Ligonier Banner., Volume 14, Number 9, Ligonier, Noble County, 19 June 1879 — Page 3

L * 1 ! The Zigowier Lanner, o J B. STOLL, i-fmm and Prop:ietors LIGONIER, : .: :‘' INDIANA.

_ THE _L[TZ:LE. ANGLER. 80 sorTLY lay I dqea.xi:ing ’néath the willows, When,,st_mrpli; limned athwart the evening sky. Perched high above the streamlet’s tiny billows, A dainty urchin form I chanced to spy. His sx_lkén sash showed lovirg hands had bound it, e ce His curls were such as soft lips nestle in; "That awkward pole, where had the youngster o fomndaty.” o A ‘ oHimselt, of course, devised that crooked pin.fl I saw him mfl;z'e with such afiLair of longing - At speckled shapes beneath the glancing wave. Not e en the tiniest minnows round him thronging | . Would taste the awkward meal the youngster gave.. | .. L s . ; [But soon I saw himas an allegory; = 1L fancied that I held that rod and line; "There lay the riddle of my weary story,_ e And all tne happiness that was not mine. I was the awkward fisher, vainly trying 2 To lure my prey with neither hook nor skill; And every prize, my stupid might defying, - Was leaving me forlorn and helpless stili. | Ah, me! what boots th%vspirit’s proud endeavor? The gifts from Fate we fondly hoped to win, We find, alas! when they are lost forever, ' We tried to lure them with a crookedpin. —Harper's Weekly., —_—o———— ot " THE *SKEETER" ' © HE domes; the fie;ce invader comes:. His only cryis ‘i blood, be-lood!” Into the drowsy ear he hums, L And he laughs at slaps that fall and thud. ~ He wriggles through the wire-screen door, - Beneath the canopy he crawls; He gluts his greedy thirst for %‘ure,\ el Ere he gets pasted ’gainst the walls. ‘ , *You cannot shut me out,” he cries, ** Through cracks and keyholes in [ come,” And round the darkened room he flies; i And softly asks, '* Are you to hum?”’ . ! When slumber holds sour wearied frame, And all the world is dark and still, ; He 'tends to business, all the same, And ligaidates his little bill. : . —Bunlington Hawk-EYye.

