Jasper Weekly Courier, Volume 28, Number 30, Jasper, Dubois County, 7 May 1886 — Page 7

WEEKLY COURIER.

C. DOAXJBi PubUHlvwf. JASPML - INDIANA. WHAT TO BELIEVE. ImMI H tflf ift? ksMI tnMitl tMMMkJUMt SHamM Wl'l 1ISal MHIilAil X VtsT sT"" bjstswooi swa-fa-. aww"S"Jiemsnk Tb you, my frtaaS, TWS b' I ' mum irf Iwiimwi VkiMVM' 4m your bawls met rata. itna mm inrm, mm itmm 1 aelleva la Mummt'i hi mm! abala, Altbottfb hMUr th hm fee faitMf-; gxiwet Im voteee in tbe rl4. TWtfjl BOW tbe Wm4 KMMW an ewUiaf , eve tfMtom Saw fair tkhnr Im; Let Ha. m Fear, wore WMi awthraMas;; Antt w hmm miiwi wmi wwMi m 4re4ebel Hvtely thtaa aaS tb HaveMwal faith la all tar kto, fMteve the Immi of ot aaotber: Om? FaWr' heart lakes alt mea ta, jte at 4k ir Iky brother. If one deceive Way MflteT Tbe reet, M m alt alMaes. Maa4hor7 Who (be HMtftt look for kvn will la4 Mart certainly tbat beerU are klml. HecaH tbe ae wKk bwefl tbetnrbt. .Not It. but tbou thyself art tfebter: Beeoht what wcMHJf n have feeea wrHbt, HeUet e the worhl I aetna bUc. Ob. b tbou brave To bel aiMl wt . AM free men's bands ttnm every fetter. Yet know tbat e beery btteulneM I the grt factor la eii coses. Above all things. In Go4 believe. Ami la Ma lure tbat laets forever: So changeful frteful tbr heart lo irrhire I lie wbo will forsake thee aerer. Ik blae or ahower Ills bbMMitK dower Tbe soul tbat trnt with Mroag- endearer; Believe, believe, for faith la be, Jk iicic, aiit ami unbroken reet. MY UNCLE'S HOBBY. A Tale of Soloooe, Lota and Im ported Imagination. i. "Reginald," said my uncle, one morning after brukf$t, 'K(jih tl'Ay iiicourt is coming to My witk ug toworroH'." I spik tkut most yfMing fellows, but up in dull cotiHtry house, witk no compitiuoHH except a scientiHc uncle and a faded aunt, would have ben jk;&!ml by extravasrant dHrlit uton hearing of the approaching vk4t of a lrtcht Devonshire maiden. You will begin to understand the MnnaturalRe! of my KfcUioii wIm?h I tell yon that I wa not. At my uncle's announcement hiv heart ank like lead. The lear of hw hobbr km uikii me. "Her father was a tine knightly khiI," con tin hm! hiv unch, "and her mother wn ditiiictlv a clever woman. General d'Agincourt, her unck wa the liamleoiiiet man I ever saw. 1 am inclined to waive a certain ancestor in the maternal line, who- k reported to have been a valetudinarian and a tare; and as to MHt d'Agineourts great aunt. Lady Somen, wbo was undoubt edly a creature of weak intellect, there i a tni-tworthy tradition of a fall in tbe mirery, which will dipoe of the upK)ition of any hereditarv tainLM Tht remarks of mv uncle terrilied me- I waited anxiousU-, but I knew what wa WHiitng. 'faking his pipe from bk ltiH with that meilitative rtture whieh I knew so well, he proceeded: " Mv rerarche into the life hhHorv of the family have been, upon the whole, sat i.f actor v. I how iroose to devote seven davs to the analysis of tbe young lady herself. At the end of a week, if the result of my ob-iervations point in that direction, I shall ak you to pnM-e to her." 1 expected the blow, but it staggered me never! heie6. Argument, I knew, would be worse than useless. "But what to .she like, uncle?" I akcd. "She will be, a far a I can judge from my present data, of the syntketie ortter ot miml. lhat is ihv hoje. W'h ,ynthels. You're so confoundedly analytical; you haven't a spark of imagination in vour whole composi- "" inn was vour poor mower a fault." "But, uncle, I meant what is she like personally?" "She" 11 be handsome enough forvou. YOtl VOIlllcr ntaruA I'll tu Imiinit Itilt " it jiiuge ior yourseii lo-morrow. You can take the do cart down to Cromplon station to meet the five V W A- . o clock train. To-dav U Thurstlay; on Saturday week I will tell you if you way proiMwe to her." Mv uncle beamed benignantly, and troueu into tne ganieit. ii. . I lovetl no ona in the world better than I loved my uncle, the kind old fruardhm of my boyhood, but ever nce i iifMt arrlveu at man a estate i "ted in dread of his hobby. I was invinced of a sneaking tendency to the romantic in mv own disposition which would harraoniae ill with hw wlentifie plana for my future, ami J hrank from the trouble which I tnoujrht was sure to come between us 'hen the time cane for the practical forking out of his theories. To listen nd aent to his learned dissertation Blon heredity was one thing: to marrj Cirl hecaiiH the Inatch would dovetu with hia principles was quite "nothcr. As I drove down to Crompton the next day; I felt that I had alfi'ady conceived a deep aversion for "m yonug Iswly who hat been selected " fitting complement to wy exwtence. 