Rensselaer Republican, Volume 14, Number 1, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 22 September 1881 — Page 4

DOOR-WAY DAVID QKAHAJf*ADKE. X , [Praldcnt Garfield *x seed mother was irtopplngwith her nice* at Hiram. Bt»e reclered frequent messages from Washington, a*d apenuoaoh of tbe time at the front door of P'e »oaw anxiously waiting for the meopjgerwtw brought her the dispatches Hhe waa much agitated by fears of the woist, yet [eripff tenaciously to hope.—Cleveland die* * j Mother, .mother. In the doorway, Waltl UKhrai ting lor a word, Watehiak. watching for a message. trusting in the leM, f woaldodt wea'th oflove coaid nerve yon. Would a people’s prayers could serve you, t And good cheer afford. , Jollier, mother, in the doorway, Once yon nursed a baby boy, ' feOMbtbU little feet to toddle, Taught hU helpless hands to toy With his playthings, prattling,smiling, Your young motherhood beguiling With hisiufant Joy. Mother, mother, in the doorway 1 Wm who showed him virtue's path, mfttted him psat childhood's peril Is, 1 rough the ways removed trorn wrath, $1 s^^rsisjE I *' In manhood’s aftermath. Awier, mother, in the doorway, Watching in the noontide glow, On your white leeks seem to linger. Kisses set there long ago, -A nd with lator kisses blending. As the Natipn's ruler, bending, Oreeta the mother's brow. Mother, mother, Id the doorway, Htrikenjwlth a mother's grief. You are booking wltere the lonely— We are told—shall And relief; . Ixsaking far beyond»the valley, Toward the field where soldiers roily From the battle brief. - Mother, mother, in the doorway, Courage! in this hour of woy, Fogiba nation’s soul is with hltb, • Though the waters ebb or flow; With his Is written, , And our hearts wltn yours are smitten, Aadour heads are lew. Mhtber, mother. In the doorway, Great his work and bravely done, On the country’s roll of honor Proud the place he nobly won; We, his name who dearly cherish, Would aot let the soldier perish >- t>» Could man save your son. WASHijroTo.v, Aug.a>d>«i.

An Incident.

Mrs. Annie A, Preston. "Cara stop twenty minuths 1 for refreshments,” called out Conductor Ri*jhard*ou at Allen’s Junction. Then, the train came to a dead halt, he Jumped down, and ran along the platform to where the engine stood, and said to the engineer: “Frank, 5 J want you to come back with me to the first passenger coach, .and see a little girl that I hardly know what to makcF of.” ■ The engineer wiped his hands, donned bi 3 coat, b hanged, his litMe black, greasy cap for pis Soft, felt hat—taking these up” articles from the tender-box, where an engineer always lias something stowed away for an emergi ncy—and went back to the coach as requested. He entered the .coach, and made his way to the seat where the kind-hearted conductor sat talking to a bright-look-ing little girl about ? yeais old, eddiy dressed in a woman's shawl and bouUefcc Several of the passengers were grouped around the sea*, evidently much interested in the child, who wore a sad, prematurely old countenance, but seemed to be neither timid nor confused. . . “Here Is the engineer,” said the conductor, kindly, as Frank appealed. She heldjip her hand to him. with a wiuuiug smile breaking over herpiuched jitlle face and said: “My papa was an engineer before he became sick and went to live on a farm in Montana. He is dead, and my mamma is dead. She dieel first before Susie and Willie. My papa used to tell me after he should be dead there would bo no.one to take care of me, and then I , must go on the cars and go to his old home in Vermont, and he said if the conductor wouldn't let me ride because . I hadn't any ticket,T mu.-t ask sos the engineer, and teU'him I was J tines Kendrick’s little girl, and that be used to run on the M and G - Road.” •