- LEMONFINGERS. FIvE years ago [ was telegraph clerk at Newstone Station. I had a week of day duty and a week of night duty alternately. Christmas eve had come round, of all' nights in the year, and there I found myself cooped :up as usual in the little office; two great staring instruments in front' of me, a flaring gaslight overhead, and a well.heaped grate by my side; not forgetting a three-volume novel to assist me in whiling away the long dark hours. The n:ght messages at Newstone were never very numercus. There were rarely any for private people; they referred mostly to the business of the railway company. That evening I felt very - low spirited. It went againstthe grain to work on Christmas eve, when everybody else seemed to be keeping holiday and enjoying themselves. Carrie and I had been engaged about two years, and, for any prospect of marriage, we might be engaged for twenty years longer. Mr: Lancaster, Carrie’s father, was a tradesman in a good way of business, and naturally refused to let his daughter marry a’ fellow who was getting only sevenly pounds sterling a vear. He several times advised Carrie: ~ to give me up, but, as she would not. do that, he contented himself with for‘bidding me the house, trusting to time ~and distance—for they lived several miles from Newstone—to aid his cause. - 1 knew ‘that Mr. Lancaster always invited-a number of young people to his house on Christmas eve, and I pictured them there, dancing; Carrie flitting about in her white muslin’ dress with the very ribbon round her waist «that I hiad given her only a month before. Would any .thought ofi my miser-: able self cross her mind as she moved amoung the gay company? Perhaps my detested rival, Binks, the draper, might be even dancing with her, and pressing - her'waist with his arm at that very moment. Thoughts not calmly to be ~-borne; so away I went on the platform for a change of scene. : A clear starlight night, with a keen breeze that whistled shrill and dry through the telegraph wires above my head, and brought to my ears the faint sounds, made~soft and sweet By distance, of the Christmas waits. Lanterns, flitng like fire flames among the wagons in the station yard; hoarse uncouth shouts of men, and wild shrieks from distracted locomotives, that seémed madly étt]alaring up and _ down, merely to keep themselves in a | glow on such a bitter night, and not because they had anything to do. So into the office again, with numb fingers, _glad to have such a haven. - ‘The long dark hours sped slowly; cach hour clinked out by the valorous little clock in the corner. Midnight came and went; one o’clock, two o'clock, three o'clock. 1 had grown. tired of the charming heroine, and had again become- weakly deS£ondent. on the subject of Binks, when 1 was aroused by the quick tinkle of the electric bell.” A private message: hosil “ Mr. Korf, Ironville, to Mr. Darke, 39 High street, Newstone. ' 4 ** Lemontingers starts by the mail to-night. All Crene. Take care ot'-the‘{lackdwm." ' I was accustomed to queer messages, but this was the oddest I had seen. I spelled it over twice, to see that I had got it down correctly, then copied it out on one of the printed forms, signed it, enteréd at the foot the ‘timeé I had received—3:4s—and. placed it in an en- . velope. St : St No. 39 High street was the residence. of Mr. Breem, the tailor, and was only , five njinutes’ walk from the station.. ‘Mr. Breem, generally had apartments to let, and Mr. Darke was probably, a lodger. Having locked the office, I proceeded on a rapid 'trot toward Mr. Breem’s. 1 concluded th_at Mr. Darke was a showman, and that somebody was sending him a dwarf—perhaps a | giant also—but certainly a dwarf, to ~ put in his caravan. There was a light in flize second floor of No. 3?. Wa,s;firé Darke waiting, expectant of a message It Inoked likég it. P il i 1 gave a loud knock and stepf,ed back to note the effect. The ligh -in the second floor was not moved, but -the window was opened, and a head popped out, and a gruff voice demanded: B e § «« Who's there?” : e ¢ «Does Mr. Darke live here?” . ¢« Why do you want to know?"’

~ “I've got a telegraphic message for him.” o “Ugh! Allright! Wait a minute.” A very grufi' voice, certainly. Next moment the door was opened. as far as the chain would admit, and a great muscular hand was thrust out. ¢« Hand it here,”’ said Mr. Darke, Accordingly I piaced the note in his hand. : : : “Wait a bit, till I see whether any answer is required.”’ 7 In a minute or two the window was again opened. ‘‘No answer,” and the casement was slammed down. With thé exception of voice, I had no'more idea of Mr. Parke'when I left No. 39 than I had when I wenf. I had merely seen the outline 6f his head when he looked out of the window. Whether he was an old man or a young man, a fair man or a dark men, I was equally at a/loss to know. = | '