'I'hn feeling lasted for half an hour. A xn as the train arrivetl, awl M'tm Agincourt stepped front her carriage, ' bt'gsn to relent; when I had introduced myself, and heard the music of "r alWt, 1 legnn to like her, and hcn I handetl her into the dog cart, 1 in love with kr. The rapidity of !y subjectbn am axed me, for although i hd always profemed to believe in w e at first sight, I had never actually realized the possibility of such an rmt happening to Myself. But how ffelt like a nswly awakened Crmou; ysoul suddenly expanded with the ot delicious senAHtioM I had ever jerifnce4l. 1 can not lecribe her. i "ever could understand how re attetnai Wrweduee m wetta the

NftNtehbM gree womaahoed. In. dMNl, to make an invewtorv of her ebarms would be mUOeading, lor it was not the acrmrate sum td berai-

traeUous which reMdertMl her so faseiRating, but rather the ever shifting play and variety of their eombtautions. In a word, she wa the most wiuniug young wonts I hMl erar seen. My dear uncle welcomed her with hk usual kindliness, mingled with a critical admiration delUrhtful to be hold. His hobby had never produced such fruit before! He was very at tentive to Iter during the evening, and indeed monopolised so much of her conversation that I eouhl not help feeling a little sulky, although I knew that his attentions to her were in my own interest. I knew that, while he was playfully drawing out her various tastes and proclivities, he mentally noted them down for his own purposes; and when I heard her quickwitted replies, I was sure that tihe must be finding favor in his eyes. Bat he had the true spirit of scientific investigation, and refused to anticipate. When we were left alone at night, and, brimming over with excitement, I asked his opinion of her, he only answered: 'Well, she seems a sensible girl, and she is certainly a pretty one. She has her father's eyes. Did I ever tell you the story of Philip d'Agincourt and the French marine?1' But 1 was in no nioml for listening to mv uncle s yarns, and hastily bade him good-night. During the week Miss d'Agincourt ami I walked and talked and rode and read together, and mv life was raided to a very high pressure. One look from those deep eyes could raise me to a state ox ecstatic happiness or plunge me into the depths of misery. How delightful were such possibilities in comparison with the monotony of mv previous existence! Is not love like Captain White's Oriental pickle. "a most delicious combination of sweets and .-ours?" I could not help fancying that Rose was "not altogether iiulifiVrent to me," as modest young men say in novels; but tbe uncertainty, and the alternations of hope and fear plagued me terribly, and made me un commonly glad when the Saturday ar rived on which mv uncle had prom ised to pronounce bis verdict What that verdict would be I had no doubt; for my uncle was evidently fascinated by the jrirl he had undertaken to ana lyxe, and I could hardly think that after the first evening he had the, heart to dissect her. in. 'Well. Reirnald." said mv uncle. smoking his after-breakfast pipe upon that Saturday morninr. "my ooserva tions of Rose d'Agincourt were soon completed. She is a good, honest, sen sible and practicable little woman." My ears thirled with delight. "Yei. uncle: and vou wish me to" "I don't wish you to do any thing except make yourself civil to the girl so long as she remains here, ui course l am rather disappointed that she has turned out so different from what I exltectcd, but we must look elsewhere. I don't mean to say that I regret her visit here, for she is a very pleasant soul to have about the house a de lightful little lHMiy. I think we have al erijoved her company." "But uncle." I gasped, "you said she is so sensible and good, and I am sure she is both. What objection can there be to herr