Indianapolis Journal, Indianapolis, Marion County, 13 September 1884 — Page 11

¥• Days <a Cans®. O, ye day* of ths year# te tM, flMUng from over the seat How shall I greet ye, stranger guests, And what will ye say to me? 1 mo strain lug my eyes to catch The guttering of your sail; Shall I stay on the shore and natch. Or ecme to ye on the gale? Last year my friend went out to meet Hfs ships from over the main-. But stem waves drove them fee apart. And he came not, bank again. So I ask in helpless waiting, WiH ye bring me bliss or woe? The answer comes, Yield thou and rests For e'en not the years can know. O, ye days of the years to come, From over the refluent seel Te will come with roses laden, The’ ye bring them not to aa So, mystic ship of bittersweet, I wait, tW ye finger yet; Te may bring me team srrd sadness. Bat bring me not regret! —Me Way Darts; September. 1 wonder, love, if then dost yet remember The pole nnoalored Sowers npon the vine; And bew in spring we said in rich September. These flowers will hold red wine. “The eonomer's rose will bloom and die, then after, flown the shadowed stißoess of green leaven, We shall pluek clusters full of joy and laughter— Pble gold, like yellow sheaves. “Or we shall hold together tender faces. And pull large purple grapes wot with cool dews,” Gome with me now and seek these pleasant places. Last we car vintage loss, fWie with me new, we know not if to-morrow Wa shall have lips to Vangh. or eyes tor tears; Or if we’ll cruet the leas of joys, or sorrow. Os happy hopes, or fears. Then love said fondly words, with kisses broken, “f do remembei —now shomtd f forget?” •fudge ye for me whet tender words were spoken, Lee* owning such sweet debt. Bww we cm tiptoe stood to reach o’erbeod The dark and lucent grapes on either side; Judge ye. for me wtiet. teuder weeds lore said Te me. his promised bride! O heart, if t.h<ru forget’st all else, remember Timor, days ra gracious ease and beanty set— The efne-crowned days of beautiful September lfcniii’i shell ne’er forget. Hamer’tt Weakly. After Her Walts. Ah, hat yon mustn’t, my pretty An nett a. For my heart will not, cease to beat for your sake; Tor, ages ago. a lovely coquette Kadeavorcd triy foolish boy's heart to break. 1 was younger then, by five mart, sad years. When I laid my heart at hor royal feet— And her beautiful eyes weie soft with tears, Mmt her answer war low, and tender and sweet. I was wholly hers—she knew it; and so She played with thy heart—us you would, Annette; Am nsed all her arts to compass my woe— Aa you would, to-night, if you oonfd my pot. Dm eight, at a bufl—and She lights burned hrw—- * Tha fairest was she In a dreamy dance; Tha nan etc was soft as tho fallen snow That covered the maddest city m France.

t stood in the shade as shn floated by— The lights burned low—and the music was sweet—s saw him ties her—and heard her cry. Aa she saw him lying dead at her feet. thrri she wae much fairer than ytn*—and knew Hew to torture hearts in ju masterly way. fun are a novice, Annette—and note— Them—do not weep—l love you, I say, —John C. lfcCm.il*. Tile Cmafrer Crushed. He entered the car with an off-haud grace, Aa easy smile, and—a sample case. Two, seat* m one did he lightly whirl, Aero* from a not ill-looking (riri. With a novelette and a cTt- wheel hat; “Alone, by .Jove! T will have a chat , Kre we have gone ten miles,” he said, As he fitted Iras skull cap ere his head. “The girls who. travel in Tenns are Soft .snaps aa a rule—too fresh by far. Just lend them a book—lift, the window sash— No trouble at all to make a mash." He did not know that the maidbu smalt Had been, on the road two year* last) fall; A femato drummer with “grip” immense Ands lot of good, shrewd, common, sense. ****.# This is the time and proper caper. “Miss, will you look, at the morning paper'?” And there on the margin the maiden read. "To do you a favor Frt give my heed,. That I might, reap, in turn, perchance, One gentle woriL—sue kindly glaiws:”' The-engine whist led, the train slewed its At a statims known a the town, of Lynn. The maiden rose with her sweetest mails To. the festive maslier across the aisle, And said, as she straightened hor frills and lacs, “You- may help me off with my sample oaee.” —Hferchoat Traveler.