The pleading blue eyes were'no.v full id tears, hut -he did not cry / ilfter the thamicr oT children in general. Engineer Frank now quickly stooped and kissed her very tenderly,*nd then, as he brushed the tears awav from his own eyes,said: '“Welf, my dear, you are little Bessie Keudrick? It is m3’ opinion a merciful Providence guided vou oh board this tralu.” “Then turning to the croup of passengers, he went on: “Lknew Jim Kendrick, the father of *•'is little girl, well. He Was a mau out of ten thousand. When 1 tint dame to Indiana—before I got I wa- ek-k a great part of tiie time so that I could not work, and I got homesick and discouraged—could not keep my board bill paid up, not to mention >my doctor’s b*ll and didn’t much care whether I lived or not.” ‘‘One day when th 4 pay car came along, and the men were getting their monthly wages, there wasn’t a cent coming to me, for I hadu’t been free from thd.ague, nor worked an hour for the last month. “I felt so blue that I sat down on a pile of raihoad ties and leaned my elbows on my kuees, with my head on my hands, and cried like a great boy out of sheer homesickness and discouragement. ' •‘Pretty soon one of the railroad men came along and said in a voice tl at sounded like sweet music in mv ears, for I hadn’t found symuathy out there, although the b >ys were all good to mein-tbeir way: ‘You have been having a rough time of it,and j-ou murt let me help you aut.’ ‘•1 looked up and there stood Jim Kendrick, with his month’s pay in bis hand. He took out from the roll of bills a S2O note and handed it to me. ‘‘l knew he had a sicklv wife and two or three children, and‘that he had a hard time of, it himself, to pull through from month to mouth, so I said, half ashamed of the tears that were streaming down my face: ‘lndeed I cannot take the money. You need every cent ot it yourself.’ “•Mudeed, you will take it. man,’ said Jim, *\ou will be all right in a few da>s, and then you can pav it back. Now come home with me' to supper and see the babies: it will do you good.’ “I took the baiik note ’ : 'e .. e j the invitation, and after t to his house frequently uutil he moved away, aud Igtadu .<ly lost sight of him 1 had returned tii» loan, but it was impossible to rep: y 1h > good that little act ot kindness did me, and I rather guess Jun Kendrick'slittle girl here WiUt f ° T auylLiu « if 1 ““ Then tpruing agiin to t’*e child, whose bine eyes were wide euoug h no w, the engineer said to her: ?Tll t ike you home with me, Bcnde d« r , when we get up to Wuvne. My wife will hx you up, and we will write and find ous whether those Vermont relations really want you or not. If they do, Mary or I shall go on with y? u - M they don’t care much about having you, yon sball stay with usand be our Jittle girl, for we have none of our own. Vou look very much like your father, God bless his memory.” Just then the train whistled. “All aboard, was shouted, engineer Frank vanished out of the car door and went forward to his engines wiping his eves with his coat sleeve, while the conductor and sympathetic passengers could not repress the tears this touching little episode evoked during the twenty unnutes’ stop at Allen's Junction.

President Garfield and the Colt. «4Japrain Henry, Marshal of flie District of Columbia, tells the following story of the President When he was nine years old: ’V “His mother'did notown a horse, and he thought there was nothing In the tforid quite ao nice as riding on

horseback. His uncle, Mr. Boynton, who owned the farm next to his mother’s, had a wild, four-year-old colt, wnich bad never been ,handled At all. He ran loose in a pasture near his mother’s house. The boy, by gradual degrees, got the animal so he would come to tho fence to be rubbed and potted. He continued to pet him for many days, and finally used to climb the fence and rub his Back. At length he put his bare foot over the top of the fence and Upon the colt’s back. The colt crouched somewhat, and did not seem to relish the proceeding, but still did not run away. The colt bad at first been disposed to bite every time he was touched,and the boy now thought he had so far tamed the colt that the next day hq would attempt to ride. By the most gradual stages the act of mounting was accomplished. The boy was at his post on the fence In good time, and the colt came forward for bis daily dote of petting. The attempt was made by the youth to get On culiarly good terms with his brute companiqn. He rubbed and patted and scratched him. Finally the bare foot was placed upon the back, and the leg slipped gradually down upon the opposite side of the animal, ana in an instant he was on th* spot where saddle baJ never been. The oolt was as wild as the Ukrane steed to whose back Mazeppa wasAied. “He looked as though the speed'of thought Weraln Ilia limbs: but he was wtldi Wild a* the wild deer/and untaught; with spur and bridle undented.”

“The boy placed his hands firmly in the mane of the colt, while the latter at the first crouched low down and sidled away, until, finding that the the load was firmly fixed Upon HUT back, he began a series of most vigorous rearings and kickings. Findng that this was not likely to accomplish the desired end, the colt started as fait as he cjould run across the field in the direction of a Jarge oak tree with wide spreading branches which came down close to the ground. The boy made up his mind that be was destined to be swept off by the oak, and he determin *d to escape such a fate. He accordingly let go of the mane and gradually slipped back and dowp over the rymp sis the colt as he ran. Just as he struck the ground the colt gave a most vigorous kick with both feet. The boy felt the breeze that the swift blow created sweep his face, but he was unharmed. He didn’t spend and more time courtipg the colt, however.”