I think one might go far ther and fare worse, 1 added, with foolish laugh. "My dear Inn," replied my uncle. taking his pipe from his lips and pro ceeding to mount his hobby, "she is an excellent woman, an admirable woman. She would make a capital wife for a poet or a novelist. I think of asking Tom Woodbird down to meet her. If I could marry those two, it would be a beautiful match. Of course I must give up all thoughts of mating her with a practical fellow like you, such a marriage could produce nothing lut the commonplace. You have neither of you one iota of imagination. It is a disappointment to me, 1 confess; for, personally, I like the girl very much, and every thing else is in her favor." I could restrain myself no longer; "Uncle," I cried, "I hope yen're not serious, because I I'm in love with her!" I thought you seemed rather smitten." sain my uncle, with the most aggravating coolness, "but the feeling will soon pass away. As for your being in love with her, even you must see that such a thinjr is isyehologically absurd. You know very well how often I have told you that "it is only the attraction of oppositcs which produce anvreal and lasting attachment. Now, there can not possibly be any such attraction between two equally sensible persons, like Rose and you." "I'm not sensible, uncle; I write poetry." "What!" exclaimed my uncle, bound ing out of his chair as if he had been shot. "Is that true, Reginald? That would alter the case indeed. But it's impossible. Some moralizing doggerel eh? Good, solid matter-of-fact, cut into longs and shorts. Ah, my dear Reginald, that isn't poetry!" Now, I was not a little vain of the results of my surreptitious courtship of the Muses, and these remarks chafed mo. "I don't mean to say that I hare written any thing first rate, but I hone it's better than vou suppose." "Well, well," said my unole, with that kindly incredulous smile of his, "bring vour verses to me to-night, and I'll look at them. And now go into the garden and play roquet with Knee." IV. Was ever budding poet placed in suck a situation? The happiness of my life hung upon the power of my verse. It was with feverish impatience that 1 opened the desk which held my little store of honey, and sat down to select a sample for uncle's palate. Dear me, what poor stuff it was! Surely I had known Mashes of fancy, and experienced the poet's frenzy, or could it have been only the frenacy for scribbling? With a sinking heart I chose three or four of my most cherished productions, and took them with me to shew to my uncle after dinner. When the ladiee had retired, I gulped

a ciaaa ef elareL and nrodueed

the MS. from my pocket. My uncle took them with a smile whiek really tried my strong afWctioa for hi hi, promising to look at them before bed time. lie had evidently no faith in my poetical genius. Koee was more fascinating that evenng than she had ever been before. She wng "My mother bid me bind my hair" with so sweet a manner that the tears came into my eyes. How I wished that I had expressed mvself bet terinthat "Ode to the Great Bear!" And yet I eherlshed a secret hope ef my uncle's conversion. Alas! 1 was doomed to disappointment. " i woman i wate any more time over this sort of thing," said the cruel critic, handing me back my precious Ma. "it snot in your line, my boy. Try trigonometry. By the way. my dear," he added, turning to my auat. " 1 shall lie glad if vou will drop a note to Woodbird, and ask him to oome to us on Tuesday." 1 hen I lost my temiier. I told my uncle that I had sworn by the nine gods to marry Rose d'Agincourt, and that nothing on earth should prevent my proposing to her, least of all a ridiculous subservience to crotchets that were all moonshine. She was the only woman I could ever love, and I would never marry anv girl to point a theory or adorn a scientific treatise. " You should not sjieak of science in that way, my boy," said my uncle, very gravel v. "When you sre older. you will see matters in anothor light;" I ..11 .1. , . aim nii my wrawi oroHe im vain upon his placid'front. Before I went to bed that night I was firmly resolved to propose to Rose the next day, "before that warbling idiot vtooubiru comes upon the scene, I