Ligonier Banner., Volume 14, Number 1, Ligonier, Noble County, 24 April 1879 — Page 3

The Ligonier Banner, LIGO;\II-ER, : u:» :m: ;m;;II;:ANA.

CREEPING UP THE STAIRS. IN the softly-falling twilight Of a weary, weary day, 1 With a quiet stgP I entered: Wkere the children were at play; 1 was brooding o’er some trouble, . That bad met me unawares, When a little voice came ringing, ** Me is creepin’ up a stairs.” Ah! it touched the tenderest heart-string - With a breath and for%e divin®, And such melodiés a.wag‘ ned As words can ne'’er define; And I turned to.see our darling, - All forgetful of my cares, When I saw the little creature : Slowly creeping up the stairs. Step by step she bravely clambered *On her little hands and knees, Kee"f:ng up a constant chattering Like a Dag Die o the trees, Till at last she reached the togn}ost. When o'er all her world’s affairs She. delighted, stood a victor, After creeping up the stairs. ! Fainting heart, behold an image ' Of man's brief and struggling life, Whose best prizes must be captured v With noble, earvest strife; Ouward, upward reaching ever, . Bending to the weight of cares, / Hoping, fedring, still expecting, We go creeping up the stairs. 7 On their steps may be no t, s By their side may be no rali. ‘ Hands and knees may often pain us, And the heart may almost fail; Btill above there is the glory Which no sinfulness impairs, With its rest and joy forever, After creeping up the stairs. . - : —Anonymous,

: 'CZAR AND SKEPTIC. : S ' . [T Hls very bright and characteristic sketch of Russisn ways, and French - ways and phraseologies, is none the less worth reading because it was first printed before now.] . . It wasjin 1829. Government diggatches affirmed 'that Diebitsch’s army ad achieved a great success, and that Silistria was in their hands. But ofticial news is not always implicitly believed when, and where unofficial newsmongers are gagged. - ““Holy Russia forever! the troops are in Silistria.” : ¢« Before it, Batushka, you mean to , say.” : ; ' ¢ Before it! inside it; I say what I mean.’’ : ¢“llnside it! outside it, under correction still.’! _ : ; ¢« Corréction you may well say; I repeat it, inside.”” " ¢« And I repeat it, out.” *l'have seen the dispatch.”” - “What, the Government version?* . “The Government to be sure.”” Tk Not-hin% less sure, I assure you.” ‘“What! Less sure than the Govern- " ment story?”’ - ¢« All stories may be told two ways.” ‘““But one way is true, the other false.”’ : . ¢“Precisely, and I mistrust the - latter.” . A - i “,But the real truth is, the troops are e 3 ¥ i

‘“The real truth is, the troops are out.” ‘e In, I Saiy-” » s Ot § suy."” | ' And so on, ad infinitum. : In private saloons, in clubs, in cafes, at table d’hotes, on 'Change, and on the Perspective Nevskoi might such wranglings have been heard. In the Gastinoi-Dvor, and in the vodki shops, there was more unanimity; the ‘¢ black people’s” wish was less doubtfully father to their thought; with their unquestioning as well as unquestionable Eatriq;tic prejudice , Holy Russia must ave won, and Diebitsch must, for cer-. tain, ‘be holding Silistria for the Gos-! sudar, for our Lord the Czar. : There was a ‘French gentleman, Monsieur De la Jobardiere, shall I call ‘him? whose mistrust of official bulletins had, perhaps not unreasonably, grown with his growth. Russian Invalids, Norther Bees, or whatever may have been, in 1829, the accredited organs of the Imperial Government, were to his mind so many miserable imitations of his native Monsteur, the feebleness of whose inventions, however, as compared with those of that great Gallic organ of mendacity, consisted not in the absence of mendaciousness. Monsieur De la Jobardiere was himself, very much spilt, ¢ {res repandw’’ in certain sociai) circles of St. Petersburg, to borrow an image from his own vernacular ; and thus it came to pass, that being gifted, as is not unusual with his fellow countrymen, with a congiderable flow of words, he was enabled to spill the ink of denegation far and wide upon the spotless page of these same disputed G%vernment dispatches. = - : e

