Pike County Democrat, Volume 28, Number 44, Petersburg, Pike County, 11 March 1898 — Page 3

S"he skies cannot always be clear. My dear. merries eye must still have its tear. My dear; H The clouds that are frowning above us to-day "Will presently break and go floating away, JLnd the skies will be blue that are sullen and gray. My dear! Te can’t have just happiness here. My dear, Tou would never be glad If you ne’er shed a tear. My dear; The sorrow that lurks In your bosom to-day. Xlke the clouds, when you’ve wept, will go floating away, .And the skies will be blue that are sullen and gray. My dear! If It’s going to rain. It will rain. My dear, * J»o matter how bitterly we may complain. My dear; There are sorrows that every good woman must bear; There are griefs in which every good man has a share. It Is only the fool who has never a care. My dear! The skies cannot always be clear. My dear, Sweets wouldn't be sweet were no bitterness here. My dear: There could never be Joy if there never were sorrow. The sobs of to-day may be laughter tomorrow, JLnd there's gladness as well as vain trouble to borrow, v My dear! ■—8. E. Kiser, in Cleveland Leader. BURG. (Sountgflmomt

TT WAS a beautiful morning. Not a I cloud*in the June sky, not a leaf •stirring on the old cottonwood-tree by the spring. The cattle, after a restless | night, were lying in elose order and lazily chewing the cud, or stretched out broadside on the thick green carpet. On the edge of the bunch, a tew calves were frisking about with tails up. and one impatient youngster was butting away at his drowsing mother with a vigorous suggestion that it was time to rise and furnish forth the morning meal. On an adjacent hill the horsewrangler, still draped to the heels in the yellow slicker he had donned in the thunder-shower of the night, sat idly In the saddle with a hand on his horse's liips, looking away over the pea-green range of early summer to where the mountain-tops glowed in the rising sun. The cook’s fire of damp wood, I kindled directly under the tree, sent up .* a thick smoke which spread throughout the branches but collected above them, extending one straight, slender, loftv column into the blue. Some blackbirds were scolding about being smoked out of their leafy home, and on every side resounded the mellow notes of the meadow-lark. It was a beautiful morning—but no •one in camp,was happy, for every man’s clothes were wet. and Mike Tnssler had | the toothache. Now, it is well-known that when the big back tooth of a big buck Irishman takes a notion to ache, j It is n wholly different proposition from an ordinary ease of mal de dents. “You don’t know anything about it.” ! l Alike declared; “this isn’t just toofh-j i ache. It aches all over. Did you ever I see one of them fiery comets with a ’ |ong5 forked tail onto a bright head? AYelU this pain is just like that. Mv j tooth's the rtjd-hot head of the thing, r and Jhc (Kills are going all through me.” I Mike lay down on his back and the ■Cook looked in his mouth. I “Did yon ever see a chestnut or acorn j I with a worm hole in it? That's the way I with your tooth. Just a little bit of a ; & hde right into it. It's a terrible small ] ■ hole to worry about,”

I k “Nothing small about the feel of it,” j said Tussler; and he asked for a day off to go and yet it “yanked.” » - He could not be spared that day, but | the next morning went away to the nearest town. It was always a day's ride; and. as is the preverse way of aching teeth, his began to feel much better | when he came in sight of the village, j lie felt so much relieved by the time he had ridden down the one street, with ! its square-front, one-story wooden' buildings, that when he was finally j «ealed in the dentist's chair he didn't : want tofjwive the tooth pullet!. **! was just coming along the street." j he said to the dentist, “and 1 saw your ; brand on the door. So I come in to ask you to look in my mouth and tell me how old 1 be.” "Old enough to take better care of j your teeth." he announced, after look-; ing them over. “Have 1 got to have the lasso omthat j ’tfhek one?" asked Tussler. “You have got to have it filled at ■ once.” “What'll it cost?" asked the cautious Irishman. "Three dollars," said the dentist; “I use only the best materials and have -but one price." i “Well," said Mike, "it don’t hurt any i now; I guess I won't let the job to-day.” j “That’s robbery,” he assured him- I .-•elf, as he went away to copper the ace ! -for five and lose it; “the cook said it was 1 •an awful small hole." The next morning, however, his tooth ! having meanwhile resumed- business, he was waiting at the door when the •dentist came down. “You don't get up so early as we do on -the range.by about four hours," said he; '•*! been standing here all night. I want |ne tooth filled full.” • So Mike had the work done and paid 41tr cants extra for canning the turn.

