurt in the least.” Alex, broke iuto a laugh. “Come over?” he repeated “Jt is you who have come over, Mias Carrie; you made the first call in spite of yourself. And very glad lam to see you, even in this unceremonius manat r “What do you mean?” she asked. “I mean that you came, house and all. and planted yourself right in my dooryard with a thunderous clatter. I thought the whole village had arrived. It is a wonder your neck was not broken, my dear. Are you sure you are not injured?” ho asked with a tender concern. “Do you really mean, Alex, that my house blew over into your yard?” “I mean just that, Carrie. I always thought your cabin rather shaky—mine is twice as substantial —and now you will be obliged to accept my hospitality for the present. Fortunately, 1 have a man and wife stopping with me this week —friends of mine from northern Dakota, whom I am entertaining until they got a house built They have slept soundly through all this blizzard. They are used to the country. But 1 will wake the good woman now, and she will at tend to you. ” The next day Alex, said to her. “Since you unbent sufficiently to call upon me in such an unceremonious manner. Carrie, before I beg your pardon for my old disagreeable meanness, can’t you stoop still further and marry me, now that 1 do most humbly crave your forgiveness? I have always loved you.’’ Os Course Carrie could not refuse. “Ton my soul!” said Uncle Tom, when he had heard the whole story. “It’s better than a magazine yarn! You’re the heroine, Carrie, and Alex, is the hero and I am the sort, of good angel, you know, that fixes up things.” “You and the blizzard,” laughed Carrie. A CARKFUL comparison of Dr. Price's Special Flavoring Extracts with other flavoring extracts in the market, will convince any person that for strength and delicacy of flavor, Dr. Price’s is far superior. While the other flavorings have a disagreeable, turpentiny tasto and odor. Dr. Price’s is as natural as the fruits from which they arc made.

THE DAY S HUMOR. Mr. Quilp (reading a telegraphic headline): “Ten women suddenly killed! llm-m! That helps; some.” “Mr. Ilighwater, how is it I find no cream on y<mv milk?” Milkman—“ Well. mum. I expect the cows are holding it back for strawberry time. ” A penny paper is to be started here to fill a long felt want. Why these wants are made of felt, no one knows, except it prevents their getting warped. Whoof!—Pittsburg ChronicleTelegraph. “Do you believe tliat a woman nowadays would die for tluv-obiecf of her Jove?" asked* a bachelor friend. “1 don't know whether she'd die or not,” answered the Benedick; “but I’ve known her to go wild when the trimming didn't suit her.”—Portland Telegraph. Emily’s Future Safety.—“l understand your Kmilv is engaged to young Ferdinand, the son of Mr. Bullstocka, the wealthy banker,” said their lady visitor. “Not now. She was, but received an offer of marriage from Mr. Rifle Twist, the celebrated pitcher of the Goose-egg Nino, and we persuaded her to break the engagement with Mr. Bnllstocks, as we desired to see her comfortably settled above the possible reach of want.” Tlie Delicacies of the Season. Detroit Times. They tell a story in local and superior court circles of a young married man who called at a stall in the market the other day and said: “How much are your partridges*” “We haven’t any. sir,” replied the butcher. “Then give me three pounds of liver.” A Study in Physics. Boston Globe. A bright miss of three summers was seated beside her father at the dinner table. She was full of mischief, and her father finally said to her: “Dotty, if you don't behave better I shall have to spank you.” The little one remained in deep thought for a few moments aud then answered, with a saucy twinkle iu her eyes: “Oo tant, pa; Ts sittin’ on it. ’ Tlie Fashion in Sunsets. New York Sunday Courier. “What has become of our wonderful crimson sunsets, I wonder?” said Tom. “Why,” replied Laura, thoughtfully, lookiue up from the Bazra, “I suppose they have all gong out of style. Everything is very quiet and elegant this spring. I knew those winter sunsets were too high-colored to last long. They might do for the evening,” she said presently, in a reflective mood, “but they were too loud for the street,” And bending over the description of anew walking suit, she did not see Tom, fallen from his chair, staring wildly at her, and painfully gasping for breath. Banking in tho Metropolis. New