““Hold it to yourself, for said my ood friends,” he would insist; ¢ Your éovernment wishes to throw you the powder in the eyes. It is one ‘canard,’ one duck; how you say? This great news of Silistria. That poor sir of a Diekitsch, he kicks his heel, what ? ouside,still ; and the Turk be safe and snug inside as one rat in a cheese, eh?”’ Now, De la Jobardiere had his enrees in ‘“ saloons (fiplom’atic,” as he would himself have said ; and was altogether a man who, chatterbox as he ‘was, might yet be supposed to have access to certain channels of authentic information, at which the vulgar of St. Petersburg mi%ht not easig slake their thirst for information. His constant and confident affirmations of the falsehood of the victorious intelligence were not without a certain effect within the radius of his own social *¢ effusion,”” and perhaps beyond it. ; : Monsieur De la Jobardiere was a precise and somewhat ornate dresser; he was a chilly personage, in' spite or because of his longish residencé in the northern~capital; he was also somewhat of a gastronome, particularly as to the quality and regularity of his meals; he was, moreover, a sound sleeper. J i So sound, indged, that the heavy boot-tread of a feldjager, that'hybrid between a police officer and a Government courier, failed to break his slumbers on & certain night; nor was he aroused from them until that functionary’s rude hand had shaken his shoulder for a third time. Thereupon he started up to a sitting Eostur‘e and unclosed his ‘eyes, which closed afain with sudden gunk,‘ at the glare of the antern, which the feldjager’s other hand almost thrust into his face.

‘‘Look sharp, sir!”’ said that official, £t and come along.” ; ‘“Come along, indeed! ° You. are pleasanting, my good fellow,’”’ quoth the sleer Frenchman. . ‘“Well, then, izjou won’t,”’ retorted the ruthless invader of his slumbers, ““my orders are positive,”” and he transferred his paw from the shoulder to the throat-band of Monsieur De la Jobardiere’s night-dress. , ““Laissez domc, grand brutal,®: exclaimed that 'worthy; ¢‘let me at Jeast get on my pantaloons,”” and he inserted his feet into the slippers by the bedside. Ge i

~ But by “fatality,”” as he alwayssaid, ““my Cossack of a domestic, Ivan Pe‘trovitch, had assisted at my dishabille, and had taken my clothes out with him to brush before I should rise ‘of great ‘morning’ the next day.” ¢ Let me ring my domestic, at least,” ‘he inquired of the stolid feldjager. ‘“Ring bells and resist authorities!”’ he %rowled; ‘‘come, come, Sir, none of that.” And again his rough, red, ha.iry,;l)la.w was busy in proximity with the white throat of the finicking Frenchman. ¢ Quick, march! and not a word, or——" i ‘But it is unheard of; it is an infamy, a barbarism, an indecency.”” . The scowl darkened upon the feldjager’s unprepossessin(? countenance; it was more than evident that expostulation and. entreaty were alike in vain. :

< Happily that I lose not my presence 'of mrind -in this terrible crisis, and, draping myself hastily in sheets and blanket, and eider-down quilt{ I yield to destiny and follow that coguin of a feldjager down stairs, gentlemen; my ‘faith! yes, down stairs to the porie‘cochére. There what find we? A ‘telega, kibitka, tarantassa, what do I /Jknow? Some carriage of misfortune at ‘the door, with its own door open, eh?”’ It was even so. The n‘i%ht was very dark and, foggy; the rays from the car-riage-lamps added to the gleam of the feldjager’s lantern, gave but a dim light after all; but, such as it was, its scintillations were reflected from the steel scabbards, spurs and horsebits of a mounted Cossack on either side; and dark amid the darkness, the open car‘riage door yawned after the fashion of a tomb. : ;

¢ Oh! by example,”” once more did De la Jobardiere attempt to remonstrate, turning round, ‘* here is what is a little strong. Do you figure yourself that Lo : :

He had one foot wpon the carriage steps already, and one hand on the handle by the doorway; a muscular grip seized his other elbow. In an instant he was hoisted and pushed forward in, and the tail of the quilt was bundled in after him; and he felt that some one had vaulted on the front seat outside. : ‘ ; :

*“ Houpp la!” cried a hoarse voice; and three cracks of whips like pistolshots made answer; and with a plunge and a bound the carriage darted onward. He could’ hear the splashing gallop,: through the slush and mud, of the mounted trooper, on the right hand and the left. ;

