Ligonier Banner., Volume 14, Number 16, Ligonier, Noble County, 7 August 1879 — Page 7

Qe Ligonier Banuer, LIGOi\II.IE& _'——iﬂn— mpI;Do;.AN A

THE SONG OF THE BED. [By one of the *Can’t-Get-Away” Club; who takes care of the house while his ; family are in the country.] : - WirH aspect sad and forlorn, : With morning paper unread, : A gentleman stood with an ungentle look, * Trying to make up his bed. ‘ Snatch, snatch, snatch, : na At the sheets, and the blankets and spread— And he sunsi]to himself a most dolorous catch; He sang the song of the bed. . ** Gone, gone, gone, G : Are the folks till the cool days come; Lone, lone, lone. , I am left to take care of the home. ' And it’s oh, that I were blessed g ‘ With a home like the barbarous Turk, With wonmien enough in my interest To do the chamber work. S : “‘Sad, sad work > This is for a man, I vow! 5 No chance to shirk, y E’en if he don’t know how! ; But I'll call no blessing down ™ On the man who invented sleep, For the making of beds is a payment dear - For a comfori that ought to be cheap. e t through? : OW 8 ever get throug - Can this g{) - The wxﬁ' that my wife would do? J . Bheet and blanket and spread _ e Placed near the window to air; - The bolster and pillow well shaken up ‘ And piled on the big arm chair. * Oh, men with children and wives : .. Who bid to their homes adieu, “Tis not to their friends alone they go back— They also go back on you! . : Turn, turn, turn, | The mattress from bottom to head, Making at once, with a dreadful growl, A fuss, as well as abed. . *‘ But why do I make a fuss At a little thing like that? . : I ough tto be glad that I have a bed,” - And am not left like a cat, With a backyard for a home, Or a shed upon which to howl . With ﬂ:fd qgnghborinz cats which are .turned n t' 5 . And left there to spit and yowl. : ** Bnatch, snatch, snatch, ; . A sheet from a sofaor chair; And snatch, snatch, snatch, vy ' A blanket from anywhere; : But it’s how to spread them out, And to properly tuck them in, Which makes a man inwardly groan and sweat, Though he smile with a horrible grin. ** Oh, but for one short hour, : To feel as I used to feel : : Ere I was obliged to make up my bed . And go down town for each meal; : For only oneshort hour— . A kind of a sort of a rest, . Such as 1 always used to have : Before the folks went West? : —Boston Advertiser,

: CATHERINE. ) Ir you think the lovers I am going to tell about were a pink and white girl, with sweet eyes and fine hair, and a tall, handsome fellow saying softthings to her, you are greatly mistaken. We had been at summer hotels, at the seaside, and among the mountains, where pert Irish girls, and sometimes perter Yankee ones, flaunted round the table in parti-colored -costumes, and with hair frizzled and pulled over their eyes, a la poodle. . We were tired of people, and wanted to rest; so we induced a farmer’s wife to count us among heér family, and let us share their fresh butter and sweet. cream. These and the strawberries, and the chickens, were all' very nice, but the most refreshing sight there was a real genuine servant. . 7 She was a middle-aged woman, with horny hands, hair toucked. with gray, and a patient, sad exp'®§sion in her eyes. -Her voice was lo¥ ¥and pleasdnt, and her smile very winning, although: she was uncommonly plain, and bore marks of an encounter with that destroyer of beauty—the small-pox. Catherine—she answered to no such pet mame as ‘‘Katy,” or *Kitty'— always wore a clean, well-starched print, with a frill of the same at the neck; a checked apron, tied with tape around her waist, and her hair was always combed smoothly over her forehead. She was one of those rare women who can get up a dinner, and then, as if by magic, put herself in perfect order to serve at table. . Catherine was doing double duty at this time. The boy, whose duty it was to milk seven cows and feed two hundred hens, had gone home, ill, and as the men were all busy in the harvestfields, his work came on her. The farmer had gone down to New York to ﬁet another man, and was expected ome the next day. - That evening, we went out to see Catherine milk, and, as we stood beside her and the delicate buff-colored Jersey cow she was milking, we fell into conversation with her.

