Indianapolis Sentinel, Volume 34, Number 18, Indianapolis, Marion County, 18 January 1885 — Page 11

THE INDIANAPOLIS 1A1LY SENTINEL, SUNDAY MORNING JANUARY 18, 1885

11

Somebody crwli into rnimm' be Just at the break of day, Saugte upc!of and whipr louJ: aomebAiy' conn to ty. Somebody rushcB through thehoue Ter once shut dor; Scatter her plajtrunz'i all ronn J ÜTer the nursery floor: jb on tb fn ad tears her clothe N?er bit cres h Jwin?s on th tt and make mui pies; Who cm sombodj be? Somebody looks with roruih eyes Up throuzh her tangled hair; "Somebody me," h y; "but theo So rn body doesa't care." Detroit Free Press. A lleivrn on lrZArtb. From Col. lugersoU'. Lecture. If there is any heaven on earth, it is where just the right man marries ju9t the right woman, and there is no way to be happy except with perfect liberty. I hate a man who thinks a woman should obey him. I had rather be a slave than be a master. 1 had rather be robbed than be a robber. All that I ak for woman-kind i liberty, and let th man love the woman as she should be loved. As one of the old sacred book

oi the Hindus says: ".Man is strength woman is Deauty, man is courage wornr ... i . ,. ... i I u is inuueiitr, man i ucueiu, jju i woman is wisdom, and where there is one man loving one woman, and one woman loving one man, in that house the very I angeU love to come and sit ami sing. 1 oeueve, men, in peneci ireeaom; l believe in perfect iutice, and where a man love a woman she neyer grows old to him. Through the wrinkles of aee I and through the mask of time be bees .1 a : I r a I . l I l l I

me pwcei maiuea iace inai ne joveo anu i Winter. The rest is cay. .Mounted Upwon. I in thpir crnin-frd nnini.l th litinf.r

And wnere l&e woman really love a man he does not grow gray; he doe not I grow uecrepu, ne ii notoiu, out toner is the fame gallant gentleman forever that won her heart and hand. Ktrenght and Health. ' llleiiu 1 It is quite a common idea that health keeps pace with strength. I know intelligent persons who really think that you may determine the comparative health of a company of men by measuring their arms, that he whow arm measures twelve inches is twice as healthy as he whose arm measures but aix. This strange and thoughtless misapprehensiou has given rise to nearly all the mistakes thus far made in the physical-culture movement. I have a friend who can lift nine hundred pounds, and yet is an habitual ufferer from torpid liver, rheumatism, and low spirits. There are many similar cases. The cartmen of our cities, who are our strongest men, are far from the healthiest class as physicians will testify. On the contrary I have many friends who would stagger under three hundred pounds that are in capital trim. But I need not elaborate a matter so familiar with physicians and other observing I peopie. tesioineau i tne scale-oeam. Suppose two brothers bank-clerks in bad health. They are measured I round the arm. Each marks exactly ten inches. They try the scale-beam. The bar rises at exactly three hundred pounds Willi raCIl. KIU MTK UfailU. UUUU goes to the gymnasium, lifts heavy dumb-bells and kegs of nails until he can put up one hundred and twenty-five nr.nnria And lift nine hundred, and his arm reaches fifteen inches. I

Thomas goea to the mountains, fiabea, edged grammar and a self-cocking arithhunts, spends delightful hours with the metic and skulk down to the school house young ladies and plays cricket. Monday bright and early. Upon measuring his. arm we find it When school calls conceal yourself bescarcely larger than when he left town, hind your book, and whenever vou see while he can't put up sixty pounds nor an opportunity jump into a difficult lift five hundred. But who doubts problem and probe it through and Thomas will return to the counter the through. After you have to all appearbetter man of the two? John should be ance mastered it, turn it upside down