¢«I try tke windows on this side, on that, in front, and I am quits of it for my pain. No means! I scream, I howl, I cry, I threaten that pig of feldjager that must hear in front. The Embassy French shall have reason of this outrage! .When Itell you there that I am not one of your Mationals, but. a Frrrench! Hear yon? ‘A Frrrench! Animal that you are! Imbecile of a Cossack, go! A Frrrench, then, I tell you, eh? Senseless!—l pass to entreaty. Hear then, Ivan, Stephen, Nicholas, Sergius! My Corporal, my Sergeant, \my Lieutenant of Police! Here is one billet of bank, thatis tosay, net here, but there; in the pocket of that pantaloons, at home on the Morskaia, you comprehend.. A billetof twen-ty-tive rubles; of fifty; of a hundred, say, how? , : ¢« Again useless. Not a word; not a sién; he makes the deaf ear, that ¢ polison de la police’ outside. ‘lt is stronger than me. lam transported again of rage, of despair. I strike of the fist, of the foot, of the head at last against the panels of that carriage atrocious. Derision! My efforts desesperating abut to nothing. That minion of & despotism brutal mocks himself well of his a.goxg. I have disarranged my drapery; and currents of air from the underneaths of doors give my legs trances of cold. ‘¢ There is no remedy. I envelop myself once more of my eider-down, and resign myself to destiny. I compre- | h‘end at last; all i_s l‘ost _‘for me. 1 see

‘the boulevards and the Champs Elysees } no more. Adieu, belle France! Ishare the fate of g prisoners of the Muskowa, the d€Btiny ingrate of the Olds of the Old. No means now to mistake one’s self; I am en route /fﬁr the Siberia. I Unhappy that I am! If &t least I could have come in pantaloons.’’ , | Even those tlt)mt have traveled them under more auspicious circumstances than the luckless De la Jobardiere have borne witness to the terrible condition of the Russian roads between late autumn and early winter. Bolt and ‘bump, and thump and crash; swing to this side, and swaying to that; with one wheel vch;iﬁ'nin% the liquid mud in & rut 1 as dee’g as the felloe, and the other ap- | parently revolvin?in the empty air like ' the windward paddle-wheel of a seagoing steam-packet in the trough of a rolling wave. Then a pitch and toss, fairly up and down, stem and stern, as if over a chopping sea, but petrified. Endless were the miseries endured by the victim inside the closed °mi“§f'on cushions of which the hardness did not fail to make itself felt, even through such folds of eider-down as could be. spared from the protection of the lower limbs from the penknife-like currents of air which came through the doorchinks.. ‘How the feldjager kept his hard perch outside was a marvel to the man in his custody. = ' «'They must have strapped him with a leather, or corded him to the bench for sure, that . detestable Cossack,’’ phoufht. De la Jobardiere, 'when he could spare a thought from his own deplorable condition. How long this voyage lasted he never was able to calculate. He lost all account of days in his excitement of agony and of despair. ‘l'he same chinks which let in the aerial currents did indeed tell sometimes of diurnal .revolutions; for

at one time they could be seen to admit some life-giving rays, at another time only felt, thanks tothose keen draughts which they admitted. There were no stoppages, except such momentary delays, fabulous in the shortness of their duration, as were necessary for the busy-fingers of experienced post-boys to harness the horses, which were always to be heard neighing and snorting in readiness as they dashed up to the relays. : There was a sort of little trap or window, unglazed, however, in' the front panel of the carriage, through which the red and hirsute paw put in a ration of brown biseuit together with a little flask of vodki, and a mug of water now and then. P

¢“Un affreux brule-gueule que ce vodki, messieurs, one terrible burnthroat worse as the ¢ wiski’ of the old Ireland, eh? Sometimes, of night, too, for it make a black of wolf, ‘ un noir de loup,’ as we say in France, he just open, half ogen the carriage door, this (‘ossack, and putin one bowl of ¢stchi,’ with a spoon. Do you know what that is, one ‘stchi?’ A soup of cabbage, butwith such seasonment! A ragout of barbarous, I tell you to make a scullion cry! Well, Iso hungry, I eat it, I devour it, I lick the spcon. Imagine you, I, De la Jobardiere, who was other times redactor, editor, what you say? of the Journal of Gourmands of Paris.” : ‘

