Ligonier Banner., Volume 14, Number 6, Ligonier, Noble County, 29 May 1879 — Page 7

The Ligonier Baner, R STOLL, Editor and Proprietor. LIGONIER, : :. :. INDIANA.

UNCLE MBLLIOK DINES WITH | HIS MASTER. |

Oov’ mg.mte'r ip a cur'us man, as sho as yo’ is POXAI | g I's wukkin in de crib one day asshellin’ o’ some corx, An’ he was standin’ at de do’;—l “knowed it”? no sah, not! G Or, fo’ de King! dese jaws uv mine, I'd sh’ly kept 'em shot. . g But to Bru. Simon, shellin’; too, whatidhould I 7 do butsay: S “I's starvin’ sence I lars has eat—a week ago today. " § T i Den marster cussed and hollered: ** Here's a shame an’ a dusgrace! . e I, so lolng 8 planter—a starved nigger on my place! ¢ y o Come, Mellick, drap dat corn an’ walk straight to; de house wid me; o i A starvin’ nigger on my place’s a thing shall nebber be.” S

~ ! 1 i “* Hi! me éat long de white folks, sah?” * Yes, : Mellick, take a seat.” < # Den ‘to missis:: '* Dis starved nigger I's done * fotch to make 'im eat,”’— ‘ An’ he drawed a big revolvar an’ he drapped it by he plate— ; £ ** Gub ’im soup! an’ ’'twixt de swallers, don’ lemme see yo' wait.” : . Dat soup was fire; {tell yo’, an’ I hide it mighty 3001 ;— 3 = ~ One eye sot on de pistol an’ de turrer on de Sl PO : ; ¢ Fish for Mellick, in_a hurry, he’s a-starvin’, -don’t yo' see?” Ly (Dem mizable house-niggers tucked dar heads an’ larfedgtmess - - 0 e “An’ I went for dat red-snapper like de big fish for de small;— st Glarnced at de navy-shooter onct, den swallo ered bones an' all. - : :

*Gub ’im ‘tucky, ham an’ aigs, rice, faters, spinach, sparrergrars. ] Bread, hom'ny, mutton, chicken, beef, corn, turnips. apple-sars, , ; Pease, cabbage,”aig-plant, artichoke’—(Dat pistol stilljin view, ‘ An’ de white folks dey all larfin’, an’ dem silly : niggers, too)— . o * Termaters, carrots, pahsnips, beets”—‘ When is he gwine %u done?")— - ‘ * Squash, punkin, bears an’ kercumbers—eat, Mellick. don’t leabe none; ol For dis here day’s done brung to me a shame - an’adusgrace;— : ; 1, so lopg a‘_’planter ~g starved nigger on my piacel g o

Dem things éf I'd be'n by myself, I'd soon put 7 out o’ sight; ‘ But de ct{xtm’cal sitiwation dar, it spilemy appetite: i “ 1 had {otvéms?le wid dem wittles hard enough - dat day! ! o %'l'il_l ** Now champagne for Mellick!” I heard ¢ olemarster say. s v When dat nigger shoot de bottle by my hade~— : I's sho'ly skeerd: - e | Dat stuff it look so b'ilin’ hot, to drink it I wuz feared; i : But arter I'd done swallered down a glars, I - |- feel so hine, = - o . I ’gin de sitiwation not so very' much -to SRS < o 8 An’ de&i ka listle restin’ spell I sorter tried to e, i Bug de old marster hollered: ** Gub ’im pud- _ din’, pie an’ cake!”— et —Wid he han’ upon de pistol an’ de ebil in he _eye—- ¢ An’, Mellick, down wid all!—onless yo' is pre“L < par'd to dis.”

I hurried home dem goodies like I hudn’t eat dat day; ; i Tell marster see I couldn’t pack anoder crumb away; £ Lo ¢ An’den he say: ' Now, Mellick, to de crib, git up an’ go! | i . | An’ de naix time [yo’ is starvin’ come to me an’ lemme know.” - - fit d But, my! fm dat ar bizniss I kin nebber show ‘ my face;— - el i > An’ dﬁs nebber been anoder starvin' nigger on de place! : : —J. B. Eggleston, in Scridner for June.