“And the whole thing didn't take him an hour,,” he reported when he returned to camp; “I’ve been robbed." - Mike clings to an opinion with propel tenacity, and the conviction that the dentist had “beat him out of good twc dollars’* laid a debt and a duty upon him which he had no idea of shirking. “What you going to do about it?” the boys asked. “Wait," says Mike. The hard routine work of the spring round-up went on for some weeks. Again the boys asked: “What are you going to do about your dentist?” “Wait,” says Mike, again. When there is work to be done, a cowcamp is stirring at daybreak. Getting out in the gray dawn one morning, it was seen that a regular tenderfoot outI fit, with tents, had come in during the | night and pitched their camp near the I cowboys. Mike strolled over and poked his head into several covered wagons, bringing back the report that no one was awake. “What are they loaded with?” was asked. “Fertilizer.” said Mike. “Come off,” they all cried; “not In those dude wagons." “Give you my word,” insisted Tuss- j | ler; “not a thing in ’em but old bones.” About this time Mike became very solicitous -for the safety of his bed-roll. “Handle it like eggs,” he told the driver of the mess-wagon; “it’s loaded.” When the outfit got around to the home-ranch, and there was at length a few days rest for horses and men. Tussler said: “Boys. I’ve got to see my I dentist again. Come along to town.” They came along to the number of eight, and leaving them at the Cayuse saloon. Mike went over and had an interview with the dentist. “You remember.” he said, “plugging J a tooth for me last spring?” The dentist remembered very well. “Isn’t it all right?” “Sure." said he; “and I got a friend who likes it so well that he wants me to let the job of fixing one for him.” #“I have but one price for filling," said the dentist. “But this is a big back tooth that’ll i take more metal to fill it than mine,” j insisted Mike. “The size of the cavity has nothing , to do with it. Unless I have to kill the | nerve, the price is absolutely the same.” j “I think the nerve is already dead in his’n,” ventured Mike. “When can he I come?”

' leu mm to come to-morrow alternoon,” said the dentist, and added, facetiously: “and bring his tooth vrftt him.” “Yessir.” said Mike. The boys killed time as best the\ might until the appointed hour. Then with becoming gravity—Tussier leading and the cook second—they filet: into the dentist's office. There was scant room for nine men. but they ranged themselves against the wall and Mike said, with a wave of the hand: “These are all my friends, but*”indicating the'cook, “this is my particulai friend that I spoke to you about.” “And this.” said the cook, stepping forward and depositing on the table a large parcel. ”is my tooth.” “Open it,” said Tussler. The dentist did so, revealing to his astonished gaze a tooth of Brobdingna ginn size. Its length was not less thai

“THAT'S THE TOOTH.” SAID MIKE ten inches, of corresponding breadth aod thickness. It had a cavity equal to I. cubic inches.! “That's the topth," said Mike.“The- is one on me, boys.” said tha dentist; “come over to the Cayuse.” ' “Fill the tooth first,” suggested Tuss- | ler. “Yes,” said the boys. ih chorus. The dentist looked at the tooth, ho looked at the nine impassive faces along the wall. “Why, certainly,” he said. - s . It took all the alloy, amalgam, cement, concrete and gutta-percha in the laboratory; bat it was done to the sat- I isfaction of Mike and his friends, who assured the dentist of their future patronage and filed out as solemnly as they had come. “How did you make the big hole in it ?v asked one. “The blacksmith did it," repliedTussler. Prof. March, of Hale college, has long mourned the loss of a magnificent specimen of the mammoth tooth—one of three secured on his last fossil-hunting expedition to the bad lands. It disappeared upon the return trip and has never been accounted for. Should these lines meet the professor's eyes, he is advised to seek his property in a dentist's window in a certain small town on the overland railway.—■ San Francisco Argonaut. Every Pea a Foaatata Pea. Ordinary pens can be changed Into fountain pens by a new device, consisting of a spring clip with a point shaped like a pen and adapted to fit over the upper aide of the pen and form a reservoir with a small outlet for the ink just over the nib of the pen. —We wouldn't enjoy being a lawyer, because if the advice they give folks doesn't suit them they kick.—Washing* ton Democrat.