On, and on, and on, through the darkness, mitigated or unmitigated by the kindly admissions of the chinks; on and on, till all reckoning of his time was utterly confused. ; But:all thinFs have an end on earig here; and at last the carriage came a dead stand-still, with its half-dead passenger inside. : It was at least as raw and as cold, as foggy and disagreeable a night as that of the departure from St. Petersburg. when, for the first time, the carriage door was opened wide. Right and left stood a tall figure, indistinet in gray capote, with flat muffin-cap to crown it; but the reflected lights ran up the barrel of a burnished musket. In the open doorway of a house, whence a red glow as of a cheerful fire came streaming out, stood another martial figuyre, in cocked hat, with feathers, and the green uniform with aiguillettes of an Aid-de-Camp. He raised his hand to the cocked hat in question after the military fashion of salute. ' ¢« Deign to descend, monsieur.’’ “] am then at Tobolsk?”’ L ¢“Of none, monsieur, to the cantrary.” . ‘ ¢ Where then? at Irkutsk®” ¢ Still less, monsieur; pray give your3elf the trouble to descend.”’

| “I am hardly in that costume,” objected De la Jobardiere, ‘‘for that brutal of a feldjager—"’ | ¢« Obeyed, I have no doubt, his orders to the letter; pray, monsieur, deseend,’” insisted the plumed Aid-de-Camp, with impertyrbable gravity. F | ‘l')Th‘ig then,g;: at last Siberia?’ | ‘¢ Siberia, monsieur, by no manner of means.”’ : o “ But where on earth, then, have I the misfortune to find ‘myself—excuse me—the honor to make your distinguished acquaintance.” ' | ‘I have the distinguished honor,” said the staff officer, unwilling to be outdone in politeness by the Frenchman, ‘“tc receive monsiéur at the grand guard of the headquarters of His Imperial Majesty’s Army in Turkey, within the enceinte of the Citadel of Silistria »’ ¢ : _ . “Peste!” exclaimed De laJobardiere. ‘1 begin to comprehend.” ‘¢ Possibly,”’ quoth the Aid-de-Camp. ¢ May I once more trouble monsieur to descend.” . This last word was in* a [tone ‘which admitted of no trifling. i With a mournful consciousness of the ludicrous-appearance he presented that almost overpowered the weariness, the anxiety, the indignation which possessed him, De la Jobardiere stepped out of his flying prison van, and followed the Aid-de-Camp into the guardroom. There, by asolid deal table, stood the feldjager, whose snub-nose and scrubby red mustache were henceforth impressed indelibly upon his captive’'s memory. An- officer, whose bearing and appearance would, without the stars and medals upon his breast, have given to the mostcareless observer indication of high military command, was reading a dispatch apparently just handed tuo him by that functionary, the envelope of whic{ he had thrown carelessly upon the table.

** A son Exc. | : _ Le Marechal Dieb—" ‘ wag all that in his confusion De la Jo- ‘ bardiere was able to spell out. ... | ‘“Monsieur De la Jobardiere, I presume?”’ said this officer, with a glance of inquiry but of perfect gravity. ‘‘ The same, Monsieur%; Marechal,” faltered the owner of the appellation. ‘“What _officer has the grand rounds to-night?”’ he 'next inquired, turning toward a group of officers in the background. ; ' - ¢ Major Razumofiski,of the Orenburg artillery brigade,” answered one .of‘ their number, with the accustomed salute. | ¢*¢ls he mounted?’ : ‘¢ And at the door, General.”” :© ° ‘“ Let one of his orderlies dismount; and let Monsieur De la Jobardiere have his horse.” . : *¢ But consider a little, Marechal, this costume—or, I may say, this want of it—" st . *ls no doubt a regretable circumstance, sir; but orders, sir, superior orders; excuse me; the grand rounds sbould be started—you will be good e'nmigh' to mount, and to accompany the Major.” ; . There was no help for it; that stolid feldjager was holdin§ the dismounted trooper’s nag at the door with unmoved countenéance. Ug‘on the lessimpassible trooper’s own Tartar physiognomy, ’}howﬁever, was ;something like & grin. A frown from the feldjager suppressed it, as poor De la Jobardiere scrambled into the saddle,and endeavored to make the best arrangement of the blanket gossible to keep the damp night air: rom his bare shins. The quilt he cluteched conyulsively round him with his right hand, while the left tugged at the bridle of his rough and peppery litle Baschkir steed. It has a very wide enceinte that Fortress of Silistria; and the Major likewise visited several outlying pickets. He rode at a sharp