Ironville is thirty-five miles from Newstone.! The mail train runs the distance in rather under an hour, and reaches the latter place at 5:30 o’¢lock. As the clock pointed to 5:30, I set off for a stroll up the platform, determined that if any dwarf, or giant, or -other strange monster arrived by the train, he should not depart unseen by me. I half expected to find Mr. Darke waiting for the train, but he was not to be séen. True to the time, the train crawled slowly into the station; and in another moment the platform was Hooded with those strangely-attired individuals, whose business or pleasure induces them to travel by night. No dwarf, no giant, nor other strange monster. Only one passenger for Newstone, all the others booked through, @s was evident from their: frantic struggles to find their seats the 'moment the bell clashed out its warn‘ing note. And this one passenger! A slim gentleman, stylishly dressed, {oung, without whiskers, but with a long, fair mustache, which he was fond of stroking with his exquisitely-gloved thumb and finger. He alighted jauntily from a first-class carriage, smiled amiably on the porter, who touchea his cap, took up his small black portmanteau, gave one hurried, anxious glance round, brokeinto asmile again, ‘ swaggered slowly down the platform, and, -pushing through the heavy fold-ing-doors,. emer%?d into the street. Some swell from London come to spend Christmas with his friends, I said to myself. But where can he be %\?ing to at this timé of the morning? None of the inns will be open for.above an hour. Without waiting to consider whether it was any business of mine, I pushed through the folding doors after the traveler. - He was walking slowly across the little square in front of the station, looking from side to side, as if not knowing which road to take. Suddenly a dark figure glided out from behind some projection, and advanced toward him. 1 could hear the murmur of a few words. Then the stranger took the portmanteau from the traveler’s hand, and they went on together at a rapid pace into the town. All this I saw by the light of the station lamps. When the tWo figures got beyond their influence, and passed out oi view in the denser darkness beyond, impelled by a vague feeling of curiosity, I drew my coat closer around me, and set off after them at ‘a stealthy: pace, taking the darker side of the square as I went. I had not far to follow. They passed into High street, and stopped opposite No. 39. A moment more and they were both inside the house and the door was shut; another moment, and I saw the light shining from Mr. Darke’s room in the secortd floor front. . Havipg no expectation of seeing anything more | turned back to the office, and there, bending over a jovial fire, fell gradually into a doze, in which Mr. Darke, the traveler, Carrie, a black dwarf and Binks, the draper, were all mingled in a fantastic drama, revolving endlessly in my weary brain.. What had the telegraphic message to do with the ‘handsome ‘stranger? 1 sleepily kept asking myself, at intervals of a few minutes, but without troubling myself to find an answer. Suddenly a new light burst upon me. I started up, thoroughly awake and tearing open the dispatch book read over again the first part of the message: ¢‘‘Lemonfingers starts by the mail.”’ Well, what has that to do with the handsome traveler? Why, this, doesn’t the traveler wear a pair of ftightly-fitting lemon-colored gloves? and wasn’t the outside seam of the first finger of the right hand glove burst open? ' This I had noticed a 8 he stroked his mustache. But, even supposing the traveler to be the lemonfingers of the message, what about the black dwarf? There was no black dwarf. - He was alone. Alone? Yes, but had he not with him a small black portmanteau, of which he seemed to take particular care, refusing to let the porter so much as take it out of the carriage for him. A theory, ingenious, but improbable, I remarked to myself as I put out the gas and drew up the blind to admit the struggling day. My dut(;{y was over at eight o’clock. The London train was about to start as I went up the platform on my way home. Passing a group of people standing near a carriage door, I was suddenly startled by a deep, gruff voice exclaiming to some one, ‘- We shall be off in half a minute more.” ¢I ‘would pick that voice from a thousand as Mr. Darke’s!’ I exclaimed under my breath, ag I glanced quickly round. The group had dispersed, except two persons, a man and a woman,; who were prepa.ring’ to take their places in the train. The person whom 1 took for: Mr. Darke was a bulky, middle-aged man, dressed in a good suit of black clothes. Hf had biack hair and thick, black eyebrows; his whiskers were black, meeting full'and bushy under the chin; his face was pale and marked b{ the small-pox,-and his eyes were black, bold and cunning—altogether a fierce fellow, whom it wouid be ‘unwise to enrage. His companion’s face 1 could not see, it being concealed by a thick veil; but judging from her figure shecould not be much above twenty years old. She was well, but rather conspicuously attired, having over her silk dress a voluminous scarlet shawl, comfortable looking enongh, certainly, on a cold Christmas morn. ing. Butsee! As Ilive she has got on the very pair of lemon-colored gloves that were worn by the young dandy who arrived by the night mail; the

same pair of gloves without a doubt, bhaving the outside seam of the first finger of the right hand a little torn. There, too, is the identical little black portmanteau, carefully carried this time by Mr. Darke himself. Whatcan it all mean? : :

' Under ordinary circumstances I should have gone to bed and slept till two or three o’clock in the afternoon; but on Christmas Day such a proceeding was not to be thought of. So, having breakfasted, I put on my Sunday suit and left for home with the inten‘tion of taking a long stroll in the ‘country. Before setting out I went to the station to see if I could not induce a certain friend to accompany me, when whom should I meet on the platform ‘but Mr: Choop, the chief constable of | Newstone. :

