Indianapolis Sentinel, Volume 34, Number 32, Indianapolis, Marion County, 1 February 1885 — Page 12

12

THE INDIANAPOLIS DAILY 8ENTINEL, SUNDAY MORNING, FEBYUARY 1 1885

A DC Alt ftTORT.

" aow new bear stcry." I saia to the Utile loin, Who, surely as the twilight falls. Btln to mh and ckm-x. "And did they lire in the forest, in a den all 3e?t and dark? S wtTe,b threw?" -'Yes. three," I raid; uiey uyea in the perk. Let's see! Old Jack, the ctIzxIt. Ara a oother betr. TTith thici brown ccat ww anwat white claws, was Uiare: And Betty, the little bear. I - "Ana silver Locki went itrolllcr One day In teat pretty wood, with Ninny, the navae. and all at once They came where the txarV honse stood. "And without so much aa knocking To see who was at home. Ehe cried out In a happy voice, Old Grizzly, hereliocer And Hereupon, old Grizzly gn to gaze about. Am the mother tar sniffed at the ban. Amx tha baby bear peeped oat, 'And they troaht the mut be a fairy, 1 hough Instead of a golden wand, 8ho carried a Ofe-cent paper tag Of ptanuta la her hand. M01d Grizzly his red mouth opened. As thoarh thev tasted eood : And the i rown bar opened her red month To catch ooe wbea she could. "And Betty the s reedy baby. Followed the big War's style. And held ber Mule fire-red month Wide open all the while. "And Silver Locks laughed, delighted. And thought it wooiroua Ion, And fed them peanut from the bag. Till she hadn't another one." "And is that allT" sighed Gold Locks; -'ftbawl Is that all?" cried Ted. "No-one thlrf more! 'lis Quite, time That you were all In bed 1" bELEXOttE. quite (Belle C Greene, In the Contlnent.1 8he came to onr door one dreary Novem br day In apourirg rain, and begged In broken Eogllah that we would take her into oar service. fine belonged to a miserable French Cai ... v., i i vJ. , uiauj years; out, suuueaa aau uegraucu as they were, it it waa evident, from the young irPi account, that they considered ber the , , , , ,n black sheep among them; and ber mother, always narsn witnner, iorsome reason naa recent! frown more so. until that mornine After an nnnsnallv crnel be atlne. Helenore- , - ' abe said her name was Helenore JJaldeau bad fled from under her hand, and shaking off the duatof her native alley, wandered, abe neither knew' nor cared whither, till I. . I 4t - I.J V-.- 4 - W . .V.U.. iiuukm auu uuKue ku u iu bcc. n suetic. W11Ü US. Her plain and somewhat heavy race was swollen and red witn weeping, ana there WtJ A 100k Of pleading in her great soft black eyea mat waa aimcuu w resist.. jii nti l . . : I Oh. II you would but try mel" sne said. 1 can ao a gooa many imngs: ana i care only for some bread to eat and place to albep, and," with a shudder, "to be hurt no more." I held the door open and looked at her with compassion stirring my heart. Poor child? She seemed so young and yet bo fororn, standing there In her dripping garments. 8he could not bave been more than fifteen or sixteen years old, and she looked up into my face with an expression of gentle conn dance that I felt it would be cruel to wholly disappoint. And then she asked ao little "only a place to sleep and oread to eat and to be hurt no more," The tears came to my eyes as her simple words recurred to me, and yielding to a sud den impulse I took her in, fed ber and made ber as comfortable aa po. Bible; meanwhile turning it over and over in my mind what I should do with ber. At dinner-time I held a consultation with Jack, the nominal head of our family, I sty nominal advisedly, for he insists that I defer to men only as a matter of form, after having fully determined in my own mind upon any oourse of action. Be this as it may, be generally confirms my decisions, thus making assurance doubly sure; so this time fter looking over mj 'yery latest," aa he called her, he promised to go to 'ber mother and negotiate, if be could, for Helenore s services. As a result of that interview he found out lor a certainty tha; Madame uairfeaa was a horrible old vixen; bat she readily agreed to let her daughter re mala in oar employ if, after a suitable trial, we ao desired. When Jack caoie home at night he found na altogetüer in the sitting room. I was tewing and Helenore was sitting near me playing with little Ned, our three-year-old ooy. Well, Helenore," said be lightly. "I bays seen y oar mother, and yoa can stay with ns if yoa are a good g rL" She tarued toward bim with a look of unntarable gratitude and tried in vain to speak ; then, wilü one swift movement, she threw herself at my feet, and fastened her great eyes upon mine with an expression I shall never forget, she made the sign ot the cross upon ber forehead and breast. We saw her do this ailerwards on several occasions when deepiy moved, and it waa as xpreaaive and touching as characteristic We soon became much attached to ber. and her odd, wild ways furnished us no lit tie amusement. One of her favorite pastimes was to sit with baby in the back door and tlav on ber "xnu'ic." as she called it. This was an invention of Heienore's own, and was only one of her many grotesque but po etic fancies. It was only a large sheet of thick, stout paper, rolled up into a huge trumpet shape; and on this queer instrument she would play for hours, bringing out the meet unhealthy, but withal, musical tones, which the neighbors far and near soon learned to marvel at and to designate as "Heienore's music" Sometimes quite an audience would gather around her while she plaved, and she always received their applauee with much dignity and as a matter cf course. But there was one thing about this instrument very remarkable and mysterious; it responded to Heienore's touch and to hers alone. Many others tried it but always with poor succe.e. Even Jack, who has a eort of facility with a dozen instruments, and can play the whole opera of "Patience" on a tin whistle, after a fashion, finally gave it np in despair, declar inj; that be believed Helenore was a witch; undoubtedly it was the peculiarity of her voice that gave to ber tooting such wonder ful effect. She seldom sang, and when she did, it seemed to be solely for the sake of giving Tent to some powerful emotion otherwise inexpressible. Her voice was low, but very sweet and flexible; she bad no high tones. I think abe considered them too light and frivolous to convey the feelings of her souL I once uked her why she never sang high "Mine heart is down here," she answered, lay leg her band upon her heart; and I was glad to believe that in those low, deep tones of hers, ao tremulous and ao solemnly sweet, the strange poetic soul of this poor untaught creature found full expression and was satisfied. She sang ber own words generally, and they were without connection a senseles. jumble; and yet as she saug them they often pcaeested aweiidand startling significance. Here is one of her songs: O. happy, happy me! Bo still, so tili, whito moon To lee. to love, to die. All siUl aud white to diel" By qneationing I found out what these words meant to her. She was alwajs at ease with me, and could express herself more freely to me than to anybody ehe: so she tried to explain this r- m 8iiarsldahe was "Oh, eo happy." She loved ber little chamber where she could be all atlll :" she lovea to nave the "white " icc-i la n kindly upca hsr at night,