pace from post to post, and the roads, streets and lanes were execrable. -« Equitation is not my forte, you know, my good friends; and a Tartar trooper’s saddle, that is something — oh! to be felt if to be known. It was one long agony, that nocturnal ride. I thought it a little thing near as long as that desolating journey of jolts to Silistria. Day was beginning to point, as we drew uponce more to the guardroom door.”’

The Frenchman shuddered on perceiving that the carriage, with nine. horses harnessed tbree abreast, stood there as they rode up.. : *‘The Marshal,”” said the polite Aid-de-Camp, his first acquaintance, ¢ bids me to express to monsieur that he is desolatetf not to have the opportunity of offering to monsieur such poor hospitality as the headquarters of a c¢aptured fortress can afford. But monsieur will understand the importance of taking ¢ to the foot of the letter,’ as his countrymen express it, instructions—superior instructions, he will comprehend. The military code upon such a point is absolute. And [ have the honor,”” with a significant festure toward the gaping carriage door, ‘to wish monsieur a bon voyage.” - Bang went that odious door again; again was the weight of the clambering feldjager felt to disturb the equilibrium of the carriage for a moment; a%in did the hoarse voice shout, ‘““Houpp la!” again did the three whip-cracks emulate the sharp report of pistol shots; again a bound; again a plunge; again the ca.rris.%)e darted forward; and again might be heard through slush and mud the splashing gallop of the trooper right and left. Why let the tale of De la Jobardiere’s misery be twice told? All all ‘was the same as before. The bumps, the thumps, the bolts, the crashes, the pitching, the tossing, the swaying to and fro, the currents of air, the darkness and the struggling rays of light, the bits of brown Eiscuits, the sips of vodki, the occasional bowls of stchi —all were repeated—all, as before, jumbled and confused together in sad and inextricable ‘reminiscence.

But when the carriages stopped again for good, and when its deor was once more opened wide;* the portico was loftier and the staircase of wider sweep than at De la Jobardiere’s own’ hotel door on the Morskaia. It was night again, and it was again damp and cold: and foggy; but a clear illuminstion rendered unnecessary the lantern ot the feldjager or the glimmer of the carriage lamps. Within the doorway oa either side stood, in full dress uniform, two non-commissioned officers of the famous Preobrajenski Grenadiers.

- A gentlemanin a full-dress cut-away, with black satin tights and silk stockings to correspond, with broad silver buckles in his shoes, a chain of wide silver links round his neck, a ‘silver key on his left coat-tail, and astraight steel-handled sword by his side, bowed courteously to De la Jobardiere, and begged him to follow him. up stairs. Treading noiselessy upon velvet-pile carpets, he led the way through a spacious ante-room, into an/ apartment where all the light was furnished by a lamp with a ground glass shade, which stood upon a bureau strewn with books and papers, at which a stately figure in undress uniform was writing busily. Although its back was turned, the breadth of loin and shoulder, the length and upright carriage of the back, the powerful butl graceful setting upon the neck of the well-formed head, all revealed at once and beyond a doubt to the astonished Frenchman in what presence he stood. . The usher advanced, bowed, spoke a word at the stately figure’s ear, bowed again, drew back and left the room. The Czar wheeled round his ehair, half rose and made a diguified half-bow. Poor De la Jobardiere folded his eiderdown around him and made a profound obeisance. i e