Love's Messengers. Who* will tell him/ Who will tiwihhhn? Have you voices, merry bfcitri Then l be voice for me. and reach Him With, a thousand pleasing wordis. Sing my secret East and wtot, TUI Hie answer be cantissseiF Bbses. when yaw. see him. coming; Lighfeof heart and strong of Utnb,. Make jjonr lovev-beoa stop humsnihgt. Turn vour blushes round to hUn— Blush, dear flowers, that hj may lftapa How a woman’s heart cap burn! Wind—© wind, you happy, roeerl Oh, that l were half as free!' Leave, vour hooey hot (a and elovea, <do and seek M! low* for meRod., kips and clasp. him, ma** Idm, bam* Ife is i. who. love him q! Captain Vauk, of the Uvarpou) Lina. Be captain of the Era prows w a fellow big and hurly-, Hi* head was like a bullet., and hia hair was brown and curly, Apd he had a horrid fashion of ijetMug up so oarty That he always yawned at dinner. ftte seamanship and caoeagn ha was vary often quoted, Lp| many resolutions by bps passenger* wan* voted; ’fat. perhaps, tho noble captain morn especially was noted For the yarns he spun at dinner Bat who that is Hcufenanttn the B, N„ pray, afraid is Os being reprimanded? For an ooenn captain's trade is Bet ao mush to run his vessel as to anlertaia the ladies And preside with grace at dinner. --Prom "Over the Hammer bee." At Anchor. r. My lore was like a buoyant ship O'er sunny wave* at sea, And in the voyage of my beast She sailed away from me. 11. I fotVrwed in her ftytng wake— The waves grew strong and flerfc I passed hy shoals of circumstance. And quicksands of defeat! m. Bad little winds of coquetry Still kept our Irsee apart.' Till in ary cruise of loro 1 rnsabed The harbor of her heart. William H. Hayae. —The Tomb said to the Hose—“With the dew that o’er thee flows What dost thon, Love's own PhowerC Tbe Rose said to the Tomb—- “ What dost thou with those whose doom Is thy yawning gulf eneh hour?" Tha Rose said—Sombre Grave. _ Heaven's tears, transmuted, gave A perfume sweet and rare. " Tha Tomb said—'Tender flower, Bnah sawl that feeta my power Becomes an angel tsar. —Victor Hugo. All weakness and ill health awe* its origion to as impure state of tbe blood Mid a waaknes of tha urinary and digestive organa. A medicine that win strengthen, these organs, and at the same time purify the blood, will assist-nainra in caring nearly every disease that human flesh and blood is heir to. Hack a remedy la Or. Guysott's Yellow Dock and Sarsaparilla, and, ral though it possesses no catkwrtte or diuretic effect, its use will sooa establish a regular habit of body as well as cure weakness of the kidneys, indicated by urinary sediments, nervousness, etc.

THE FADED LBIF. I earn hardly believe it even now. If there woe one person in the world whom I should hare thought safe from the remotest chance of matrimony, that person was Aunt Hetty—dear, placid, middle-aged Aunt Hetty. And yet I have just seen her drive away from the door hand-in-hand with her handsome husband, and looking as sweet and bonny as any young bride of nineteen, notwithstanding her silver hair. I have lived with Aunt Hetty ever since mother died. When I came to her I was quite a little tot, and now I am six-and-twenty, a yen may imagine it is a good many yean ago. Anntie must have been a young woman then, hut somehow she has always seemed middleaged te me. She waa always so calm and gentle, and did everything in such a quiet, businesslike way, that I regarded her aa a different kind of being from my restless, excitable self I have had my little flirtation now and then, hat Aunt Hetty seemed toe grave, too wise, too good altogether ever Go have been mixed op in anything so frivolous as a love affair. I remember, almost as if it were yesterday, fancying one day, about a yewr ago, that anntie was dressed mors carefully than usual. 1 don’t know what the difference was, only an extra piece of lace or ribbon, or something at that sort, but I said to her for ftim “Why, anntie. dear, how smart you are. One would think von were going to a wedding?” “No, dear, 5 ’ she said. "I am not going to a wedding, but this should have been my own silver-wedding day.” And the dear lips quivdred for a moment and a tear came into the soft gray eyes. “But how was it, then, that you were not married, after all, auntie?” I inquired. '“But perhaps 1 ought not ask. Don’t tell mo if it pains you. ” “No, dear,” she said, “it was a painful story once, hut the pain has gone out of it now. And I think I should like to tell it to you. Perhaps some Say U may save you from- making such a mistako as I did. It is a very simple storyjust a lovers' quarrel, a few nasty words—all said and over in five minutes, but they altered my whole life. Sit here on the hassock at my feet and I will tell you my story. It won’t take long.” I sat down accordingly, and with her hand resting on my shoulder and now and then wandering lovingly over my hair, she began. “It happened when I was only eighteen!— younger than you, Ruth, full of life and spirit—very different from the faded old maid you have always known me. I warn engaged to be married. My lover was four years older than myself; he was a mate of a ship, and a fine, dashing yotmg fellow, named Edward Blake. We had been engaged six months, and were to be married a month later. The day was fixed, and Edward 'had arranged to give up the sea, and take a situation on land. We were as happy as any two young people could possibly he; but, uul ucki ly, just a month before the time fixed for our wedding-day, a picnic was got up by some of our friends, and Edward and I were of the party. There was a handsome yeang fellow there named Perey Sandy*, the son of a neighboring clergyman. He was fresh from college, and full of fun and frolic. I chanced to be placed next to him at luncheon, and, not knowing, as I afterward discovered, that I was engaged, he was especially attentive to me I did not ear* for bis attentions in the least, but I was in high spirits, and only bent en the enjoyment of the moment, and I did not cheek him. as, perhaps, I ought to have done. Presently £ caught sight of Edward's face, and saw ho was looking terribly cross and angry. Foolishly, I thought it rather good fn-n to make him jealous, and on purpose to tease him, I pretended to take all the mors notice of Mr. Sandy a When we finished luncheon the party scattered and strolled about the woods in various directions. I naturally expected, Edward to accompany me, hut he rather rudely, as I thought, held, aloof, and. to punish him 1 paired off with Mr. Handys. When the party got.together again, Edward looked so savage that I thought it better not to provoke him any further. "I shook oft Mr. Sondys, and walking away with Edward, began to. scold him for his unreasonable jealousy. Unfortunately, he was white tot with, anger, and began to reproach me in a way that aroused ray temper toe, for I was quick enough to take offense in those flays, Ruth, though i have learned better sense. He reproached me bitterly—more bitterly, I think, than 1 deserved. He called me a heartless coquette, and I culled him little-minded and told him he had made himself ridiculous. We got hotter and hotter, aad finally he declared that if I did not admit that I had bee* wrong, and promise to behave differently for the future,, all must be aver between u& I did not cure a straw for Mr. Saudvs, and