WOBLD of knowledge. Rev. Dr. Talmage Contrasts Earthly and Celestial Vision. TUafi We Do Not Comprehend Now WU1 . Be Bade Plain Hereafter- God'* Mercy and Providence and Greatness Will Be BeTealed. The following discourse by Rev. T. DeWltt T&lmage presents % picture of mighty contrasts, comparing the dimness of earthly eyesight with the vividness of celestial vision: The text is: For now we see through a glass, darkly: but then face to face.—I Corinthians xilL. 18. The Bible is the most forcefdl and pungent of books. While it has the sweetness of a mother's hush for human trouble, it has all the keenness of a scimeter and the crushing power of a lightning-bolt. It portrays with more than a painter’s power, at one stroke picturing a Heavenly throne and a judgment conflagration. The strings of this great harp are fingered byall the splendors of the future, now sounding with the crackle of consuming worlds, now thrilling with the joy of the everlasting emancipated. It tells how one forbidden tree in the garden blasted the earth with sickness and death, and how another tree, though* leafless and bare, yet, planted on Calvary, shall yield a fruit which shall more than antidote the poison of the other. It tells how the red-ripe clusters of God's wrath were brought to the wine-press, and Jesus trod them out; nnd how, at last, all the golden chalices of Heaven shall glow with the wine of that awful vintage. It dazzles the eye with an Ezekial's vision of wheel and wing, and fire, and whirlwind; and stoops down so low that it can put its lips to the ear of a dying child and say: ‘‘Come up higher.*’ And yet l*aul, in my text, takes the responsibility of saying that it is only an indistinct mirror, and that its mission shall be suspended. I think there may be one Bible in Heaven, fastened to the throne. . Just us now. in a museum, we have a lamp exhumed from Hereulaneura or Xinevah, and we look at it with great interest and say: “How poor a light it must have given compared with our modern lamps!” So I think that this Bible, which was a lamp to our feet in this world, may lie near the throne of God. exciting our interest to all eternity by the contrast between its comparatively feeble light and the illumination of Heaven. The Bible now is the scaffolding to the rising temple, but when the building is done there will be no use for the scaffolding.

The idea I shall develop to-day is that in this world our knowledge is comparatively dim and unsatisfactory, but nevertheless .is introductory to grander and more complete vision. This is eminently true in regard to our vif*.- of Uod. We hear so much about Hou that we conclude that we understand Him. He is represented as having the tenderness of a father, the firmness of a judgt*. the majesty of a king and the love of a mother. We hear about Him. talk about Him, write about Him. We lisp His name in infancy, and it trembles on the tongue of the dying octogenarian. We think that we know very much about Him. Take the attribute of mercy. Do we understand it? The Bible blossoms all over with that word—mercy. It speaks again and again of the tender mercies of Hod; of the sure mercies; of the great mercies; of the mercy that endureth forever; of the multitude of His mercies. And yet I know that the views we have of this Great Being are most indetinit#, onesided and incomplete. When, at death, the gates shall fly open, and we shall look directly upon Him, how ney and surprising! We see upon canvas a picture of the morning. We study the cloud in the sky, the dew upon the grass ami the husbandman on the way to the field. Beautiful picture of the morning! But we rise at daybreak and go up on a hill to see for ourselves that which was represented to us. While we look the mountains are transfigured. The burnished gates of Heaven swing open and shut. tv> let past a host of fiery splendors. The clouds are all abloom, and