York Sun. A tolerably well-known banker, these being troublous times, betook himself, last week, to his brokers and gave them an order to sell stocks short tor his account, explaining that he was aware of a heavy defalcation on the part of the manager of .a bank, which would presently be made public, and. which could not fail to depress the market. Yesterday he called upon his brokers and told them to cover bis shorts and go long of matters generally for him, as the defalcation would not occur. “I w,is myself the hanker,” he explained, “who was to default, but my family has been around, and the thing is fixed up. A Oueslloii of Consanguinity. Detroit Time*. “Mamma,” said a little Woodward-ayenue girl coming in from play one day la.st week,. “1 want to say my prayers and have it done.” Tho mother consented and the little one be gan: “ ‘Our Father which art in heaven*—mam ma. why don't I say *Our Mother which art in heaven?’ ” “Because we have no mother in heaven,* r was the Protestant reply. “But i haw heard of our mother in heaven.’’ “Yes, but that is Christ’s mother, the V irgin Mary." “But isn’t she our mother, too?” “No, my dear.” 1 “Perhaps she is our grandmother?” “No. she isn't our grandmother.” “Well, what relation is she to us, anyhow!” SlMiciMWiH of Boston Culture. Corrspon<Jnt-ft N. Y. Graphic. I was somewhat amused at one of the last Wagner concerts by the conversation of two women who sat in front of me. There was little they did not know. I think they would have been glad to give Mr. Wagner himself a few “points” on various matters. Their self-assur-ance. was amusing, but their assertions reached their height when Herr Scaria stepped upon the platform in that commanding, kingly way we know so well. “Oh, Maria!” said one. grasping tlie other by the arm in ave v convulsion of knowledge; “there’s Wagner, now! I know it is!” “Maria” smiled an “of course,” and the listen: ers smiled an assent. I'm not sure they were the ones, but they might have been the Ones who sat behind me at the grand Combination Opera, ih which Mme. Sembrich, Nilsson and FurschMadi appeared. After they were seated—we all chain'd to l>e early—thoy proceeded to read bits from the libretto, and to chatter on in mild fashion as to what they were to see. “Who wrote this play?” said one. “Shakespeare. 1 think.’' said the other. “Is that so? Well, I'm real glad, for Ido think Shakespeare’ plays are so enervating, don't you? It always does me good to hear one. ”

REUNITED BY THE 11A BY. A Police Court Incident that Recalled Bygone Day* to Sacl Old Women. Philadelphia Record. Katie Andress, a six teen-year-old wife, with a six mouths* okl baby in her arms, charged Spencer 0. Andress, her twenty-year old husband, in the desertion court yesterday, with failing to support her and her baby. •'What is the cause of this trouble?” asked Judge Allison. “It is this, sir,” answered the little wife, tear fully. “He —ho wanted me to go live with his pare Jits, and I—l wouldn’t do it.” “And she wanted mo to go live with her parents,” interposed tho boy husband, “and I wouldn’t do it.” “My dear childien,” said the good judge, “go settle this littlo difference between you, and wherever you live, live together. You love each other too much, I am suro to care, to separate. Be mutually forbearing, and I am sure you will ho happy.” Katie looked at Spencer and Spencer looked at Katie, then both looked at the baby lying smiling in Katie's arms. • Katie,” said Spencer, as ho took the baby up and kissed it. “The judge has a level head. Let us go.” He gave the baby back into her care, but as they were going out the baby turned round and laughed a merry little laugh right in its papa's face. Papa thought that was so funny that ho took hold of tlio baby’s fat and dimpled hands and held them while ho tickled the the baby’s nose with the nice, soft down on his upper lip. The baby’s laugh grew louder and merrier and tho half-score of elder wives and elder mothers waiting in the court room to toll their dismal stories forgot their woes long enough to smile on the refreshing Spectacle, and to dream again the dreams of the bygone years,when faith and hope in them were more powerful than the sting of new wounds. “See how the baby links them together,’’said apparently the eldest and the sad dost lookiug of these. “Oh. my! oh, my! tho dear littlo baby! May tho bond never be broken.! * Mortgaged His Head. London Lancet. A