' Mr. Choop is a small, wiry, activelooking man, with & sauntering and negligent air, as if he were in want of something to do. - Mr. Choop has a smiling, open countenance, he wears his hat very much at the back of his head and generally displays an ample amount of shirt bosom, seemingly in his quiet way to invite the contidence of everyone. But tell him something chat interests him, excite him, bring him out of the passive into the active mood, and you will see his eyes become keen and piercing, this features sharpen and his teeth glisten. He looks at such a moment as dangerous and full of mischief as a tiger crouched for a spring. Mr. Choop is a distant relative of mine by marriage, and was aware of my affections. He was in the passive mood when I encountered him on the platform, and looked the most amiable and artless of men. :

‘““How are you this mOrnin%?” he said, as we shook hands. ‘‘And how is Carrie? Have you and the old man made matters up yet?”’ : I shook my head disconsolately. - ““ Well, faint heart, you know,” he added, with a smile. ¥ What brings me down here? Basiness, to be sure. The fact is,”’. mysteriously taking me by the button, ¢ there was a daring burglary committed last night at Ironville, and property to a large amount was stolen. From information I received half an hour ago by telegraph 1 have reason to believe that one of the accomplices, having in his possession a considerable part of the stolen property, arrived here this morning by the early mail train—a slender young man, fashionably dressed, light mustache, wearing a pair of lemon-colored kid gloves, and carrying a small black portmanteau.”’ . ““Mr. Drake's friend, by Jupiter!” ¢“ Eh, what do you mean?’ asked Choop sharply, with his eager ferretlook, that changed him atonce into another man. Three minutes sufficed to put him in possession of all I knew. Mr. Choop gave an almost imgerceptible jerk with his thumb, and a tall, ungainly-looking man, having the appearance of a farm laborer in his best clothes, lounged' up, and I recognized Timothy, Mr. Choop's confidential subordinate. [

Mr. Choop sent Timothy off to No. 39 to make certain inquiries; then went himself to the booking office to ask the clerk whether he remembered to what station Mr. Darke and his companion were booked. The clerk .booked so many passengers by that train that he could not positively remember; but he thinks through to London. Mr. Choop then desires me to accompany him to the telegraph office. The nine o'clock train had hardly got half way to London yet. By consulting a timetable Mr. Choop found out on what part of the line the train ought to be; so at his request I telegraphed to the station at which it would next stop, giving a brief description of = Mr. Darke and his companion, desiring the train to be searched on its arrival, and the individuals in question to be detained. In a quarter of an hour we received a reply: ¢‘The train has been searched, but no individuals answering the descriptiongiven by you were in it.”’ ‘“Telegraph to each station where the train has stopped,”” said Mr. Choop, ““till you discover at which one of them the gan and woman got oub o e : So I telegraphed four stations without success, but the fifth answered: ‘“Yes, the individuals you mention reached here by the eight o’clock a. m. train.”’ L BUE e “I'll have you yet, Jimmy Riley,” exclaimed Mr. Choop, with a grim smile. ¢ Fred, if you would like to see a bit of fun, and would like to go with Timothy and I, you are welcome.” | - As the clock struck twelve we found ourselves at Fulwood station—MTr. Choop, Timothy and myself. After making a few inquiries of the stationmaster, Mr. Choop sent Timothy in one direction, while he and I took another. Mr." Choop put cautious questions to several individuals, but without gaining any positive information. Neither was Timothy, when we met him, able to furnish any satisfactory intelligence. Mr. Choopo considered for a few moments. ‘lt must be as I suspected all along,” he said at last; ‘“ we shall find them at the Ten Tramps. Step out, lads; bestleg foremost.”’ i B

We left -the village at a rapid pace, and still keeping on the high road, got into a barren moorland country. Fields, hedgerows and trees were gradually left behind, until at length we were shut in on every side by swelling hillocks of moor, which swept away as far as the eye could reach, and bounded the horizon with their sinuous, graceful lines. Following the guidance of Mr. Choop, we quitted the high road after a time, and came to a halt under the lee of a higher hill than common. Mr. Choop, taking off his hat, clambered up the hill and took a stealthy survey over its summit. He then beckoned ‘me to follow. i Peeping over;’l found that we were on thesummit of a ridge of country, from which the road swept down into a small valley, in the middle of which, and close to the high-road, stood a small, square house. kil ‘ : ““The Ten Tramps. I dare wager that Jim Bilfi' and wife are in that house,”” said Mr. Choop. * It is a notorious ga.thering place for all the rogues in the district.”’ ' Mr. Choop descended, and he and Timothy held secret council some four