would fifty times sooner have had Edward with me, but I would have died sooner than have told him so then. So I gave him a bitter answer, and we both grow angrier stilL His iast words, ottered with all tho intensity of passion, ring still in my ears; I can tels you them word for worth 'Hetty, if yon let me go now, understand •fearfy you will never see my face again ’ I did not quite believe him. Perhaps, if I had, I should stiß have let him go. At "any rate I was for too angry to give way then. ‘Go, by all means, if you wish it,' I said, and m another moment he was gone. I had been tearing to pieces in iny passion a tittie spray of hawthorn he had given me earlier in the day. I had pulled off tha leaves one by one, and when he left me the bar® atom was left In my hand, with one leaf only remaining. See, here it is, the last relic of my first and last love. God grant that in your hie my Buth, you may never weep such tears as I have wept over that one faded leat ” Aunt Hetty took from her desk the little pray-er-hook she always carried, a quaint Uttle redoovered book with a gilt clasp, and showed me juet within it a tissue-paper pocket attached to the cover. This she opened and showed me the faded leaf. “This little book,” she said, “was Edward's gift to me; and this old dry leaf is my only relic, of the day we parted is anger in tha wood, never to meet again m this world. ” •‘But did you really part like that, auntie?” I said. “Did you never eee him again?”' “Never. He did not go back to the picnic party, but joined an outward-bound ship the very nejft day, leaving a brief note for my mother, statieg that we had fprtußaiety found out in tim® that we were unsuited to each ether, and had, therefore, by mutual conseut, put an end te our engagement.” “And have yen never heard of him since, auntie?”

“Once or twice, in early years, but only indirectly. He had no relatives in our part of the country. I know that he gave up the sea, and obtained a commission in some Indian regiment When last I heard of him be was a captain; bnt that is many years ago, and I do not kuow whether he is alive or dead. So ends my poor little romance. There ia one thing I should like to ask, Ruth, and that ia partly why I have told you my story. You have seen my relies. They liave been roy greatest treasure in life, and I should like them put in ray coffin, when I die Will you remember this, n\ f deart* I could not answer for tears, but I kissed her hand and she wits content. Two months ago, tired of our humdrnm country life, auntie and I resolved, for once, to visit foreign parts. Accordingly we went to Boulogne and took up our abode in a quiet boarding-house in the Rue des Vieillards. There were a good many visitor* staying in the house, but they were mostly in families, or parties, and we did not amalgamate with them. Our vis-a-vis at table was a talk elderly gentleman of soldierly appearance, who was always spoken of as the Major. He had evidently been a handsome man—indeed he waa handsome still. I think I was ft rat attracted to hum by noticing that hi* French was even far worse than our own. When be restored, ss he occasionally did. to address an order to the white-enpped waitinr maids, in their own language, the difficulties he gat into were dreadful, and he generally ended by gobting rather angry at himself and them. Once, or twice. I ventured, rather timidly, to help him out of a difficulty of this kind, and in this manner a slight acquaintance had sprung up between us. lb had, however, proceeded no farther , than a friendly good-morning, or n remark across the. dinner table. With other visiter* be fraternised even Waa. After breakfast he smoked his cigar wider the tree ia the courtyard. after which he started far a solitary i-*b!e, and did aei reappear till drawer timet So matters steed until the ftrst Sunday evening after our arrival, when we went, s hr duty bound, to the little kiofrilsh church in ns adjoining street, We were ushered into one of the pews appropriated for etrangMA and a rain*to or fwo later the Major was shown into the same

THE JOUKHAI* SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 13, 18&4.

pew, and sat flow* silently beside u*. The service proceeded in the usual course, and was nearly over when toe Major, by an accidental movement of his elbow, knocked down auntie's little red prayer-book, which was ou the sloping ledge tjefore her. He stooped to pick it up, and was about to replace it, but as it came in view in the full glare of the gas light his eye* chanced to fall upon it, and he started as though be had seen a ghost He laid down the beak on the desk before him, hut it seemed to fascinate him. He looked from the book to Aunt Hetty and from Aunt Hetty te the book, as If trying to satisfy himself on some point, but without success. -The sermon came to an end at hut, and the benediction followed; hut I fear the Major had little share in it. He took advantage of the moment when all heads were bowed to do a very unmannerly thing. He slyly put *p his eye-glass, and opening auntie’s prayer book, took a rapid peep at the name inside. It was very quickly done and might have escaped notice, hut I was watching him closely. I could even read the name myself. It was in a bold, manly handwriting. “To Hester; June 28, 18—.” I stared aghast at such an act of impertinence, and glarced at Auat Hettty, to see whether she wexld resist R; but she had probably not noticed the offense, for she made no sign. The congregation began to disperse, and we passed out in our turn, the Major close behind us. We were scarcely fairly to the street when he spoke to auntie. “Madame, I am going to ask you a very singular question; but let me assure you that I have a deep personal interest in asking it Will you tell me how you came by that red prayer book that you use?” I shall never forget auntie's answer, given as quickly as if it were the most 'Common-place matter, though I could tell by the faint-rose-flush on her usually pale cheek how deeply she was moved. “You gave it to me yourself, Major Blake, six and twenty years ago.^ The Major's face was a study. Surprise, delight and incredulity seemed struggling for the mastery. He took off his hat and stood baldhead. I hardly know why, but that one little gesture seemed to tell me better than the meet passionate protestations would have done that the old love had been kept a treasured and sacred thing. And I think, from the faint, sweet smile that gathered round her inoutk as she looked up at him, that the same thought came to auntie. “And you are Hetty,” he said “Yes, I know you now.” “Yon had forgotten the six and twenty years, Major Blake I knew you from ths first ” “And would you really have let me go without a word or a sign?” he asked. “Why not?” she replied. “How could I know you would wish to be reminded of old times?” “Reminded! I have never forgotten. I tried my hardest to forget and eoukln't. Although you preferred another ” “Another! What other?” “Young Sandys. Did you not marry him?” “I have never seen him since.” At this stage of the conversation it struck me that i was decidedly “de trop.” Major Wake had replaced bis hat and went, side by side with auntie, who was walking slowiy homeward. I had hitherto been following behind; but reaching a convenient street corner I let them proceed alone and went off, without beat of drum, for a stroll in an opposite direction. When I reached the boarding-house halt an hour later, I found auntie and the Major sitting in the court yard, under the shade of the great tree. The Major courteously lifted his hat at my approach and said: “Miss Danvers, your aunt and I are very old friends; indeed, many years ago, wo were engaged to be married, but an unfortunate misunderstanding separated us. We have tost many happy years together, but I hope some may still remain to us. I trust we shall have your good wishes. ”