muttered to myself. The next morning, however, brought less precipitate counsels. I felt that I could not offend my uncle. Not only was I to some extent dependent upon my guardian, but l was deeply attached to nun, and l was aware that the onlv proper course to pursue was to endeavor to alter his wish, the hobby must be attacked. After the pitiful failure of my poetic effusions to alter his opinion of nie. any further efforts in that direction would be useless. I longed to startle him with some wild and weird fictions of my creative fancy, but found myself mute unable to concoct any. And so I drifted on irresolutely, until Tuesday oame, and brought Tom Woodbird to stay with us. v. Woodbird was not at all of an un pleasant species of poet. He had not been soured by the vanity of human wishes any more than ordinary people who are unable to pen their aspira tions. He did not seem at all addicted to mooning, but entered heartily into every thing that was going forward. and, when "he saw how matters stood between Rose and me, he most honor ably refrained from any poaching upon my preserves. So much was I pleased with this delicacy that I resolved to take him into mj confidence. As he was a poet, a being "of imagination all compact," he would doubtless be able to imagine some scheme for attacking my uncle's hobby. I was not disappointed. It is true that he embraced the situation with an Olympian roar of laughter, which somewhat outraged my sympathies, until I remember the privilege which superior men possess of looking on the humorous side of things, and I did not uke offense. lie made very light of the hobby, and promised me that my uncle should be won over in a few days. "It is not the first time," he said. "that I have done battle with the subjects of Queen Entelocheia, 'ct militavi non sine gloria.' " The allusion to Rabelais was beyond me, but I had learnt enough Latin at Eton to construe the quotation from Horace, and felt much relieved at having secured so excellent a champion. What his plan of attack was he would not tell me, and he made me promise to leave every thing in his hands, and to wait patiently until the enemy surrendered. I can not say that I waited patiently, for I was burning with anxiety to know what would happen, but I refrained from any interference. The campaign was unexpectedly brief. On the very day after mv conversation with Woodbird, whilst t w indulging my melancholy in the garden, I saw my unole eoming towards me with a glow on hie face that made my heart leap. "Reginald," he said, laying his hand upon ray shoulder, and speaking in an excited way very different from a is habitual manner, "go at once and ask Rose to be your wife; she is in the conservatory alone. Heaven grant that she may say yes!" What were my feelings do you think? Oh, the joy, the uncertainty, the despondency! If she should refuse me? Ah, now I began to see upon what slight hopes 1 had built my foolish castle in the air! Never did a man prepare for a surgical operation certain to cither kill or cure him with more painful emotions than I went to put my fate to the touch. How it all happened I do not know. From the time at which I entered the conservatory to the time when Rose and I left it together swimming in a dream of mutual happiness, I can only remember distinctly my words: "Do you care for me?" and her precious answer: "Yes." We went to my uncle, who blessed us with tears in his eyes; there were not three happier individuals in the world. The afternoon glided away in rapture. The hobbv was forgotten; and it was not until the evening that 1 had any thought of gratitude to Woodbird, or curiosity as to the reason of my micle's sudden change of front vt. "You must give up writing poetry, my dear, when you're married, 1 said my uncle to Rose, as we were taking coffee in the drawing-room. "Oh, I could never write a line of poetry!" she answered, blushing. "Unclefor I must always call you uncle I see I must make a confession. Will vou ever forgive me? It was all Mr. Wood bird's doirtg. Those versee which I showed you this morning were never written by poor mel Did you really think that l oukt have written them? It was a little conspiracy between Mr. Woodbird and me. He wrote them for the (Jrmtmr MnMttt. and said ho