and she felt it iron Id be good todiethere,,sll

till and white." In the spring. however, a change cave over out Helen ore. Htr deep content gave ilace gradually to strane xeatletaness. bhe was no longer the faithful, attentive little band-maid I bad learned to lore and trust. 8b e aemed to b trreeistlbty drawn away from all her indoor occupation; if a bird f arg near the Louse ehe ould droD her work ana rnn eaperly to the iiidow as if the hrard her own name called. Ube were tent down town on an errand, he was nnacconotabiy long in return lust: and. fir ally one afternoon when sbs look little redout for his arcuitomed air Ire she wee gone for hoart, wandering aero the fields, and bringing him home iosk, lying back fast asleep in bia carriage, witn a wreath of vio'ete like a halo round hit golden head and more clutched tightly In nis chubby band She received my inrprmd reproof In sul len silence, and I waited In tam for some account of her absence. She crew more and more et ran ere and rest less every day, fretting and cbafiug oyer her light taka and like some caged animal, on tu. fir any. I questioned her. "Helenore " paid I kindly, "what la ltthat alia v on? Tell me, and I will trj to help jou." At am ine frowned darkly ana wouia no answer, hot when I laid my nana gently ana coaxmgly upon her bead I had noticed she loved to hate me do so she j ielded and ber tonsue was looeed. Oh. madam, do not be angry I" she cried "We bate gipy blood in as, mine mod er do say and oh, I would be goin!' stretching oat ber arms toward the distant fields with aw,ft and eloqnent gtatare of lenging Ob, let me go! I most go! i I was both shocked and disappointed, and I to'd ber ao, and tried to reason with ber Wtere would youga?' I asked. "There are no gypIea near that you coold join, and you would soon starve and die alone; and he r. des. how ran yoa leave poor baby and me? Djyou not love us, Helenorer "Oh, I do, I do! ' she cried passionately, throwing herself down upon the floor; "and I do try not to hear them call. I put mine J0"8 in f1118 ea" but I bear them just Who CftU8 -ou Helenorer I asked. All things out o' door; the birds and bees and the winds. They call me, always, al ways: they say 'Helenore, Uelenore, come!' And I most go! she cried, springing to ber eetand looking wildly around. 1 feared she was losing ber mind, and was much alarmed about her; we tried to divert and amuse her in every possible way, and f f d 8he realy 'seemed to bi more qalet. I Bat one morning we misled her. The af t"noon previous, a band organ grinder and a woman, evidently hia wire, entered our eroUnds and Helenore went out to hear them play; and we noticed that she stood convening with them in her own language for some time afterward Thfiv had hpen hanpinc abont the neich . . . - .. . hnrhnod for sbtpm (Isvh and somenow we J falf mrA that h had cone with them. Oar Unjmicions were confiro'ed bv a farmer liy in mü nr so ahnve n who said h met thom int at dnsk. as he was retnrninehome frcm tue city a man and woman and our wlnrrft. H naid he reeotrnized Helennra at once, and spoke to her, but she made no answer. We learned further more from her mother that an organ grinder and his wife old ac quaintances of the family had been in the vicinity ror a week past ana naa put up a night or two at her own house, and she doubted not that they were the same person we bad in mind She made light of ber daughter's disappearance. Baying, with a shmg of her fat shoulders, that "she would D8 back soon enough," and seeming to think that in aoy case we were well rid of her. But we missed her and we mourned her, and I did not try to fill her place. My "very latest," as Jack still called her, seemed to have proved a sad failure. I was lingering in my rose-garden In the twilight of a warm September day, banging fondly over a bed of pet hybrids latest and sweetest of roses, when I suddenly missed little Ned from my side, and, looking around lor mm, I spied him swinging on the front gate. I started to go toward him, and at that moment the figure of a woman sprang up, as it were, out of the ground mar bim and at the same time I heard a glad cry from Ned: "Helenore! Helenore!' It was our Helenore. She caught bim to her breast and flew, s wif t as the wind, across the Jawn to meet me, and. dropping on her knees, with one arm still round the bewildered child, she clung to me desperately. sobbing and groaning, but not one word did sne peak I begged her to rise, but a&e would not; so I sat djwn there ou the damp grafs and, taking her head in my lap, joo.nel her with the old toach of the hard she loved so well. At lat she heaved a long tremulous sigh and lifted her face to mine. I can not ask you to forgeev," she murmured humbly; 'that would be too good for Lleieoore;bot 1 come to see yoa once more and tell you what is so heavy here" press ing her hand on her heart "and then to die." I led her into the house and drew from her the history of her experience since she left us in the spring. "Were the people with whom you went awav kind to you?" I asked "Kind!" she cried fiercely, Oü, they were indeed most cruel! True, the; did nev er hurt me lixe mine moder, but they bave made me so to satfer that I wish not to live anymore." "Bat yoa liked It at first, did you not the fields and the woods and the music?" "Yes; and I liked well to wander and to be free; but I learned soon that only chil dren and birds and equirels areMrult freenot woman with their heart here and here" touching ber forehead aud laying her hand on her heart. I wondered at her words, but I understood them later. "For a few days we had a happy time, and they were good to me, but then trouble came I could not dance when I was tired, and I could not learn to sine their fougs and they laughed at my own poor songs; sa they bean to speik only bad words to me and cared not if I starved and suffered. "We were far away I know not wher when we came to a large woods, where many men chopped the trees and some wives and children were there too, and I begged the music man and woman tbat I might stay and work lor them and leev in a little but; and I stayed. Tbey too came hack a iter ward and worked. 'And were you happy there?" She clasped her bands tightly over her bosom, and a new and strange expression swept over her face that I did not under stand. "Happy ! happy!' she murmured. "Oh, W ! yes; listen l win ten you:" ..-. m a. a . . 'One chopper was xina to me; ne sata he lovedme loved me!" ehe repeated solemnly, with a tender thrill in her voice that exDlaincd alL "And he was ao kind to me, as if I bad been a queen I It was he, too. mad- .. . Ill i.. L A . L. . II. t am, tuat aia teaca me to speaa so wen; ior he is a Yankee man," she added proudly, And you eee I do speak much netter? ' lamented. "Where is he now?" I asked. 'Oh. I know not! I know not!" she cried. rocking herself back and forth and wringing ber hands That wicked man and woman took me away one night; they said that be, my Eloi, bad sent for me te go to meet mm iar, rar otf; a d when we foundnim sot tney mocvea and laughed at my pain. Oh. 1 coma kin them! liars! beasts!" The last words were only a bias of race, and she atopped short. choked with paaaion. Helenore," said I, "why aid tney aeceive you so? What bad you done to them? "What bad I done to tbemr Noting, not ing; but they hated me like mine in oder de, and would rot that I should be happy." Here she paused and a sadden revulsion of feeling eemtd to sweep oyer ter. None are ever kind to uelenore, ane aaia sadlv "none but yoa and Him." Then lif tins my hind to her llpa the kkd It m