Uncle Tim’s Talent.

Uncle Tim held up his saw, and squinted along the teeth to See Whether It was “loosing its set.” He failed to decide, in liis surprise at finding that he was taking aim at the minister, who stepped in range just at that moment on the street side of the fence. His eyes came into gear again as he laid his saw on the wood-pile and stepped up to the fence, saying: “Weil, it is queer. It’s only a minute ago J was thin kin’ about j’ou. I was tbinkiu’ what ft good sermou you gave ns lust Sunday morniu\ au’ Inw I would tell you so the first time I Uncle Tim was the wood-sawer and day’A-work factotum for the viliiage. Unlearned as he was, the minister always missed him if he was absent from church —he was such a helpful listener. And to Uncle Tim’s compliment he replied, “You told file that you thought It was at the time in the way you iistaued to it; though, -for that matter, you always seem to bo interested. I don’t suppose you know what a Qomfort such a hearer is to a minister. If all the congregation was like you, I think it would turn my poor sermons into good ones.” “Thank you,” said Uncle Tim. “Idon’t always get the hang of everything that’s said, biit I should get Jess if I didn’t give attention. An’ I always say to mysel’, ‘The minister, he works hard to write his sermons, au’ if folks don’t listen to ’eru ? it’s pretty discouraging.’ Au’ I says, •YouCau’tput much iu the contribution box, Tim, an’ you Can’t talk in praycr-meetin,’ but you can Oonnt oUfe In listenin’; you cau try to ’prediate what' other folks do."’ “The taleut for appreciating is an excellent one to have,” remarked the minister. “ Well as I look at it. it’s one one as isn’t denied to any body,” said Uncle Tim. “An’ if it’s the only one I’ve got. I’ll tty not to tfcrap it fn a napkin. Wheu Dt ftcon Mason aloes me good by one of his exfierience talks iu prayer-meetin’ I think its no more than right that he should know it. P'raps he has times of thinkiu’ that he can’t say anything woith while, and it stau’s to reason ' hat he cau talk better if he knows he’s doing somebody some good. An’ when Widder Hatch is makiu’ such .1 gritty fight Ad keep her children together, an' give ’em an education, I think mebbe it makes it a little ea-ier ror herto stand up to it if a neighbor drops a 'void of ’preciatiou once lit a while.” The minister said nothing, but there was a look of “preciatiou” on his face, and Uncle Tim continued: “The other day I see the young school-ma’am was lookin’ worn out and sober-like. I 'magined them big boys from the Holier was worryiu’ the life out of her. An’ I did’nt know how I could help -tnat. But at noou I just went down to the school house a purpose to tell her how "ice your grau’tou wasgettin’ along wiv.i his ’rilhmetic. An’ she said it vr?"* better than half a dozen ‘caps of tva’too, for cheerin’ her up—she did. ’An when I see Sanford’s boy take a little Irish*girl's part that othpr l>oys were tormentin’, an’ they jeerin’ him,. I went up to him an’ 1 says, ‘Uncle Tim's nothin’ but a wood-sawer, but he knows enough to see that you’ve got the stuff of a gentleman in you.’ You see old folks don’t notice the young enough. An’ there,B Jim Brady, adrinkin’, card-playin’.shootin’-match creatur’, who goes arouud ft good deal like a dog without any owner:—.He knows folks despise him. But Jim’s right handy with tools, and when I take my siw to him to have it liiled, an’ tell him he does that job better’u aDy other man I know, I think it helps him to have a little more respect •for himself, I do. You see its dreadfully easy to look at .faults- at faults iu children, an’ faults in. hired folks, an’ faults in tavern-keepers, an’ faults in prayer-meetiu’s. But, as I look at it, we’d do a good deal better to think more about the good things in ’em.

Snakes That Got Into the Papers.