She told us she was well acquainted with her work, havin§ been a farmservant in ‘‘ Hengland.”” She thought work lighter and wages better here than there, and remarked: : ‘“ If servants were willing to be like servants here, and not be always struggling to look like ladies, they might lay by a good bit for a sick day, or for old age.” : I said that it was cheering to meet one who was contented with her lot; upon which she heaved a deep sigh, and I saw that it was the same old story—*¢ an aching veid,” if no deeper SOIrTOwW. $ She did not look up, nor court sympathy, but 1 could not help saying: - “1 suppose you left your parents behind, and your brothers and sisters?”’ ‘“ No; my parents died when I were a bitof a child. My brother died ten years a%0.” - - *“Well, one sighs for the very green earth of his native land,” I said. *“Oh, well, I don’t know about that, ma'’am; I never think of that. It's just as green and sweet here. God’s earth is about the same all over;”’ and again there was a deep, deep sigh. We followed Catherine as she bore the shining 6?uil:s ‘into the dairy, and there we met the lady of the farm. Yes, we mean just that, for she was a lady as well as a farmer’s wife. She met Catherine with a smile, and said: X ; i ‘“Be patient one more milking, Catherine. The master’s cominf‘il tomorrow with a man who will be twice the help to you Joe was.” : Catherine smiled and replied: ‘‘l'm not a-weary, and neither am ‘I 'impatient, ma’am.” S i We left the brick-floored dairy, and as we passed into the sitting-room, I

said to the lady, ‘‘ That woman has some great sorrow.”’ il ““Oh, no; only perhaps a little ¢ ’omesick “for hold Hengland;’ "’ was the reply. ¢“She has been with me two years, and hasnever spoken of any trouble. .

‘I have had my suspicions, however,” she added, ¢‘that she might have a husband somewhere, although she passes for an old maid. , The worthy man in our cottage, who has a nice home and sorhe money, wanted to marry her, last winter, to secure a good mother for his boys. But she said, ‘No, that she 'ad no’eart for marl'ying-' 9 : " When the open wagon came up from the depot, about sunset next day, we all'went to the kitchen door to welcome “the master,”’ and to take a peep at the new man. : . ;

Catherine stood in the doorway, the picture of neatness. -She was dressed in one' of her ‘¢ Henglish gowns,”’ in which good-sized cowglips reposed on a ground of refreshingililac color. I complimented her dress, and her high-topped comb, -and her broad muslin collar, whenshe smiled and replied: ‘“These all were given me at a fair at ’ome, yéars agone, land I have worn them but twice. Somg way, I just felt like dressing up this lafternoon. Perhaps it was to pleasé you, who have spoke sokind to me.” ¢ Thank you, Catherine. Here comes the wagon. See what a great muscular fellow the master has brought!’ - The master gave the reins to one of the hay-makers who was just coming in to tea, bade another to take Timothy's *“ box” into the barn-chamber, and then he walked into the kitchen with his new giant, saying: . ‘““Come in and get your supper, so as-to feel at home before you go to your room. Catherine!”’ Catherine had fled; and the man,who had caught a glimpse of her, stood looking at the door through which she had vgnished, his eyes ami; mouth wide opew: g ** Catherine, come now and give your cowantryman a good supper!”’ called the farmdx,. i In a' moment she appeared in the doorway, as pale as marble; and the great, good-looking, middle-aged man made a bound tor her, and caught her in his arms, and showered kisses—which sounded like the report of patent pop-guns—on her pale face. He then held her off.at arms’ length and cried: ] “Is it ye, indeed, Catherine, that I thought dead, found by a mericle?”’ ““0O Timothy!’ gasped Catherine, “I’d long thought ye dead in Haustralia!?”’ . o

““I never set foot on it, sinner as I was to tell ye I was goin’.” Here we all withdrew from what should be a strictly private conference. - That night Catherine tapped at my door; and, when admitted, she said, with a courtesy: i ‘1 couldn’t let ye sleep, ma’am, till I’d explained, lest ye might think me an onmodestgirl that a stranger would dare be kissing. ~ “Timothy and me were ’trothed to each other at ’ome, and for four years we were struggling to lay up a bis to come to Hamerica with. I was by natur’ a bit sad, and ’e was the merriest lad in the town. ’E would tease me at times, telling me ’e’d found a fairer nor me, and would marry her, and so used to fret me.