erently and made again (bat itro oi the

cross. I was deeply touched; I drew the tbe'tf ' on girl my io me and said, with cheeks: Stay with us. Helenure, and try to be bipi-y a?aln." Wbatl Say yoa aoT she cried, ner eye lde with wonder. "Then, now, do you ndeed forgeey like God." And ahe began to weep natmally aod eofily. heddiog lb Oft e tears that always relieve the heart. Sfce was very tired, and when I reminded her, presently, that ber little chamber and the pretty whit bed were walling, she smiled for the first time. Ah." she said, almost briabOy, "it can not be tbat I aball die now, and perhaps my Eloi will find me, though I CGUid not find him." Her words proved t ropbeiic. Ooe nibta few weeks after her return, we were star tied by the tramming of a banjo under He) enore's window, soon joined by a lnsty voice oawliDg out r1rbt heartily aomsfoo.ith ditty we heard in the streets. 1 prang np at once. "Jack," sa'd I, "that is Heienore's Eloi; I know it!" I went quickly to her room she had not yet retired for the ninbt and when Iopencd the door she was etandli g like a statue by the bed; she turned, as I spoke her name.and with a look of eca'acy, pointing to the window eaid: 'Eloi EIoü" "Yes." .aid X: "eo down and ask him to come in." Walt, wait." she aid mjsterionj'ly ; and seizing her "music" tbe pacer horn she leaned far out of the window and blew blast aeon blast of ber niot unearthly strains. whi-h. added to the roar of her lover's voice produced an effect Indescribably strange and lunicrons. We concluded ihat he bad beard those soui-ds before, as otherwise, at the first blast. he certainly mast tave taken to his heels and runaway. Eiiaa Rogers for that was the young man's name was in truth a "Yankee man.' as Helenore claimed, bat he had liyed much among the Canadians and spoke their Jan euage like his own. We found tbat be was honestly in love with our Helenore; and rough and coarse as beseemed, be doubtle.s bad a romantic. sympathizing nature, or he could not have understood and appreciated ber as be evi dently did. We were rel'eved to find bim in every way so worthy of ber and so suited to make her happy. And now my story is soon finished. Helenore left us again, but this time with bappy smiles and the hope cf seeing us very often, in short, wnue l write, she sits ou on our piazza with her own o&by in ber arm' and my Ned grown now to be jnite a big b3y leaning on her lap. tihe is telling him what he shall find when he comes to eee hr and Eloi in the woods where tbey are chopping birds' eggs to add to his collection. "Oh. so many kinds! but they will only take one from each nest, be caute the mother bird would be sad and grieve it Her heart is tender as of yore, but it never aches now except for others woes." Olve aud Take. Smoothing soft the nestling head Of a maiden 'ancy-Ied, Thus a grave-eyed woman said: "Richest gifts are tbose we make. Dearer than the love we take That we give for love's own sake. "Well I know the heart's unrest: Mine has been the common quest To be loved and there blest. "Favors undeserved were mine: At my feet as on a Fhrlno Love has laid lis gilts divine. "Sweet the offering seemed, and yet With their sweetness came regret. And a sense ot unpaid debt. "Heart of mine unsatisfied. Was It vanity or pride Tnat a deeper joy denied? "Hands that ope but to receive Empty cloe: they only live Richly who can richly give. still," she sighed, with moistening eyes "Love is sweet in any guise: ut It's best is sacrifice! Re who. giving, docs not crave Llkest is to him who gave Life Itself the loved to save. "Love that self-forgetful gives Sows surprise of rlpned sheaves. Late or noon its own reeelvea." By John Greenleaf Whlttier, in the Independ out. LITTI-K KOLKS Little Bessy "O mamma, I've dot such an awfal headache in my stomach!' Alice (who has been taught that Gd evfrvthine) ' I don't ink even D. d's could tee ze butter on dat b ead " sees eyes A small boy went to see hin grandmother, fter looking eagerly around the handsome ly furnished room where the sat. be ez claimed: "Oh, xraDdtna, where In the mis erable table papa pays you keep? ' Little boy: ' How old are yoa, pa?' rather: "I will be forty-eeven on my next birtbday." Little boy: "When is thatr Father: "The twentv-secord of Febaary." Lilt tie boy (surprised): Why, I thought that was Washington's birthday." The bright little son of a senator evidently thought the senate was an bereditory iosti tution; for, when asked what he intended to be on reaching manhood, he mournfully amwered: "Well, I'd like to be a hack-driver, but I a' pose I'll bave to be a senator. Johnny was saying bis prayer before going to bed, his slow thoaghts helped out by his mother's suggestions. "Bless all the little lambs of the flock." said mamma. Johany knew that meant him among the regt, and reasoned quickly and generously from the children to the parents. "Bless all the little lambs," he repeated, "and the old sheep, too!" Some good stories are told of the examinations by school inspectors in the London elementary schools. The following may certain ly claim to have put the examiner in the least fayorab'e light : "With what weapon," he asked, "did Samson slay the Philistines?" and finding that the youngsters hesitated, and wishing to prompt them, he touched bis own cheek siguificantly and asked: "What is this?" Bis action awakening the chords of memory, the whole class responded with one voice, "The jwbine f an a-s." This was as cltver in its way as the answer of the lit'legirl to the question: "Who cme after Solomon?" "The Q aeen of Stieb sir," or of the lal who defined an unclean spirit as "a dirty devil, sir." A Famished Boy. Tommy Wltherspoon, whose father is fa mous for his stinginess, went to dinner with a neighbor. ".Sow. Tommy, lust ao as it yoa were at borne,' said the lady of the bouse. Tommy began to cry. "What are you crying about? "If I do just as if I was at home, I dassent eat half as much I want ter. Boo hoo!" laid tbe poor boy The lady then told him to eat just as if be was not at home, and with a bright smile on his open face, Toaimy stowed away enough provisions to last him for a week to come. Why tha Ldttlet Jeans Waa Thee. Bob had put his little shoe ia tbe fireplace. His' "petite maa.au" was dreadfully M, and the "little Jesns" who bring the Christ mas tovs to all good children did not dare to doao this time Bob, after rubbing bis eyea early next morning, goes toward tbe fireplace and finds mar bis ahse, aurroutded by ail sorts of lovely dainties, a little brother, rosy from top to toe, in a little cradle tbat ia as white as white can be. Bob opens his e j es very wide before tbia unexpected treasure, aad running toward bis pale mamma, who is lying in her bed, be cri a Mamma, look here the little Jesus couldn't climb back up to Heaven !"