wa tod a perfectly unbU'ed opinion off

tnem, so i promisea ttrre mem to you without telling you who wrote them. bet pretending they were mine, as if I eould write noetrv! And 2 dkin't tell you, Mr. Woodbird, how pleeoed ho was with Utem. tie saw tney aewany showed what was it, uncle? 'sythetie imagination? Oh, you dear unele. did you really think I hod any 'synthetic ini agination r I'm afraM you will be so disappointed witk me!" conversion! I looked at Woodbird, who was sitting with a comical twinkle n his eve, intensely reitsmng the situa tion. As for my uncle, his faeo was a study. A battle was going on in nie heart between the hobby and his amotion for Rose and myself. Science and lore together puckered up his foe into the most grotesque complex expression of annoyance and satisfaction. But his kindly nature proved too strong for the resistance of his crotchets, and he submitted. He rose from his seat, and, f oing up to Rose, kissed her upon the ore head snd said: I shall never be disappointed with Jon, dear Rose. You have won my eart, as well as Reginald's." And so the hobby was vanquienea. When I told Rose the whole story, she was at first rather concerned at her innocent part in the conspiracy; for it sppeareu to tier ieminine sensuivenea a cruel thing to deceive my uncle in any thing, and she was not satisfied until lie had been informed of n oodbird's wickedness. But my uncle was so pleased with the result that he readily forgave the means by which it had been obtained, t ur marriage took place after a short engagement, and we nave taken up our quarters not tar from mv old home. We do not foreet when we are obliged to listen to the kind scientist's discourses, which become longer and more prosy as the years press over his head, that we owe all our happiness to ".My Uncle s Hob by." C. J. mliaon. t nomt tAiMe. VALUABLE LAND. KspelTe Meal Katnta la New Verk, Cbtraf e mm Other Large Citlea. "The most valuable land in New York City," said a real estate agent who stood one sunny afternoon looking at the heretofore vacant lot in front of the Grand Pacific Hotel, "ie used as a grave-yard. It is the Trinity Church lot, valued at $125 a square foot That would make each grave worth $2,000. I was in New York a few weeks ago, and so far as I could learn, the highest price ever paid for ground in that city was $101 per square foot for some lots on lower Broadway. The Equitable Assurance Company claim that its block, bounded by Broadway, Nassau, Pine and Cedar streets, is worth $112 a square foot, but I doubt if anybody would be willing to pay that much. 1 have heard of certain choice comers in Boston bringing $130 and $140 a foot and think it quite likely. In Chicago we haven't reached the hundred dollar mark yet, though there are corners which could not be bought for much less. This lot we're now looking at, 217 feet on Jackson street by 60 on Clark and Pacific avenue, cost the Phoenix Insurance Company $400,000, or $36 a square foot. "For 20x33 feet on the west side of State street forty-six fet north of Monroe, $75,000, or more than $15 a square foot was paid last summer, which is a good deal of money, considering that the property is not" a corner. Of course the value of the building (not very great) must be deducted. The We?t Side Railway Company paid about $42 a foot for the corner of State and Randolph, where their office is. I don't believe any ground was ever sold in Chicago for $50 a square foot, though there is a food deal worth more than that The 'rilmnt pays the school board S per cent on an appraisement of that corner equal to nearly $35 a foot, and I guess if if were offered for sale at $45 it would be taken in five minutes. Probably the most valuable ground inChicaSo is the southwest corner of State and ladison, belonging to the school fund. The corner. 