CAPT. COLE’S PASSENGER. : | BY JAMES PAYN. EVERYONE who uses the gre‘at steam ferry between Liverpool and New York knows. Capt. Cole, of the Cunard Line. I don’t say anything about his seamanship, because I know nothing about it; but he is said to be the very best of the . Commanders of that company. My own acquaintance with him has been solely on shore; because when at sea I © am never -in a condition to -make acquaintance with anybody. There are some folks whose sea-sickness *goes off’ | after a certain number of days. I can only say that I should like to know: the number. * It has never ‘“‘gone off” with'me during even the longest voyage between this country and the United States, or vice versa. Perhaps it would ‘“go off'” if I extended my travels to South America, but 'my impression is that I should go off first. o I hate the sea. For certain réasons, however, I am compelled periodically ito cross the Atlantic, and on the first . occasion I had a letter of incroduction to good Capt. Cole. We shook hands; . the screw began to move, and I.rushed ! to my cabin, where I remained throughout the voyage. 1 believe he came to ~ see me very often in my misery. ¢ Visiting the sick’’ at sea is a much more unpleasant thing than on shere, rémember, but/ I didn’t know, and I didn’t care. I saw him—to know him again . —at New York; and in_short, though. - -on board his ghi%) Lé ‘might have'been . its rudder, for all I saw of'him, we met on shore both in the New and Old World pretty frequently. | He entertained a colossal contempt for the land and all belonging to it (except his fe&ow-gre'ature,s), which amused me vastly; but especially for .its modes of locomotion. Cabs, coaches and omnibuses were all in his eyes senseless ‘and dangerous; and :15 to get- - ting astride a horse, I don’t believe any sum would 'have induced him to attempt it. He. had a certain .respect, however, for an express train. or rather for the engine of it, which, flying ~ through storm-and sleet from startinggoint to terminus, reminded hiwm peraps of his own gallant ship. -~ .~ | As we had hardl}y a thoughtor a topic iin comgnon, it was natural that our i social intercourse took a narrative . shape. Itold him stories (which, as he had never read anything, had the merit of novelry), and he reciprocated with yarns. I.was foolish enough at first to su%ﬁest a_channel for his recollections—shipwrecks, of the récords of which, as a tborq‘ugh-,goin'g landsman, I was naturally fond. *‘Sir,”” he said, drawing himself up, and getting very - red in the face, ‘‘you fo_l;get.th t go‘u_ jare talking to 'a Captain of aCmra;r er. What do wd know about ,phi’gwrecks? Howeyer,”’ he added, more benignly, ‘“‘there ' was one occasion when I : thm(zight th?e spell of our company’s good fortune was about to be broken, : _aind that I should be the eritter to do Jor iR e 3 oy fedon :

‘lt was several years ago, and in the summer time, that the ship was making her vo%age out, and a very good voyaﬁe. he whole way the sea’ had been like a duck pond.?’ i ~ Here I shook my head incredulousg. I had seen the Atlantic lit{:he, conition referred to, and feltit.” |

‘« Well, I should not perhaps have said ‘the whole way,’”’ he admitted, with a smile, *for when we were about, one hi}éired miles from land we met with a-breeze of wind.” : » The Captain always talked of a ‘“ breeze of wind,'’ just as some shore folks talk (though with less tantology, for sherty is not always wine) of “a glass of sherry wine.”” = - ° ‘

T remember the breeze, because we picked up a little sailing boat with only one man in her, and very short of provisions, who had been blown out to sea, and whom we took on board. About half an hour after that incident I was informed ‘that one of the passengers wished to speak with me in private upon a very important matter. Accotdingly he came to me in my cabin, a little thin wizened man looking like a tailor, whom I hardly noticed as being on board; indeed he was insignificant enough in every way save for the expression of his face, which certainly exhibited the most intense anxiety and distress of mind. Of course 1 thought he had been drinking, and in fact was on the verge of ¢the jumps,” which is what the Yankees term delirtum iremens. . En ;

¢ ¢ Well, my man, what 1s it? said [ severely; ¢we shall soon sight land; I have no time to throw away.’ - " ¢ ¢«That is very true, Captain,’ he answered, in & thin, quavering voice, and with a strong American accent, *but your time will be even shorter than gousima.gine unless you listen to what have got to say to you. You will never see land, and much more make it, if you are not prepared to act at once on the information I am about to give you. Neglect it, and ‘your ship will be at the bottom of the sea in'—he looked at his watch—¢yes, in-exactly an hour and a half.” . ; :