curious dispute between an eminent medical professor and the relatives of a deceased gentleman is now being carried on in Russia. It appears that the late lamented, some time prior to his death, finding himself in impecunious cir cumstances, entered into a compact with a modi cal man. The terni9 of the agreement were that the doctor, upon paying a certain sum of money to the friends of the defunct, should obtain sole possession of tho skull of the latter. The in strument was drawn up in legal form and duly attested. Fortune, however, subsequently smiled upou tho quondam pauper; ho became wealthy, and thus tlie necessity which prompted him to Ills singular bargain no longer existed. In process of time he was gathered to his fathers, whereupon tho enthusiastic professor

claimed his bond, and deeliurd to •accept monetary compensation on its being refused him. An appeal is to be made to the courts to settle the question of ownership. THE COLD TEA MAN MOt RNETII. He Loses a Very Dear Friend ami Explains His I.oss. Pitdburi Chronicle-Teßgrapli. “Mr. Goshorn, I’m sorry to see yon iu this great affliction.' remarked tho thin man to tho man with the cold tea scheme. “From the bot tom of my heart I am sorry.” Tho cold tea man shook nis head sadly. “Some near relative?” “No.” * ‘Mother-in law?” The cold tea man sadly shook his head again. He was buried in profound grief. On his hat appeared a wide band of black crape, his clothes were dark and of a funeral cut, and the whole appearauce of the cold tea man had a grave yard cast of character. “What.is your misery?" continued the thin man sympathetically. “What great loss have you sustained? Not your character, or you'd not be in such deep mourning. Have you been playing poker and been seduced by a jack pot!” “No. sir. " replied the cold tea man. “Well, what relative have you lost?” “I ain’t lost none,” gloomily responded the mourner. “Who are you wearing crape for, then?” queried tlu> thin man. “Bill,” laconically answered tlie craw wearer. “Bill who?” “Tariff Bill.” “Horizontal Bill?” asked tlie thin man in sur prise. “That’s him." “Was he a frieud of yours?” “The greatest friend J had in the world,” responded the Gold Tea Man dejectedly. “Not only my friend, but the friend of everybody. What does protective tariff do for this country! it ruins it. It has made us a nation of slaves. Work and labor stares you in the face on every hand, and when free American citizens, like you and I, desire to live a life of quiet reflection the crowd yells, ‘Why don't you go to work, yon loafer!’ Had this tariff bill passed there would have been no work, and they couldn't have yelled. That horizontal reduction would have kuoeked tlie everlasting stuffing out of this labor that is ruining the country. What are men constantly breaking down their systems with! A devotion to busi ness. Yes, sir; too close an application to work. The tariff bill would have rectified all that. It would have taken away tlie chance to work and allowed over strained constitutions time to recuperate. I don't believe in work 'cept round about 'lection time. That’s the proper time for au American citizen to take exercise and enough to last him a whole year. Mr. Jarphly, have you twenty-five cents about, your nice clothes?” “ Pears to me the turnip crop wilt be backward tins year.” remarked the thin man, as he sauntered out into tiie street. PATTI’S EARLY COURTSHIP. How the Rumor of Her Betrothal to the Marquis of Caux Became a Fact. From “Fourteen Years with Patti.” There is a story of the Sunday evening meetings at Patti’s house during the winter after she had returned from her Loudon season. From these gatherings Nilsson was seldom absent, and among the most diligent visitors were Gustave Dore. tlie Vicomte Daru, Baron St. Armand and Marquis do Caux. who wore such inseparables that they were called tlie “three-leaved clover.” Addina looked forward to the meeting with the 3larquis with glad excitement. He did not keep us waiting long, but the meeting was also a parting. The Marquis had to go with the Empress Eugenio to Biarritz. and, as he expected. to remain for a considerable period, he .asked permission to write to Adelina and receive intelligence concerning her. This permission was given with the understanding that the correspondence was to pass through my hands, and was to be conducted by the Marquis and myself. I had to report the smallest detail of the