48x80 feet, is appraised at $252,000, or more than $&5 to the square foot I think it could be sold for more than that; and there are other corners on State street worth quite as much. S. you sec we are not so very far bchit.il New York, and doubtless in ten years there will be more !;round in Chicago worth $100 a square oot than in New York. And just think, fifty years ago we could have purchased' a farm right around here where we stand for $90 or $40 an acre. Chicago Herald. m AN APE'S DEATH. Touching Scenes at tbe Deth-Me4 ef m Wrll-Hehared Menkry. In his recently published treatise on the anthropoid apes Prof. Hartmann, of the BerliH University, tells a touching story of a large monkey which belonged to the Zoological Gardens of Dresden. Mafuca, as she was named by Herr Sohopf, the director of the gardens, was a personage of polite manners. She would blow her nose with a handkerchief, put on her own boots, wring out the linen, steal keys and open locks. She had a cup of tea every morning and one of cocoa every evening, and at any time would fill her own cup or tumbler without spilling a drop suggesting at once a sense of Kopricty and of appreciation of the vcrage. Her death was quite pathetic. After some years1 experience of the climate of Dresden she showed symptoms of consumption; and, if unable to realise the progress of the dieease, she was quite conscious when it was drawing to a close. She would scarcely allow her friend. Dr. Schopf, who nursed her throughout her illness, to leave her sight When the end approached, feeling her forces ebbing, she threw her arms around his neck, kissing him repeatedly, held out hei hand to grasp his and fell back Hfeleee, UluMrnied Lmdm, Newt. The rabbit post m Kevada, which has aseumed such proportions as to endanger the stock ranges, Is the result of the wholesale slaughter of oeyete, wildcats and lynx. Chiem Mtrild.

A WELCOME OftAZE. j tOwalaaa Wajr m wMafc yaahlawabM

JW(sHBB(e(ww't BeewB' a JeHe There are eraoee and eraaee. Wo imitative ereatures, ana when a araao'eomee our way we welcome it and fondle it and rejoloe in it and go the whole length ml it with sigaifieaMt unanimity. Tbe poker that has for months turned the beads of half the population shows here and there a hopeful sign of, subsidence, and many of our women poker-fiends hare, happily, opened their eyes to the demoralizing influence of the poker table. The general bent f woman's mind is toward refinement and the glad alacrity with which the mass of women have dropped other eraaee and taken to their hearts tbe delights of tissue-paper flower making is something that ought to be celebrated. Take a walk through ten or through ten times ten streets and have an eye on the windows you pass. It makes no difference whether it be cottage or mansion that you observe in every window from which the curtains are drawn you shall see tissue-paper flowers. The fiery poppy abounds; tbe snow-ball flourishes; the rose of Juno peeps out at you; the hydrangea riots in clusters; you catch glimjises of water-lilies suspended from chandeliers or playing their pretty part on some modest window sill; and you somehow feel that nerer was a more rational scheme devised to employ a leisure hour. For a few cents and no apprenticeship of labor, no pupilage in art, the little child, the grandma of the cirele, and even the turbulent boys, may produce these pretty floral fictions and so contribute to the adornment of the rooms in which we live. Unlike some other crazes to which we have given our devotion there is in this no feverish and unbealthful excitement no bickering, no dispute, no loss of temper; and when we have devoted an evening to it we see some happv and pleasing results. The product is before us in forms of airy beauty so like creation's self that they have many times deceived the eyes of those not in the secret of their birth. Welcome the tissue-paper erase. It is an economical amusement in one sense an art. It appeals to the finest sensibilities; it teaches deftness of hand; it contributes to the eve's education in color; it stimulates a love for nature in her loveliest manifestations, and it enables us to gratify our friends with pretty and acceptable tokens of esteem without burdensome oost Dtlroil Free Pre9. MEXICAN PYRAMIDS. The Slanrelaaa KhIih N'ear the VUIaw el fa pa Ht la, Mexlee. The pyramid of Papantla is not buiK of brick or of clay mixed with whinstone, as are most of those in Mexico, but of immense blocks of porphyry, in the seams of which mortar may still be distinguished. The