¢ ¢ All right, my man,’ said I, ‘you may go. I'll send the ship’s doctor to look at you;’ for of comrse I thought he was wandering in his vits. ] ‘‘Then what had seemed anxiety in his face became mortal fear—genuine abject terror such as no actor could haveimitated. He threw himself upon his knees, and, clasping his hands together, besought me not to treat his words with incredulity. - ; : ¢« ¢Then why, sir,” I replied, ¢do you talk such nonsense abaut my ship? ¢t <Because it's true, Captain,” he groaned. ‘There’s dynamite on hoard, and cloeckwork machinery connected with it. Asl am a living man, if the thing is not at once looked to the ship and all on board of her will be blown to atoms within the time I have mentioned.’ ] : ¢« At this I confess I felt a cold shudder down the nape of my neck, for not three months before the very catastrophe at which he hinted had taken place at- (I think) Bremerhaven, apd had struck terror into all ships’ (iptains like,” myself. Some infamous villain had insured a vessel very heavily, and had taken means for its destruction on its voyage in this very manner, only the infernal machine had burst on the quay, killing scores of people, and its inventor with it. |

“¢Good heavens, man! tell me all,” I cried, ¢and quickly.’ gt : ¢ ¢«Nay, but I daren’t, and ‘I can’t,’ he pleaded, ‘unless 1 have your solemn promise that you will never betray me. I know that you are a man of your word, and that will suffice for me. You wmust promise, whatever may happen, never to allude to the conversation that we are now having, or to make use of it in any way to the disadvantage of myself or others.’ ‘< Well,” said I, ‘I promise. Now, where is this cussed dynamite ?’ ; ¢¢ ¢ One moment, Captain. There is still time and to spare, now, since you have listened to reason, and I must prove to 'you that though T once hearkened to the whisper of the devil, I repented, al}d would have undone the mischief if I could. This ship is in-. sured in London—never mind where and how—for a huge sum, and 1 have been employed to sink her. I brought the machinery, set ‘to this very day (for you have made the voyage quicker than was thought possible), down to Liverpool in. a small portmanteau which was sent on board the night before she sailed. It was a stipulation that I should sail with you to see that nothing interfered with the execution of the plan. But 1 swear to you, no sooner did I touch the deck than I repented. I wanted the package placed in my own cabin—ask your own men if it was not so—in order that I might have some opportunity of getting it thrown overboard in the course of the -voyage. They had a.lrgady, however, put it below—where, indeed, it was intended to go—with the other baggage. It’s a small portmanteau of bullock’s ‘hide, and they might as well have let me have it in my cabin.’ : . “The dread had passed away from the' man’s woice directly I had given my promise that no barm should happen to him. He had doubtless -every confidence in the clockwork machinery, but that, of course, was not my case. ; ~ “““Come up on deck, you scoundrel,’ cried I, ‘and identify this infernal thing.'? Einad : e % set twenty men to work at once to bring up the v,h:Fga.ge-- on the deck, } which, since we had not yet even sighted land, astonished them not a little. ‘¢ Quick, quick, my good fellows; there will be extra grog for you,” I said, ¢ if you turn the things out within the hour.’ gy Wi

*‘ The passengers who had not been across the water before thought it a. natural thing*enough, perhaps, but n&y officers imagined I had gone demented. There I stood with this Yankee tailor (as he looked like) by my side, who, though he affected to be quite unconcerned, kept a sharp eye on everything that came up, and was to let me know by a nod when we got to the dratted thing. . The luggage of a Cunarder is no joke in point of quantity, butin | quality it varies more perhaps than any similar collection to be found anywhere else. There were arks, belonging to fine ladies, large enough to go.to sea in; chests that contained clothes and tools of emilgmnts;» dapper portmanteaus of gentlemen touring for pleas-. ure;*bags of' carpét-baggers that had. no other luggage nor property on earth; .hampers?ﬂ of English fare to astound the natives of New York; and photograph cases ‘_sme],lin-;g of nasty stuff for twenty feet round ’em. i