“But we'd always make up, and ’e’'d say e wouldn’t change me for any girl in the land. But ’e’d soon .be hat It again. v ‘“’E tried it once too hoften. 'E came in, sayin’ ’e was goin’ hoff to Haustralia, and wouldn’t be back for ten years, and bid me farewell. T couldn’t bear the mortification, and I made up my mind to leave Hengland. ‘“ When night came, I put my box in the wagoner’s ’ands, and went | to Liverpool, and took ship for’ere. I halways thought ’im in Haustralia, and ’e thought me crazed ordead when I was not to be found. But’e’s suffered enough, poor dear lad. : ‘“ Aye, though such long years ha’ gone by, ’e’s never loved another, and ’lB eart is just breakin’ wi' gratitude to God for brinéing ’im safe to' me. ““’E’s promiSed, solemn as an oath, never to tease-me: more, and I've pledged me -neeser to be a silly loon, but a wise, sensible woman, worthy to be ’is wife. I've asked leave of the mistress to go to the minister with ’im to-morrow; and the master ’imself offered to drive us 'hover in’is best wagon.”’ ; ; ‘ But you have no wedding dress,”’ I said. - : ¢ O dear lady, if I ’ad a thousand o’ ’em, I'd throw them all aside and wear the cowslip gown that Timothy gave me at the fair!” : The next e¢vening, we had a wedding supper in the dining-toom; and we all waited on Catherine and Timothy. We gave them wedding-presents, and wished them joy, and made them the happiest couple' in town.—Mrs. J. D. Choplin, in Youth’s Companion.

A Brazilian Postoffice. b THE postoffice in Para, the principal seaport of Brazil, is located in an immense room; a vestibule is railed off, within which are several tables covered with papers and letters. How letters are assorted is described by ‘a correspondent of the Boston Journal: There are no boxes alphabetically arranged, nor is there any mail delivery as withus. =~ ’ - Everything comes by water, and as the communication from the Southis but once in two weeks, and from up the river once in nine. days, it follows that the postoffice is for the greater part of the time deserted except by a few clerks, who seem to have little to do except to receive and deliver the few letters transiently coming in. But:when, as sometimes happens, the steamer from the South arrives the same day as the one from the North, a European steamer a day or two before, or just sailing, and the river mail down about the same time, then the old postoffice wakes u% into life and activity. Its gloomy halls are thronged with merchants and clerks, strangers and citizens, ruahinF about, seeiing and carrying off their létters. . Then follow hours of hard work, for as the American steamer only remains

six hours in port, a world of writing has to be done in this short time to answer all the correspondence, and there is no rest for the merchants or their clerks, until after the steamer is gone. When the mail arrives at the postoffice it is not sorted in an ortﬁerly manner, as with us, but the bags are taken into a large inner room, dimly lighted, and emptied out upon a long table—letters and papers all together —and here the clerical work ceases, and the public rush in and make their own selection. Now ensues a scene of confusion which you must witness to fully appreciate. ; ‘ -

As the table has but four sides, and these are lined by perhaps fifty or sixty people, while three or four times as many more are waiting for a chance behind, and the table is filled so full that often the letters and papers slip off on to the floor, and as every letter and paeka.ge must go through every man’s hands before he _is satisfied that he has got all that belongs to him, you may imagine that it is a work of time and uncertainty to get one’s letters. In a day or two the large table is pretty well cleared, and what is' left is removed to a smaller one near the main entrance, the papers placed on top, and the letters in the drawer. Here any one goes, at any hour the office is open, and searches for letters and papers without let or hindrance. s