GOTHAM GOSSIP.

Hon Thousands of Children Are Edu Cited ts Criminals la TT York. Offspring of Ont&fcppy M.rrla.cs Tlio Caa of Otncral Tgrancy .among Children Their Abhorrence cf Country Life n tbe tyranny ol Tradts Unions. tW York lioisip. I Philadelphia Press.1 Niw York, Jan. 23. I bave always had an idea that a man must have a boy's tastes a Lid inclinations if he expects to be of any use to them or bave an inflaence oyer them. You can not drive, you can not coax, but yoa can, by being one of the crowd, ia syxn pany with a clean cut apprehension of the desires, whims, inclinations and tastes that move, actuate and stimulate boys ot tbe present day, win their confidence, and, after little, secure tbeir following. New York is packed with children. Theoldstoryo little girls selling papers at 11 o'clock a nigni is just as truetouay as it was years ago, when the subject first attracted pubii notice, ana ine grinamg outrages perpe traiea oy tne district messenger cjLopaaietnpon the little fellows of .Sew York and Brooklyn, and, I daresay, Philadelphia as well, toach me very nearly, I often think aa l see these little Teltows ehivermg witL cold or drenched with the rain, what fa tare there Is for them. They have no trade, nor calling. They are in a business where their employers are ruae, narsn ana exciting, where the patrons ot their employers axe very apt to be seauc live, where all manner of petty deceit and aa. a ireaanery ana pecuniary dishonesty is part and parcel or their dail teachings. In the Tombs we have a bojs' prison, and there can always be feund there quite a company oi poor nine aevus, sad ana weary, but no poor little devils, sad and weary, as the hon yeoman or the tender mother interprets tha expression. They are cheeky, bard featured, callous hearted. ISow it is a big problem lor men are only grown up boys, and when these boys grow up they willstaud upon tbe plane of activity, of earnestness and Indus try. in some way or otner, precisely as you and 1 and other men stand to-day. SKLr EDUCATED CKIMIHAL8 It is remarkable how otten, in question ing tne youtniui convicts in our prisons as to the causes of tbeir downfall, they will re ply that, "if they bad had a trade, they wcuid not have been there." They dislik drudgery; they found places in offices ar shops crowd d; tbep would have enjoyed th companionship of the inventiveness of trade, but tney couM not obtain one, and i--- a a . inereiore, mey were tea into stealing or gambling as a quick mode of earning a liv ing. Of course, if such a lad would walk forth to tbe aearest country village, be would find pleanty of healthy and remunerative em ployment on the ground as gardner or farm er. And to the country lad the farm offers a better chance than a trade. But many city boys and young men will not consent to leave the excitements ot the city, so that the want of mechanical occupation does expose them to many temptations The persons most responsible for this state of things are the members of such "unions' a - . as reiuse to employ Doys, or to encourage the training of apprentices. It is well known that in many trades of New lork, hardly any young laborers or apprentices are being trained. The result oi this selhsh policy wii be to reduce the amount or skilled labor in this city, and thus compel the importation ot foreign labor, and to Increase juvenile crime aid the burdens on the poor. Anotner cause oi tms increasing eepara tion irom traoss among tne young is. no doubt, the iccreaaing aversion of American children, whether p or or rich, to learn any thing thoroughly ; the boys of the street, like these of our merchants, preferring to make fortunes by lucky and "sudden turns," rath er than by patient and steady industry. Our hope iu this matter is in the steady demand lor juvenile labor in the country districts and the substantial rewards which await industry there. BROKEN MARRIAOE8. It is extraordinary, among the lowes classes, in bow large a number of cases a sec ond marriage, or the breaking of a marriage is tbe immediate cause of crime or vagrancy among the children. When questioning homeless boy or a street-wandering girl as to the former home, it is extremely common to hear, "I couldn't get on with mv etep . . ,, .... . . . i - motner, or "jtiy step lamer treatea roe badly," or "My father left, and we just took care of ourselves." These apparent y exceptional events are so common in these clashes as to constitute an important cause ot j uven ue crime, wnen one reflects on the great number of bappy second marriages and how many children haye never felt the difference between their step mother and their own mother, and what love and patience and self sacrifice are shiwn by parents to tbeir step children, we may be surprised at the contrast in another class of the community. But the virtues ot tbe poor spring very much from their affections and instinct; tbey have com paratively little self control; the high lessons of duty aud consideration for others are seldom stamped on them, and religion does not much influence their more delicate relations with those assocfated with them They might shelter a strange orphan foryears with the greatest kindness; but the bearing and forbearing with the faults of another person's child year after year, merely from motives of duty or affection to its parent, belong to a higher range of Christian virtues, to which they seldom attain. Their own want of selfcontrol and their tendency to jealousy and little understanding of true self-sacrifice, combine to weaken and embitter these relation with stepchildren. The children themselves have plenty of faults, and have doubtless been little governed, ao that soon both parties jar and rub ageinst one another, and, as neither have instincts or affections to fall back upon, mere principle or sense of duty is not enough to restrain them. What would be simply slights or jars in more controlled persons become collisions in this class. STRAINED CAMILY RELATIONS. Bitter quarrels spriBg up between stepson and mother, or step daughter and father; the other parent sometimes sides with the child, sometimes with the father; but the resol. is similar. The house becomes a kind of pandemonium, and the girls rush desperately forth to the wild life of the streets, or the boys gradually prefer tbe roaming existence of the little city Arab to such a quarrelsome home. Thus It happens that stepchildren among the poor are so often criminals or outcasts. It needs a number of years among tbe lower working classes to understand what a force public opinion is in all classes in keeping the marriage bond sacred, and what iweping misfortunes follow its violation. Many of the Irish peasants who have landed here bave married from pure affection. Tbeir marriage has been consecrated by the moat solemn ceremonies of their Church They come cf a people peculiarly faithful to tbe marriage tie, and whose religion has especially guarded female purity and the fldel ity of husband and wife. At home, in their natiye villages, tbey would have died sooner than break tbe bond or leave their wives. Tbe social atmosphere about them and the influence of tbe priests make auch an act almost impossible. And yet, in this distant country, away from tbeir neighbors and their religious instructors, they are continually making a practical test of "Free love" doctrines. As the wife grows old or ugly as children increase and we'gh tbe parents down as the home becomes noisy and less pleasant the man begins to fr.rget the vows made at the altar, and the blooming girl he then took; and perhaps meeting some prettier woman, or hearing of some chance for work at a di lance, he slips quietly away, and the deiert d wife, who seems to love hia the more the