TYPICAL MEN ABOUT TOWN. Young Americans Who Cultivate the Consciousness of Being Wicked. New York Correspondence San Francis*® Argonaut. There is another young man of good family and considerable wealth who flourishes here. He usually belongs to tha Knickerbocker and Union clubs, dresses with a pronounced affectation of everything that is English, wears a single gfass, and is a society man by profession. 1 have such a man in mind. His name seldom gets into the papers, and he never, by any chance, does anything that will bring him before the public. He has served as chairman on the committee of application, of both hi# clubs, and he knows the inside history at every prominent family in New York. His grooms, horses, carriages, and, indeed, everything hut his house, are English, and, as he was educated at Oxford, it is difficult to believe that he to not really an Englishman. He speaks of the Prince of Wales as “the prtoee,*a#if there was only one prince, and he was one of his subjects, and he knows Burke’s “Peerage” by heart. He drives a coach, and refuses ten invitations where he accepts one. He prides himself cm being asked to the most exclusive entertainments, and spends weeks of thought on the six little dinners that he gives every season. He gossips pleasantly with women, reads tha prayer-book, and to detested by every man he knows except his parasites. His success with fashionable women is amply amazing. He is thin and angular. His time to divided up so that he walk* and drives on the avenue at a stated hour every day, and he to altogether what he has always striven to be—a distinguished soeiety man. He never goes be low Twenty-third street There are not more than half a dozen such gorgeous beings to New York. '

Another man who in often met is fhs younger son of a wealthy widow or acarelees father, who is allowed SIO,OOO or $15,00$ for pan money, besides the debts he manages to contract with his tailor and florist This specimen very often gets into the papers, has numerous intrigues with actresses, considers himself iP frightfully wicked specimen of humanity when he succeeds In lugging some woman of the stage off to supper, and cultivates round shoulders and a wearied, exhausted and dissipated expression. He drinks absinthe cocktails, talks continually about women, and passes with the younger members of his set as an awfully bad man, U is not infrequently the case that this youth —there a great many of the kind in New York—imagines himself very much more depraved and wicked than he really is. His father usually knows which way the Wind is blowing, and allows the boy to have his swing. After he has sown his wild oats the young man not infrequently settles down into a solid. good-aature<l and thorough going, business wan. He then affects the blase air of a man who has seen everything in the world, and gives fatherly advice to other young men who are endeavoring to spend largo incomes after the manner which he affected. These youngspeodthriftsare commonly the most agreeable men in the world. Once in a while you will find one who is puffed up at his own importance; but, as a rule, he has the good nature of a high liver.

When Beeeher Blushed. New York Correspondence. How far may a public bnt not official man go with propriety in selling Ha influence? A friend tells me that he heard a question pat to Henry Ward Beecher which made tbe great preacher blush and stamraer. It did not relate to his alleged heterodoxy, nor to any phase of th* oM scandal, and yet it seemed highly embarrassing. It was this: “Mr. Beecher, how 'nrach do you charge for writing a puff to bo weed in adrer thMMfllltsf” “I Dover write anything of that sort that I don’t behove to be the truth,” waa the final inquirer did net continue his impoliteness by further questioning. Be had satisfied him self, however, that Beecher thinks, as he does, that a fee to a minister for advocating an article of commercial sale implies no dishonor, though it had better be kept out of sight. There ore now ia the market five different things bearing unqualified praise over tho signature of the Plymouth paster. Rhbvmatism often readers its victims entirely helpless, and ia such, eases restoration to health and vioor ia like bringing the dead to life. Athlopehero* has proved ids efficacy rathe most stubborn cases od this disease. 1). I* Southard, of Greemmatte, lad., says: “When Bishop Bowman brought me the naedtetna from you I wee nearly hefptoan 1 had grown worse for afa weeks under, an I thought, good treatmeat, until I enuld net Move without great pate and great trouble, amt nearly all the trine had to be helped. I commenced the medwteee at ft A m. Thursday. At ftp. a. went to steep sad slept till ) o’clock. Then woke and went to sleep again radii ft a m I get up and said te my wife: ‘Dear me! took here! lam well!’”