“ Monsieur De la Jobardiere,” said that august personage, with just the least suspicion of a smile curling the. corners of his Imperial lip, ¢“1-am informed that you Eave recently visited Silistria.” An obeisance deeper and more dejected. ' , ¢ Had you there, may I inquire, an ogportunity of visiting the citadel and of inspecting the military gosts i A third obeisance, in the deep a lower depth. = : ‘ ‘¢ And you found them in full occupation by our Imperial troops? May 1 request an answer expressed explicitly?’, ‘ I found them so, Your Majesty.” ¢ Ah! that is well. Not but what I myself had full confidence ir Diebitsch; ‘but people will be soskeptical at times. Would you believe it, there are rumors current that even now in certain salons of St. Petersburg the taking of Silistria is doubted in the teeth of the dispatches?’’ : . o : - What could ‘the hapless Frenchman do but bow down once again. « However, I am glad to have unofiicial and independent testimony from an actual eye-witness. You are gertain the Marshal is in undisputed military possession?”’ : - ¢+ am certain of it, Yoar Majesty.”’ ¢ Thank :yon, Mons. De la Jobardiere; I will not detain you longer; I wish you a good evening.”” Agd turning round to his desk again, hi au%?st interlocutor touched a little bell. The usher appeared again, and with the same courteous solemnity of demeanor showed Mons. De la Jobardiere down SIS e :

An Aid-de-Camp camie tripping down just as: the Frenchman’s foot was on the carriage step. : : : «Mons. De la Jobardiere,” he said, ¢t you are an old enough resident in St. Petérsburg to know that- there are occasions on which it is wise to be discreet about State affairs. But I have it in. command from - His Imperial Majesty to inform you that as you have so recently yourself had occasion to visit Silistria, there can be no possible .objection to your stating in general gociety that éyou found ‘the citadel, the fortress, and the city garrisoned by His Imperial Majesty’s troops.”’—Dublin Unmiversity Magazine. :

¢ —Miss Pella M. Robbins, a teacherin, the Plymouth, Mass., ;Lublic schools. for twenty-five years without losing a day from her duties by sickness or %&d weather, has just resigned.

9 i = 5 . Youths’ Department. HIDING FROM PAPA.. : Papa'slost his baby! . 1 Searches everywhere, | ; Under chairs and tables: With the greatest care! Pulls aside the curtain, - Peeps behind the door! Never sees the little heap s Curled up on the floor. - Never hears the whisper. ; ** Mamma, don’t you tell!’ Nor the little laughter, = | Mufied, hke a bell! = " Off he scampers wildly, : OvH:tnﬁn‘ h%ere a;:& ;tfel:e. erturning everything, : With the greatest care! _ - QOanary has a visit : al Sitting on his perch, . Mamma's apron-pocket : Suffers by the search! | “ Now lam so tired— ; Elephant at glay—ﬁ That I must take a rest - » ﬁ&hmm' ute by thehg., YV My Weary - __On this little rug.’ Under mamma’s towel, 3 Lay her darling snug! - : Then the merry scramblings ' Papa laughed to see! ' - . * Andyou di%n't fink, now, That it could be me!”’ : —Mrs, B. N. Turner,in Youth's Companion,

- MELLIE’S MUD PICTURE. | LrrTLE NELLIE was three years old. She had been sick nearly all winter, and was almost as thin as a shadow, and almost as white as a snow-drop; ‘and she could eat just about as much as the little gray kitten. When the spring sun kissed the snow all away, and the little birgs sang to- the grass and - flowers until they awoke and tnrust up their tiny green hands from the ground, and, feeling the pleasant warmth, strai({;htway began to grow, Dr. Alger said to Nellie’s mamma: ¢ Mrs. Brown, we must turn this little girl out to grass in the front yard and in the garden, just as the farmers turn out their lambs, and ecolts, and calves, you know. You must bundle her up, give her a little wheelbarrow and shovel, and let her dig up the flower-beds so they will be ready for the seeds. In a little while she will be as hungry as a pig and as plump as a robin, and as brown and merry as a chi\?-spa.rrow.” ; ellie’s papa was the minister, and all the people in the village were glad to see the little girli out to play; and, as they passed the door-yard and stopped to see her a minute, they told her so. If anyone passed léy without sgeakingto her, Nellie would call after them, ¢“l'm pittg well, fank you; I 's’pose you're glad.” :