the better man, if strength is the prin cipal or most essential condition of health. WILD HOUSE UP SOUTH. Swift mm the Wind and 8ny as DeerA IXutttlnjc Parly Organised to Ulli the Stallion. Virginia Chronicle.) Ud in Northeastern Wyomine and in Northwestern Nebraska many bands ol :i j i .in fo,i..a nA . flmuia.th. daj, when the country was an unexplored wilderness, a terra incognita to the white men and inhabited only bv the Sioux, the Blackfeet and the Crow Indians. Keen to scent . ... ii... .u .Ä neapproacn ot loes, nee, . lope that may be often seen browsing in securuy ai ineir sme auu tree as luc i .t. winds that sweep their panne home, they have successfully eluded the pursuit of Anwhnt- und escarped the destruction the white man s rifle his melted out tn the buffalo and the came of. the West. One would naturallv think that no anmials that roam the plains would ' be to inimical to the industries of the r. gion thau the fugitive bands of wild horses, and it will surprise many to learn that parties have been organized in Chey. nne for the express purpose of killing i,A.iM ..lünn. Year by year horses are lost fnm the bands in the Territory. Some of them are found; but when mares escape they are lost beyond reclaim, nuen wanaer. mgover tne plains mey uescry a uuu ui horses grating in some distant valley, oi .1 .1 J L...lnfl outline from the summit oi some m . m t i iney approacn me ua.m uuui 4" curiosity, anoirom uiai u t ir ur,,.s to no man. The wild stallions are the guardians of the bands. Always on sen-tin-ldutT. ther cive the alarm when anr foe of their liberty approaches; in a moment the stragglers are rounded in, a fleet focled stallion leads the van, and vritb others at the flanks and the rear, away they go in a thundering charge. Es the cowbov mounted ever so well, no horsa bearing a burden can overtake tha riderless ones, and so it h.n com ehmi t that the herds of wild horses have increased instead of diminished in numbers during the pist few vears. It hss been observed, however, tha' few, if any, colta are to be eeu among tha binds during the Autumn and Winter, and one naturally wonders what lcczsta of the natural and regular increase cf tha horses. The answer i simple. Iu t!3 ecrly Spring and arly Summer ctzjj &nd proftional horse Ii unters go cz.1 rc;u-tcd fox the ex re purpose

of catching the young colts. A band of wild hordes is located. They are watched perhaps for davs. When a favorable opportunity is ottered the men sweep down on them. Uoable to keep pace with the grown horse, easily winded, and not thoroughly alive to danger, the colts soon lag behind; a lariat suddenly hisses throngh the air with unerring aim and the colt is a captive. Taken to some ranch the colt is fed milk for some time. It soon adapts itself to the change in its food and readily becomes a pet, more affectionate and dependent than those of its kind born in captivity. Hence the professional horse-hunters are rather pleased when recruits are made to the wild horses through the escape of domestic ones; and the stallions, which alone prevent the capture of the "wandering horses, become special objects oi kind solicitation on the part of the hunters. . The loss of mares sustained by various horse-breeders has at last become so