Something in Favor of the Jury Sys- . -tem. T . ON some questions of law the judges are very apt to be right; on others they set one another right after awhile, although it takes a course of years and costs something to do it. But we object to having any man elected over us to decide ‘‘facts)’ for us for a term of years. We object to a board of three or five such men. * Facts’’ have proved the ruin and overthrow of more judges than® were ever slaughtered by hard work or ill-ventilated court rooms. Lord Bacon was great enough so long as he confined himself to expounding the law. It was not until he succumbed to the temptations which beset him in. the shape of ‘‘facts’® that he became the ¢ meanest of mankind.”’ The jury gives a prompt decision. It is a notorious fact that judges who take causes: home for decision rarely bring them back until an interval of weeks or even months has cooled the controversy and perhaps robbed it of its fruits. If every case were tried before a jury and all questions of fact eliminated on the spot, no judge could ask a long delay for the consideration of the points submitted by counsel. Another advantage of juries over judges for the trial of questions of fact is that—in large cities, at least—they do not usually know either the parties or their counsel. Something near to strict impartiality may, therefore, occasionally be attained. Every young lawyer has felt this when called upon to .cope with some older antagonist long entrenched in the confidence and esteem of the court, their friendship cemented perhaps by social or family or political ties. Such influences as these are the most dangerous -becauge the most subtle and the most penetrating. The best of judges are effected by them without knowing it. ' - For downright common sense, unsophisticated by too much learning, and for that sort of shrewdness which discerns the truth hidden in the bowels of a complicated dispute, commend us to u jury of twelve plain men of affairs. It is typical of our democratic institutions, typical and also part and parcel of that larger jury before which every man is being; constantly tried for all of his acts, and he may as well bring himself to it first as last. They will judge him in the end, anyhow. He may humbug a tribunal of ‘‘three to five judges” for a while into a false opinivn of him, but it is the jury of his peers who in the last analysis will make or mar him. They will do it out of court if not allowed to do it in court; and he had better ht}ve it done in an orderly manner and “according to law whenever an occasion arises.—E. P. Wilder, tn Albany Law Journal.

How Germany Used the War Indemnity: Paid by France. AN account has been lately published of the way in which the indemnity paid by ¥rance to Germany on the conclusion of the war of 1870-71 has been spent. Altogether, including the war contributions imposed upon Paris and the dgpartments occupied by the German troops, Germany has received from France the sum of 5,254,000,000 franes, or about £210,160,000. Of this sum £91,748,543 were in the first instance set aside for Imperial purposes, and the remainder was divided among the several States forming the Empire, the old North German Confederation receiving £79,114,235; Bavaria, £13,468,819;. Wurtemburg, £4,248,304; Baden, £3,050,493, and Hesse, £1,436,509. Of the £91,748,543 set aside for Imperial purposes, £28,033,849 have been appropriated to form a pension fund; £10,800,000 to strengthen, enlargeand add to the number of fortified places of the Empire; £8,580,000 for the purchase and construction of railways in Alsace and Lorraine, and £6,447,142 to improve the fortresses in the two annexed provincns; £6,000,000 have been placed in the 1. crial War Treasury; £600,000 have been awarded in grants for eminent services; £242,740 have been spent in providing a range on which to carry on artillery experiments; £300,000 have been 'allotted to German subjects expelled from France, while smaller sums have been appropriated to recompeuse railway companies for the damage done to their rolling stock; to improve the military, telegraphic and -postal services; to compensate German ship-owners for losses sustained during the war; to sxtend the military .wﬂographical depart-~ ment; to enla.r%e the artillery workshops at Strasburg; to provide commemorative medals, and to construct a building for the Reichstag.—Pall Mall Gazette. RoACIE ok

~ —Wise words from a Michigan lady: ¢ It is not b{y fretting, or worrying, or plying the fan that we can keep cool; but by takin%lup our work, doin% it bravely and cheerily, with as little fuss as possible.” - ' A