happenings to Adelina, and his excellent pen gave us the most piquant discriptions of all that went on at Biarritz. One evening, it was after a performance of “Traviata,” the Marquis remained with u after a few friends had departed from Adelina’s dressing room. As he always repeated conscientiously the town gossip to us. Adelina turned smilingly toward hint and asked: “Weil. Marquis, what is there new: what is Paris talking about!” “The newest thing.” was the answer, “is that we are engaged." I must admit that this answer startled me, and that l looked at Adelina with my curiosity on a tension. Her features seemed enlivened by an inexpressible loveliness. Smilingly she said to the Marquis: “And why not? I hope it would not be un pleasant for you?” At first then joyfully moved, the Marquis was only able to stammer the words: “No, certainly not. I would be tlie happiest of mortals if it Were true!" Blushingly Adelina extended her hand to the Marquis, who was almost beside himself with joy. w hile she said: “I. too. would be happy.” Wihfly the Marquis pressed the proffered hand to his lips, intoxicated with joy. he clasped Adelina in his arms, then hurried away speechless. But Adelina, in a long, warm embrace, whispered the sweet confession to me: “I am very happy.”

A Bird’s Nest Lined with Gold. Philadelphia Times. Close to tho United States mint, on the roof of a place of business across the street, there is a small bird-box, which was formerly occupied about this time of year by a pair of robins, but lately occupied solely and entirely by a pugnacious and tricky English sparrow. This miserly fellow—and the sparrows are all an avaricious set —after driving the robins out, has occupied the box for two seasons without oven so much as a unite. As might be supposed, one who was able to do that is foremost in looking out for himself in other ways. Among the girls, and even among the men in the mint, nearly all of whom bring their dinners with them, this particular sparrow has been long a favorite because of his boldness, and so freely does ho fly in the windows and flit in the back door of the smelting room to pick up crumbs that they jocularly say he is the only one who has the “free run of the. Mint.” A short time ago a boy in the building went where Mr. Sparrow has made his nest, and peeking into the box to see if there were any of the young folks at home, as the boys love to do, he was surprised upon drawing his fingers out to see them sparkling in the bright sunshine. No miner wko strikes an unexpected vein was more excited than that boy as he seized the box and carried the whole thing down stairs, where it was found that the inside was not only flecked with gold dust, but that the accumulations of tho precious metal had formed a sort of a carpet of sparkling, soft, yellow gold, the whole proving a veritable “bonanza.” The sparrow had regularly been carrying off quantities of gold dust in its feathers which it shook out when it made its toilet in the morning. The nest is being assayed. Dangers to the Lacquer Industry. Pull Mull Gazette. The Japanese native papers are crying out at the extinction of tno lacquer industry of the country. Tho tree from which the varnish is obtained is disappearing. Formerly, like the mulberry tree, on which the silk worm feeds, it. was protected by law. Each family of the upper classes was obliged to rear 100 trees, the middle classes 70, and the lower classes 4<>. Since this law fell into desuetude the cultivation of the lacquer tree has rapidly declined. The trees wore cut down without caro and none were planted to replace them, so that they have become exceedingly rare, while the price of lacquer has enormously increased. Similar complaints, too, are heard of the process of disafforestation going on in Japan since the ancient law, which required every one who cut down a tree to plant two in its place, was abolished. Ruin Wrought in the Forest. How depressing it is to see acres of trees cut down in the midst of a noble forest llow sad dening it is also to see that thin spot in the midst of your otherwise abundant hair. Stop it at once by the use of Parker’s Hair Balsam. For actual efficiency this famous article stands at the head of its class. Elegant for the toilet, delicious in odor, and restores tno original color to gray or faded hair. Economical, as a slight, oecasonal application keeps the hair and scalp in perfect order.