large that some measures must be adopted to reclaim them, and also to prevent further loss, if possible. From the horse ranch of the Hon. M. E. Post, situated about fifteen miles northward of the city, nearly two hundred mares have wandered away, and of that number it is thought fully 100 are with the wild horses, uther horse raiders have suflered .. . . nronortional iohsp. and it has rrm bout that an organized etl'urt will x made to exterminate the stallions, for 3nce rid of them the entire bauds mar be rounded up and secured. To that end a Dartv of hunters w scon leave for Northwestern W vom im?. Thev will vu irmed with long-ranged rifles, and will arrv lartro muddIv of foraire. ao that their horses will be well fed during the . will nUrue the wild hamU when ihv ire somewhat weakened by the rigors of Winter. Hiding as close us possible, they w then shoot down the stallions from time to time. By this means it is hoped ;bat by Spring uearly all of the stallions will be killed and the capture of the nares thus made possible. im addition to toe silling of the stal.1 m m ions tne men will, to use a laminar tprm "wnif it " as nrrwirtiiri t it mav itFord. Coyote pelts are wortb nearly $1 in the market, while a Territorial Dounty of $1 60 on each and every pelt nates the value of each about 5- 60. By poisoning coyotes the men will be tble to make the expedition, if not diectly profitable, at least unattended .vith creat expense. Cattlemen espec allv futfer loss bv the depredations f the coyote, an4 any efforts to rid ;he plains of these foes of the ' young :alves will meet with cordial wishes for ucces. Advlee to a Boy. Peck's Sua. You wish to become famous and to be known as Billy, the Terror of Kenosha, or the Boy Avenger. Now this is not practicable outside of books. You have read of boys becoming blood thirsty villains in velvet pants and top bt, jn a marvellously short time, but ,. . , . duplicate those yellow covered fellows bring up in some isolated jail, and initead of yellow pants they are adorned witll ragged overalls with the vitall wom Q ar(mnd in Ionely placej . , j 4 mvtA fall waiting for the maiden to come and fall in love with them, as they do m books, But I have found a way for you to crratifv vour loner-cherished desires. I want vou to arm vourself with a double and make it prove itself. By the time you have ioiiowea tnis up a couple oi monins you wm urgiu w icceive some of the notoriety you crave. and will be looked upon as the Startler, or the Bov Mathematician. By the end of the term you win De pomieu ouw u - "11 V. a - J A. A admiring spectators as the douoie entry wonder of the seventn warn scnooi. You think now that this will satisfy TOu. but it will not. On the contrary it will spur you on to still more difficult I Achievements. An uncontrollable de " u.te m.l Ua teoa wi1l gtandinf? before a hall full of peoI pje with a valedictory in one hand and a cold sweat in the other, trying to carry off the honors of commencement day. I Thui vou co on step oy awrp uuui rieida "01lld iiy -rWognlxa the f. . Win; Rrowll. of to-dav. in the redI "y ' ' . ,f' . , . I headed Professor oi' xoughaeepsie, wno I will be teaching a dead language witu one hand, while he pulls an astronomi cai consienauon w picrcs to pieces with the other, twentv vears from now Of course vou will live longer than vou would if you had become famous as the aasning nicnwayrnan oi yjyuuvmuwoc, but you will die in good time, full of years and gout, and the great dailies - j0Z M .. 6 , pntemrisinff c:-r manufacturer will name a brand 0f dears after vou. and you will be I mourned as the bald-headed philosopher i oi tne nineieenm cfiuurit. mere, iuak iai9 ume A m ÄÄ,hIllf.ieiu Guem-ey in Free Pres. Mv dear, the hone of the world ii in our youth aDj better than all outside mission . . . QWU efll)ft u ht ' 1 ar ' the parlor for the boys, open the piano for them, and make them love sister betfa oneelse in the world, except I 4 3 wn Dear girl, they are worth working for, I and men often tell what their sisters are by their walk in life. A candy pull at borne, historical and geographical games -t home, the latest and best mu?ic, you I now how to keep them by your side, and I tri ve for cood. choice reading and music, (though you must indulge in something funnv tor diversion, .uoramv auu temperance are best taught by the fireside. First, we want good mothers and sisters, then good orotners win oe tne result. Life is too short to put off until tomorrow this work. Oh, be up and doing in this dearest and most precious work while the boys yet love tneir nome. And dress to "mash" your brothers and fathers every day. Put on the pink necktie Robbie love best ; he is a little fellow, but he has taste ai d he is worth "clash-in2."