lii.mil pvLlvtC’iAt m#»u at wtaui ami amethyst. The waters make pathway of inlaui pearl for the light to walk upon, and- there is morning on the sea. The crags uncover their scarred visage, and there is morning among the mountains. Mow you go home, and how tame your picture of morning seems in contrast! Greater than that shall be the contrast between this scriptural view of God and that which we shall have when standing face to face. This is a picture of the morning that will be the morning itself. Again, my text is true of the Saviour's excellency. By image, and sweet ryhthm of expression, and startling antithesis, Christ is set forth—llis love, Hi’s compassion. His work. His life. His death. His resurrection. We are challenged to measure it. to compute it. to weigh it. In the hour of our broken enthrallment we mount up into high experience of His love, and shout until the countenance glows, and the blood bounds, and the whole nature is exhilarated. “I have found Him!" And yet it is through a glass, darkly. We see not half of that compassionate faee. We see not half the warmth of that loving heart. We wait for death to let us rush into His outstretched arms. Then we shall be face to face. Not shadow then, but substance. Not hope then, but the fulfillment of all prefigurment. That will be a magnificent unfolding. The rushitig out in view of all hidden excellencr, the coming again of a longabsent Jesus to meet us—not in rags, and in penury, and death, but amidst a light, and pomp, and ontbursting joy such as none but a glorified intelligence 4onld experience. Oh! to gaze full upon the brow that was lacerated, upon the side that was pierced, upon the feet that were nailed; to stand close up in the presence of Him who prayed for ua on the mountain, and

thought of us by the sea, and agonized for vs in the garden, and died for us in horrible crucifixion; to feel of Him, to embrace Him, to take His hand, to kiss His feet, to run our fingers along the scars of ancient suffering; to say: “This is my Jesus! He gave Himself for me. I shall never leave His presence. I shall forever behold His glory. I shall certainly hear His voice. Lord Jesus, now I see Thee! I behold where the blood started, where the tears coursed, where the face was distorted. I have waited for this hour. I shall never turn my back on Thee. No more looking through imperfect glasses. No more studying Thee in the darkness. But, as long as this throne stands, and this everlasting river flows, and those garlands bloom, and these arches of victory remain to greet home Heaven’s conquerors, so long I shall see Thde, Jesus of my choice; forever and forever—face to face!” The idea of the text is just as true when applied to Qod's providence. Who has not come to some pass in life thoroughly inexplicable? You say: “What does this mean? What is God going to do with me? He tells me that all things work together for good. This does not look like it.” You continue to study the dispensation, and I after awhile guess about what God means. “He means to teach me this. I think He means to teach me that. Perhaps it is to humble my pride. Perhaps it is to make mu feel more i dependent. Perhaps to teach me | the uncertainty of life.” But j after ail, it is only a guess—a j looking through the glass, darkj lv. The Bible assures us there shall j be a satisfactory unfolding. “What I do thou knowest not now; but thou shalt know hereafter.” You will know j why God took to Himself that only child. Next door there was a household of seven children. Why not take one from that group, instead of your only one? Why single out the dwelling in which there was only one heart ! beating responsive to yours? Why did | God give you a child at all, if He j meant to take it away? Why fill the cup of your gladness brimming,, if He meant to dash it down? Why allow the tendrils of your heart to wind around that object, and then, when interlocked with the child’s life, with strong hand to tear you apart, until you fall, bleeding and crushed, your dwelling desolate, your hopes blasted, your heaat broken? Do you suppose that God will explain that? Yea. He will make it plainer than any mathemathieal problem—as plain as that two and two make four. In the light of the throne you will see that it | was right—all right. “Just and true : are all Thy ways, Thou King of Saints.”