minutes. Then Timothy opened a small bundle—brought all the way from N ewstone—.ang proceeded with much gravity to induct himself into a wagoner’s blue smock frock, plentifully braided and buttoned after the fashion in which wagoners delight. He next turned up the bottoms of tbe fustian trowers, so as to bring into more prominent view his laced up boots; then he gave his hat a .push back and his hair a pull forward, and set off at a swinging pace in the direction of the Ten Tramps, whistling the * Plow-boy,” as he went. Mr. Choop ‘and I passed thé next half hour together, smoking' cigars and discussing - various matters, with a glance over the hillock every two or three minutes in the direction of the inn.

““ Why not wait till night,” I asked Mr. Choop, ‘ whenyou could approach the house without being seen?” ‘“ Because after dark we should be pretty sure of finding half a dozen rough customers there, who would make the matter awkward.” “Then why not take half a dozen men with you so as to avoid all risk?”’ ‘¢ What credit would therebe in that? When Timothy and I fail it will be time enough to call in other assistance. There he is!” . ; Timothy was lounging against the doorpost, smoking a long clay pipe. ‘While we were watching him he took off his hat and scratched his head vigorously; a second time; and a third time. : : ‘“ All right,” said Mr. Choop. ¢ That was the signal. Lend me your cap, Fred, and you take my hat; I don't want Riley to recognize me until 1 get into the house.” Having made the transfer, we set off, Mr. Choop walking with an assumed limp. e . Timothy was still smoking his pipe at the door when we reached the inn. ‘*Foine day, master.” ““Very fine, my man,” said Mr. Choop. ik r ““ What, sort of a tap have you got herep?’ ! . - 1t ¢ Oh, toidish. You'll foind the landlord somewhere inside. All the women folks seem to have gone out somewhera.”? «

““Two glasses of your best ale, landlord,” exclaimed Mr. Choop to a burly, red-headed man with a villainous countenance, who came forward, scowling suspiciously. The landlord’s back was hardly turned before a quick whisper was exchanged between Timothy and Mr. Choop. We were lighting the cigars when the landlord returned with the ale. He showed us into a small room, and we left the countryman still smoking at the door. He seemed to be a thirsty soul, this countryman, for he called for gla.ss' after glass, as if fully determined upon getting drnnk in the shortest possible time. He drank so wuch that the landlord’s big jug was exhausted, and he lighted a candle to go down intp the cellar to draw more ale. Hardly had the landlord reached the bottom of the cellar before the door was quickly locked behind him.

Mr. Choop’s apathy vanished in a moment. His eyes flashed, his teeth glistened, he looked dangerous. “‘Go you into the garden,” he whispered to me, “and take your stand below the window on the left. Xf Jim Riley jumps out, though 1 don’t think he’ll have time—lay hold of him and stick to him till I come. Now, Tim, quick and be silent.”” Mr. Choop and Timothy, each pulling out an ugly-looking staff, crept up-stairs as stealthy as two burglars, while I hastened into the garden. .

. A mingled noise of shouting and oaths, crowned by a woman’s wild shriek, the crash of a falling table, and then the window was flung up, and Mr. Darke dashed madly through, followed closely by Choop. They came down almost together, and rolled over in a fierce struggle. But Mr. Darke, twice as strong as his opponent, was uppermost, sitting astride of Mr. Choop. Only for one moment, for the next my arms were around his neck. I gave him a sudden pull back with all my strength. Choop, now on his feet, whipped out his handcuffs and had Mr. Darke safe and fast before that individual could recover his breath.

At this moment Timothy appeared, escorting Mrs. Riley, as I suppose she ought to be called, and carrying, with much care, the small lél(ack portmanteau. Mr. Choop opened.it, and I perceived it to be half full of watches, rings, pins and jewelry of various kinds. The woman’s veil, now thrown back, showed me the midnight traveler minus the mustache; a bold, forwardlooking, good-featured woman, bearing her misfortunes with a haughty indifference that excited” Timothy’s admiration.