Youths’ Department. . THE KAISERBLUMEN. HAvVE you heard of the Kaiserblume; O little children sweet, That grows in the fields of Germany, | Light waving among the wheat?e 'Tis only a simple flower, But were I to try all day, Its grace ana charm and beauty - [ couldn’t begin to say. L By field and wood and road-side, : Delicate, hardy and bold, : g It blossoms in wild profusion In every color but gold. The children love it dearly, And with dancing feet they go To seek it with song and laughter; .And all the people know That the Emperor’s daughter loved it Like any peasant maid; ' And, when she died, her father, Stern Kaiser Wilhelm, said: ; ‘ This flower my darling cherished, Honored and crowned shall be; Henceforth "tis the Kaiserblume, ' The flower of Germany.”: : ' Then he bade his soldiers wearit, = * Tied in a gay cockade, i ; And the quaint and. humble blossom . His royal token made. - S4id little Hans to Gretchen, G One summer morning fair, As they piayed in the fields together, And sang in the fragrant air: * O look at the Kaiserblumen _ That grow in the grass so thick! ; -Let's_gather our arms full, Gretchen, And take to the Emperor, quick! e Fot never were any so beautiful. So blue and so white and red:”’ So all they could carry they gathered, .And thought of the Princess dead. Then under the b‘la,z'uig sunshine They trudged o’er the long white road, That led to the Kaiser's palace, . With their brightly nodding load. : But long ere the streets of the citv They trod with their little feet, As hot they grew and as tired ; As their corn-flowers bright and sweet. And Gretchen'’s cheeks were rosy o With a weary travel stain, And her tangled hair o'er her blue, blue eyes, Fell down in a golden rain. And at last all the nodding blossoms Their shining heads hung down— : But ** Cheer up, Gretchen!’ cried little Hans, ‘“ We've almost reached the town! :

* We'll knock at the door of the palace, And won't he be glad to see All the Princess’ flowers we've brought him! Think, Gretchen, how pleased he’ll be!” So they plodded patiently onward, And with hands so soft and sma}l ¢ They knocked at the palace portal, And sweetly did cry and call: * Please open the door, O Kaiser! ve‘ve brought some flowers for you, Our arms full of Kaiserblumen, : All rosy and white and blue!” But nobody heeded or answered, 'Till at last a soldier grand -~ Bade the weary wanderers leave the gate, With a gruff and stern command. But ** No!” cried the children, weeping; Though trembling and sore afraid, And clasping their taded flowers, ** We must come in!” they said. A lofty and splendid presence, The echoing stair came down; To know the King there was no need That he should wear a crown. And the children cried: ** O Kaiser, ' - We have brought your flowers so far! And we are so tired and hungry! See, Emperor, here they are!” They held up their withered posies, ; While into the Emperor’s face ; A beautiful light came stealing, * And he stooped with astately grace; Taking the ruined blossoius, With gentle words and mild He comforted with kindness ; The heart of each trembling child. And that was a wonderful glory That the little ones befell! And when their heads are hoary, : They. still will the story tell, 5 How they sat at the Kaiser’s table, And dined with Princes and Kings, In that far-off day of splendor - Filled full of marvelous things! 3 And home, when the sun was setting, The happy twain were sent, : In a gleaming golden carriage : With horses magnificent. ' And like the wildest vision Of Fairy-land it seemed: S Hardly could Hans and Gretchen : Believe they had not dreamed. And even their children’s children Eager to hear will be, : How they cgarried to Kaiser Wilhelm The flowers of Germany. ° —Celia Thaxter,in St. Nicholas.