more false be U, ialeft alone. For a time

she has faith in him and seeks bim far and near; but at length she abandons hope and begins the heavy struggle of maintaining ber little familv bertelt- The boy gradually get beyond her control ; tbey are ket in the street to earn something for tbeir sup port; lhy become wild and vagrant, aDd soon ecd with being street rovers, or petty thievsf, or young crixnnal. The girls are traintd in beggiug or peddling, a cd, meeting with bold company, they gradcally learn tbe manners and morals of the streets and, af ter awile, abandon the wreatcbed home and break what waa left of the poor mother's hope and courage by beginning a life of shame. Ibis 88d history is lived out every div in New ott, if any tneonsts desire to see what fruits -x-ree Liove" or weak marriage bonds can bear among the lowsst working clasees, they have only to trace tbe histories of a great number of tbe youog thieves and outcasts and prostitutes in this city With the dangerous c'aees "elective affinities" ire mcstly honestly followed. The result are snffi-ring. crime, want and degradation to these who are innocent. THE A5TID0TX FOUXD. In tbe United 8tates a boundless hore per vades all elapses; It reaches down to the out cast and vagrant There ts no fiiity, as is to often tbe fact In Europe, from tbe sentence ofdespa'r. .Svery individual, at least til he is eld, hopes and expects to rise out of bis cor tiition. The daughter ot the rag picker or vagran ees tne cnuaren sne knows continually dressing better or associating with more de cent people; she beholds them attending the public schools and improving in education and manners; she comes in contact with the reai st force the poor know public opto ou, which requires a certain decency at.d respectability among themselves She becomes ashamed of her squalid, raeeed or drunken mother. 8he enters the Id du trial school, or creeps into the ward school, or "goes out" as a servant. In every place she feels the profound forces of American life, the desire for equality, ambition 1 1 rise, the senoe of self respect and the passion for education. These new desires overcome the low appetites in her blood and she continually rises and Improves. Tbe poison in ber blood has found an antidote. When she marries, it will inevitably be with a class above ber own. Tbe process goes on continually throughout the country and breaks up criminal inheritance. Moreover, the incessant change of our people, especially in cities, the separation of children from parents, of brothers from sisters, and of all from their former localities, destroy that continuity of influence which bad parents and grandparents exert and do away with those neighborhoods of crime and pauperism where vice concentrates and transmits its elf with increasing power. It is said that these working girls, seeing such fine dresses about them and learning many useless accomplishments, have become indifferent to steady hand labor and have sought in vice for the luxuries which ther have first learned to know in the public schools. My own observation, however, leads me doubt whether this occurs, unless as an exceptional fact. Where there ia a habit of work there are seldom the laziness and shiftlessness which especially cause or stimulate sexual vice. Some working girls do, no doubt, become discontented with their former condition and some rise to a much higher, while some fall ; but this happens everywhere in the United States aud is not to be traced especially to the influence of our free schools. AN ADVANTAGE OF TUE CITY. I have spoken of the great tendency of large cities, as compwed with villagts, in Km. b in.. T,r .s-n fa mi U1.0 Th.u 10 n.