lovi; in a corn (iL. HuUJelpni l'ot. fyve iu a cottage is ai J to exist no

where but in novels; that, however, it pure uouense. It is one of the misfortunes of our higher state of civilization, our higher education, enlarged lastes, and ao forth, that the path iu life for young men and maidens of the middle ranks of life, to those wiio belong to" the professional classes especially, has become exceeding ly hard. Competition in all the professions, and indeed in business too, has become so keen that it is next to impossible foisa young man to earn eight hundred a year till he is well over thirtv, or a thousand a year till he is past forty. And eight hundred a year means a cottage, or rather a small, pretentious, and yet shabby house, with twelve feet by sixteen of garden in front, and five yards by thirty of dismal iuclosure be hind. To a bachelor, on the other hand, eight hundred a year is wealth. It means comfortable, even elegant rooms, a club subscription, the power of paying visits and mingling freely in the society which he prefers, besides the power of laying by something against the rainy day. If he marries on that income, diguie the truth as he may, all these comforts disappear. His next-door neighbors will be people respectable enough, but incapable of affording him any relief or amusement by their Mjcioty. Books, indeed, and an occasional emcert, may be had, but the club must be abandoned, and with it not only some luxuries, but the companionship of men of his own class, which is, after all, the chief means of enlarging one's knowledge and views of life, and of keeping one from sinking into a slough of petty cares and self-centered thoughts. The man who propo.ses to marry on a small income ought, by way of testing himself, to take dingy rooms in a small house for six months, to accustom him-st-If to crying children, to dine habitually off cold roa.t muttou and lukewarm potatoes, to abjure cabs, theaters and cigars, and then ask himself seriously at the end of the half-year whether he is willing to live tint sort of a life for the sake of the girl he loves. He may be sure of this, that if he is not capable of enduring it while the romance of courtship lasts, he is not likely to enjoy it more in the sober every day light of married life. And, having made trial ot the lite ot a poor man, our intending bridegroom would do well to consider whether the young lady who has charmed him is exactly the sort of a girl to be happy iu the dull life of a third-rate suburb, and the narrow rooms of a cheap house. Can he give up, not necessarily her music, but all the little elegancies which have done so much to make her what she is? Can she give help, not occasional assistance, but regular, effectual aid in the kitchen and the.jiurfery ? Is she ready to fpend her afternoons darning stockings or cutting out children's clothes, instead of going to a tennis court or a picnic? Can she give up not only her accustomed style of dressing, but her friends? for she will find it practically impossible to keep up acquaintanceship with those whose ways of HviDg are totally different from her own? And yet, in spite of all, nature is stronger than prudence; love laughs at poverty as he laugh at locksmiths. All the wisdom in the world will not hinder the human heart from loving the loveable, and when love fills the heart it will find expression somehow. If the love is returned the eni is certain, and love in a cottage is the inevitable result. There can be no doubt that if the hard fight with poverty and with the personal deterioration which poverty too often brings in its train can be successfully maintained, a speedy marriage is better than a long engagement. Nothing in a prosperous existence can give the sweet sense of comradeship, of trust in each other, which they who have weathered the storm can enjoy. The harder the fight the closer will true hearts be drawn together. The love that flies out at the window at the wolfs snarl must have been but a weakling from the first. All we contend for is, that young people ought not to pluuge into a life of comparative poverty without fully realizing what it means, and, if possible, gaining some insight into the life which they propose to enter. They can then judge whether their love and their courage nre equal to the task demanded of them. ONE WELL lOll TWO FAMILIEN. F. E. Huddle, in Sew York Mercury. 1 Oce well never was large enough to furnish water for two or three families. 1 rent my palatial dwelling-place from a man who owns two houses oue on eithei aide of that in which I live. In my back yard there is a well, and in each of the other back yaids a cistern U located, aud when we three families moved into our respective places of abode it was clearly understood and so nomin. a ted in the bond that all should have access to and water from the well, and that the central figure in the group (meaning myself) should be permitted to draw upon the hoarded treasures of either cistern at his own sweet will. On Monday of the second week after we began to utilize our building, my wife intimated to me that she would appreciate having a few pails of washing water from one of the cisterns. When iny wife intimates anything to me, I always feel the promptings of love in my heart aud promptly accede to her wishes. I did so on this occasion, and went to the cistern to westward of us. -I pumpe 1 up one pail of water and took it to my waiting spouse, but wheu I attempted to draw another, the woman who seemed tobe running that cistern came out and a-ked me if I did not think it would be more polite she bore down on "polite" pretty hard to get some water from the other cistern. I told her that I was a plain,, blunt fellow, who did not tand on eti?uette very much, and if it made no difference to her I'd get the water where my wife dum pleased. She replied that her cistern was very low, but I told her I was not a bit stuck up particularly about the rank in society of cisternt with which I

might have to associate, and she said somethiog about my not being able to take a hint, when I replied that I could take more hints in a minute than she could give me in an hour, aud proceeded to transfer the water from the cistern to the wash-tub. When I returned for a third pailful, the crank of the chain-pump was gone, k I visited the cistern of my other neighbor, who smiled as if to welcome me, as I entered her gate, and remarked that the weather was quite dry. I agreed with her, and was eugaged in wetting a pailful of weather, when she proceeded to say that cistern water would be an object one of these days. 1 said I supposed so and having emptied my pail came for more. "Don't you hate a hog?'' she inquired. I admitted that I was not very deeply in love with the present tenement of the devil, wheu she said something about two-legged hogs that I could not help regarding as personal. I filled my pail and gracefully strolled to the back door of the kitchen, where my wife stood, and informed her of the crisis that hovered over us. Sooner than I can tell it, the round end of a discarded table- leg was thrust into the spout of the pump at the well, and I was invited to saw it off, which I did. When I returned at noon, from my office, I found my family thirsty, and then I saw for the first time that I had revenged upon all parties concerned, including myself. It cost me a dollar to get the table-leg bored out of the spout, and my wife has to have some bangs and back hair, and the other women have had to purchase new dresses, and court-plaster and arnica have to be bought for the children every day, and eacb of my neighbors has a padlock on the wheel of his cistern pump, while T pay a negro two dollars a day to guard the well with a double-barreled shotgun, and don't speak to the people that live on either niiif of us. Oh, no I one well for three fa rallies is very amusing, but it is expenivie, too. How the Clergy Are llauitk-d. I Ho? tou Herald. There are many laymen who act as if they owned the denomination to which they belong, and plainly intimate that the free giving of money for religious purposes entitles them to have their own way in regard to tbo miuister; but it is going a little too far when they imply by their actions that, because they hielp pay a minister's salary, they have a right to control his political or personal convictions. There is much said in favor of the independence of the clergy, but the "instance's now brought forward here and there show that great pressure is brought to bear upon the clergy to think and vote and preach, not as they believe that they ought to, but as they imagine the rich and influential persons iu their congregations would like to have them. This pressure is very real to a body of professional men who are peculiarly dependent upon the suffrages of others for their -rsoiial support, and whose manly independence of .personal alliances iu the shsipe of attempts to make them conform to a depraved public sentiment is worth everything iu the communities where their influence is mainly felt. The cutting down of salaries, the rebuke of self-sufficient committees, the