TH* WILY augSEIMHUI BOY. CUttta* CanmlMiom toa fftorteto, Cigar and Wfne Dealers, and Cabmen. New York Ttinm. “Hew niuehP Tha speaker waa a well- known lawyer, who sat with two friends in ton case at Delia on ico's the other evening. “Twenty cents, and you know it just as well MB 1 dt> n answered the district messenger. “Ain’t you overcharging?” asked on* of the party “Wo; we never overcharge regular customers. They know the rates, and if we did they’d report it to tb* company and we’d get bounced. Strangers and countryman and newly married couples we always size up and charge double and treble rates. And then, besides, ‘regulars’ always give* us something. One of them gives me ten cents extra every time; another one. he's a gambler ou Twenty eighth street, gives me according to his luck; sometimes it’s as high as a flprhi” “Then you make money outside of your ••Well, gome of the boys do. And there’s lots of wxys of doing it One way to commissions. We’re sent out regular for cigars, bouquets, cabs, carriage, and liquor. If we’re sent toa certain place we don’t get a commission usually; but if thmr just hand us a dollar bill and *ay, ‘Get me five cigars,'or *OOIOIO a cab,’then we have a show. Ther’s loads of busmens people who give a percentage. On cigars we get froiff 18 cents up; on flowers a good deal more. A swell gets mashed ou a girl or an actress and sends her a bouquet. If he gives up a V. we get a dollar from the florist. “Wines are very good. too. There’s a dealer on Sixth avenue who has wine m plain bottles on ice all the time, and it coeta $2 a bottle, and he’s got all kinds of labels. I get- an order for a ‘botrie of Pommery’ and $4. I run around there and he puts on a ‘Pommery’label, and I make $2. It ain’tsafe though. I tried it once on a young fellow, and the next time I came there he kicked me down stairs and swore Vcl poisoned him. “Then the cabbies are quite square, especially with corpses." “What is a corpse?” "Why, it’s a swell that’s drunk. Hell pay the cabby almost anything he’s asked. The cabby gives us a quarter for an order, wad sometimes whack# up the next day. But the best blokes are mashes Married women and married men who ret mashed never use the postoffice, : bat en ly ee boys. We know ’em the moment we see ’em. They’ll pay almost anything, and , give us an extra besiide. Then we make some I thing on ‘doubling up. ’ ” “What’s that?” “I get a call, and I find it will take twenty minutes. Igo back to the office and report and pay for a ‘shorter.’ I get a second eall in a short while, and on mv way back I attend to the firsh When I come back to the first customer I charge for the whole time, and also get paid afterward hy the second. That way I make the difference between what I paid for the ‘shorter’ aad what I get for the whole thing. Then there’s another kind of double. I get a 'shorter 1 here is Delmonieo's, and then run across into the Brunswick and the Hoffman. Between the two I can catch a second ‘shorter' and do both toI gather. Then, you see. I can charge full time te both, and don't have to put up at the office.” “A telegraph bey hasn’t a very bad time, then?”

“Yes, he doe* Sometimes he's kept on a ‘longer’ for hours On# time I kept going for thirty hours without stopping. Another time and lots of times I'v* had to go through rain and snow where there was no horse car lines until I thought I was almost dead. And then you get licked now and then; I get licked last week. I had a call from a young dude, who gave me two letters to young lilies. The envelopes had the names 00, bni no residence. These he gave me separate. I got to number one and found I’d lost the address of number two. 80 I asked the lady the address, aad shelved her the letter. The next day I met the dude in front of his place, and he said he'd teach pie a tesson to show his letter# to different people, and he gave me ax awful licking with his cane. That’s sort of rough ou a boy, but now and then he has a good time. Once a jealous woman hired mo to spot her husband tor three days He used to ride up and down from his office in a cab, and the cabby was a commission friend of mine. Sol used to get on the box with him and ridehoth ways, The old dame paid me my time, my cab hire for three days, and gave mo a dollar besides. I guess their row is all over, because 1 saw ’em walking together last Sunday just aa loving aa two spoons.” “It isn’t a very moral life,” observed tha towyl .

The bey smiled, flushed M may be a little, and said: “How can we help it l If we're late, or lose time; or take bad money or break a rule, or do anything at all, we’ve get to pay for it. And then there are people to the eewipony who make you divy with ’em or treat ’em. And the waiters in the restaurants and the clerks and porters to the hotels want a rake. I had te pay a waiter to this place $1 lost week fee blok# who wanted a bouquet for a gal. And then yen customers always tell me I'm lyin’ and eteaito. And 1 go to gambling hells, and gin mills, and opium dens, and worse places, and ladies and gentlemen send messages to their families, and give me half to say I toft ’em to a chib, or a cpurch, or a meeting. If a chap give# me a big bill to change or a check to cash, aad it’s hod. the cap pinches me and I’m locked up to jail. If us boys are had, you customers make us so, and that’s all there i# to it. Bub I’v* gab to skip Much obliged, gents, for the note”