other advantage of cities in this matter. The 8,8ns Heaven were only imperfect y exespecial virtue ot a village community is the plained, as they had only been revealed to sei f. res nor t and rersnnAl indenend-nr nf ttn One of the parties. It WOUld be best to wait

members. No benefits of charily or benevo-'and 8e lf ?DV 'milar communication were lent assistance and dependence could everimade t0 nim an(1 ay enebcamehe would

outweigh this. But this very virtue tends to keep a wicked or idle family in its present condition. The neighbors are not in the habit of interfering with it; noone advises or warns It. The children erow no as other neonle'a chiliden do, in the way the tarents prefer; theie is no machinery of charity to lift them out of the slime; and, if any of tneir wealth ier neighbors, from motives of benevolence, visited the bouse, and attempted to improve or educate the lamily, the effort would be resented or misconstrued. The whole family become a kind of pariahs, they are morally tabooed, and grow up in a vicious atmosphere of their own, and rea ly come out much wor.e than a similar family in the city. This phe nomenoa ia only a natural edVct of the best Virtues of the rural community. In a large town, on the other band, there exist machinery and organization through which benevoleot aud religious persons can approach such familiee, and their good intentions not be suspected or resented. The poor people themselves are not so it-depend ent. and accept advice or warning more leidiiy; they are nut so stamped iu pabl.c repute with a bad name; Jess is known ot them, and the children, under new influences, break off froru the vicious career of tbeir parents and grow up as honest and industrious persans Moreover, the existence of so much c .writable organization in the cities brings the best talent and character cf tbe fortunate clashes to bear directly oh the unfortunate, far more than is toe fact in villages. I am ltd to this line of thought by reaa ng tne reports oi some oi these a a associations. I believe in tbeir motive and ecd rse their machinery. We have tboa sands of street Arabs here, and, nnless organ izd method controls them, the devil of nur raLdjm will come in a short time, and when be does, he'll reign a thoasand years Howard. GOSSIP ABOUT GOVERNORS. Ten of the States Rulers Pleasantly Talked ADoUC, .Lancaster Intelligencer.! I bave met ten of tbe present Governors of the States, including Scales, of North Caro una, who is about going In, and Waller, of Connecticut, who is just coming out and have a good acquaintance with most of them. Governor Pattison is the youngest and the most austere. Governor Cameron, of Virginia, is the most convivial, but I ahould judge not the least intellectual. He has never recovered from the social disfavor visited upon bim by his association with Mahone. He tried to unbuckle the collar of that tyrannical little boss when it fretted him, but it wss too late. Governor Knott, of Kentucky, reached the height of his ambition when he got into the executive chair of his State, and he may be expected to retire from it to private life whan bis term is ended. Knott has a fine artistic taste and when a boy developed some genius for sculpture. Governor McDaniel, of Georgia, is an industrious, painstaking man, with a good reputation aa a lawyer, though he has an impediment in bis speech that must have interfered with his success as an advocate. Gevernor McLane. of Maryland, is the worthy son of an illustrious aire. He has seen a great deal of public life and talks like a boot Governor Hoadley, of Ohio, is the ablest lawyer of tbe lot; a singularly clear-headed and able man positive and yet practical; determined, but courteous and genial. Governor Aabett of New Jersey, is a born fighter; an aggressive, untiring man, who generally carries his point Like his predecessor, McClellan, Abbett was born ia Philadelphia. Governor Waller started life as a newsboy; he got along. He haa a smooth face, long, bushy dark hair and wears gold eye-glasses. He talks fluently and agreeably, and ia said to resemble Stephen A. Douglas in personal appearance. Like Abbett he is a fighter. A sorebeaded politician, who bad been boring bim for official favors, one day threatened that if be wasn't accommodated be would publish some let ers that he thought would compromise bim. Waller didn't go down on his knees. He called his private secretary and had him kick the frl low out of the front djor. Governor Cleve land talks like a man who "meant business," abd be seems to have beea one of the few pubiio men of the Caan try who has not made any mistakes in hia public utterances.

PREACHERS' WIVES.