The landlord, kic_kin% at his cellar door, and calling to be let out long before this, was released by Timothy; aud very bland he looked when he beheld how his guests had suddenly come to grief. By Mrir. Choop’s orders he brought out his horse and cart, and we drove back through the darkening afternoon to Fulwood. : ) - Through Mr. Choop’s indefatigable exertions the whole gang of burglars was speedily captured. One of them turned Queen’s evidence and it then came out that Mr. Riley was the planner only of the burglaries in which they had all been engaged for some time back, it being his - duty to pick out the premises to be robbed, tv muke plans of them, and arrange the details of the attack, leaving to others the merely mechanical part and re¢eiving a certain share of the proceeds for his part of the labor. ~ Three days after Christmas Day I received.a note from Mr. Lancaster asking me to go over to Ironville, as he wished particularly to see me. He received me in his grave, quiet way, looked me through and through, from under his bushy gray eyebrows, motioned me to a seat and then spoke: . ¢I received yesterday morning from Mr. Choop an account of certain events relative to the recent burglary on my premises.” i b i ¢ The burglary on your premises, sirp”’ B ,

*“Yes. | Were you not aware of itP” ¢« 1 wag, of course, aware that a robbery had been committed, but was not aware that you were the sufferer.”’ ¢« Such, however, is the case,”’ replied Mr. Lancaster. ‘“Mr. Choop in-

forms me that it was through you he first ‘obtained the clue whic% enabled him to track and capture part of the gang and recover a portion of the stolen property, and that he was much indebted to your courage and activity in the capture of Riley. Now, I am not an ungrateful man; you have had a liking for my daughter, which, I believe is returned by her; but you are not in a position to marry. I will tell you what I'll do for you. I will take you as an assistant into my shop at a moderate salary, and if 1 find that you bring into your new trade that améunt of intelligence and activity ‘which I' am told you possess, I will advance you accordingly; and providing you and Carrie remain in the same mind 'another year, I will ‘not object to your marriage. Let me have _lf'our decision in the morning. ' You will find Carrie in the parlor.” ‘ e I need hardly say that both Carrie and I are very glad to see. Mr. Choop when he favors us with a call in our new home, and '%)lrings us news of Lemonfingers, who, now that Mr. Riley is working out his penal servitude, is doing well as a licensed hawker in the hosiery and Nottingham line.— English Magazine.

FACTS AND FIGURES. In the Cleveland Insane Asylum there are 715 inmadtes. : THE Jewish Times computes the number of Jews over the world to be 6,503,000. i s ‘THE Key West sponge trade is on tge increase. Seventy vessels and 350 men are engaged in it. ' ONE“HUNDRED AND EIGHTY-THREE cotfon mills have been built in the outh since the war. . e " "Tuk\ last Austrian census shows that 183 men and 229 women in that Empire have celebrated their own centennials. : THERE were imported into the United States in 1878, $2,314,994 worth of papef ra%s, and $914,888 worth of the materials to make paper. o - SHERMAN, Conn., with about 800 inhabitants, has had seven suicides and two murders in the last fifteen years, six of the suicides being closely related to each other. : THE shipments 6f boots and shoes from Boston in one week lately, footed up 20,214 cases, or over 7,000 more than for the! corresponding week last year, and the shipments for the first five months of the year aggregate 681,573 cases, against 581,253 in the corresponding period of 1878. : THERE is a cypress trec at Somma, in Lombardy, Europe, which is said to be the oldest on record on the Continent. There is reason to believe thip tree was in existence at the time of Julius Ceesar, forty-two years before Christ, and is 1,911 years old. It is 106 feet high, and measures twenty feet in circumference at the height of one foot from the ground. When Napoleon made the great road over the Simplon he deflected the line to avoid injuring this tree. » 3 THERE are certain comparisons between the vital statistics of Krance and of Prussia, in a recent report to the Academy of Sciences of Paris. Thus, it appears that in France 100 marriages give about 300 children; in Prussia 460. It is also shown that in France the annual increase of population (births over deaths) is 2,400 for each miilion of inhabitants, while in Prussia it is 13,600. At this rate the population of France should double in 170 years; that of Prussia in 42. .