alienation of sell conceited church mein-9 t .1 l.. .i. . i 1 uers, im iierpiy iiuo tue sensitive minus aud hearts of preachers of the gospel, and make the less consecrated among them think more of the loaves and fishes fi than of their responsibility for teaching what is made known to them a? the truth. Voluntary churches are always open to ihU unwholesome and unfair dictation from the pews, and one reason why our clergy, as a class, fail to impress themselves upon the community as strong men is that they fear the weakening of the men who are pledged to pay their salaries. Nothing is more needed in American society than clergy who stand up fearlessly for what is right and just in politics, morals aud religion. They are our moral and religious leaders, and are exacted to give tone to the whole community. Just so long as the lay people act as if they were so much propertv to be cuffed and kicked and bandied about as cattle owned by masters, the tone of many clergymen will be impaired, and the higher influence of this class of professional men, the hast able to justify to themselves, will be seriously diminished. They are not the best of leaders when they are browbeaten by their congregations. Suspended Animation. It is an event in a man's life to stand on the platform of one of the grip cars that crosses Brooklyn Bridge. The experience is all the more pleasurable because passengers are positively forbidden to stand there, and the conductors cannot be bribed for any reasonable sum, as is the case iu some countries It requires considerable diplomacy to remain there and not get peremptorily ordered inside. The car has neither horses nor engine. A wire rope pulls it along. At first you go between walls with the rattle of vehicles on one side, and high above you on the other foot passengers. When the car gets on the bridge proper you can see through between the ties the blue water apparently a mile below. As I went over the car passed above the slender tip of the tallest mast of a great ocean ship. It was like standing on your head iu space. You could look down that mast from the top to the flat deck, and all the cordage seemed set iu the most fantastic way. The men on deck were represented by hats apparently moving round of ' their own volition. Then we ran over a big steamer and looked down its funnels. Next a "Please step inside, sir. Nobody is allowed to stand on the platform." Novel Way of Roasting Meat. . . American Antiquarian. The Mandan Indians have a peculiar way of roasting meat; the roast is suspended from the roof of the hut exactly over the fire the cord being passed through and fastened to the center of the piece keeps it iu a flat position directly over the flames. A person is seated near it, and with a small stick keeps it continually in motion by pushing it to and fro. When one side is done, it i turned over, and fit for use. This method is much more expedious than the common way of roasting before the fire, and is preferable, as it retains the natural juice and flavor.

HOUSE CHKSTNCT BLOOMS.