THE LANGUAGE OS> ENVELOPES. Observations of a Carrier Who Has Handled Two Million Letters. St. Louis ttloUe-Democrat. I have spoken of the envelopes being shabby, and you wilt want to know what I mean. Well, I’ll tell yen. i have carried in ray time an average of aver 3to letters a day. That would make for a year, of say 3flO working days ftd.ftflft. Bay that 1 have been carrying nineteen years, and that would make very nearly 2,so,ofta kilters that have passed through my hands. Now, a man can’t handle that many tetters without learning something from their outside appearance. When lam sorting out my letters in the carriers’department, I never pick upoaethat I don’t form an opinio® about the person who wrote it. Sometimes lam guided by tha handwriting—but handwriting IS not a safe guide—and sometimes by the shape of the envelope, hat more frequently % its general appearance the way it is addressed and the manner in which the stamp is put on. 1 can always tell a letter written strictly on business by the way it is sealed. Business letters are never securely sealed, unless they contain checks and money. They are ticked in a hurry and thrown into the mail baskets. The stamps are put on crooked, te®. Everything about them indicates haste except the address—the address n a letter written by a good business waa is aiways plain and explicit Anybody can tell 'a love letter. They may be inclosed in the cheapest or the most expensive envelope, and yet I caw see at a glance that they are love letters—or letters written, between newly married people, ft is hard to distinguish these apart. Both are securely sealed, the stamps are stuck on with a perfect nieety, fiiid the address—generally in care of somebody —is written with nervous bands, particularly the names. again, they hare the appearance of haring been wrapped up in tissue-paper before being dropped into the box, The letter asking for a loan, a favor or a situation Is always addressed with humility. If it is to John P. Higginbottom, care of Russel A Pemriwick, it will read, “Mr. John P. Higginbottom, Chief Manager, Messrs. : Russel & Perrfwick, Wholesale Dry Goods Establishment, 17851 Broadway, St. Ijonia, Mo. Personal.’ Tbe very way in which ‘Personal’ is written will tell its story, if the other part of the address is not sufficient. I can ten a begging letter from- the borrowed appearance of the envelope, which is either too large or too small for the note-paper, and has the ‘Return to if not called for' scratched off. Thero is no question about letters between men and their wires—l mean these who have been married long enough te lose an interest in scented envelopes. They are addressed carelessly—from the husband, as if he were glad he had finished it at lasi—from the wife, as if she had perforated a duty and wanted to get' it out of her sight as quick as possible. lin inanity of Aowe Aram Ukoitra Brooklyn Un on. A noteworthy feature of the cholera epidemic in France is the fact that the Jews te Toulon and Marseilles, where ito ravages have bees most severe, have scarcely been affected by tbe plague. This only agrees with the experience of the race, under sintife* ctrenmetances, ill other epidemics, and the highest medical authorities attribute the

remarkable fact to tit* continued obedience of Jews to h* sanitary tows laid down by the Mo saic cede thousands of year* ago. Indeed, an eminent English physician has declared that if these tows were observed by all classes, tho zymotic death-rate would not he an appreciable quantity to oar mortality list. MR. BONNES OR TBOTTINU HORSES. A Request to Exhibit Mauri S. at the Pennsylvania Pale Declined. Turf, Field end Farm. Mr. George H. Stuart, president of the Merchants’ Bank of Phitodeifdtto, at tk* instance of several leading citizens of that city, who ore members of the Pennsylvania State Agricultural Society, has written to Mr. Bonner asking him to permit Maud S. to be exhibited at their fair. Mr. Bonner wrote the following reply, in which he gives some original and interesting views on the trotting horse: Orvrcn or n Ledger, 1 Nsw York, Sept 8. 1884, l My Dear Mr. Stuart—lt would afford me great pleasure to oblige you personally by cointoying with the request es your friends of the Pennsylvania State Agricultural Society to send over Maud S. to be exhibited during the fair, which opens this week, were it not that I hare already sent her t* Charter Oak Park, at Hartford, wherg she is to remain for several weeks under the care of her old trainer and groom, in order to give her the proper preparation, to beat her own unequated record. Mr. Vanderbilt believes and I believe—in fact everyone who knows the mare believe#—that she is capable of doing this, and I have concluded to give her an opportunity to do so. Yon say that during the fair “there will be no trotting or raring of any kind.” Now, I am as much opposed to trotting or raeiug for money as any one. Anything that involves or includes betting, whether it be en the result of a contest between horses or on the result of a contest between candidates for the presdeney, I object to. These have been my life-long convictiona I have always maintained that a gentleman can own and drive a good horse without being obliged to wager money on what the animal can accomplish. But if there is to be no trotting —even when disconnected with betting—at the fair of your State Agricultural Soeiety, I do not see that Maud S. has any business there. She excels ajl other horses, no* in size or weight, or oven in beauty, although she i# a very handsome animal, but in trotting, which it seems your State society exclude# from its exhibitions. Surely there can he nothing wrong in permitting an animal like Maud S. to display her natural power*; so kmg as she is not used for gambling purpose#. I owe put the following question to your friend and mrf friend, Dr. McKosh: “What did the Almighty endow swift trotting horses with extraordinary speed for, if it was wrong to let them indulge in their natural gait? Did He erer make anything for tho use of manes which man is bound to uso a mean specimen when ho can honestly afford to use a good one?” If so. I added, then all you clergymen ought to be confined to broken down, spavined and foundered horses. The great metaphysician, with a srailo replied: “Those are questions for theologians like Dr. Hodge,” the Doctor happening to ho standing by hi* side. Agricultural societies very properly offer premiums, to the farmer who rafees the largest pumpkins, the best turnips and potatoes, the best hogs, the finest eattle, etc. Why may they no* just.properly offer a similar premium —i. e., without exacting an entrance fee, which i* virtually wagerteg money—to farmers who raise the swiftest trotting horses? It is said that the man wh* makes two blades of grass grow whew only one formerly grew is a benefactor of his race. Let me give an illustration in this line: According to the time-table it takes fortyeight minutes for the Sixth-avenue ears to rnn from the Astor House to the Central Park, the end of their route. Now, a breed of trotting horses can be raised and with very little extra expense, toaccompheh that distance in thirty-five minutes, with more ease and less distress to themselves than rfc now takes ordinary horses to do the same distance in forty-eight minute.*. This opinion I expressed one day when he was at my i stable, to that broad-minded gentleman, Mr. i Garrett, the president of the Baltimore & Ohio : railroad, who owns a large number of purslybred Arab horses. He not merely coincided in ! this view, but made the significant remark; “It is easy tor a bird to fiy, but just a* natural for an ox to walk.”