¢« won golden opinions from the ladies, through my being so very particular, and calling out, ‘ Gently, gently; handle ’em smart, my ‘men, but be careful not to shake ’em,’ which, of course, was put down to my carefulness of their precious possessions, whereas I was thinking of the dangers of - dynamite, which explodes, you know, by concussion. That blessed portmanteau, as it happened, was at the very bottom of all—a mangy, illlooking thing enough, and, though small, as heavy as lead. ‘Now, just throw that.overboard, my fine felows,’ said I, ¢ will you, and be careful not to knock it against the bulwarks.” ¢« Nobody, of course, questions the orders of a ship’s Captain when at sea —and over it went with a splash; but I saw the First Mate Took at the second, with an expression that conveyed he's mad,’ as clearly as if he had given words to it. It was this circumstance, combined with the sense of complete security from the awful peril that had threatened us, that for the first time put it into my mind that I had been made the victim of a hoax. If it had been so, I verily belieye I should have thrown the little tailor after his portmanteau; but when I called to mind the face of the fellow when he first came into my cabin, I could not quite believe that. However, I took an opportunity of speaking to him once more alone. ¢Look here,” said I, ‘you unmitigated thief and villain; there’s one point in your story that wants clearing up. Your life is not very valuable, it is true, but I dare say yon yourself put a very fancy price upon it, and, that being so, how could you take personal charge of amachine that, according to your own agcount, was to blow us all to splinters—how comes it, Imean, that you were on board with it yourself?’ W : ¢« « Well, Captain,’ he replied, ‘you see, 'm a poor man, and the money was a good round sum; and, as I told you, my employer insisted on my seeing the thing was going right with my own eyes; there was a risk, of cousse, ‘but the fact is, arrangements had been made for meeting me in this very latitude. The man in the boat whom we took on' board was on the lookout for me, and it was agreed should take me off the ship.’ :

¢ ¢«What! did he know about the dynamite, too?’ I broke out; *is’it possible that there was a third villain, beside you and your employer?’ - ¢« +Well, yes, Captain, I’'m afraid there was; but you can’t touch him, you know, without touching me, and you have passed your word that I shall not be harmed. Beside, you must remember that’l might have got off and clean away, leaving you all to bust up, if it had not been for the extreme delicacy of my conscience.’ : ‘“ There was a sly smile about the fellow’s mouth for which I could have wrung his neck, but for the safe conduct I had given him; his whole manner as weli as the expression of his face had changed, now he had got his way; and instead of a villain who had renented of a great crime, he looked more like a successful schemer. <« However, the dynamite was overboard, thank heaven; we were nearing land; and I had other things to talk about. : ‘

~““When we were still some way from harbor we were met by a police-boat, the chief officer of which demanded to be taken on board to speak with me. “<Hullo? I -said, when we were in the cabin together; ‘no extradition business, I hope? There is no murdering Englishman among my passengers, is there?’ o : ¢« «Well, no,” he answered; ‘but I've reason to believe there’s a citizen of the United States-who weuld neither stick at murder nor anything else.’ - “Then I thought of the dynamite, of course, and rejoiced that the villain had been discovered without any betrayal of his secret on my part. ‘¢ You have a warrant for his apprehension, I conclude?’ . ‘“<Well, no, Captain; that’s just my difficulty, for I don’t know which man it is; but I've an- order to sedrch the luggage. Information has come by wire that a whole plant for f_origing American bank-notes is being importe by your ship; it willnot be down below, but in the-man’s personal luggage in his cabin.’ : ‘I smelt a rat at once, and I dare say looked pretty blank and bamboozled. : A ¢¢ ¢No one has left the ship simce you, started, has there?’ inquired the officer, anxiously; ¢there has been a small boat hanging off and on the harbor, and we have reason to believe that this man’s confederate may have had a hint by telegram——" g : ¢ <No, no,’ interrupted I, ¢ everybody is on board that sailed with us;’ and I might have added,. ¢ and one more,’ but I thought he might just as well find that out for himself. I didn’t want more peopie than was necessary to know that I had been made such a foolof. W

¢‘According to my instructions,’ continued the officer, ¢ the plant is contained in a portmanteau of bullock’s hide, with brass nsiis round the rim, and therefore easy recognizable.’ - “Inodded, for indeed myself recognized the thinﬁ from his description very readily, ad I not told them to be very careful with it, and not to knock it against the balwarks, and seen it dropped overboard with my own eyes, thus making myself anaccomplice in the escape from justice of a Yankee forger! ' Ay vk MR i