BEARDED LADIES. Tlie Treatment, Resorted to to Clem* Off'the Dear Ones’ Faces. St. Louis Republican. “You would hardly credit,"said a doctor, “the large number of lady patients 1 have w hose only ailment is a surplusage of hair upon the face. Os course, this hair removing on my part is only an item of my professional duties, but for all that it is a pretty heavy one. and quite a lucra live one withal. My patients in this line natur ally belong to the better class—that is to say, to those who are most anxious to preserve or ini prove their looks, and who are able to afford tlie necessary expense that such attendance from a regular physician entails. In the case of a lady a visible growth of hair is by no means or mi mental to an otherwise pretty or attractive face, and she is willing, therefore, to test, any oxperi ment that promises to rid her of this unwelcome growth. “Many women devote hours in every week to pulling out those disfiguring hairs with the tweezers, the only result being a very temporary improvement in appearance and the necessity for a continual repetition of this painful op oration. Hair can never be eradicated by de pilitation: in fact, is only strengthened by it, and after pulling springs up again with ever-increas iug coarsoness and darkening of color Almost every woman so trouble! has used some of the depilatory powders with which the market is flooded, but in every instance they have had reason to regret their folly. All these nostrums are injurious to the complexion, and many of them are utterly ruinous to the skin. To an attempt to hide the disfiguring effect cf these depilatories is due much of the paint and pow der that we see upon tin? faces of young women nowadays: and the worst feature is that after they have destroyed their complexions they find that these depilatories have only burned off the surface hair, leaving the roots to sprout out afresh. Electrolysis, on the other hand, although very little more painful than the application of tweezers, Ls invariably succesful in the permanent removal of hair, and leaves no perceptable blemish upon the skin. At tlie outside not more tliau ten per cent, of the roots retain life after a first operation, if properly conducted, and a second application destroys t hese strag glers without fail. “Women of nervous temperament are proba bly a trifle more subject to hirsuties than those of a quieter disposition, but this Ls not sufficiently marked for any rule to be laid down in this mat ter either as to complexion, mental characteristics or habits. To many women, to most indeed, a palpable evidence of beard upon their faces is so annoying that it is apt to affect their spirits, and finally their general health. This fact 1 have repeatedly noticed in the good effect produced. upon the mental and physical condition of my patients by tho eradication of the obnoxious hair. In some cases they merely desire to gratify a fancy, as happened hist week, for instance, when a lady who had a small mole upon her cheek, which she evidently regarded as a beauty-spot, requested me to remove four of seven hairs that were growing from it. but not to touch the other three. 1 suggested that 1 could have the mole itself removed if she wished: but this idea seemed to horrify her so that she actually looked as if she would faint. Asa rule, however, my bearded ladies are anxious to make a clean sweep of it, and submit to tlie necessary pain of the prolonged operation without so much as a whimper. In one case 1 destroyed as many as .*IOO Inure at a sitting (it was a matrimonial urgency ruse), but 1 rarely care to go beyond fifty, as the operation is a severe strain upon tlie eyes. There are a good many ladies who shave regularly, quite a number of them employing barbers, who call upon them at their houses. I had one patient, quite a pretty girl, and no more than twenty years of age. whose beard was stronger than a man's and who was obliged to shave three times a week. 1 eradicated more than three thousand hair-roots from her face and nock, and to-day she lias not a trace of beard.