I have bee* thus particular in answering your note because your name has been prominently before the public as chairman of the Christian Coramissioß, and to connection with reforms in ohnreh psalmody, etc. I am also, inr a quiet way, aiming for reform in another direction. It was Dr. Chalmers, I believe, who, in discussing the question of eherch music, said that he did. not see why the devil should have all the best times; and another distinguished clergyman, to referring to the location of churches- and the theaters on prominent streets, with much emphasis objected to the devil having all the heat sites Now, why should either the devil or the gamblers have all the best horses? Isn't there an opportunity for reform here, toe? Regretting my inability, tor the reasons which I have given, to eomply with your polite request, I am, very truly yours, RognuT Bonnes.

Summer la the Arctics. turner's Baser. I ■t i the season advances, every cliff gets noisy with birds—solemn ro'tjes, lively dovekies, and the garrulous myriads of mollemoke gulls, which swarm in the sea. The air ia alive with flights of eider aud spectacled dueks, and on the rocky Islets their nests swarm to such an extent as to allow scarcely foot room for the traveler who may chance to land on these unfrequented spots. Seals are arriving on the coast in great abundance. Whales are “spouting” far out, or leisurely slumbering on the surface of the quiet hays. White whales and narwhals are makipg the sea merry with their gambols, and tne Eskimo-happy at the thought of endless blabber and a sufficiency of food for the present —considers that the future may look to itself. Even the hungry dogs participate In the abundant feast; though, for the most part, being useless during the period when the ice is off the sea and the snow off the ground, these ravenous beasts of burden are confined on solitary islets to look out fe themselvee as best they may. On land, the ravens and hawks, which, with the ptarmigan, form the chief feathered winter residents, are joined Uy numbers ed travelers from more southern lands —birds of passage, which come here to rear their callow young, and disap pear again at the approach of winter. During May and June they may be seen flying across the Atlantic, and any ship making for Spitsbergen or Davis strait at that season of tne year will be sure to be favored frith the visits of snowbuntings and other birds, which alight on the rigging to rest themselves during their long Sight. Butterflies and other insects flit about m considerable abundance, and almost every pool is lull of specimens of the tittle dyticus, or water-beetle, which dart about from side to side among the water-weed stems. The white fax, now in its hrown summer coat, ia barking its “Aka-ha ha’ from tha reek; the quiet glens are full or herds of reindeer, while the polar bear, lord of all tbe land, has come out of Us winter hibernation, and is ranging sea and land alike in search of his prey.

How to Find a l’erton's Name. Let the person whose name A B D H P you wish to know tell you in C C E I B which of these upright col- E F F J 8 umne the first letter of bis 6 G G K 8 name is found. Ifitbefouad I J I L T in bat one column, it it the K K M N V top latter; if it occurs in more M N N N V than one catena, it is found O O O O W by adding the alphabetical Cj It T X X numbers of the top tetter* of S 8 V 8 Y those columns, aad the sura U Y N Y Z will be the tetter sought By WWW taking one letter at a time ia Y % this way, the whole name can be ascertained. For example, tabs the word Jana J U found in two eolums commencing with B and H, which are the second and eighth tetters down tbe alphabet; their sara te ten, and the tenth letter dewa the alphabet is J, the tetter nought The next letter, A, appears in but one column, where it stands at the top. Nte seen m the columns headed B, D and H; these are the second, fourth and eighth letters of the alphabet, wteeh, added, give tbe fourteenth, or N, pad *e on. The are of this table will excite no tittle enriwrity among those unacquainted With the foregoing dpi am* atom. ___ _ ; Seaostnwl dhteraw manifest tbenwel ves in tho spring. Hood’s Sarsaparilla cleanse* the btood, had removes ovary totet of scrofifla.