One morning, as she saw many people going by, she thought she would g 0 somewhere herself. So, a little while after, as Dr. Alger was driving down past the great foundry, he heard a little piping voice calling, ¢ Dr. Aller! Dr. Aller! I eated two good baked 'tatoes thix morning.” : “Iélalloo!" said the doctor, ¢ how came you here?”’ ¢Oh, I fought I'd walk out and see if there were any more little ‘girls turned out to g’sss.’’ ‘ '- ‘“Well, well, Iguess that will do for this morning,” sail the doctor, swooping the little girl wp into his chaise, and taking her home just As her mamma was about to raise the neighbors to help hunt up a “‘lost child.” l\? ellie was told she must not run away again; but she forgct, I suppose, and, I am sorry to say, would slip away every day, and sometines two or three times a day, for a long sime. She would go to the carriage shop around the corner and draw home 3 baby wagon every chance she could get. She helped herself to a hat at the milliner’s, and filled her little apron with white shiny onions at the Erocer’s. She was talked to and punished; the yard gaie was fastened; she was even tied up;but she would say, piteously, ** What you p’ague me so for? My papa buys fings, and Nellie wants to buy fings.”” - ‘ One day, Mrs. Brown was expectin% company to dinner. So she calle Nellie in from the garden, and curled her hair, and put on her best -white dress and blue sash and slippers. Then she said, ‘¢ Now, little Nellie girl, while mamma is dressing you may tgo out and walk on the veranda wi dyour nicest doll; but you must not go down the steps, remember.”’ v e Pllp’member,” said Nellie; and she walked up and down the veranda hugging her dolly, and singing: . **Mamma’s darling Nellie girl, Rosy cheek and dancing curl.”

Soon the visitors came, and for a time Mrs. Brown was very busy. Just before dinner was ready, she went to call Nellie; but the little girl was nowhere to be seen—neither u(;) the street, down the street, nor around the corner. Mamma, papa, Bridget and the guests all forgot the dinner that was in wait‘ing, and ran here and there in anxious ‘search. At last the minister found his little girl in a vacant lot, across the common, at play in a mud-puddle, with the buteher’s big black and white wa-ter-spaniel for a companion! *“ That is a gicture!” said Mr. Brown to himself; and, running to the car of a traveling Ehotographer nearby, he had him turn his camera that way, and, lo! in a minute the absorbed little girl, ‘dog, dirt and all, were made into'a real picture. ‘ ; ¢ Color it up well, and bring it over to us as soon as you can,” said the minister to the man, as he ran toward his little daughter, who called out as soon. as she saw him, ¢ Oh, gapa, see! I am ’joying the warm wedder;”’ and she held up one little bare foot and leg covered with mud. ‘*‘l buried my boo shoes and ’tockings in a hole ’cause twas all mud. I buyed a hole at Mr. Cdpen’s, and Carlo he tolded me to walk in the water wif him; and I gived him my boo sash round his neck, 'cause 1 fought he'd feel bad ’cause 1 was dessed up so.”’ : i %T ellie was dressed for company, ‘and it is rude to keep dinner .Waitins; so come right along, my little girl,” said the minister, lifting her u;gm the veranda, where mamma and Bridget and all the company were assembled, with her bare foot, muddy hands and face, and frouzy hair. | e ¢ Oh, dear! I must be made ready for dinner, . Papa Brown,” moaned Nellie. e : A

¢+ You were made ready for dinner,” said papa, setting her in the great willow chair., ;

“I can t eat a mouful of dinner Pm so mor’fied,” sobbed the little girl. Just then the man came up with the picture, and the roar of the laughter that went up when it was handed around amonglhthe com;f)anj{ was the last drop in'Nellie’s cup of trouble, and she burst out and cried as if her heart wouldbresic. 7 el # “If you'll put the naughty mud picture away; papa,” she said, *‘l will never, never run away again; and I’'ll always| 'member, too!” ~She did remember, and she kept her word.— Mrs. A. A. Preston; in 0’:"&8 tvan Register. -