¢ Of course the officer didn’t find the ‘ portmanteau among the ‘personal luggage,’ though I am bound to say he ‘ looked forit very carefully, and secandalized some of my saloon passengers not a little by his unwelcome attention; nor was it among 'the larger articles, though they all lay exposed on the deck, as if for especial behoof and inconvenience. His impression was, he said, that his ¢ informvation,’ as he called it, had been incorrect, and that the bullock hide portmanteau must be coming over in the next ship; which I said was possible—because everything is (Féssible, you know—though, I own, I did not think it very probable. .. ‘“As to the owner of the article in .question, he contrived to keep out of ‘my way, and slipped out of the ship on ‘the yery first opportunity. His story .was 8o far true that he had intended to keep the thing in his cabin, to - be, got

quietly on shore, only the steward had objected and caused it to be taken below. That information had beer tele%ra.phed from England to the New ork police, and was known to his confederate, who had come out to warn him, and they would. no doubt have saved me ull trouble by dropping the portmanteau overboard themselves, only it was among the other luggage. How to get it out and dispose of it without discovery was the problem they had to solve; which they accomplished by means of the dynamite story.”’ :

FACTS AND FIGURES. ; THE heart beats 100,000 times in twenty-four hours. Sl 'THERE are about 70,000 more males than females in San Francisco. s Ax Italian firm has ordered a supply of 100,000 tons of coal from the United States. [ : OF the 20,000,000 acres of land in Ireland, two men own between them 282,198. L B e ONE HUNDRED AND EIGHTY-THREE cotton-mills have been built in the South since the war. BostoN had 563 fires last year, destroying buildings valued at $144,195 and their contents * valued at $259,256. A PUBLICATION of the navy list for 1879 shows that, out of 1,668 officers, more than half ¢‘stick close to their desks and never go to sea.” : Four-rirrHSs of the gloves made in the United States are manufactured at Gloversville, Fulton County, N. Y., where a population of 25,000 find profitable employment in the industry. OrrICIAL documents show that the ratio of deaths per one thousand persons employed in KEngland is lessin coal mining than in the navy by drowning, and one half less than on railroads. . - THls year 796,140 men will be called out to do military service in France. The number will be distributed as follows: To the aective army, 479,100; to the reserves, 144,570; to the territorial army, 118,000. : THE total exports of bacon and hams from the United States. for the month of April last were 57,321,524 pounds, valued at $3,952,366; fresh beef, 5,384,687 pounds, valued at $477,881; beef salted or corned, 3,130,331 pounds, valued at $205,429; pork, 8,871,888 pounds, valued at $525,752; lard, 35,917,004 pounds, valued at $2,490,101; butter, 1,809,156 pounds, valued at $244,130; cheese, 4,479,587 pounds, valued at $270,747; tallow, 7,413,009 pounds, valued at $£525,310. Total value, $8,691,716, against $10,096,747 for April, 1878 .

BETWEEN 1857 and 1876 the value of imported aad cereal food consumed in Great Britain rose from £35,000,000 to £110,000,000, about one-half being represented by wheat; in fact, it seems that the half of every loaf eaten in England is made of foreign wheat. One point which has not béen fully noticed before is that to-day the use of food derived from animal sources has very much increased in England. Thirty years ago not more than one-third of the English people consumed animal food even once in the week. To-day nearly all of thexﬁ use it at least once every day. Now, ten years ago the United Kingdom produced nine-tenths of the meat and’ dairy produce which was eaten, but last year three-fourths only were made, the other fourth coming from abroad. .