“The process of removing these incipient beards is very simple. I place my patient in a chair with her back to the wall. On the wall behind I have two isolated wires, and to the end of one of these 1 affix .an instrument, which I need not describe, and a bit of sponge: to tlie other end 1 fasten in a gold needle as line as a thread of baby’s hair. Then I place the sponge instrument in my patient’s left hand take the needle instrument in my right hand and a large magnifying glass in mv left. The head of my patient I press gently back until it rests firmly in the chair: the cliin has to be held as high as possible. I introduce the needle into the follicle by the side of the hair: and as every hair grows at a different angle under tlie skin I feel about gently until I get the proper direction, amt then push it inward till it reaches Die base of the follicle, at which point the root of the hair ends, if this is at all skillfully done the neeille will not prick the dun. nor give the patient the least pain, although the point penetrates the follicle for more than a quarter of an inch. The patient now places her right hand upon the sponge, completing tlie circuit, and a current of electricity passes through the point of the needle, and so burns up the root of the hair. Tin* patient removes her hand from the sponge, and 1 draw out tlm needle. When 1 draw out the hair with the tweezers the patient does not feel it, for the root lias lost its hold and is nothing but au empty sack. Wlven, through overliaste, the electrolytic action is checked before its work is completed, a dwarfed hair may spring up in the place of its more vigorous predecessor, but where care has been tuk on the follicle will never give birth to another hair. The needle carries the negative current, while the positive is located in the sponge, and the only absolutely necessary points required to insure tho success of each puncture are that the needle should be pushed to tlie very bottom of the follicle and then to be moved gently around to enforce contact with every portion of the. root, while a steady, uninterrupted current of electricity is kept up. So long as the patient, keeps her hand on the sponge she feels a sharp, but. not very painful burning sensation where the needle rests, but if l were to withdraw the latter while her hand was still on the sponge.by breaking the current at a negative pole, she would receive au unpleasant shock.” Kicked for tlie Good of tlie Cause. Cleveland Leader. While strolling up Ontario street, yesterday noon, a gentleman was rather startled on arriving nearly opposite an auctioneer’s shop by see ing a man shooting out of the shop door as if he had been struck with a battering rain. Picking himself up, the man rushed back into tho store with tlie apparent purpose of pulverizing the person who had struck him. He had not more than entered the door before out lie came again. He sailed gracefully through the air and struck near the curb. He, was followed by an apparently excited individual, who proceeded to administer some cm phatic touches upon his posterior region with the end of his boot. The frenzied earnestness with which tho participants engaged with one another was very interesting, ami in less time than it takes to tell an immense crowd had gathered inside the shop and out as far as the middle of tho street. The much-kicked man endeavored to get sonic of the crowd to act as witnesses that he had been severely maltreated, but. failing in this, both men. after a great deal of blustering, disappeared within the shop door and were seen no more. In tho meantime the auctioneer had disposed of SSO to SIOO worth of goods to the crowd before they realized that they had been the victims of a dodge to get them there. An Editor’s Fiance. Philadelphia Times. Paul Dana, tho talented young son of ihe editor of the New York Sun. will be married in the fall to the daughter of William Butler Duncan. As the custom is with rich N- w Yorkers, Miss Duncan lias gone abroad with her mother to buy her wedding outfit. She will doubtless compete with Miss Astor for some ot Worths host efforts this summer Miss Duncan is about twenty years of age, and has been a particular belle during the past season. Mr. Dana will doubtless some day succeed his father as editor of the Sun. Am Interesting Statement. London Truth. In New York tlie latest foolish freak is for bald men to paint their heads a? a part of their full dress. At a recent entertainment one individual’s scalp was covered with a carefully painted battle-piece, another with a group of fish and shells, while a third displayed a copy of one of Mr. Vanderbilt’s Meissoniors. Preserve the Teeth. Indorsements from leading authorities. Medical and Dental, claim Ward’s Cream of Chalk the best.

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