- THEATER tickets in ancient times were in some instances of very odd design. In Rome a visitor purchased at the office a slender little cane that he carried in his hand and delivered to the doorkeeper. For the highest priced seats this stick was of ivory; for the cheapest, of bronze. Many of these bronze canes have been found in Pompeii, and there are some in the Museum at Naples. They are very slender and gracefully 'made, having at the top a little dome on which a pigeon is perched. . :

THE mineral wealth of Great Britain is shown by thefact, as officially stated, that the product of coal was, 1 1877, 134,610,763 tons, as against 133,344,766 tons in 1876; of iron ore, the pyoduct was 16,692,802 tons, against=l6;B4l,sB3 the previous year; lead ore, 80,850 tons, against 79,095 in 1676; tin ore, 14,142 tons, against 13,688 in the year before; copper ore, 73,041 tons, against 79,252 in 1876; and salt, 2,735,000 tons. The total value of minerals and metals obtained from the mines, etc., of the United Kingdom in 1877 reached £68,281,405—viz.: £18,742,960, the value of the metals; £47,113,767, coal; and £2,424,679 minerals, ea.rth{, not reduced, together with the value of salt, clays, etc. But the great item in these returns i 8 the vast quantity—6,6oB,664 tons—of pig-iron, of the value of more than $80,000,000, and it is estimated. that in the manufacgure of this metal, between 15,000,000 and 16,000,000 tons of coal were used. | : %

How Dick Taylor Snubbed a Prince. IT isrelated of General Dick Taylor, that during the Derby races the Prince of Wales took him to his own (the Prince’s) stand, and as they were ascending the stairs the Duke of Edinburg came hastily up and said: 0 Wales! do you know Forrester is booked to win?"? : *Oh, yes,” said the Prince, ¢ the General and I have just been to the betting-stand and. laid fifty guineas each on him.”” ~ . Turning to Taylor, the Duke said: “Now, won't you please go to the stand and lay fifty guineas for me on him?”’ _ o e “ Pardon me, your Highness,” said Taylor; *‘the stand is quite as near to you as to me.”’ = ' I am so glad you told Edinburg that,”’ said the Prince. ¢ What a dezlfi/ of cheek he has to be asking my guest to lay his bets for him.” T Taylor had a sincere respect and liking for the Prince, and a hearty contempt for the Duke of Edinburg, whom e snubbed on more than one occasion. Apart from the personal character of the Duke, he was only the second son of & Queen, while Taylor wus the only son of a real President of the United States.— Boston Herald.

Youths’ Department. s wHOE . - v Wgo és the nvygé{ist bu_by‘ i : nat ever said "‘A-goo?’ fog . Whois the dearest baby. = - .+ . . With eyes so soft and bjue? Who is the ,Erettieet baby? | Ithink I'know. Do yog? Ea Who has the softest golden . . __Little rings of hair? . - | Who has the rosiest'cheeks and ‘. ' _The smoothest forchead fair? . = . ‘Who has theé'sweetest kisses, ; Enough of them a.nd to spare? ' Who has the cunningest fingers, © __And who the pinkest of toes? < : . Who has a mouth like a rosebud, And who the daintiest nose? And who is assweet altogether : As the very sweetest rose? Who has the prettiest dimples, ' ' Daiicing in chin and ‘6h3ek ¥ . And who 18 learning the dearest Ot all dear names'to speak? * And whose blue eyes are learning Mamma's dear eyes to seek?_Ah!surely, there’s only one answer - To the questions asked you here; . Only one true, glad answer, - Awaiting the mother’s ear. - Who is the prince of babies?. - - Why, of ¢ourse, my baby dear! —Mary D.Brine, in N.-X, Independent. . i : . GUSSIE’S RIDE.,