L Nonsense. “A LITTLE nonsense now and then is relished by the best of men,”” says the rhyme; and who is there so morose as not to ‘echo the sentiment? In fact, nonsense is one of the most popular things in the world, is more effectual to medicine a mind diseased than drugs, and the man who can administer it with discretion is the man after our own heart—the man who is smothéred in invitations to dine, who is never left out in the cold, who makes friends and conquers enemies with a bonmot, and is welcomed at every fireside. No doubt there are unfortunate people, with no sense for the ludicrous, who go through life without appreciating a joke, and regard the nonsense in which others indulge as an unaccountable weakness, which Providence may forgive, but which obliges one to entertain discouraging views respecting the development of the human species; but to the majority nonsense is the condiment that seasons and assists in the digestion of sobér sense. If all work and no play make Jack a dull boy, so all sense unleavened by nonsense makes him a dull man, and the biggest one society affords. A little nonsense puts people en rapport with each other, opens the door for intima.cy, sets the embarrassed at ease, bids even Dignity come down from his pedestal, and pushes Gravity off his balance, communicates a feeling of goodfellowship, and is as fine a tonie for languishing conversation as quinine for a weak stomach. It is no sign of a frivolous soul, 4s some who are incapable of nonsense would infer, nor of a mind of narrow compass, which can perceive only .the comical side of any thing. = It lubricates the machinery of ‘every-day living and thinking, estab‘lishes a sort of freemasonry among peo‘ple of differing opinions, that they may ‘meet on common grounds. without fear ‘of friction. The greatest minds have }understood its power, and have not ‘despised its aid; and although there are ‘those who prefer Sydney . Smith’s wis‘dom to his wit, yet it is his delicious }_nonsense_ that endears him to wus, and ‘renders his name a synonym for humor. Are not Shakspeare’s comedies the delight of the laughter-loving world, 'w%ich ‘would devote all tragedies to oblivion rather than suffer comedy to lose a grimace? In short, it is almost a vital necessity. that the sober com-mon-sense of the world should be tempered and a.lloyed with a few grains of ‘nonsense. No one would prescribe an overdose, to _be sure, though it is the healthy mind that can absorb the great-‘ est amount; to weak perves and disordered braingit is only rhodomontade, with nothin% exquisite to recommend it. Yer, if it were not a remedy for ennui, and a charm. ﬁﬁ‘ﬂh&t the evileye, Punch would lose his reputation, qulumbine and Pantaloon would com- | mit suicide.—Harper's Bazar. =~

9 Youths’ Department. DEW DROPS. Tae dew drops on the grass Stay but their little hour— . Soon from: our sight they pass; But leaf and opening flower i Have greener, brighter grown, - For every vanished bead; ] Rach glistening, short-lived drop Hath filled some pressing need. Some little, growing bud, Some reddempiz berry’s core, Some'drooging plade or leaf The sun had smitten sore, Hath felt the gentle touch , : Which strength or healing brought 8o that no tiniest drop Hath ever been for naught. Each little word we speak; ; Each lLttle deed we do, If but the heart be pure, } Hath mission just as true. | Be words sincere and kin«’ Be deeds without a stai. Then word, and deed, and life, Shall not have been in vain. : : —Child’s World.

' A SECOND TRIAL. , It was Commencement at G—— College. The people were pouring into the church as I entered if, rather tardy.. Finding the choice seats in the center of the audience-room already taken, I pressed forward, looking vo the righ and to the left for a vacancys Ont very front row of seats I found one ; Here a little girl moved aloge to make room for me, looking into my face with large gray eyes, whose brightness was softened by very long lashes. Her face was open and fresh: as 4 newly-blown rose before sunrise. Again and again Ifound my eyes turn--ing to the rose-like face,’and each time the gray eyes moved, half-smiling, to meet mine. Evidently the child was ready to ‘“ make up’” with me. And when, with-a bright smile, she returned my dropped handkerchief, and 1 said““Thank you!” we seemed fairly introduced. Other persons, now coming into the seat, crowded me quite close up against the little girl, so that we soon felt very well acquainted. I . “There’s going to be a great crowd,”’ she said to me. “Yes,” I replied; ‘ people always like to see how schoolboys are made into men.”’ e Her face beamed with pleasure and pride as she said: g ‘“*My brother’s going to graduate; he’s going to speak; I’ve brought these flowers to throw to him.” _ They were not greenhouse favorites; just 'old-fashioned domestic flowers, such as we associate with the dear grandmothers; *“but,” I thought, ‘they will seem sweet and beautiful to him for little sister’s sake.”’ ““Thdt is my brother,”’ she went on, pointing with her nosegay. ) “The one with the light hair?’ I asked. ; ¢“Oh, no,” she said, smiling and shaking her head in innocent reproof; ‘““not that homely one, with red hair; that handsome one with brown wavy -hair. His eyes look brown, too; but they are not—they are dark-blue. There! he’s got his hand up to his head ‘now. You see him, don’t you?” In an eager way she looked from me to him, and from him to me, as if some important fate depended upon my identifying her brother. . ..