PLODDING TOM. ‘“Tom DunN, do you know‘%yeur lesson yet?" = : The question, uttered in an irritated tone, came from a young man who had been reading a newspaper, waiting for the tardy boy of his class. ““N-no, sir; I don't believe I do, quite,”” was the hesitating reply. ¢ Are you aware what time it is?”’ ““One o’clock, sir,” said young Dunn. 4 He knew that well enough. Had not his eyes lingered on the tardy hands of the old moon-faced clock, and thence gone roving out through the window to where the fields were sleeping in the noonday haze? And then he was so hungry! : “Tom, come here. I can’t understand what makes you so stupid!”’ said the master; and taking the book, he proceeded to hastily review point after point. ) ‘¢ Do you understand this?’’ he asked, ‘¢ and this, and that?”’ Tom’s brow lightened. He was more pleased with himself thatthings looked clea®r, and certain doubts vanished, and his hearty, ¢¢Oh, thank you, sir!” made the teacher smile. j * You're very slow, Dunn, very slow. I don’t think I ever saw a, fellow just like you; but I guess what you learn vou learn.” I'nat was just it—what Tom Dunn knew, he knew thorou%hly. : it “ Well, if here isn’t Tom, just as dinner is done!’ cried his sister Anne. ¢ And every bitof the pudding gone,"’ said Oscar, the next oldest brother. ‘I made sure you'.d sgzy all day.” ~ “Poor boy!’ sighed his mother; ¢t he always seems. to be behind in everything. Ever since he was a baby he has been slow.” . ey

Tomsat down, however, and ate the scraps contentedly. It had always been his lot to eat scraps. Nobody seemed to think that Tom would care. - “I don’t know what we shall do with that boy,”” Mr.. Dunn often said, when talking .over the prospects of their children. ‘‘Charley incf‘ines to the law, and Oscar will be a doctor; but what ability has Tom for anything? He is so slow and plodding, so little ambitious, that [ am discouraged when I think of his future.’’- :

¢ Poor Tom!” said Mrs. Dunn, halfsighing, half-laughing; ¢ he lis the black sheep of the family® When he

.was a little fellow, I used often to be startled by the owl-like wisdom of his face. 1 never thought then that it was ‘dulness. He can’t help it. His motions are slow, his mind is slow, but I hope he will rake his way in the world.”? Eah s

~ Tom was the butt of all the family; but it did not seem to anger him at all. He knew he was slow. Charley could play brilliantly, sing a song with excﬁllent effect, and play any game well. 5 - Oscar, his younger brother, was famous for his compositions and his power of elocution. All the rest excelled, outstripped him, and yethe plodded on patiently. : o ““Going to the theater to-night?” asked a well-dressed young man of Tom, as they left a store together.‘ This was four years later, and Tom was one of the clerks in Tolman & Tolman’s great establishment, andso slow and undemonstrative that the other clerks were always chaffing him. He thought for a moment, rattled some locse coins that were in his pocket, and said: - cc NO'-” . : ‘“ Have you ever been?'’ queried the other. / Tom looked at him in his usual deliberate way, and replied, ¢ No.”’ l.f“,'l,‘hen you don’t know anything of ife. : ““Then I don’t want to,”’ responded Tom. ; : ‘“ By the way, where are you boarding?"’ asked his friend, pulling on a pair of very tight gloves. Tom never wore gloves. . ' “At Glen’s, in Holbrook street,” said Tom. _ : ~_ ““Oh, you're slow. Why, that's way down town.”’ ““That’s why I bcard there,”” said Tom: ‘lonly pay four dollars a week. Good evening.”’ : : *“ The meanest fellow I ever saw,” muttered Dick Dalton, as he planted his fancy cane, as heavily as its fragility would permit, on the sidewalk.

‘Tom gained his boarding-house, a tall, rusty-looking tenément, in the fourth story of which was his room. It was a very desolate-looking apartment, for, save in the coldest weather, Tom never had a fire. , There were three shelves full of excellent ‘books, and on a table at the side of the room stood something that looked like a wooden arm-chair. Bits of pine, a few tools; and a paper filled with sawdust, kept them company. Of course Tom got but frugal meals in this place. A widow and her daughter kept the house, letting nearly all the rooms to lodgers;-but Tom’s quiet ways and pleasant face had won an entrance to their hearts, and they took him to their table for a small consideration. ' :

Tom ran up stairs as soon as he reached the house. He never ran up stairs in any other place, but there was an attraction there which was better than thé amusements to which his fels low-clerks devoted themselves. - No sooner had he seated himself at the table, and talen up ascrew, than some one knocked at the door. At his low ‘“come in,”’ his eldest brother presented himself, dressed in the height of fashion—handsome and even imposing in his appearance. ' : “Well, Tom, so these' are your lodgings, my boy,” said the young man. ¢‘ Not much style, I must say.” ‘‘Not much,”” said Tomi, cheerfully. ‘“ Have you just come from home?’ ““Yes, and everything is going on about the same. Father is mightily ple?’sed that I have got my. shingle up. . ~ ‘“And are you prospering?”’ asked Tom, with a sidelong glance upon the ivory cane, the kid gloves and the gold chain. = : : | ¢¢Oh, so-so. Of course, it has taken a good deal of money to furnish my office.” . - I thought father advanced you five hundred dollars,”” said Tom. i ‘“So he did. The old gentleman was very good to mortgage the pro£erty~ for I suppose you are informed of the fact—but things are so horribly expensive.”’ : , * ¢« What things?’ asked Tom, dryly. ¢ Everything—ull things. To get business now-a-days a fellow must make a show.”’ ‘' And so you smoke ten-cent cigars, give suppers now and then, treat your companions and frequent the theater,” said Tom. :

« Oh, hang it! Your blood’s water, Tom; and, beside, your position is different from mine. Things are expected from me. I must go into society. By-and-by 1 shall get a case that will pay me richly for all these sacrifices.”’ ¢ Sacrifices!”” repeated Tom, in a tone that made Charley’s blood move faster, so that he said to himself, with the addition of an oath: : ““The sameold slow-boy, with no more brains than anox.” « * ““You arestill at the machine, I see,” he said aloud, a moment after. “ Oh, yes; it costs next to nething; and if it never succeeds, it gives me something to think about.” “You gon’t say that you ever think,”’ was the sarcastic response. ; - ¢ Well, now and then,’”’ was the slow rejoinder. ; , Chariey rose, sauntered back and forth for a few moments, and then stood still, his handsome face reddening. . i AGIE I say, Tom, can’'t you lend me ten dollars? I[’m absolutely out of cash.” ¢ 1 never lend,” said Tom. . Charleg’s breath grew short and quick. Some insulting speech was on the end of his tongue, for he felt both ra.%e and contempt; but Tomi, risin quj et{fg went to a desk and lifteg the lid. e : e

«llf five dollars will do you any good, you ' are welcome to them,’ he said. “They are all I have by me.”” : “Tom, you're a good fellow!" gasped Charley, his tongue yet hot with the words he had intended to say. Tom went once or twice to his brother’s office, and did not like it. ““Why should the young lawyer spend a hundred - dollars in pictures?”’ he asked himself, indignantfy; <t and why does he keep the company of such men as 1 have met there? o - ~ One day, Tom received a letter from his brother Oscar: ; | l DEaR OLp ToM: I expect I shall have to leave college. Things are going wrong at howe. 1

don't s : j o Cuik ou have sl you oun & B take gone oF yourself; andso you have, Isuppose. Charley has been an awful weight-upon father, and this year the crops have all failed, and father is disabled from* work by rheumatism. T don’t care much about myself; I only studied medicine to please father, and should rather be almost anything.else. 255 : s 4 I think I could write for the newspapers. Can’t you get me a place in some storenn_d“l could write evenings, and live with you. Think. it over, for I'm about sure father is oing to lose all his p;om. Charley plays bﬁliards, and Y'm afraid 8. Write me as soon. as you can what can be done for me. : : e ‘Tom wrote in less than a week. His employer wanted an under-salesman. Then he set himself to look carefully into his father’s affairs. - i Everything there was going to ruin. The farm was to be sold; his father and mother were nearly heartbroken, and no one thought for a moment of lookin%to . ; e But nevertheless he laid his plans. To pay the mortgage was quite impossible, but he hired some comfortable rooms in the old house where he stayed, sold what could be sold from the stock of the farm, had the necessary furniture brought to town, and installed his father ang mother in a comfortable home. The months passed. The old folks learned to depend upon him, and his sister found- a situation as bookkeeper. e s . One d%y, a gentleman ‘called upon Tom, and was invited into his room. ‘“ You've.been at work fifteen years on this machine, you say?'’ remarked the gentleman, when he had examired it. The speaker was a business man, whose favor was almost equal to a fortune. e o ““Yes, sir,”” said Tom, quietly; *I was always a plodder.”” TR e ‘““Well, you've plodded to some purpose,”’ was the answer. lam very sure there’smoney enoughinit to make you a rich man.” =~ .- ec Tom grew very red, and the room seemed to go round for a moment. < * Thank you,” he made reply. *I should like to be rich for the sake of others.” e . And so, eventually, plodding Tom won the race, and became the practical, efficient, prosperous man of the family. —Youth’s Companion. - . - o

A Detroit Rival of the' Strasburg Clock, . Ll MR. FELix MEIER, an ingenious mechanic of this city, has constructed a clock which, in the number, variety. and accuracy of its performances, eclipses the far-famed Strasburg clock, which it resembles in some particulars. I,t was exhibited on Saturday at the residence of Mr. Meier, 477 Sherman street, to representatives of the press and a few specially invited guests. The clock stands eighteen feet - in height and is enclosed in a black walnut frame elaborately carved and ornamented. It is called the American National and Astronomical = Clock. Very appropriately the crowning figure isthat of Liberty, upon a canopy over the head of Washington, who is seated upon a marble dome. The: canopy is supported by columns on either side. .On niches below at the- - corners of the clock are four human figures. representing infancy, youth, maphood and age. Each of these figures has a bell in one hand and a hammer in the -other. The niches are supported by angels with: flaring torches, and over the center is the figure of Father Time. ' The striking of this clock is its interesting performance. At the quarter hour the figure of the infant strikes its tiny ‘bell; at the half hour the figure of the youth strikes its bell of louder tone; ' at the third quarter the man strikes his bell, and at-§fie full hour the graybeard. Then the figure of Time steps out and tolls the hour. Then two small figures throw open doors “in the columns on either side of Washfgton, and there is a procession of the Presidents of the United - States. As the procession moves Washington ' rises and salutes each ’ﬁ%ure as it passes, and it in turn salutes him. They move through 'the door on the other - side and it is then closed behind them. The figures of the Presidents are pretty fair likenesses. of the persons they are intended to represent. This procession moves to the accompaniment of music played by the clock itself. The music machinery is capable of playing several airs, especially national and patriotic airs. = = | Another interesting feature of the clock is an ‘orrery which shows the movements of- the earth, moon and planets, all. perfect and 'controlied by the machinerﬁ of the clock. There are dials which show the hour, minute and second in Detroit, Washington;- New: York, San Francisco, l.ondon, Paris, Berlin, Vienna, St. Petersburg, Constantinople, Cairo, Pekin and Melbourne. - The clock also shows the day . of the week and month in Detroit, the month and season of the year, the changes of the moon, ete., the whole forming most wonderful and complicated machinery. , : Mr. Meier has worked upon this . clock nearly ten years, and for the last four years has devoted his whole time to it. He is a Bavarian by birth, is about thirty-four years of age and has lived in this country thirteen years. He is a stone-cutter by trade and was employed for a numberof years in the stone-yard of David Knapp. To furnish him time and means to complete this clock a joint stock company was formed called the American National ' and Astronomical Clock Company, - ‘with a capital stock of fifty thousand - dollars, and this company now owns the clock, upén which it'has expended in actual ‘cash some seven thousand dollars. As before stated, the frame is - very rich ‘and elaborate, having been . designed and carved byMr.Fesrﬁin dinand Lapp. The devices are not only beautiful but are appropriate.— Detrost Post and Trsbume.x o cam i ane

—A newly-married lady was tellin another how nicely her husband coulﬁ write. ¢ Oh, you should see some of his love-letters!” ¢ Yes, I know," was the freezi-n%l reply; ‘“l’ve got a bushel. of them at home in my trunk.” [Tableau.] : Lon e S e —-~‘Thermometer's up %o ninety, Mr. Putancall,” said a visitor to a Statestreet broker. ‘‘ Let’em goup topar,” said the man of margins, abstractedly, ¢t T am not short on 'em.”’ —Boston Commercial Bullelin, -~ > s e