Beneath the dancing ehoJow of a wide epreadiug horse-chestnut tree stood a child-woman, tall and fair. Lovingly the old tree sprinkled its white snow of blooms over and around her, and the summer air was fragrant with flower incense. So thought Bertha Figlia, as she strained her pretty throat in vain efloit to echo the sparkling cascade of melody with which a provoking lark challenged and mocked her. "Ah, yes! You may look at me sideways if you like you know I oan't do it; and although you perk your head so innocently, every feather on your little anatomy is rurhVd with exultation," said the girl. Silence fell. ' 4 Only the rustling of leaves and the distant lowing of cattle gave far communion with the struggling sigh that escaped envious Bertha's lips. "I will go home," she said, "and drown my ambition in wells of whey. I w.ill put my hope beneath the churn-dash, and time my voice to calling stray pigs. 'Tis useless to think of anything else, when even a little meadow-lark cau set my heart throbbing with euvy. Bah! I'll go home, and keep on cutting bread and butter!" She turned hastily away, but a chiding root of the sheltering tree caught one of her uiiwilling . feet, atd she fell forward directly into the arms of a gentleman, who, very properly, very naturally and very gracefully accepter the situatiou. "Oh oh! Excuse me, sir. I did no know that any one was near my foot caught in that root," stammered Bertha, apologetically. 'Yes, I see it did. I was fortunate to have saved you from an unpleasant f ill. Chance is sometimes very gracious. I was at that nusment trying to invent some apology by which, to make my preseuce known. The music attracted me from the highway, and really I could not tear myself from the spot." Thus, with easy grace, the gentleman accounted for his opportune appearance; and blushing Bertha went iu search of the straying cows a half hour after, less impatient with her own vocal powers, and weaving into her maiden dreams the warp aud woof of the flattering words aud manly beauty of the darkeyed stranger. Weeks fled, and somehow, as Bertha passed to and fro from the pastures, at first by chance, at length by design, she often met her accidental acquaintance beneath the overarching branches of the giant horse chestnut. Sitting one day, with her bared white foot idly patting the laving riplets. of a cowslip-bordeied creek, her great gray eyes gazing musingly up at the shifting pink-lined clouds, she thought over all that the stranger had told her of the world lying beyond the long meadows of the fortune lying in her wondrous voice, in the curves of her rounded limbs, in the witchery of her flowerface, in the waving glory of her yellow hairof admiring " and applauding thousands of golden luxury and silk attire of books, music and the power of song. It was to this btst that her soul responded. To sing to do nothing but sing. To give expressions to all the musical raptures that swelled within, and hold mankind under the spell of her magic voice. To" live in an atmosphere where music was the be-all and end-all of existence. Ah! this seemed to her artistic soul Elysium. The die was cast she must go. The tide of an uuitUfiVd longing flooded her whole being with enthusiasm, and even the heart-throb that went out to her tender, over-worked mother gave only a momentary tug at the fixedness of her purpose. "I will come back to her," she said, as she twinkled a shower of pearly drops from oft" the tips of her pink toes. "I will come back to her wheu'Iamrich and famous. -She will forget the pain I gave her, and be proud even of my waywardness. I will love her so that she shall forget the pain!" A round harvest moon hung full aud clear in the heavens, and the earth slept wrapped in the sheeted pallors of its pure beams. Bertha Figlia looked a piteous goodbye upon the sleeping mother-face she dared not risk impressing with a parting kiss and passed out into the humid night. A sigh of satisfaction and relief escaped from the lips of him who waited there in the gloom as the flying figure, now clearly defined in a patch of mellow light thiough the night and halted at his side. , "I am come," breathed she. "Will you keep your yromise?" "Faithfully. "By the heavens above " began the man. "Swear not at all," gravely interrupted Bertha. "To gratify my ambition, to cultivate tho power God has given me, I have stolen away from the mother who has loved and cherished me, like a guilty thing. I have only your word on which to pin my faith. If the truth be on your lips, when I have won the fame I covet, 1 shall bless you as the genius of my success; but, if you deal traitorously with . me, then the curse of a mother's broken heart will follow vou into eternity." "Words are idle. Let the wquel prove whether 1 am a man or a villain. Come! The train is due at the Junction in twenty miuutes. We can talk at length on this matter when the ironhorse is bearing us on towards the scene of your future triumphs." One by one the months glided into years, and repeated them -elves, and a fair, pale girl counted them as one step nearer the crowning of her hopes. Her whole soul was absorbed in the art to which she h.id consecrated her young life. She studied and sung as other people breathe. Her character was harmony itself. She wept in time and sung in concord. The musical element was developing in her grandly, but at the seeming expense of every other sentiment.