‘I see him,” I said. ¢ He's a very good-looking brother.”’ ‘“Yes, he is beaatiful,”’ she said, with artless delight; ‘‘and he's so good, and he studies so hard. He has taken care of me ever since mamma died. Here is his name on the programme. He is not the valedictorian, but he has an honor, for all that.”’ I saw in the little creature’s familiarity with these technical college terms that she had closely indentified herself with her brother’s studies, hopes and successes. ; : : st He thought, at first,”” she continued, “-that he would write on the ¢ Romance of Monastic Life.’ ”’ ; What. a strange sound these long words had, whispered from her childish lips! Her interest in her brother’s work had stamped them on the child’s memory, and to her they were ordinary thin%s. ' ‘¢ But then,”” she went on, ¢he decided that he would rather write on ¢ Historical Parallels,” and he’s got a real good oration, and he says it beautifully. e has said it to me a great many times. I ’most know it by heart. Oh! it begins so pretty and so grand. This is the way it begins’’ she added, encouraged by the interest she must have seen in my face: ¢ ¢Amid the permutations and combinations of the actors and the forces which make up the great kaleidoscope of - history, we often find that a turn of ¢ Destiny’s hand—" "’ ; «“Why, bless the baby!” I thought, looking down into her bright, proud face. I can’t describe how very odd and elfish it did seem to have those sonorous words rolling out of the smiling infantile mouth. ; : j

The band, striking up, put an end to the quotation and to the confidences. As the exercises progressed, and approached nearer and nearer the effort on which all her interest was concentrated, my little friend became excited and restless. Her eyes grew larger and brighter, two deeg-red spots glowed on her cheeks. She touched ‘up the flowers, manifestly making the offering ready for the shrine. . ¢ Now, it’s his turn,” she said, turning to me a face in which pride and delight and anxiety seemed about equally mingled. But when the overture was played through, and his name was called, the child seemed, in her eager‘ness, tglforget me. and all the earth begide him. She rose to her feet. and leaned forward for a better view of her beloved, as he mounted to the speaker’'s stand. 1 knew by her deep breathing that her heart was throbbing in her throat. I knew, too, by the way her brother came up the steps and to the front, that he was' trembling. ‘The hands hun% limp; his face was pallid, and the i{)s blue as with cold. I felt anxious. The child, too, seemed to discern that things were not well with him. Something like fear ‘showed in her face. : . | i 1 He made an auntomatic bow. Then a bewildered, stmigling look came into his face, then a helpless look, and then he stood staring vacantly, like a somnambulist, at the waiting audience. ‘The moments of painfvils* suspense went by, and still he stood as if struck