¢“Bimeby.? - - T'HAVE a little friend whom we all call ¢ Bimeby,” because he alwayssays, ‘‘ By-and-vy,”’ when he is asked to do anythin% He will . get up by-and-by; he will learn his lessous by-and-by; he will bring in wood for his! mother, or go to the store for her groceries by-and-by. Gridiel e e - A great many troubles come to him and to his friends from this bad habit of putting off his duties, and not long ago, it was the cause of a very serious misfortune. B i ‘ One morning, when the ground was covered with ice, little *‘Bimeby’s” mother said: - Lo ' : ‘“Jack, I want you to sprinkle some ashes on that icy place by the back dogp.”! - .. o : ‘“ All right,”” said Jack, ¢ I'll do it by-and-by.”” e G ““ But you must do it right off,””" said Mrs. Harris; *‘ somebody will f2ll there, if it is neglected. - o aen “Yes, mother,” and‘*Bimeby started off to get his sled that he had lent to the boy next door; thinking that five minutes’ delay could not make much difference. . S Just about that time, Mamie, Jack’s four-year-old sister, begged to go out and play in the yard. - “.ﬁ is so shiny out,”” she said, I guess it’s most like summer. And mebbe I shall find a fower peeping up somewhere.”” . sk Sneod ‘ So- her mammy put on her little rubber boots, her warm cloak, .and hood, and mittens, and .let her go out with her tiny sled. iual Poor Mamie! = She clambered down the steps, laughing and cooing to herself, and talking about the ‘‘fowers.” But all at once she uttered a: loud ery of fright and pain. She had slipped upon *‘‘Bimeby’s"” ice and broken her arm.: : it Then came the surgeon to torture the little soft, fair arm, and long days of ‘weariness followed days of great care and anxiety for the household, and all because one careless boy put off obeying his mother for a few minutes. One day when Mamie lay asleep, and Jack sat sadly watching her, Mrs. Harris said some very sexious words to ¢« Bimeby." = b s “If I could take my choice,” she said, ‘‘lwould rather beblind, orlame, or deformed, than to be#ander the control of the habit of ‘putting off.~ Such a habit steals away the very best of life; it mixes up our work and our pleasures, till there is no good result from either—till we do nothing and enjoy nothing. And I need not tell you that such a habit makes endless troubles for all our friends. Think of the suffering you have caused your little sister.”” Gar g e The tears rolled down Jack’s cheeks. “I know you- do not mean to make trouble and sorrow,” added the mother, ‘“but you always will until you learn to do every duty at the right moment—that is, at the first moment possible.”’ S e e “““Bimeby’’ tocdk the lesson to heart, and his friends hope that they will soon have reason to change his name to ‘“Right-off.”’ — Central %’hﬁstian -Advocate. ¥ A s erhein G

A Beautiful Experiment. PErRBAPS some of the‘bO{lsand girls may be interested in the following experiment. It is-easily performed, and will %ive some idea of the manner in which crystals areformed. Remember that the solution is a poison, and must be kept where it canpot possibly be taken through mistake. s o Procure from an apothecary half an ounce of sugar of lead, sometimes’ cailed lead-acetate. Put this into a wide-mouthed bottle, an empty horseradish bottle will do well, and "fill the bottle . nearly. full ‘with water. When the sugar of lead is all dissolved, push two or three’d.pieces of copper wire into the cork, and let them run down into the liquid in the bottle. ~ Bend the lower ends into hooks, and hang on them a small piece of sheet-zine, taking care that it touch all the wires. After the bottle has stood for a few hovrs; cx:}ystsals of lead form upon the lower ends of the wires. Theserapidly increase, and soon the entire -bottle is filled Wwith beautiful fern-like crystals. - Looking\ carefully at them;, the branches are all formed to start out at the same angle, thus. showing that the force which produced themacts constantly in the same direction.— Chicago Standard. . : 5o : A Check for One Cent. : TeE Washington correspondent of the Philadelphia TWmes writes: ‘¢ Geo. C. Gorham closed his accounts as Secretary of the Senate, on Tuesday. After eleven years’ service, during which he has disgursed many millions-—for the- - States. Senate is the most expensive legislative body on earth—he closes his account for the first time. It was found at the department that there was one cent owm%:nm., , Insno??hl letter, which had tob jeo{)]ied, recorded, numbered, ete., the United States Treasurer notified Gorham of the balance on settlement, and requested that. he would draw his cheek for the. amount.’ ‘With'the same precision as though $1,000,000 ‘was at stake the chegﬁ was drawn. A messenger conveyed it to the Tressury. . The books were searched to see if the amount was. to Gorl:;n‘a ¢r_,edit;~a‘l§&thenﬁtha cent was paid—a great big copper ome, whioh Gorham proposes to keop for - luck forever. 1t seems m&Wmt drawn the jbﬁ&h“ nee, it would hay ?01*9 = ‘on forever among the liu%ﬂiﬁ!;p of ~fhg‘ : l Treasury, and ocoasioned auy amount of trouble to the clerks.* = .