In the last year of her probation the story of that wonderful soprano voice was told, and the most celebrated masters and critics traveled to hear and judge of her powers. Some went away rejoicing, as. only a musician can rejeice, over the perfection of vocalization; others, with envy and chagrin, closed their ears to the merits of ih hopeless a rival. And still she toiled on, never satisfied with herself never relaxing one iota of the wearisome drill until the grand hour of triumph came, and La Seal a rang with the plaudits of an enthusiastic audience. She had literally to tread a path of flowers in retiring from the stage, and as a single spray of feathery horse chest nnt blossoms fluttered down like a white dove and caught in th? feathery laces above her throbbing bosom, she raised it care?incly to her lis. then with an indescribable grace crried it to her heart, and with one swift glance towards the manager's box she vauished in ihe wings. "Shall I have my ieward, or did the familiar blooms stir up old memorifs. and thoughts of her mother force fondness into her eye?" mentally asked the man, as he turned away from the scene of his protegee's successful debut, yet only half-satisfied. American iuterest and curiosity were on the qui vive. Flaming posters ai.u the press enthusiastically annouueed the opening night of Bertolaeci the new prima donna, iu New York. Foreign bulletins were widely copied, the fiat of the mighty few had gone forth, aud expectation was running high in anticipation of the moment when the cantatrice should make her first low to an audience of her country-people. While the printer's ink was drying, soeiety discussing what it should wear, and the chorus rehearsing, a man and a woman stood beneath a horse-chestnut tree whose autumn livery of gold and crimson drifted helplessly in the Mjft Indian summer breeze. "I have been true, Bertha. You are famous. I have given you back to your mother stainless as you were the August nicht you left here. I have waited long and patiently now rosy I claim my reward?" asked he. "I am yours, maestro. Through you I am what I am. Take thine own. Would that it were a worthier offering!" "My queen! My singing-bird! I ask no more of Fate. Beneath these shades I wooed thee; beneath these shades I won thee, and beneath these shades I will wed thee." "Yes, but not until I have finished my engagement for the seasen. I must make the triumphal tour, as you call it." "I am impatient of delays, my sweet; but vour will must henceforth be my law." So it was finally arranged that they were to be married when the breath of spring had covered their trystiug-tree with feathery garlands of bridal white. They traveled from city to city, adding leaf by leaf to her laurel wreath! He who had learned to love her 0 well would sometimes hold her white hands fast, as he listened to her voice soaring and vibrating with more than natural brilliancy and watched the rosy color fade from her face, leaving it pale and transparent as an agate. After a little, the rendering of a few bars would fetch out a bright red spot on either cheek that struck a cold fear to the lover's heart. He pleaded that she should rest. "When we are married," she would answer him, with one of her rare, kindling smiles. One night, as the whole audience sat breathlessly entranced by the matchless sweetness of her liquid voice, the end then came. Like a star suddenly gone out into eternal space, she disappeared. The silver bowl was broken, the golden cord loosened. Bury me where first we met," she whispered ere uhe died; and now the waving bows fan gentle breezes, Nature murmurs a soft lullaby, the little birds sing sad requiems above her ashes, and a

lonely man wanders restlessly over the face of the ert h. Let the l'minter Read and Reflect. Persian Me.liatyr 1X) H. C When a young man finds that he has given expression to a pun he should take a piece of assafcetida about as big as a hiskory nut and chew it. He would not feel like making auother pun as long as the taste of the drug remains in his mouth. He should, carry some of the drug in his vest pocket when he goes out in company, and keep a piece iu his mouth constantly. It may be offensive to the company, but it will not be half so offensive as his old back-number, teethworn puns, and he will become a favorite. If this course will not cure him he had better go and drown himself. There is no such thing as a new pun, as everv word that is susceptible of a pun has been punned for thousands of years, so when you hear a person make a pun you can be sure that it is a thousand years old. If a man or woman when making a pun on a word realized that the Egyptian mummy in the museum when alive had made the same pun and laughed at it boisterously, he would be ashamed of his own attempt. The Persian lan guage is good enoueh if vou take it straight, and it is loolish to torture it. As good a way as any to squelch a punster is to listen to his pun, look thoughtfully and say "Before the Flood." or "Credit to Adam." Young men who get in the habit of making puns on all occasions lose their positions.girls go back on them and they go through life alone, except in rare instances. A girl hates to lace the prospect of a lifetime of poor puns, and will think twice before marrying a punster, as he is liable to practise his puns on bis wife. Iii Last fhance (Jone. Texa Fiftings. There was a fracas near the Post Office, in Galvestion. One man was supposed to be dead, but on being moved he groned audiblv. On the parties present. Ed. Huffman. - claimed, "Sonipodies run for a doctor. Dot ooor devil vash not quite dead yet." Something; Dry About the Play. (Philadelphia Call. There was not a dry eye in the audia m tw v mm snce, remarked Mr. üiiltms, referring to the play he had seen the night before. "No." added Mrs. Hhmins, whn hd ac companied him, "but I noticed between the acts that a good many throats teemed to be dry,"

a Nicnr or suspense. Among the "reminbeecces" of an "old Bohemian" is one which refers to a sleepless night passed by him on one oc casion at a little wayside hostelry, lying