dumb. ‘I saw how it was; he had been seized with stage fright. i Alas!little sister! She turned large, dismayed eyes upon me.* * He's forgotten it,”’ she said. Then a swift change came into her face; a strong, determined look; and on the funerallike silence of the room, broke the sweet, brave, child-voice: = .. «¢ ¢« Amid the permutations and combinations of the actors and, the forces ° which make up the great kaleidoscope of history, we often find that a turn of Destiny’s hand —'”* = - S - Everybody ‘about. us turned and looked. The breathless silence; the sweet, childish voice; the childish face; the long, junchildlike words, ‘produced a weird effect. e R * But the help had come’ too late; the unhappy brother was already staggering in humiliation from the stage. %‘lie band quiekly struck up, and waves of lively music were rolled out to cover the defeat. .= ' S : I %a.ve the little sister a glanee in which I meant to show the intense 'gmpathy I felt; but shedid not see me. Her eyes, swimming with: tears, were - omn her brother’s face.. 1 put my arm aro her. She was too absorbed to hged the caress, and before I.could apreciate her purpose, she was on her way to the shame-stricken young man sitting with a face like.a statue’s. | - . When he saw her by his side, the set face relaxed, and a quick mist came into his eyes. The young men got closertogether, to make room for her. She sat down: beside him, laid herflowers on his knee, and slipped her hand in his. .. - S et I could not keep my eyes from her sweet, pitying face. - I saw her whisper to him,she bending a little to catch her words. Later, I found out-that she ~was asking him if he knew his ‘¢ piece”’ ‘now, and that he answered yes. = ‘ When the young man next on the list had spoken, and while the band was playing, the child, to the brother’s great surprise, made ' her: way up the stage steps, and pressed through the throng of professors and Trustees and . di‘stipg'uished visitors, up to the college Presadent. '+ 3 , o - ¢ If you please, sir,”’ she said with a little- courtesy, ¢¢ will you and the Trustees let my brother .try again? .He knows his piece now.”’ A : : * For a moment, the President stared at her through his gold-bowed spectacles, and then, appreciating the child’s petition, he smiled on her, and went down and spoke to the young man who had failed. - e So it happened that when the band had again ceased playing, it was briefly announced that Mr. —— —— would now deliver his ‘oration—* Historical Parallels.” - : e ¢«¢ Amid the permutatiqns and com--binations of the actors, and the forces which make up the great kaleidoscope of history——""" This the little sister whispered to him as he'rose to answer the summons. .- ... ' - A ripple of heightened and expectant interest passed over ' the audience, and then all sat stone-still, as though fearing to breathe lest the sseak_’er mi:%ht : again take fright. No ‘danger! The hero in the youth was aroused. He went at his ¢“piece” with a set purpose to conquer, to. redeem himself, and to bring the smile back into the child’s tear-stained face. ‘I watched. the face during the speaking. The wide ‘eyes, the parted lips, the ~whole rapt being said that the breathless audience was forgotten, that her spirit was moving with his. S e et And when the address was ended' | with'the ardent abandon of one who | catches enthusiasm in the realization that he is fighting down a wrong judgment and conquering. a sympathy, the effect was really thrilling. That dignified audience broke into rapturous applause; bouquets - infended for the valedictorian rained like a tempest. And the child who had-helped to save: the day—that one beaming little face, in its pride and gladness, is something to be forever remembered.—Sarak Winter Kellogg, in St.- Nicholas for June. . Teno i S

-+ A Debtor’s Deviee. A GENTLEMAN of San Krancisco has devoted a, great part of the time he has spent on the Pacific Coast in contracting bills, which he does not find could be conveniently paid when due. Hav=" ing lived in California since ’59, and being - what: .is called ‘“a generous liver,” he has numerous creditors, and the sum of his debtsis respectablylarge. Some years afo he determined to at~ tempt the gradual payment of .all his liabilities. © Endowed with a fine sense. of justice, it. puzzled him. to decide : upon a plan of liquidation that would be fair and equitable to all. his creditors. After a loniconsideratio.n- he hit upon a method which he found entirely satisfactory. He explained his plans’ the other day to :one of his recently-"acquired creditors. - A bill was presented him with ‘a request for immediate payment. He took the account, and carefully check- - ing all the items, and footing up the long column of figures; | found all cor- - rect. - Then he quietly and néatly folded up the bill and :filed it awayin& ' pigeon-hole marked * W.". Tuming | to his waiting creditor, he explained as follows: *¢Mr. Williams, it will be some time yet before your bill wilk - come up in the regular -order, but you may depend .upon ~my attention. ‘Some yéars ago I adopted an alphabet- . ical system of paying off my indebtedness, and I have now. got as far as C. Don’t &publef yourself to btall again, As soon 'as I get to W, I.will call uponi you with the amount.” Struck with the debtor’s systematic and equitable method of c:io‘ingr business, the creditor hopefully withdrew.—Argonaut, . . 'PHERE Wwere i'unniug }n, the United States, April 1, 495 distilleries, 488 of . which used daily 75,087, bushels of sgrain,x-making 270;.001%&11::&1.&, of spir- - ts. 'l'he other seven of the distilleries = used molasses at the rate of 8,855 gallons daily, and obtaining therefrom 7,477 ﬁ:lrlgns of: spirits. %{umberm- o ning March 1, 1879, 466; capacity, 308, 185 gallons; decrease*in March, 30,657 pallons@aliyl - o oo —¢People never live to a veryold age in your State,”” said a mentoa resident of Texas. ‘m&"zmm hey kot @ chance."—Derrick.