base of the pyramid is an exact square, each side eighty-two feet long, with a perpendicular "height of sixty feet Like all Mexican teocallis or places of human sacrifice, it is composed of successive stages, a great stair-way leading to the truncated summit Hieroglyphics and strange figures serpents, frogs and crocodiles are carved in relief on the faced stones of each story, while the iHinnre tftehes 5s ererr terrmw-, three , , i i . ... i i aunareu auu i.iv-m in nunivor, un given rise to a "conjecture that they may have had some connection with the ancient Toltee oaleadar. The twelve additional niches that appear in the stair toward the east perhaps stood for the twelve "useless ' days at the end of their cycle. This edifice is remarkable, not so much for size as for perfect symmetry, the polish of the stones and the regularity of their cut In his great work on New Spain, Baron Humboldt refers - tl anslnarrnf the hrfolr momiMARta of Mexico to" the temple of Belus, at I Babvlon. and the pyramids near Sak I hara in Egypt. Says he: " There are in Mexican pyramids "of several stages, in the forests of Papantla, at a small elevation above the sea, and in the plains of Cholula and Tetihuacas at elevations surpassing those of our passes in the Alps. We are surprised to see in regions most remote from one another, and tinder climates of the greatest diversity, man following the same model in his' edifices, his ornaments, his habits and even in the form of his political institutions!" Cor. Bottom TreumripL The Boy Hit Back. A school-teacher living not many miles out of the city does not now believe in reproving scholars for bad penmanship, having come to this concla tion last Wednesday. &aoa scaoiar was required to present a sample of his penmanship to the instructor for in- , epection. The last to band up his best endeavor" was a bright little six-'year-old who was very backward in this particular line of instruction. As i nsual his copy was very badly written, and the teacher, calling him to his desk, said: "Now, Charlie, you have again made the poorest showing in this class. It seems that you should be able to improve on this kind of work; why, when I was a boy at your age I could write almost as well as I do now." "Yes, sir," replied the promising lad, "I guess you could, but may be you had a better teacher' than I have.1' Son IKeeo (CM.)UnM An Artistic Grant Tablet. Mr. J. M. Kershaw, of St Louis, has presented to Mrs. Grant an ingenious bronze tablet commemorating the mil itary history of General Grant It is thirteen inches long, ten Inches wide and two and one-half Inches thick. In the center is a bust profile of the Gen eral. On the sides are shields repre ' seating the forty-nine States and Torntones. xoius arounu we eagea contain the names of the sixteen battles in which Grant was Commander-in-Chief. At the base is a medallion representing an Indian girl crowning him with a wreath. There-is a profuse ornamenta tion with flowers, rosettes, ete. mr. Kershaw WMI ecu pun! mhniLImi I m doing the work. Cniaojft Irtsnna,

PERSONAL AND LITERAHV. General Grant is to stand hT gran

ite on a twelve thousand dollar sol diet-' shaft to ho nut an at D. T. Jewett of St Louis, is said to be the only man who over served a, one day term" in she unwed states Senate. Colonel P. P. G. Hall, paymaster U. S. A., is said to be the only Hying descendant of Wllham Feaa m t country. Henry WaUersoa is ronorted U have sake that ho eould survive the obituary notices published at the Unto of his illness, but the portraits hurt his leoiings. Senator Joe Brown, of Georgia, has the most complete eoUoeUen of newspaper clippings in Washington. They are all about himself and his savings and doings. His wife is the edi tor. ietrott rrs J res. t Rev. Mr. Mllburn. the blind Chanlain of the House of Representatives, is a slightly built man of medium height with gray hair and beard, who walks about so confidently tbat no one at a distance would suspect aim to be blind. Rev. Dr. Hall, of the Fifth Avenno Presbyterian Church, in New York, has contributed to the Ledger a column article every week for ten years. He also writes for the aoy-SeAesf World and all tbe publications of the