The Old Lous of Msdj Xuted JlinUUrr of the Uoepel. What Is a Good Wife? A Riehop with Fuar and Eager for m Fifth-itaz-ter'a MSltv. m. , . . , , 'I 1 I ineioioiapreacnerswiieisoy no n-sacs an easy one. bee is secona in importance io -. . I thenreaefcer himself. Her incominS and . ...... . . . out goings are ail noticea.ner personal r-, thenumberof her dresses, the trimmings on her hnnnet thn mar APAment of her family. I are all matters that the ladies ot the congreeatlon make it a special point to comment upon. Many a poor clergyman has been in greater danger of dismissal from the color oi his wife's bonnet strings than from any error ot doctrine on his own part She must be a good mixer aoroad and an expert manager at home, know how to live on next to noth ing. keep a clean and smiling face, visit the sick and poor, and not neglect the rich and haughty. Her course is continually between ScyJla and Chary Ddis quuksanus on one side, clilTa on the other. Her fate is indeed an unvenviable one, and if it is provei biai that preachers sols turn out bad. why lay it not at the door of their poor taa.sed mother. MaDy and curious are tbe anecdote related of distinguished preachers' wives now some preachers obtain their wives would f jrm a readable article. The story ol Rev. Rabert Hall's marriage Is unique. One day , w hile getting off his horse at a friend's rrr the purpose of dining whh him, he d(r was loked on his old bachelor proclivities. HenaJenorepy .but at tbe table he t ok especial notice 01 tue servant girl who came in to fix the lire. After dinner, as he was sitting alone m the parlor, the young wornan again entered with the coalscuttle when SinHrftnrimiUJJ." "v "ft Jin' w ii; tl7r? 1(e,thK k ie8?9S-H i ! vt T 81rl,.re piled she hoped she did taking tbe question merely as an accustomed one from a minis- .. r -.. -o ,.-...-.... . r u.li . Jin T! V?S?SZ; .-TW Betty, jotj i must love meJ 4"d asked her to that aha beiiered " nl h.d 1 v" J away and told the family aaavsa a J a-a a aaa j mw . f w v Mf Hall had rrnn a prartr Y T .r v" T " wceiutuaj ,h Kvt' SiPt when the latter declared Jht uchws W intention of marry ing Betty . that he favored iue way sue put lue cu-ta u xucjr were married and lived happily together. Atthbishop Leighton lived a bachelor. When be held the see of Damblane, he was, of course, a subject ot no inconsiderable in tereut to the unmarried ladies of tbe neigh borb'iod. One day be received a visit from one of them who was on the verge ot despe ration. She had something of grave import ance weighing upon her mind. Tbe good bishop noticed her dilemma, and by kind ness and coaxing urged her to unbosom her self. Finally she said she had received a rev velation from heaven. The revelation bad said that she was to be united to the bishop in marriage. It is easy to imagine the start the good bishop gave, who was wedded to his books and studies. He soon recalled his self pts session, and assured ber that these revela I OD1 W.re IOIU) Ut) Ut.9.lWU. 3 VC. IUO UO not fail to let her know. Thus the importu nate female was quietly letdown. Queer laws once prevailed in England in regard to the lives of clergymen. Macaulay that in Charles II. a time a watting woman wsi generally considered as a most suitable help-mate for a parson. Uueen Elizabeth, as the head of the church, had given what seemed to be a formal sanction to this prejudice by issuing special orders that no clergyman should presume to marry a servant girl without the consent of the master or witness. Bach an order as this is, however, easily explained, when one consid ers that the feudal sytem prevailed. The sons of affluent gentleman were proud to wait upon a great peer or officer of state to serve bim at table, and the sisters of these well born pages esteemed it no degradation to serve in like manner ladies whoe degree was higher than their own. Thus every Lord s castles contained leroa e servants whose manners and birth were gentle, and who were never confounded with the daughters of plowmen. If tbey were orphans their masters stocd in the p ace of parents to them aud guarded them from disadvantaeois mrrnage connections. In those times it was not uncommon for a clergyman to select his wife by a deputy If this discreet neighbor th-.ugbt she would make a good pastor'a wife, the matrimonially itclmed clergymrn was wont to take her to his parsoaage without regard t) her beautv, temper or qualifications. The story of tie celeorated H ok er s love affairs shows the spirit in which clergymen married in those times and how they suffered the consequences. He was a very diffident man, and was once summoned up to Ljudon to preach at St. Paol's. He went to the house of a man named Churchman drenched t) the akin with raiu, and bis good wife, seeing bis plight, put bim to bed and physicked him with warm teas aud gruel until be was in condition to piesrh. Seeing bis loneliness, and having herself a husband, and being thus unable to recommend herself to the position of his wife, she did the next best thing brought forward her daughter, and the two were married, and she became tbe torment of the poor man's life. Two of his old pupils Cranmer and öandays once called upon him, and she called him away from them to rock the baby's cradle. The celebrated William Baxter, author ot the "Saints' Rest," was wooed aud won by one Margaret Chariton. Says tbe historian of this singular courtship, which nothing short of the privileges enjoyed by ladies in leap-year could haveinvesied with decorum: She, being a pious and devout young lady, fell in love with bim on account of his holy life and fervency in prea .uing, aui therefore sent a friend to acquaint him with her respects in his chamber He replied that since he had passed his youth in celibacy it would be reported madness in mm to narry a woman while he could not discharge the part of a husband In all respects. She was, ot course, listening at the door, and she said: "Dear Mr. Baxter. I protest with a tiocere and real heart I do not make tbe tender of myself to you upon any worldly or carnal account but to have a more perfect converse with so holy and prudent a yokefellow to assist me in the way to heaven, and to keep me steadfast in my perseverance." bhe triumphed, and the good man was led under the mistletoe bough. Bishop Thomai was married four times, and, not content with this exploit had this epitaph carved on the wedding ring at bis fourth marriage: If I survive I'll make them five. He used to tell his parishaners bow be married so often, and bis recipe, while it was a vein of humor, may also possest a grain of common sense. 'Wny. should my presset wife die I will take another, ond it is mv opinion that I shall survive her. Perhaps you don t know the art of getting rid of your wives, 1 11 tell you how I da. I am railed a very good husband and at I nm, for I never contradict them. That circumstance alone is exercised and health and tbe best medicine to ail women. Bat give them their own way and tbey will languish and pine, become gross aLd lethargic for want of this exercea. and you ilaocn be quit of them. T in an old ermon.ai aaaintaslt is ancient. ntitled ''The R b Restored," preached by Kichard Meggott, afterward dn ox Salis-