Here is a man who ean not pet on m the world. He always seems to buy at the wrong" time and to sell at the worst disadvantage. He tries this enterprise, and fails: that business, and is disappointed. The man next door to him has a lucrative trade, but he laeks cttstomers. A new prospect opens. His income is increased. Hut that year bis family are sick; and the profits are expended in trying to cure the ailments. He gets a discouraged look. Becomes faithless as to success. Begins to expect disasters. Others wait for something to turn up; lie waits'for it to turn down. Others, with only half as much education and character, get on twice as well. He sometimes guesses as to what it means. He says: “Perhaps riches would spoil me. Perhaps poverty is necessary to keep me humble. Perhaps I might, if things were otherwise, be tempted into dissipations.*’ But there is no complete solution of the mystery. He sees through a glass darkly, and must wait for a higher unfolding. Will there be an explanation? Yes: Clod will take that man in the light of the throne and say: “Child immortal, hear the explanation! Y'ou remember the failing of that great enterprise—your misfortune in 1858; your disaster in l$t)7. This is the explanation.*’ And yon will answer: "It is all right.*’

! I see. every day. profound mysteries of Providence. There is no question we ask oftencr than Why? There are hundreds of graves in Oak Hill and* Greenwood and Laurel Hill that need to be explained. Hospitals for the blind and lame, asylums for the idiotic and insane, almshouses for the destitute, and a world of pain and misfortune that demand more than human solution. Ah! God will clear it all up. In the light that pours from the throne. no dark mvstery can live. Things now utterly inscrutable will be illumined as plainly as though the answer were written on the jaspef wall, or sounded in the temple unthiun. liartimeus will thank God that he was blind: and Lazarus that he w^s covered with sores; and Joseph that he was cast into the pit; and Daniel that he denned with lions; and l*uul that he was humpbacked; and David that he was driven into Jerusalem: and that sevying-woman that she could get only a few pence for making a garment; and that invalid that for 20 years he could not lift his head from the pillow; and that widow that ! she had such hard work to earn bread i for her children. You know that in a ! song different voices carry different parts. The sweet and overwhelming part of the hallelujah of Heaven will not be carried by those who rode in high places, and grave sumptuous entertainments. but pauper children will sing it. beggars will sing it, redeemed hod-carriers will sing it, those who were once the off-scouring of the earth will sing it. The hallelujah will toe all the grander for earth's weeping eyes, and aching heads, and exhausted hands, and scourged hacks, and martyred agonies. Again: The thought of the text is just when applied to the enjoyments of the righteous in Heaven. 1 think we have but little idea of the number of the righteous in Heaven. Intidels say: “Your Heaven will be a very small place compared with the world of the lost; for, according to your teaching the majority of men will be destroyed.” I denv the chaise. I suppose that

the multitude of the finally loot, aa compared with the multitude of the finally saved, will be a handful. I suppose that the few sick people in the hospital to-day, as compared with the hundreds of thousands of well people in the city, would not be smaller than the number of those who shall be cast out in suffering, compared with those who shall hSv^~upon them the health of Heaven. For we are to remember that we are living in comparatively the beginning of the Christian dispensation, and that this world is to be populated and redeemed, and that ages of light and love are to Sow on. If this be so, the multitudes of the saved will be in vast majority. Take all the congregations that have to-day assembled for worship. Put them together and they would make but a.small audience compared with the thousands and tens of thousands, and ten thousand times ten thousand, and the hundred and forty and four thousand that shall stand around the throne. Those flashed up to Heaven in martyr fires; those tossed for many years upon the ■- invalid couch; those fought in the armies \ of liberty, and rose as they fell; those tumbled from high scaffoldings, or slipped from the mast, or were washed off into the sea. They came up from Corinth, from Laodicea, from tihe Red sea bank and Gennesaret's wave, from Egyptian brick yards, and Gideon's threshing floor. Those, thousands of years ago, slept the last sleep; and these are this moment having tpeir eyes closed and their limbs stretched out for the sepulchre. A general expecting an attack from the enemy stands on a hill and looks through a field-glass, and sees, in the great distance, multitudes approaching, but he has no idea of their numbers. He says: “I can not tell anything about them. I merely know that there are a great number. ’’ And so John, without attempting to count, says: “A great multitude that no mam can number.” We are told that Heaven iv a place of happiness; but what do we know about happiness? Happiness in this world is only a half-fledge thing; a flowery path, with a serpent hissing across it: a broken pitcher, from which the water has dropped before we could drink it; a thrill of exhilaration, folt lowed by disastrous reactions. To help us understand the joy of Heaven, the Bible takes us to a river. We stand on the grassy bank. We see the waters flow on with ceaseless wave. But the tilfrh of the cities are emptied into it; a*ri the banks are torn; and unhealthy exhilarations spring up from it; and we fail to get an idea of the River of Life in Heaven.