American Tract Society are submitted to him in the proof. James Parton writes in the I'run on newspapers. He puts on his foresight and through it the time when no reputable newspaper will print advertisements. Just so. If he will look again, he will tbe editors, owners and producers of such newspapers living upon the rich and rare west w yi d. Houston Poet. Mr. Crouch, of Randolph, Tenn., thoughtlessly became engaged to twe young ladies at the same time, and the father of one of them marched him to his daughter's house at tbe end of a shot-gun. There the young woman and her sister gave him a fearful cowhiding, but he finally made his escape and hurried off and married the otksf girl. Senator Bowen, of Colorado, recently said to a party of friends: "When I was elected to the Senate three years ago I was astounded to learn from the newspapers that I was worth between $5,000,000 and $10,000,000. The truth is, I have never had at one time a million dollars' worth of property in my life, though I hope to reach that figure before I die." A'. Y. Tr&tme. It turns out that Mr. Edgar Fawcett is the author of the anonymous story published some time ago under the title of "The Buntling Bali." Tbe publishers offered a prise of one thousand dollars to anybody guessing the author. So many people suspected Fawcett, owing to the turgid style, that the purse has been divided up, and the will only realise twelve and one-half cents apiece. Ckkmgo Timet. HUMOROUS. What interjection is of the feminine gender? Alas! Indianmpelis Herald. An exchange asks: What oan the Hindoo? Well, almost any thing is batter than idoliag stwaj hU time. GcrmsHtoum Independent. The waiter inferred that the guest had taken a little something before supper from the mere fact of his ordering "chork pops and tied f raters." Chicago MM. An Irish magistrate asked a prisoner if be was married. "No," replied the man. '"Then," replied his Worship, amid peals of laifcghter, "k is a good thing for your wife!" Grandpa: "Tell me, Ethel, why do you have six buttons on your gloves?" Ethel: "Yes, grandpa, dear, I will tell you. The reason is, if I had seven buttons, or five, they would not matoh the six buttonholes. f' -V. Y. Xil. A writer says that corporal punish, ment is no longer practiced by parents possessing common sense. This may be true in regard to boys, but we notice that girls are still brought up with a "switch." KorrUtown Herald. First Tramp: in that house?" 4 "Strike any thing 'Yes, I struck the old IUAIIi UQb HY Mil. JL . thing?" 'liot kicked out." "Perhaps he didn't know your family." "That's where you're wrong, lie said he knew them all. He kicked me in remembrance of three generations." BoUm Globe. "I don't know what you mean by not being an Irishman," said a gentleman who was about Hiring a boy, "but you were born in Ireland." "Och, Your Honor, if that's all," said the boy, i'small blame to that Suppose your cat was to have kittens in the oven, would they be loaves of bread?" Pittsburgh Chronicle, A Child's Definition. A child six years of age was asked by her parents to write a composition. "She asked on what subject she was to write; her father said, write about the goat The first sentence the little one wrote was: "A goat is an animal with four legs, one at each comer he stands on his hind legs and eats his dinner of paper off the fences." X. Y, Poet. "Does a person hare to be familiar with spirits who tells ghost stories, uncle?" "Certainly not my little chap, why do you ask such a question?" "Well, don't you know, 1 thought they did, and I came to the conclusion, if that was the case, you could spin lots of yams for me, for mother said the other night that yoy had toe much to do with ardent, spirits." The uncle at this juncture indulges in anothor clove. Motion Budget. A poor Irishman had a little shoemaker s shop, in which for many years he plied his trade, earning an "honest living. One day he was amased to see on the opposite side of the street a sign which road: "Mons. Lafarge, shoemaker, just from Paris." He was very indignant and felt that monsieur was treading en his grounds. The next day he came out with a ign which road: "Pat Connelly, shoe maker; never taw Paris, but oometitk.,