It was a mite of a boat just large enough for two, that belonged to Gussie’s fourteen-year-old brother, Robert. 1t was painted blue and white, and was named ‘“The!| Arrow,’”’ because it flew over the water so swiftly. - It was Gussie's one great wish te ride in this pretty boat afiralone. L He wanted to make it go *‘just his own self,”” hesaid, and his mamma had answered: e T ‘¢ Gussie is too small a boy. He must wait till he wears pants. “Then, some time, he shall go in the boat.” Gussie did not forget the promise, though his mamma did; and ‘the first thing he did when the long-coveted trousers were put on was to straighten himself up to his very biggest, and say: - i L : ‘y‘ Now, mamma, don’t you be at all worried about me!” I shan’t be a bit:” Of course mamma laughed at this speech. and then went away to her work, while Gussie, with Rover at his heels, went as straight as he could go down through the garden path to t%e. river. ‘“The Arrow’” was rocking lazily to and fro on the water. . e Gussie loosened the chain that held it. Then he got into the boat, Rover followed, and away they went, slowly at first, but. faster as- they neared the middle of the stream. I Gussie clapped his hands in delight. ‘“lt’s nice to wear pantsand go boating all alone, ain’t it, Rover?” said he, and then in the next breath: = - ‘1 hope they’ll have lots of pudding for dinner. S’pose I'll eut more now, course.”’ . - ¢ o Pretty soon Gussie thought of something. ‘ £ (%Rover, I shall be nervous, Tknow. We didn’t bring no oars.” = - . Rover blinked his eyes very hard, and looked as if he was very well satisfied as things were, and presently Gussie sdid: . 0w , ¢ It's just as nice this way, after all, and nicer, for if I had oars, I'd have to oar the boat, and now I've got nothin’ to do but ’joy the ride;”> ~.. -"~ - Rover’ was- fast asleep now, and Gussie hoisted an umbrella which he found under the seat, “*‘just for company,’’ as he said to- himself, and then he fell to watching the trees and bushes go past with eyes that wouldn’t stay open try as he would. el Once the boat bumped against a stone, and that brought them widé open enough, and Rover’s too. : ‘1 guess that was a big fish—hope ’taint a whale though; we might be swallowed up, mightn’t we, Rover?”’ Rover blinked, as much as to say he thought so, and Gussie leaned over the side of the boat. to lookfor the fish, *“ O Rover, there’s red things away down in the bottom that may be gold, or pearls, or something, and if you wasn’t the sleepyest-headed dog in the world, you'd dive down and bring up gomie.” - - : e , Rover knew something was wanted of him, no doubt; for he went over and sat down behind him, watching him as closely as ifhe had never blinked in his e, ot : Gussie had his hands in the water. He thought he could almost reach what was in the bottom. He tried a little harder. His heels flew up in the air, and the next instant he would have been in the river had not the dog caught his clothing, and held him back. Gussie didn’t care for the red stones after that. .So he turned round, and putting his arms about Rover's neck, and drawing the umbrella over them both, went to sleep. . il ' The boat-went on and on, till it came to & bend in the river, where it followed the current in near the shore. Then all of a.sudden it lodged in the branches of a fallen tree, and Gussie's boat-ride was ended. - - . When he awoke he was ccinsoious of but two things, hunger and loneliness. Even Rover was not with him. The leaves were so thick about him that he could see neither.the bank nor the Water. “ ', 5 A 3 Safg

‘When Gussie was sure that the dog was really gone, and that the boat was fast, he buried his hands in the pockets of his new pants, and cried with all his might. mas s By-and-by he stopped crying to listen. Some one was wading in the water; then his father's form parted the branches of the tree, and Gussie was in his arms in a moment. = - " Rover had guided the gentleman to Gussie's enforced retreat. e 4 « Pants is nb good!” said Gussiethat night. *You mi%ht just as well wear dresses for all the better you’re off with them.—Mrs. A. E. Story, in Youlh's Componson.. ¢ neb it il gar < RRN ST O PRI ~Croton Lake, whence New York City derives its supply 'of water, is patroled' daily by a: cbp;})emnt person, who goes up in a boat along the shore ' on one side and down on the other, removing all dead fish, brush and driftwood. GGt el R el G 0 —A yovng man’ went into a restaurant the other day, and, remarking that «Time is money,”” he added that, as ' he had a hailf-hour to spare, if the pro-' prietor was willing, he’d take it outin ple. - e S i