a short distance back from the main road h ading to Freiberg. He was hungry and weary with a long day's travel, and in spite of the most 1 earnest entreaties on the part of his faithfulold servant Joseph who declared 1 from his knowledge ot the Bohemian character that they would both most as- ' suredly be murdered in their sleep if they rested there he determined to apply at once for such shelter and ac. commodation as the place would affjrd. The host, a full-blooded Czech.appeared at the door, and, in answer to their in. inquiries, assured them that nothing should bo wanting to their comfort. He had ample room, and a goodly store of provisions, and the servant was accordingly ordered to unyoke. Nothing, how- ' ever, would induce the latter to sleep away from the horses he would save : them at any cost. Giving free vent to his fears, and the dreadful forebodings of evil which j weighed upon him, he succeeded, before retiring for the night, in filling the mind , of his master with some of his own ap- : prehensions, and with so much effect that the latter found it at east impossible to sleep. i After some hours of watching and suspense, be dropped at length into an uneasy slumber, which, short as it seemed, was disturbed by the most frightful and harassing dreams. Suddenly a fit of coughing aroused ; him, and be fancied he heard a gentle creaking noise outside his door. He started up in bed, and listened intently. The stealthy tread of retreating footsteps along the narrow passage, was distinctly audible. ' He sprang from the bed, crept as ' noiselessly as possible to the door, and cautiously opening it, peered out into the gloom. At the further end of the passage a i dark figure was just ob8ervab!e makirjg its way silently through an entrance at the back into the courtyard which led to the stable. The thought that poor Joseph was about jo be murdered by their treacherous host for it was undoubtedly he filled the master with horror and alarm. Forgetting to take either pistol or dagger, he rushed immediately at full speed along the passage, and out into the yard, intent on seeking to save, at all hazards, the life of his servant. There was the murderer, snre enough, just entering the door which he silently opened. ! Would the master be in time? He fol- j lowed as cautiously and rapidly as posii- ! ble, and on approaching more closely saw the murderous villian crouchiDg, tiger-like, as if preparing to spring upon . his victim. As quick as- thought, the master threw himself forward und clutched the intending murderer firmly by the throat. I At the same moment he felt an iron grip upon his own. It became at once a struggle for life or death, aud the master strove hard to make his own grasp the tighter. He dared not shout, for no breath could be spared for the purpose. The deadly pressure of bis fingers, however, wrung out a groaniDg cry from the other, striving in vain to wriggle from his grasp, and to his intense surprise and relief, he discovered in them the muffled accents of poor Jo?eph himself. The latter, unable to sleep, had been , impelled, by his ever-increasing fears for master's safety, to make way to the room where he slept, and had endeavored to return as quietly as possible to the stable when he had assured himself that every- i thing was still all right. ' An intercharge of explanations followed, and the suspense and anxiety of the night thus came to an end. The host. of whom po much evil was suspected, , turned out, on further acquaintance, to be one of the most honest aud worthy men that bad ever lived. A Church Aovelfy. The great cathedral of Notre Dame in J Montreal reminds me more than any- j thing I have seen on this continent of ! the big "churches in Europe. Its two massive towers are landmarks in whatever part of the city you are. As you ascend the broad stone steps and enter the iron fence that barricades the front, a French-Cauadian approaches from the right-hand tower. "Tak de eelevator, Monsieur?" Think of taking an elevator in a church! "Wrhere does it go?" I asked. "Ah, he go up to de steeple; 'way up, ver' high." "D.?s it go to the top of the tower?" "Ah, non, Monsieur. It cannot go pass de bell, you know. It is de largess bell in de worl'." "That's the reason the elevator is afraid to pass it, eh?" The Frenchman shrugged his shoulders, exhibited the palms of his hands and smiled. "Only dwenty-fiV cents, Monsieur," he said, keeping to the main point. "De view Is superb. Grand view. Everybody go up." "That's what a church is for, I suppose. It teaches us how to ascend. If you could complete the road right through it would be a great thing for u sinners." I found when I got to the bell that it was only half way up, still it is worth a quarter to ride in an elevator in a church. Tonntry - College. George Alfred Towosend. You get your boy from some fresh and open country, where the pecple are kind to each other, where family life is sweet, where poverty in a moderate degree has brought the family together in their wants and needs, and he will enter a large city or a wider field of reporting with health, cheerfulness, and growth, i But if yoti take your editor out of some j old part of the country, where he has been to college, and leaves it satisfied that be is coming into the press to show them a very great and pure man, you will probably find a fool who does do good to his time, who is afraid to bo enthusiastic iu the bft cause, who is a small-potato critic.nnd especially disgusted with' the movement of his own country.