\v e pet very imperfect ideas of the reunions of Heaven. We think of some festal day on earth, when father- and mother were yet living, and the children came home. A pood time that Hut it had this drawback—all were not there, That brother went off to sea, and never was heard from. That sister —did we not lay her away in the freshr ness of her young life, never more in this world to look upon her? Ah! there was a skeleton at the feast; and tears mingled with our laughter on that Christmas day. Not so with HeaYeiT* reunions. It will be an uninterrupted gladness. Many a Christian parent will look around and find all his chilr dren there. **Ah!” he says, “can it;bo possible that weare all here, life's perils over? The Jordan passed, and not on© wanting? Why, even the prodigal ia h^re. I almost gave \iim up. How long he despised my counsels! but grace hath triumphed. All here! all here! Tell the mighty joy through the city. Let the bells ring, and the angels mention it in their song. Wave it from the top of the walls. All here!’’ No more breaking of heart-string*, but face to face. The orphans that were left poor, and in a merciless world, kicked and cuffed of man}- hardships, shall join their parents, over whose graves they so long wept and gaze into their glorified countenances, forever, face to face. We may come up from different parts of the world, one from the land and another from the* dept lis of the sea; from lives affluent and prosperous, or from scones of ragged distress; but we shall all meet in rapture and jubilee, face to face.

‘ Many of our friends hare e&tered upon that joy. A few days ago they sat with us studying these Gospel themes; hut they only saw through a glass. darkly—now revelation hath come. Your time will also come. God will not leave you floundering iin thedarkness. You stand wonder-struck and amazed. • You feel as if all tJhe loveliness of life were dashed out. You stand gazing into the open chasm of the grave. Wait a little. In the presence of your departed, and of Him who carries them in His bosom, you shall soon stand face to face. Oh. that our last hour may kindle up with this promised joy! • May we be able to say, like the Christian not long ago. departing: “Though a pilgrim, walking through the valley, the mountain tops are gleaming from peak to peak!*’ Or, like my dear friend and brother, Alfred Ceokman. who took his flight to the throne of God, saying in his last moment that which has already gone into Christian classics: “1 am sweeping through the pearly gate, washed in the blood of the Lamb!” The Spirit. The man is more than his trade. The spirit that is in each man craves other nourishment than the bread he wins.— Kev. Su W. Dana, Presbyterian, Philadelphia, Pa. The Power of Love. With love the impassable is ocidged, the impossible is done. All that is done comes from loTe.—Rev. J. JL Smith, Presbyterian, LonisviUe, Ky. The Secret Spring. God will touch the secret spring of your sins some day, and they will come, tramp, tramp, tramp, to meet you.—D. ; L. Moody, Evangelist, Boston. Mass.