TUB LUTS KUHBR. Burlington Free Pres#: “I wish my vrift wasn’t s politician,” said Snifking, sadly. “Why?” asked his friend. “Is she a Democrat? 11 “No, she'* a bolter—she won’t lot me to aftet 10:30 at night.” Pittsburg Chronicle: It was the second week of their honeymoon. She Seated aver to th* piatlo, raised the cover, and softly swept her fingers over the keys. Gently, but firmly, he withdrew the hly hand from the ivories, and shotting down the cover, said: “Darling, let this holy time be one of unalloyed happiness." A ClewU* Mint. Philadelphia Call. Blink (an exchange fiend) —“That was rather curious achievement for an editor.” Blank (an editor)—“What wa#?” Blink—“l see by this paper that the editor of m Colorado journal has killed a cinnamon bear weighing 1,200 pounds.” Blank—“ The hear must have come into th* office to look over exchange*." “Very buod; Capital.” Nw York Diet. “I laughed,” h# said to hi* wife, “I laughed until my mouth fairly stretched from ear to ear.” “Yon don’t have tq laugh very elaborately to accomplish that distance,” replied th# lady, with a yawn. “Ha! ha! Very good, my dear, very good; capital. Large mouth, eh?” “No, large ears,” she said, with another yawn. Bad New* from th* States. New York boo. “I have some bad news for yon,” said tha clerk to a Montreal landlord “What is it ?” “Another big bank defalcation in the State#.* “That's not bad news,” said the landlord, with a grin. “But the defaulter has committed suicide. ” “That is bad news,” said tha landlord, with a groan. * - Hard Squinting. Fittebur* Chronicle. “(ton you see anything yet?” anxiously asked Bold B. F. B.' Left Eye of his Right one. “No, not yet. It’s "all dark off towards th* wood#,” replied his Right Eye. “What do you see!” “Why,” anwered his Left Eye, squinting hard, M ’pears to me I see something way off there; just at that rift in the fog.” “What does it look lik#<” “1888” Net Very Strange. New York Son. “In looking over the bank-book.” said the new book-keeper. “I find on a stub the sum of SIO,OOO as having been cheeked out, hot there is no mention of the amount in the bank's and no canceled check. Isn't that rather strange?” “Not very strange,” said the old gentleman. “I believe I have the check in ray pocket. Yea, here it is. My daughter was married recently, and it figured among the wedding presents.” A Own! OrtrL Detroit Free Frees. “Wall,” said the bootblack who sat.next to th* alley, and who had been keeping very quiet for a long time, “my gal to n’t stylish nor handsome, and sha hain’t got small feet and a Grecian nose, but she’s awful good-hearted. ” “How rood?” asked the on® who carried thru* cigar-stubs in his vest pocket. “Well, the other night when I'd been eating onion* and she hadn't, she rubbed Limburg## cheese all over her mouth so aa not to make m* feel embarrassed.’’

He Concluded te Walt. Nw York'Miul and Bx#rm. An old granger stood in th® rain looking at th* elevated road. Me was water soaked. “I soy, mister,” he remarked, “doe® it cost any more to ride to them trains than it does in thee* 'ere koers?” pointing to a street car. “Yes, it eosts five cents more. But if you wait until half pas* four th® far® will then b* the same.” "What, tiro® is it now, mister?” “One o'eloek.” “Well, hy gosh, Fll wait.” What Puzzled Him. New York Son. It is reported that a day or two ago Mr. St ; John went into a Kansas drug store and called for a glass of soda-water. His left eye accidentally twitched as the clerk ! gazed at him inquiringly. The mistaken clerk, i not knowing th® gentleman, gave him a liberal allowance of the nsual Savor demanded on such occasions, and the glass was drained to tha dregs. “My goodness gracious me!” said th# candidate, smacking bis tips, “I don’t *e®' how men can drink liquor when they can get soda-water like that" Trust the Directors. Drake's Travellers’ Magazine. “Look here!'' roared the paying teller, as h* jumped into the cashier’s office and held out • newspaper with his thumb on a paragraph. “Look here! Has this bonk any political influence?” “What's th® matter?” inquired the eashier, ! turning pale. “This paper is urging the annexation es Canada. Now how are you going to stop that?" “Let it atone, ” said the eashier with a reassuring smile, as ho poked another package ad bonds into the tail of his east. “Be faithful and earnest in your attention to yanr duties. Th* bank directors will take core of that annexation scheme. What securities have we to stock on long loans?” In Soak. Atlanta Constitution. “Ma,” suddenly demanded Pinder, “where’s your watch and chain?" . “Your father has it at the store," answered Mrs. Fitz. A sileuc# of a few moments ensued, then Pinder again asked: “Ma, is it ueeessary to wet your watch and chain often?" “No, of eourse not Why?” “Oh, nothing; I just heard pa tell Mr. Plunkett that he'd had your watch and chain in soak three times since you gave it to him, and that he’d bettor go around to the laundry and get it beforw you asked for it* “What did he say then?" snapped the lady. “They didn’t say nothing but grto." answered Pinder, dimly realizing that he’d got his fathe# into a row.

Two Dear Old Friends. Virginia (Nev.) Chronicle. Virginia has helped to build Reno, Carson. Hawthorne, Los Angeles, and several other towns not “down on tha map,” and of course the peculiarities of many exiled Comstock shanties have gone with them. Down in Reno, the other night, * man caught a bug in his bed and recognized it as an old acquaintance that had slept with him In Virginia over twenty years ago. Th* bur, too, knew him at a glance, and rolled over to show a brand on its under tfrell —“64ft South Q street, 18M.“ He and the bedbug have joined fortunes, and will travel with the eircua. The Origin of Fsiblwn. Aft AmStetlf. Fashionable foibles in the dress of the sterner sex are often identified with the accident of circumstance#. Full-bottomed wigs originated In A device to conceal the fact that the Dauphin had cn shoulder higher than the other: Charles VII, having misshapen legs, made long tailed coats the fashion; Henry of Anjou invented long-toed shoes to hide a defect In one of Ms feet, sod tecanee Francis I had hid hair ctrt short, to protect a Wound m Iris fleck, a close crop became the rate throughout tlie world of fashion. All About Pencil Fritters. American (lueeti. Peach fritters are delicious, and are a vrelcofl> morsel so those deluded people who prefer fruit cooked, and who do not really feet as if they have made all that they should of it unless (hey serve it into the form of pies, etc. Still no irtnn need scruple so help himself twice to peach fritters, fOr it is excusable. Make a nice smooth batter of flour riid sweet milt add eggs and salt to your taste. PCM and Cut the peaches in halve* removing the stones.

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