A rattlesnake with thirteen rattles was recently killed by a voting woman in Sylvania, Ga. Jacob Horn, a farmer,of No. 12 Station on the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad, did not die from the bite of the snake, but afrom the whisky administered afterward In quart doses. A young spotted adder was killed in the basement kitchen cf a lady living in Clinton, N. 8. She was about to pick it up, supposing it waa a strap with which her little boy had been playing. The Jackson Herald says that while T. F. Daniels was cleaning a fish on the bank of a creek, a water moccasin jumped from the stream, snatched the fish from hts hand, and made off with Jefferson Davis, ’of Sanderson, Ga., came across a rattlesnake while going through his field. He cut it in two.and was poking the upper part with a Htick when it turned and fatally bit him on the hand. ' While making repairs on a house near BevUport, Texas, the workmen removed an old cypress block, the heart of which had decayed. In the cavity were found enough young rattlesnakes to fill a bucket. Mrs. Myers, of Cash Valley, Md., was attacked by an immense black snake while going to her dairy over a spring,and held it fast to her clothing until she reached her kitchen door, where her husband killed it. The largest snake of Its species ever killed in Garret County, Md., was re-

feet in length and six inches in diameter, and had sixteen rattles. James Coddington, of Thom peon County, N. Y., had no fear of snakes, find wnen be had been bitten by a very large pilot he simply shook it off, killed it, and sucked the poison from the wound. He then went home and applied poultices of black and white ash, ana is now oat of danger. Mrs. Henry Hoe, living in Coff e County Ga., was bitten on the foot bv a rattlesnake. ’Shifhurried home ai.d bathed the foot in salt and water. That stopped both the swelling and the pain. Lister in the day reaction caused the foot to swell again, and the pain was so intense that the woman became insensible. But, despite all these alarming symptoms, she recovered.

Our Western Empire.

ttutmu City Times. Eighty thousand Swedes will come to. the United States this year. Nearly all df.thfeee will settle on the line of the Northern Pacific railaoad: Do our people know what this means? Of all the races of Europe the Scandavian is the most vigorous, l and it is, by its law of habits.an Industrious, frugal and Intellectual race. Next,the whole line of that road is susceptible of settlements The valley of tne Bed Rlyfer of the North is about 225 by 300 miles In extent, of the finest wheat lands on the continent, besides being better fitted for rye, oats, barley, flax/ and like dfops Ibafi any In the worldL-The climate is just suited to the Norseman, and here alone he finds room for a new Scandinavian empire. And these people are frem the home of civilization ana it i/i to-day the blood of the sea kings that donates the Commerce of the globe. Then again,the family ahd Bible are the basis of the social life of these people. They are hoDest, constant iu tneir convictions, strong, and wedded to home. In fifty years more they will have a series of commonwealths there that will serve as a balance wheel to the more emotional regions of the south, and it would be only logical If they were to furnish a century hence tne armies to quell another secession rebellion. This region has had its difficulties Jay Cooke saw its capabilities and Sdtight to use them, but he was a monopolist and a public enemy, and was put aside by the bowling mob. But his labor was not lost, ana to-day his road has reached the '.confines of a country larger than the whole north of Europe, and of a fertility equal to any part of the union. The people who go there go to till the soil, to raise their families, to work and grow in comforts afid property. Jay Cooke is already vindicated. 1 .

Jim’s Heart Found.

In the paint shop of the Detroit house of correction, sayrf the Free Press, is a man whom we will Call Jim, and who is a territorial prisoner on a life sentence. Up to last spring he was regarded as a desperate! dangerous man, ready, for rebellion at any hoiir. He planed a general outbreak, and was “givfen away” by one of the conspirators. He planned a general mutiny or rebellion,and was again betrayed. He then kept his own counsel and while never refusing to obey orders, he obeyed them like a man who only needed backing to make him refuse. One day recently a party of strangers came to visit the Institution. One was an old gentleman, the others ladies, and two of the ladies had small children, The gtfide took one of the children on his aim and the other walked until the party began climbiug stairs. Jim was working near by, sulky and morose as ever, when the guide said to him: “Jim won’t you help this little girl up stairs?” The convict;hesitated, a scowl on his lace, and the little girl .held out her hands to him and said: “If you will I guess .I’ll kiss you.” His scowl vanquished in an instant, and he lifted the child as "tenderly as a father. Halfway up the stairs she kissed him. At thb head of the Stairs she'said: "Now Jrou’ve got to kis3 me, too.’ -1 He blushed ike a woman, looked ldto her intioCent face and then kissed her Cheek, and befoie he reached the foot ot the stairs again, be had tears in bis eyes. Ever since that day he has been a changed man, and no one in that place gives lees trouble. Maybe iu his far away western home he has a Katie of his own. No one knows, for he never reveals liis inner life, but the change so quickly wrought by a child proves Jhat he has a heart.