"A help she must be in oir family, belDf ret only a wile but a Locswife; notaf.e:d wife. lik Dinah: nor a lire l mite, lis: ThotuM; n--r a window wife, like JtztIi out a bcuffaife. ' Another man of quips and quirps ave: "To h or not to be. Bbeaboold be like three things, and yet she should not be like thf ?e three things First, she should be like a snail, always deep within ber otro house; bat rhe should cot belike a snail and carry all ebe has upon her back. Secondly, he should be like an echo, to speak when tbe is spoken to; but the should not be like an echo to always have the last word ;Clrdly, she should be like a town clock, always keep Hm ftrri r?n)aHtv hit ihi Vinn Iii Tint hu nlk, A towrj cjcck t0i pakso loud that all " r --J bmuv. - - L-11. L. M m iown can near ner." i rsacnera ae Dot mortal, and lonietimes Uetfocled like tbe rest of bamani'V when they eelect a he'pmate. Rev. Dr Bell or e of thse. He was the author of tbe Madras vtm of education, ard lft a for tune of f .00,000. which was devoted to the foandation of a icbool. His wife was a gen ome tartar, a shrew of tbe worst order, and he obtaiDed a divcrce from her. She took her revence, hjaever, by writing bim impudent letters, indorsed on the outside with spiteful comments, such as "To that su preme of rogues who looks tbe hand deg tbat he is. Dr. (such a decor!) Andrew Bell." Another read: "To the ape of apes and tbe knave of knaves, who is recorded once ta have paid a debt, but a small one, you may b? suie, it was that he selected for this won derful experiment; in fact it was 4M pence; bad it been on tne otner siae ot G pence be must have d'ed before be could bave achieved so dreadf al a sacrifice." She kept op this system of abuse for a series if years, much to the annoyance ot tbe worthy cler gyman. Key. John Wesley, tbe ronnderor Metho dism, had a number of ridiculous love scrapes which hia admirers have had hard work to explain. When he went to Georgia ! 'n, ' r. V h. . f Vs. Ttn LldÄDJ!??Jl ? !'!. .Itl? va shA I m 4 f . m 1 m W n I I a. aa a k b I ... t hl)lt,. .n(i t ,nr. h,-,ir,. I "V" ,v,: . vT . ' 7i J. . I " " ' Vv. , Än1 ritinc, f. Vr. wiiiUmn Vn.t 7k. " "I-rl JT" t " hp Mr. wniumann that üe bad f 'proposed to her d been reputedly rejected Wesley, in bis lournal does not deiy this. Mrs. WIN liameonwasa Miss Canston, the nelce of Qeneral Oglethorpe, who planted Georgia, f1ar nf kT-..Zi k-. ii tier aunt is said to have encouraged ber intimacT "hh Wesley, hoping that be would FfeDCtl leßÄOn8 o( w consulted bim aboat h' dress, and she nursed him through 'ever. No doubt he fell.'in love with her, but he deemed it his duty to consult his but he deemed it his duty ldef8- They had already sat in judgment tbc atIair' and advised him to break Hedld a another. Then tbe preacher refused her communion for.om- .lipoid breach nf disrinlin and eventuslly he returned to England. The celebrated divine seems to have had a penchant for the fair sex. for he soon comes to the front in a love affair with Grace Murray, his servant. Grace appears to have been a fickle maid, bound to marry some one, and she played fast and loose with the Rev. John. She traveled with Wesley, and be speaks highly of her engsging behavior. He proposes marriage to her aud abe pretecda not to understand bim, and be leaves ber witb John Bennett one of bis subordinates. John soon became engaged to her; then Wesley sent him a sharp letter, upbraiding him for robb ng him of bis faithful servant aud fellow-laborer for the Gospel whom be had been forming to bis band for ten years. At last Charlie Wesley broke up the match, and declared tbat Grace's character waa ruined if she did not marry Bennett It nearly broke the preacher's heart, for Wesley laved Grace, yet she married Bennett within a week. Tbe depth of the Rev. John's feelings may be judged from tbe doggerel he wrote at the time: My soul a kindred spirit found, By Heaven Intrusted to my care, Tbedauitdter of my f.ith and prayer. Ott (tbou.h as yet the nuptial tie Was not) rlplng her hand in mine; "What lorre' t.e salJ, 'beneath the sky. Can our well-knit souls disjoin ?" The reverend man, however, was doomed to worse disappointment than that he re ceived at the bands of tbe fickle Grace, for he soon married a wealthy widow, Mrs. Vizelle, of whom Southey saya.'Uhat she deserved to be cias.ed in a triad with Xan tippe and the wife of Job as one of the three bad wives." His wife was terribly jealous of him, and especially angered at bis friendship with other women. She opened his correspondence surreptitiously, and one day, finding a letter from Harah l.yan, a housekeeper and intriguante, she packed up her things and left him. Then the famous preacher wrote in his diary: "I did not leave her. I did not snd her awav. and I will never recall her.M Perhaps Mr Wesley ought to have lived In a world where there were no women, lor, like the man who was weeping over the grave of his seventh wife, when a friend came to console him, he blubberlngly retlied: 0h. curse it; I always bave the darndest luck with women." Reminded. All heed'es ot the world. In lt own III Absorbed and dumb, the heart lies, while the Cay And dart seem but al ke. no single ray Of bopeiul licht bteaks through, its grief to titl. It lies a'nne and hopeless; every thrill Of t itter pain whicn bo'dj It in uco sway Betms a iweot sign tbat death will not delay: But life holds ktrong, ana with unconscious skill The mind takes note of all. Keenl y the ear Hears every allgh test noue, tbe half -closed eye Sees every pitteru ou ths wall, each line Is cut upon the brain lu flgnns tut. Lotig years elapse, and think tha grief laid by, A sight, a sound, tbe old hard pain la here. Miss Laura M. JJarqcand. In Harper's Mafatine. Real Poetry. For real poetry aud pathos, watch that f oung wile and her mother at the baby inen counter, says th? Albany Express. Toe wife of a year, probably; tbe girlish face looks a mtio sad, an 4 motnerbood is faintly shadowed there She is purchasing garments for one who is as dear to ber as her life. As each tiny article of the tiny troseeau is shown to ber a flood o feeling wells up and leaves a rosy slain upon her cheeks. That snowy mass of muslin and lace, which is called a robe has a terrible fascination for her. Enveloped in that r .be ehe sees a tiny form, the lit' le nestling head, the wee restless hands, she almost feels the clinging fingers. "Isn't it beautiful?" she sighs, and turns to her mother, who looks on not un sympathizlngly, but witb an eye to tbe practical and a present appreciation of the exact amount her son-in law can afford to spend. "I must have this lovely robe, mamma." "We will see, dear," says mamI m ' I mm .Fram it ia tftn artMni'va 0r, dea- Tei: l8 We will look at seme ethers." Ii at the daughter w . is not satis tied. They begin to count up the cost of all that they need. The items grow apace. Tbe amount is still too much. It is no use, they can not spare $18 for one dress. Again she goes over the whole catalogue. She leaves out some thintrs altogether, and says: "I can make all tbe plain things, you know, mamma." Then tbey count up azain. No, it ia no use; it can not be done, and the disappointed one has to leave the counter without the wished-for robe. If ber husband could only see ber, but he can not. Besides, he has given her all the money he thinks ahe needa; in fact be believes she can not possibly spend all he gave ber on such little bits of things. When his wife shows him ter purcbsss she will doubtless do it almo6t tremblingly. She knows be expects to see a great deal more for the money. He will certainly think she bas been extravagant 6he can not ask him for ru( re money. It would not be jcet He worka so bard for all be baa. And so the matter rests. Not a word about a coatlv robe. Did he but know what passed at that counter, the chances are that be would find some way of gratifying tbe tender, loving ambition which thinks nothing too good for tne uius aomaoooy ana naa not i

bnry, the preacher says of a rood wife: