Ligonier Banner., Volume 14, Number 17, Ligonier, Noble County, 14 August 1879 — Page 7

The Zigonier Banner, "LIGO;‘II.ER, -'—_fi)—r:—n— ro;;;l;;iNA.

AT THE GATE. THE golden fiush of the morning lies . ok ‘O’er smiling river and bending skies; ? “While over the meadow the sweet winds sigh, -And breaths of fragrance blow far and nigh, 5 And the tide flows by. : A boy stands under.the oak-tree tall, : At the old gray gate by the orchard wall; He looks far away where the blue sea smiles, Wondering where lie the Fortunate Isles, , And the tide flows by. A youth and a ;mziden pause and wait In the sunset light at the old gray gate; They silently gaze in each other's eyes, ‘And dream of the rapture of Paradise, - And the tide flows by, Beside the gate stands a careworfl man, "'Neath a wintry moon'ight, faint'and wan; He looks far away toward the cold, gray sea, With asigh for the days that were once to be, / - . And the tide flows by. An old man stands b(f the moss-grown gate, Sorrowing, weary and desolate; : The starlight gleams o’er a distant grave, And over 1t softly the yew trees wave, And the tide flows by. - Through f‘ne old gray gate, toward the shining wes . They have borne the weary one to his rest; : The new day breaks and the shadows flee, - "The tide of the river flows fast and frec- : ; * Far out to sea! D —SB. W. Moulton, in Youth's Companion. AN ENTOMOLOGICAL LOVE AF- . HAIR. : i HE spider locust talking to The apple of his eye— : g He gave a hopper two and yelléd, : **‘Aha, you'd butterfly!” 'The skipper’s brow with rage was knit—- *“ I tick my leave,” quothhe,. ** And you shall sometime feel my mite, ~ Although just now I flea.” v 0O Katy, V‘dea.r. my heart is yours,” ‘ The other fellow said; v o These ages it has beat for you— , i "Twill beetle I am dead!” ‘ See, j’onder lies my little farm— ; Come, let's together roam; . Make thou my farm a paradise, My little house thy home!”. : : The maiden gnat the mansion glanced, . Then on his breast she hid Her pretty face—did she accept! Conclusion: Katy did. . —St. Louis Journal,

MR. PALMLEAF’S PROPOSAL. WHITE and glistening like a mammoth bridal vail, the December sun lay over all the New Hampshire hills; dark and delicate, like the tracery of lace-work, the leatless woods held up their boughs against the dazzling winter sky—and Rev. Peter Palmleaf, studying over the embryo sermon in his own special sanctum, glanced up where a black-bird was whistling in the casement, and thought to himsdf what a lovely world the Lord had made. Then, all of a sudden, a shrill voice called through the entry: | ¢ Peter, the horse is ready.” | “What horse?’ asked Mr. Palmleaf.- L ¢ Qur horse, to be sure,”” said Miss Paulina, his sister. = = . o “ What for?”’ demanded the parson, staring ° through his = near-sighted spectacles at the door. - “To take you to Mr. Darrow’s.” . “Why am I going to Mr. Darrow’s?”’ [ A ¢ Well, I never!”’ said Miss Paulina, bouncing into the study, with a yellow pocket handkerchief tied around her head, and her sleeves rolled, in a busi-ness-like fashion, up to her elbows. ‘¢ Peter, you grow more mooney and absent-minded every day of your life! Have you forgotten o% discussion at the breakfast table? hy, you were going to Mr. Darrow’s after a girl, to be sure.” ! ‘“A—girl!” repeated the young minister, dreamily, rubbing his forehead. ‘¢ Eh, Ido recall something of the conversation. A hired girl.” ‘“Yes,”” nodded ' the lady, briskly, ‘‘she’s going to leave Mr. Darrow’s this morning, because the family is so large and work so heavy. She can’t find that fault with our establishment, I guess. Ask her how much wages she wants, and how old she is, and ask her whether she has any followers—a follower is the one thing I can’t tolerate tell her, and be: sure you bring her back, and her bundle. I must have'a girl to help me before Cousin Philinda’s folks come from the city.” » ‘““But suppose she won’t come?” said the young minister, dubiously, fitting on the fingers of his gloves. “Then you must make her come,” said Miss Paulina, hurriedly retreating to look after a certain kettle which was noisily boiling over at the back of the house. , : : :

And thus charged with his mission, Rev. Peter Palmleaf got into the onehorse cutter and jingled merrily away. Dr. Darrow’s farm-house nestled under a hill, in the protecting shadow of a cluster of evergreens, with a great fence in front of it, a, red barn at the reay, and a perfect colony of dovehouses at the suany southern angle; and Mr. Darrow himself, a ruddy-faced elderly man, with a fringe of white whiskers around his chin, was shoveling away the pearly masses of snow in front of the door. . “Eh!” said Mr. Darvow, leaning on the handle of his spade, as the bells jingled up in front of the gate, and then stopped. ¢ How! Why, it’s the minister! Good morning, Mr. Palmleaf—good morning. That there Sunday sermon of yours was a masterpiece. Me and Squire Sennex——"" ““Yes,” said Mr. Palmleaf, leisurely alighting and tying the horse to the post. *‘But I have called on business this morning.”’ ‘ For Mr. Palmleaf was emphatically a man of one idea, and for the time being the ‘“hired ;firl’j had chased all the the_olo(‘ry out of his head. “Eh!” said Mr. Darrow, ‘“business?” "~ “I've come after a young woman,” said the minister.”’ : ; Mr. Darrow drogped his spade inthe middle of a snow-drift. : “Do you mean Dolly?”’ he said. . *“lf that's her name—jyes,”” an‘swered the minister, solemnly. - “You don’t mean that—its to be an enga&ement,” cried Mr: Darrow. - “Well, yes—that _is, if we suit each other,” said Mr. Palmleaf, mildly. ¢ Jerusalem!”’ said Mr. Darrow, who

had always heard that Mr. Palmleaf, like most men of genuius, was an ‘“ eccentric,’”’ but had never realized it before. ¢ Have you spoken to her?”’ “Certainly not!”” answered Mr. Palmleaf. << Of course I shouldn’t think of such a thing without seeing you first.” * “ Very straightforward of you. I'm sure,” said the farmer. ¢ Buf, of course, I can have no objection if Dolly herself is suited. Though—'" and he smote one red-mitted hand upon his knee—‘“now I come to think of it, you've never seen Dolly." . ““No!” said the minister. ¢ Butthat need make no difference.”’

‘¢ Je-rusalem!’ again cried the farmer. ‘lt was't the way I looked at things when I was young.” “%‘as.tes differ,”” said Mr. Palmleaf, a little impatient at the long discussion. . “Can I see the young woman?" Oh, of course you can see her,” said Mr. Darrow. ¢‘She iz in the dairy skimming milk. Dolly! Dolly!” raising his voice to a bellow, here’s the Rev. Mr. Palmleaf wants to see you! There’s the door, just to the left, sir.”’ And, in his near-sighted way, the ‘minister stumbled into Farmer Dar‘row’s dairy, where a rosy-cheeked girl, with jet black hair, brushed ‘away from a low, olive-dark brow, and ‘eyes like pools of sherry wine, was skimming the cream: from multitu‘dinous milk-pans intqg a huge stone ot. ‘]? “Young woman,” said Mr. Palmleaf, turning his spectacles upon her ‘amazed face, ‘“do you want to engage yourself?”? ~ ““Bir?” said Dolly, her spoon coming to an abrupt standstill, amid -the wrinkled and leather-like folds of the cream on a particular pan. ‘ln other words,” explained Mr. Palmleaf, ‘“do you want a good home?”’ . ‘¢ Indeed, sir, I nmever thought of such a thing!” said Dolly, in a flurry. ‘‘How old are. you?’ questioned Mr. Palmleaf. b “I am eighteen,” said Dolly, in some confusion. . : ¢« Have you any followers?”’ ¢ Sir?” said Dolly. : | ‘“Beaux, I mean,”” elaborately explained the clergyman. , “QOf course I haven’t,” said Dolly, half inclined to be angry. . ““Then I think you’ll suit me,”’ said Mr. Paliileaf; “¥or rather my sister. Our family isn’t large; the wash is light, and Pauline is a most considerate mistress. Get your buundle.”” . ““ My—what?’ said Dolly, in bewilderment. : ‘ “Your clothes. I am to take you back with me immediately,” said Mr. Palmleaf. - ‘¢ Pauline expects company. It is essential that we have help at once.”’ * Dolly Darrow looked up with cheeks crimsoned like any rose, eyes full of deep, brown sparkles, and around which danced a perfect galaxy of dimples. : , ‘“ Wait a minute,” said she. ¢¢Certainly,” said Mr. Palmleaf. And he sat down on & wooden stdol at the corner, and fell to meditating on the ¢ thirdly’’ of his uncompleted sermon, while Dolly sped up the stairs, three steps at a time. . “Father,” cried she, flying inte the presence.of her parents, ¢ the minister has mistaken me for Bridget.” - ““Eh?” said Mr. Darrow. _ “¢You don’ttell”’ said Mrs. Darrow. ‘“And he wants to hire me,”” said Dolly, with eyes gleaming with fun. “And 'm going! Quick—where’s my hat, and my shawl, and mufflers?”’ Mrs. Darrow rose up and in all the majesty of black silk gown and gold watch-chain— 5 ' ““Dorothy Darrow,”’ said she, ‘““you’re never going to hire out asa servant?? ;o ; .

“Yes, .1 ant,”! sifid Dolly. * It's better than private theatricals. He’s so nice and absent-minded, and Miss Paulina is a jewel! Oh, do make haste, or he’ll be tired of waiting.”’ And Dolly succeeded in carrying her point. Fifteen minutes later she got into the sleigh with a big bundle,which Mr. Palmdeaf stowed snugly under the seal, and the minister drove home with secret exultation. Miss Paulina was in the kitchen, frying sausage . for dinner, - when Dorothy Darrow walked in, with cheeks of carnation, hair blown over her face, and the bundle uader her arm. ““Here I am, Migss Palmleaf,” said she. ¢ The hired help at your service.” . Miss Palmleaf started. ‘““Why, it's Dorothy,”’ said she; ¢ and I sent Peter after Bridget.”’ : ‘“Yes, 1 know,”’ said Dolly, brightly. “But Bridget was gore, and he mis‘took me for her, and he has engaged me to work here. . And, oh, Miss Paulina, don’t undeceive him, because I am a smart little housekeeper, and I can help you just as much as any girl could. Just give me a trigl, that's a%1.” ~_Miss Paulina had a shrewd appreciation of a joke; her hard features re- } laxed with a smile, as she stood looking down at the radiant'little brunette. ““Well,” said she, “I don’t mind if I do.” b by For one manth Dorothy Darrow officiated as hired girl at the parsonage. Then she came to the clergyman one day: : A

‘ Mr. Palmleaf,” said she, «“I'm goin%lto leave the place.” : - r. Palmleaf looked up in amazement and-dismay. *“I hope, Dolly,”” said he, ¢ neither I nor my sister have unwittingly offended you?”? P : ““No,” said Dolly, patting her little foot on the staring green leaves in the study carpet; ¢ but, oh Mr. Palmleaf, I have done so v'vrong, and I do earnestly beg your pardon.” : ““Dolly!” eried out the Reverend Peter, in surprise. o - ‘‘ Because you are good and true,” sobbed the girl; ¢ and I'm not a hired girl, and I only came for a joke, and I can’t bear to think I'm de-de-deceiving you!”’ And Dolly began to cry piteously behind the corner of her.apron. ~ “Youm came here for a joke, eh?” said the minister. - ‘ ‘“Y-yes,”’ confessed Dolly behind her apron. : _ “ Well, then,”’ said the minister, gently drawing her toward him, *‘ suppose you sta.y in earnest. - " ¢ 8ir!” faltered Dolly. :

~ “My dear,” said Mr. Palmleaf, <1 have got used to having you around, and I should miss you terribly if you should leave us. Do you think lam too old to think of a blooming young wife like you?”’ ' “ Not a bit!”’ cried Dolly, indignantly. «Old--you!” Do you like me a little bit?”’ 4 A great deal,” said Dolly, laughing and blushing. . ““Then you will stay with me always?”’ ; : And Dolly promised that she would. Everybody wondered how so bashful a man as Rev. Mr..Palmleaf ever mustered courage for a proposal; but nooody knew t%at‘, the “enfagement” began for a joke and turned out in sober earnest. '

New Postal Regulations. By the provisions of recent acts of Congress, as construed by the Postoffice Department, various important modifications have been made in rates of postage and in the classification of mail matter. As these changes will largely affect the mercantile, insurance and other interests, and as they are at present but imperfeetly understood, the subjoined detailed -information upon the subject has been obtained through inquiry at the Postoffice. It may be relied upon as being in accord with the latest official rulings and decisions of the Department, and as absolutely correct. The rate on commercial vapers, insurance docuuments, papers in legal proceedings, etc., when partly in print and partly in writing, hss heretofore been the same as on letters, viz., three cents per half ounce. All such articles have now, with the exceptions mentioned, been assigned to the third class of mail matter, and as such are chargeable with postage at the rate one cent for each two ounces when sent in unsealed envelopes or wrappers. The exceptions are: If such articles contain writing in the nature of personal correspondence, or are in themselves the representatives of a monetary value. In these’cases they become first-class mail matter, and as such are chargeable with letter rates of postage. According to the latest rulings of the Department (which reverse a number of those recently made under the same law), the specific examples of the exceptions to third-class matter are: Insurance policies signed and in force, daily insurance reports, insurance transfers, notices of premiums due, assignments, transfers, applications for insurance, promissory notes, attached to premiums or not, and all notices from local agents to policy-holders respecting renewals, cancellations, receipts, or other kindred matter; also, all signed notes, checks, drafts, deeds, bonds, bills of lading, receipted bills, and -signed receipts of all kinds. Insurance policies, canceled or incomplete; unreceipted bills, invoices and monthly statements may all be sent at third-class rates of postage. The former restrictions as to writing in books have been removed, to the extent of permitting a simple manuscript dedication, or form of presentation, to be written on the covers or blank pages. Manuscript for publication, when accompanied by proofsheets, may be sent at third-class rates; but, unless so accompanied, is chargeable at letter rates. Architectural and other drawings made by hand, heretofore chargedg at letter rates, are now assigned to the fourth class, and may be sent on payment of postage at one cent per ounce, as may also original paintings in oil or 'water colors, etc. Chromos are rated as third-class matter unless mounted on cloth or pasteboard, in which case they belong to the fourth class. Postage and revenue stamps are now in the fourth class. . :

Articles of glass, formerly excluded from mails, may now be sent at fourthclass rates (one cent per ounce), provided they are secured so as to guard against injury to other mail matter in case of breakage, and are boxed in accordance with certain instructions contained in the Uniled States Postal Guide. Original packages of tobacco and boxes of cigars and other articles sealed by internal revenue stamps, which were formerly charged at letter rates, are now placed in the ‘fourth class by a decision of the Department, which states that they ¢ will regard the stamp placed over the cover or opening of such packages as evidence that no matter is. contained therein which is subject to letter rates of postage.n 3 - ; All persons who desire to avail themselves of the concessions noted above will understand that they involve certain drawbacks. For example, with the single exception of the packages sealed by internal revenue stamps, all mail matter not senv at letter rates must be left open to inspection by the Postoffice authorities. No articles, other than letters and postal cards, can be returned to the senders on request; nor forwdrded to other offices, unless again fully prepaid, in case the persons addresséd have removed; nor can they be advertised; but, if found undeliverable or uncalled for, they will be sent to the Dead-Letter Office. Mail matter of the third and fourth classes is not assorted and put up with, or in the same manner as, letters, being placed loose in canvass sacks and not in locked pouches; and, of course, whenever it is necessary, on account of unusual accumulation of mail matter or for other reasons, to give preference in dispateh, it is always accorded to letter mail.—N. Y. T%mes. iy

Dr. Schliemann Telling About His Newest Discoveries. ‘ I HAVE just returned from Troy, where I had at this time as collaborators two good friends, the celebrated Professor Rudolf Virchow, of Berlin, and the famous Orientalist, Emile Burnouf, of Paris, who, when you were at Athens, was director of the French school here. In their company I have now not only terminated the excavation of the whole Ilion and br_oufht_ to light its entire circuit wall, but I also ggg up and carried away at least 40,cubic meters of debris from its suburb. You have no doubt seen in the papers that last year I found four treasures of gold ornaments at Troy, but now its wealth is exhausted, so that

this spring I only found two treasures, consisting of gold bracelets, gold earrings, with rosettes and long hangings, with idols attached to them; a gold eagle, a breast ornamént of’ gold, with ten chains, each consisting of 155 links, and covered with as many leaves; gold disks, like No. 251 in my Mycenz (collection); also gold ornaments like Nos. 297 and 299 in Mycen®, and a mass of other ornaments, with whose types you are acquainted from my ¢ Troy and Its Remains.”* Of pottery and bronzes I found again a very large quantity; also, some fine jewels of silver, a silver dagger, whose handle is ornamented with a couchant cow with long horns; a silver spoon, with a navel, shield-like ornament in the midst, for libations; | also a large mass of silver rings, fused ‘ together in the great conflagration, ‘and to which have also been fused gold ‘ornaments. In entering the Hellespont ‘you- must have much admired the' gigantic® conical tumuli called heroic tombs. One of them was, in 1873, excavated by Mrs. Schliemann; six more [ explored now, and in that number the two largest of all, ¢ Udjek Tepe’’ and ¢ Besica Tepe,’” the former of which is eighty-three feet high and is 433 feet in diameter; I tunneled it and sunk a shaft from the top, and found in it a quadrangular tower, fif- i teen feet long and brcad and fortythree feet high, which had been built on a circle five feet high, built of beautifully fitting polygonal blocks, and having a radius of about twenty feet. ‘ Digging galleries to the right and left, as well as into the quadrangular tower, and sinkin% again shafts from the galleries, found very ancient pottery mixed with pottery of the Macedonian time. But there were also picked up some potsherds, for which I cannot claim more than the second or third century A. D.; and as the tumuli can impossibly be older than the latest pottery found beneath them, I would attribute the tumulus Udjek Tepe to the Emperor Caracalla (211-216 A. D.), who, according to Herodotus, made funeral sacrifices at the tumulus of Achilles and poisoned his most intimate friend, Festus, in order to get a patroclus, and to be able to imitate the funeral which Achilles made to his friend, and which -Homer describes with so much beauty in the twenty-third Iliad. This theory also seems to be confirmed by the side of the tumulus, because such a vain fool as Caracalla only could erect a gigantic tumulus to his poisoned friend. In ‘“Besica Tepe” I sunk a large shaft and dug from its bottom four long galleries. I merely found there very ancient pottery, precisely of the same type as that found in the upper strata of the first Trojan city. If, therefore, we claim for this tumulus 1500 B. C., we are probably near the mark. In none of the tumuli did I find human bones or trace of burial. You are no doubt aware that in ancient and modern times it was generally believed that the plain of Troy has been produced by the alluvia of its rivers, Scamander and Simois; that there was at the time of the Trojan war'a deep gulf in the plain, and that there was, consequently, between Ilion and the Hellespont not sufficient room for the grand exploits of the Iliad. This theory, which in times of old was advocated by Hestizea, of. Alexandria Troas, by Demetrius and by Strabo; this theory, which for the !ast ninety years has been the powerful weapon in the hands of the defenders of the TroyBunarbashi theory; this theory is now blown up, because Prof. Virchow and M. Burnouf and I have found by our excavation in the plain that the rivers do not go deeper than five to eight feet, and that underneath is that compact, fine, yellow clay which is the deposit of a sweet-water lake, and by long ages older than the Trojan rivers and the Hellespont itself.—From an Athens ‘ (Greece) Letter to Troy (N. Y.) Times.

Too Many Snake Bites. DurinG the haying season an honest old farmer out on the Gratiot road employed three young mnien from the city to help cut and store his timothy. None of them liked work half as well as whisky, and a conspiracy was the result. About noon one day one of the trio fell down in the field, shouting and kicking, and the other two ran to the farmer with wild eyes ‘and called out that their companion had been bitten by a rattlesnake and must have whisky. The farmer rushed to the house and brought out a quart, and the three harvesters got a big drink all around on the sly, while the ‘¢ bitten’” one had a lay-off of half a day. The next forenoon a second one was bitten, and again the farmer rvshed for his bottle. It was a nice little job for the boys, and on the third ddy the third one put in his claim for a bite, and yelled for the whisky bottle. The farmer took the matter very coolly this time, and after making particular inquiries as to the size of the snake, location of the bite, the sensation, and so forth, he slowly continued: ““Day before yesterday James was bitten, and drank a quart of good whisky. Yesterday John was bitten and drank a quart more. To-day you’ve got a bite, and the best thing you can do is to smell their breaths and lay in the shade while the rest of us eat dinner!” . The man got well in ten minutes, and not ancther rattlesnake was seen during the season.— Detroit Free Press.

—An old man fell dead in Mansfield, Pa., on Sunday night recently, while sitting in the parlor where his daughter and her young man were sparking. It may be that.the conduct of the young cougle‘ sickened thre old man and cause his death; but it will do no. harm and perhaps much ‘good to cut this paragraph out and :sfiow it to the old folks who are addicted to sticking in the parlors on Sunday evenings, when their daughter’s beau wants to tell her a great ma%y secrets and so forth.— Norristown. Herald S

THE cactus grows to & wonderful size in Arizona. One varie? grows to the height of sixty feet, and measures six feet in diameter. There are fifteen or twenty varieties, three of which bear fruit that is highlg prized by the Indians, who depend largely upon them for sustenance. ; : :

9 Youths’ Department. THE CHANGE. Our of the long white dresses : And into the dainty frocks: ey Little blue shoas with buttons, L In place of the worsted socks; No lqn(%gr a helpless baby, . : . Carried in arms all day, But a restless, mischievous fellow, Brimming with frolic and play; Getting himself into troubles gy That seemingly have no end; : Tearing ** bid holes’” in his dresses, ' For patient mamma to mend ; Bumping his curly round noddle, Which mamma's soft kisses must cure; And meeting a hundred misfortunes, Which babies must learn to endure. Too soon I shall lose my dady, And do the best that I can B To welcome the magicdl power Which changes the boy to man/ Oh! would that the I{Eea.rs were slower In rolling the months away; And would that for many a season My baby a child might stay ! . I wonder how is he dearer, : ? As only a babe on my breast? Or changed to this roguish fellow Whose feet are never at rest? Is a rosebud ani/ the sweeter Betore ’tis a full-blown rose? . Ah! the love that is born with the baby. Must grow as the baby grows! —Aafary D. Brine,in N, Y. Independent,

THE BOY WHO BECAME A WHEEL. ‘1 WOULDN'T.”’ % | That is what Ping Wee’s mother said. v g T will.”? ‘ ‘ , That is what Ping Wee did not say, but what Ping Wee thought. *Ping Wee, if you keep turning over and over so you will catch it. You ‘will have trouble, ‘¢ said his mother. As before, Ping Wee said nothing, meaning to do just as he had done before. . The very wise booby. ) So Ping Wee kept at it, standing on his head, .turning somersaults, doing outwardly asthe silent Ping Wee thought fit inwardly. o One time Ping Wee made a turn or two, but found to his surprise thal?&le kept turning. At first, he was greatly delighted. It had been his ambition to make four or five successive turns without stopping. \ _ .. ‘*Won’t Chang Pi and Hang Ho, my chums, envy me when they see me?” thought Ping Wee. ~ But be began to be a little alarmed when he found he could not stop. If he could have stopped one would have seen that his pig-tail stuck right out with fright. At last he was going like his granny’s spinning-wheel, over and over, round and round, whi-r-r-r. - ‘““What’s that?”’ said his granny Tang Tee, looking out of her little yel-low-framed window. ¢‘ls it a big gooseberry rolling off, a cheese, a grindstone, or my spinning-wheel? Dear me, my spinning-wheel!” She ran to herfavorite corner. There was her ancient and beloved spinningwheel all right in its place. What else the flying object might be, big gooseberry, cheese or grindstone, she could not say. If she had only known it was her dear Ping Wee rolling on to threatened destruction! As for Ping Wee, he groaned and cried out as hesaw her, ‘¢ Oh, why don’t granny come and stop me! Tut, tut!” he exclaimed ~suddenly, ¢ what is thatVd. :

Tl}ere was reason for saying, ¢ Tut, tut! : -Right ahead were his two chums, Chang Pi and Hang Ho. Chang was holding a big kite for Hang to fly. "¢ Look out!”’ said Ping Wee; ¢“look out for your kite, dear Chang.” ; Chang couldn’t hear, any more than his father a mide off in his tea-shop, Ping Wee made such a racket turning. The next thing Ping Wee did was to go crashing through the kite. How could he help it? Ping Wee did not, could not, stop to repair da.ma%_(les or even offer an explanation. e left the astonished Chang to his own reflections. “V§hat next?’’ thought Ping Wee. ¢ Oh, dear me, that apple-woman!’ It was old Mm; Tong Fa at the corner. { She had a magnificent heap of applespiled upon herred and green table. The apples were as shapely as a conical pile of cannon balls in an arsenal-yard, ‘and handsome as the red balls of yarn that Ping Wee’s granny spun. ‘ - While Tong Fa was admiring her apple-heap something awful” came. What it was shenever could imagine. It took my breath away,’”’ she declared to the rat-peddler the next day. *But what was it?”’ he asked. ' ¢“Oh, I couldn’t say. A great, round, horrid—a great, round, horrid —a great, round, horrid——"’ There she stopped. * : ; : It was Ping Wee. He saw the disaster, but could not prevent it. He struck. that heap in the middle, and away went those apples as if veritable cannon-balls sent out of the mouth of a columbiad. ‘

- Poor, pitiful, persecuted Ping Wee! ¢ What next, this hot July day?”’ 'Yes, what next? Say quick, for he is turning fearfully fast. : ; “Dear me!” thought Ping Wee, ‘“there’s an oak tree. Letme steer out of its way. It will surely kill me.” _Steer out of its way! No, sir, impossible. On came poor Pingie, trembling, shivering, anticipating certain death. At full speed ang with all his power, he struck that tree. ¢ Ugh, ugh, ugh-h-h!” : Ping Wee was sitting up in bed, rubbing his eyes, shivéring as if he had been running a western laundry -and had caught the ague. : “ Where am I?” he said. *¢Oh, my head!”’ : ‘ ‘He crawled to the window. Up in the sky there was a big yellow moon with a train of little clouds like a big kite with a small bob-tail. S The man in the moon winked at Ping Wee as much as to say: ; “That is what naughty boys have, ugly dreams and all sorts of scarecrows, when they persist in turning over. You have had a rush of blood to your head. It hurts you. You had better stop. And another thing, Ping Wee, boys sometimes %et in the habit of saying-or doing naughty things, and they find it hard to stop. Look ouifor your habits. Don’t make a wheel of yourself. You had better not swear or lie. St&? right off.” i Pinl% ee stopped.—llllustrated Christian Weekly. g

_How Tony Sold Resebuds, . . HE was only a dog, but a Yery smart dog indeed. He belonged to the class ‘known as shepherd dogs, which are noted for their sagacity and fidelity. His master was a little Italian -hoy, called Beppo, who earned his living by selling flowers on the street. o Tony was very fond of Beppo, who had been his master ever since he was a puppy; and Beppo had never failed to share his crust with his good dog. Now Tony had grown to be a large,, strong do% and took as much care of Beppo as Beppo took of him. Often, while standing on the corner with his ‘basket on his arm, waiting for a customer, Beppo would feel inclined to~ cry for . very loneliness; but Tony seemed to know when. the ‘¢ blues"™ came, and would lick his master’s hand, as much as to say, ‘ You've got me for a friend. Cheer up! I'm bet‘ter than nobody! Tl’ll stand by you.” i But one day it happened that when ‘the boys, who shared the dark cellar‘home with Beppo, went. out early in the morning as usual, Beppo was so ill that he could hardly lift his head from the straw on which he slept. He felt that he would be unable to sell flowers that day. What to do he did not krow. Tony did his best to comfort himj; but the tears would gather in his eyes, and it was with the greatest difficulty that he at last forced himself to get up and go to the florist,” who lived near by, for the usual supply of buds. Having filled his basket, the boy went home again and tied it round Tony’s neck. Then he looked at the dog, and said, ‘““Now, Tony, you are the ovnhy fellow I've got to depend on. Go and sell my flowers for me, and bring the money home safe, and don’t let ‘any one steal anything.”” Then he kissed the dog, and pointed to the door. , Tony trotted out in the street to Beppo’s usual corner, where he gravely took his stand. Beppo’s customers soon saw how matters stood, and chose their flowers and put the money in the tin cup within the basket. Now and then, when a rude boy would come along and try to snatch a flower from the basket, Tony would growi fiercely and drive him away. - So that - day went safely by, and at nightfall Tony went home to his master, who was waiting anxiously to see him, and gave him a hearty welcome. Beppo untied the basket, and looked in the cup, and I shouldn’t worder if be found more money in it than he ever did before. : o That is how Tony sold the rosebuds; and he did it so.well, that Beppo never tires of :telling about it.—Mary D. Brine, in- Nursery. = G

: A Talk to Boys. - Dip you ever know a boy, when he . began in. earnest to work for a living, who ever had wages enough? Somehow salaries and wants never do keep pace with each other. There are not many who, like an old philosopher, can walk along the streets of a gay city and note the tempting wares set out on every side, and ig_et say, how many things there are that I do not want! Yet if you can get a little into this way of looking at the luxuries of life, it will be a great help'to your peace of mind. And it is' a very singular fact that most fortunes have been laid on small foundations. [aik e A great merchant was accustomed to | tell his many clerks that he laid the foundation of - his prosperity when he used to chop wood at twenty-five cents a cord. Whenever he was tempted to squander a quarter he would say: : ¢ There-goes a cord of wood!"’ He learned in early years a lesson in practical economy. An old woman had been for many years ‘hangin% about the wharves where vessels were loaded and unloaded in New York, intent upon picking up the grains of coffee, rice, etc., that were by ehance scattered on the piers. The other day she was badly hurt by some heavy bags of grain falling on her. The kind merchant took up a purse for ‘old Rosa and sent her to her home in Hoboken, in charge of an officer.. What was his surprise to find that the neat and handsomelyfurnished cottage was the property of the grain picker! She had literally built -and furnished it, as the coral workers do their homes, grain by grain. Do not be discouraged though your profits are small. If you cannot increase the income, the only way out of the difficulty is to cut down the wants. Turn every grain te the best account, and as prices go you will be able to %et : a vast amount'of real comfort.out of a small income. The habits you are forming are also of the greatest importance, and may be made t_;he foundation stones of agreat prosperity.—Home Weekly. o st g : :

Too Many Graveyards. SOMEBODY tells a story of a traveler who put up at a Boston hotel. He was given a room in the rear of the buildirg, and the first sight which met his eye in the morning was a gloomy expanse of graveyard right under his window. He was a man of sensitive nature, and the landscapeé spoiled his appetite for that day. As soon as'his day’s work or pleasure was over, he quietly removed his baggage to another house. Here he asked for.a front room and went to sleep 'in peace; but in -the morning, as before, Aurora’s gentle beams gilded a dazzling array o tombstones across the street in the King’s Chapel graveyard. The gentleman had another day’s bad digestion, but, being of courageous disposition, he made a third trial and expressly stipulated that he should not be given a Eack room nor a front one. The gentlemanly elerk assigned him a ccheerful parlor on the west side, and the guest went to bed happy. He arose feelm% decidedly more cheerful, and drew his curtains to fedst his gaze on the old Granary Cemetery, with tombstones three hundred years old moldering before him. 1t was too much for the stranger. He paid his -bill and departed to l,u’mt‘ug a town ‘¢ where it wasn’t 8o unhealt ay that they had to have a %}aveya.t attached to every

—When a number of doctors are called in to see a patient it is genera.lloy supposed the patient will die.—XN. O.