A WORD OF ADVICE T» Those Cemla* to Alaska or tte Klondike Qeld Field*. One thing should be impressed upon every miner, prospector or trader com* ing to Alaska, to the Klondike, or tha Yukon country, and that is the necessity lor providing &n adequate and proper food supply. Whether procured in the States, in the Dominion, ur at the supply stores here or further on, this must be his primary concern. Upon the manner in which the miner has observed or neglected this precaution more than upon any other one thing will his success or failure depend. These supplies must be healthful and should be concentrated, but the most careful attention in the ^election of ; foods that will keep unimpaired indefinitely under all the conditions which they will have to encounter is imperative. For instance, as bread raised with baking powder must be relied upon for the chief part of every meal, imagine the helplessness of a miner with a can of spoiled baking powder. Buy only the very best flour; it is the cheapest in the end. Experience has shown the .Royal Baking Powder to be the most reliable^ and the trading companies now uniformly supply this brand, as others will not keep in this climate. Be sure that |he bacon is sweet, sound and thorouglqg cured. These are the absolute necessities upon which all must place a chief reliance, and can tinder no circumstances be neglected. They may, of course, be supplemented by as many comforts or delicacies as the prospector may be able to pack or desire to pay for.—Alcuka Mining Journal. A hook of'receipts for all kinds ox cookery, which is specially valuable for use upon the trail or in the comp, is published by the Koyal Baking Powder Company, of Mew York. The receipts are thoroughly practical, and the methods are carefully explained, so that the inexperienced may, with its aid, readily prepare everything requisite for a good, wholesome meal, or even dainties if he has the necessary materials. The matter, is in compact though durable form, the whole book weighing but two ounces. Linder a special arrangement, this book will be sent free to miners or others who may desire it. We would recotnmend that every one going to the Klondike procure a copy. Address the .Royal Baking Powder Co., New York.

A PRETTY INCIDENT. The Kindness of n Spanish Lady to ■ Lone Soldier Boy. A recent traveler in Spain describes a touching scene witnessed at the depar* ture of a regiment for Cuba. Ail day long there had been heard the measured treajJ of soldiers marching through the street; all day long gayly bedecked boats had been passing to and from the vessel that was to take them to Havana. The twilight began to deepen when the correspondent saw a ‘Startling and pretty sight”—the impetuous action of a portly, good-looking and well-dressed lady, who noticed a young soldier walking dejectedly along down the pier in his traveling gray, with a knapsack strapped over his shoulders. All the rest of the men had friends, their novias, mothers, relatives, and made the usual gallant effort to look elated and full of hope. This lad had no one, and it might be divined that he was carrying a desolate heart over the seas. The handsome woman burst from her group of friends, took the boy’s hand, and said: “My son has already gone to Cuba. He is in the regiment of Andalusia, and sailed two months ago. You may meet him, Pepe G.; take this kiss to him.”' She leaned and kissed his cheek.” An English boy would have shown awkwarness, but these graceful southerners are never at a loss for a pretty gesture and a prettier word. The boy blushed with pleasure, and still holding the lady's hand, said with quite natural gallantry, without smirk or silly smile: “And =*nay -I not *take one for myself as well, senora?” The Jady reddened, laughed a little nervously, and bent and kissed him again to the frantic applause of soldiers and civilians, while the boy walked on, braced and happy.—Blackwood’s Magazine.

He Had Flans l PThe superior court was in session and the little mountain town was crowded with people. Along about the middle of the day when the judge was worried with a tedious trial, Bill Williams, of the Lick Creek settlement, began galloping up and down the streets on hi* little red mule, firing off his pistol, whooping like a Sioux, and otherwise dispensing the energy which a liberal supply of corn liquor had inspired. “Mr. Bailiff,” commanded the judge; sternly, “go out and' arrest that man and bring him into court.” The bailiff went timidly out of the courtroom and the judge attempted to proceed with business. But Williams* racket outside did not cease. It grew worse' and the judge looked over the room for some one else to send out, and observed the bailiff sitting complacently on one of the back seats. ■p “Look here, Mr. Bailiff, why did yon not arrest that disorderly man? Are* you not an officer of the court?” “Y-y-es,” replied the bailiff, quaking with fear, “I wuz, but I*re done flung up.”—Atlanta Journal. Her lien tie Reminder. “Grace,” he began, “between you and “Bob,” she interrupted, “between yon and me there should be nothing.” And what could he do, in face of this, but move up to her end of the sofa?— Ainsiee's Magazine. Geniality-*v A quality often found in men whose whole mental and physical organisations are kept rigorous by diligence and temperance, and in simple minded' men who love fun and comfort without falling into rice or folly.—Judge.