A Bird Story.

Snraereet (Ky.) special, A sight so strange that it tvoiild pay straugers to come miles to see, occurs every night, five miles south of tnis place, ou the Cedar bluffs of the Cumberland river. Every evening- jdst about sundown the sky is darkened as far as the eye can eee by great flocks of birds coming to roost in these cedars. Your correspondent, accompanied by a nalive aud a lantern, spent a couple of hours last night among the cedars watching this wonderful congregation of birds of every tongue, plumage, and of almost every country this side of the tropics. Startled by -our approach, great clouds of the chattering tribe would rise from their perches in the cedars and fly off’ with a noise like deep and distant thunder. We had to scream at the°top of our voice to hear one another spesk. Large limbs ol the trees were broken off, caused by the accumulated weight of bird.-. Hundreds blinded by our lanterns would fly into our faces. We could pick thousands of them from tbe branches of tbe trees. But what seemed so strange about this bird convention was the seeming peace and harmony that existed between tbe birds. The hawk and dove roosted in peace on the same branch, while hundreds of robins aud sparrows circled in perfect safety around the perch of great owls. In the early morning when these songsters of the gToves left their perches ia tbe cedars for the fields of the open country it was a most beautiful .gorgeous sight to behold. With the blue of the jay, the crimson and red of fence wren and redbird, the yellow and gray of the yellow and sparrow birds seemed like some grand and splended panorama of the floral kingdom endowed with the power of music, moving through the air in a procession composed of all the colors of the rainbow. Hundreds of people come every nieht to see the etrauge wonder. A great many poor people gain almost their entire suDport by catching and selling these birds.

A Rare Proof of Devotion.

tjan Francisco Chronicle. About a month ago F. A. Learetc, of Oakland, an engineer in the employ of the Central Pacific Railroad Company, and stationed ia Arizoua, was seriously scalded by the overturning of his engine, and one of his legs was so badly injured that the flesh fell away. The attending physicians toll huh that if bis friends would each contribute a small piece of flesh they could restore it to its old usefulness.' The statement was widely circulated, and twentyeight of his fellow-workman volunteered and bravely bared their limbs to the surgeon's kuife. The transplantation of flesh was successfully made, and to-day the leg looks almost as natural as the uninjured member. The heroic act of the men. was duly rewarded., The 'Railroad Company, hearing of the case, leave of absence was given aud two months’ extra pay was ordered paid to each of the men. Mr. Learett is now at his home, No. 893 Peralta street, and is rapidlv recovering. A physician ought to be careful lest he tell too muoh of the truth. Wheu a lady living in Chelseasent to London for a doctor she apologized for asking him to come such a distance. “ Don’t speak of it ” answered the M. D. *‘l happen to have another patient in the neighborhood, and thus kil] two birds wlui oqft atone.”

MOTHERS BOYS. Yes I know there are stains on my carpet, The traces of small muddy tbuii; And I see your tapestry glowing, Ail spotless with blossoms and fruit! And I know that my walls ars disfigured With prints of small fingers add bands; And that your own household most truly In immaculate purity stands. And I know that my parlor is littered With many old treasures and tors; While your own is in daintiest order. Unharmed by the presence ol boys! And I know that my room It invaded Quite boldly all hoars of the day; While you alt In yours umnoleeted And dream the soft quiet away 1 tern, 1 know there are four little bed sides Where I must Stand watchful each night; While you go out In your carriage. • And flash in your dresses so bright. How, I think I’m a neat little woman; I like my bonse orderly, too; And I’m tond of all dainty belongings; , Yet would not change places with yon. Hot keep your Mr home With Its order. Its freedom from bother and noise; And keep your own fanclfnl leisure, Hut give me my four splendid boys I —[Lancaster Examiner.

BACHELOR JACK.

“Cold, wretchedly cold 1 And what is a fellow to do with himseil?” Bachelor Jack. If be had only a wife and half a dozen responsibilities the want of occupation would be the least of his anxieties. If Jack bad been a man of business there would have been some help for his ennui. He thought he was. But what claim has he to the name cf a business man who isasileut partner in two or thres houses and lets others do the active wotk? What occupation is there in receiving in dividends more money than you can spend! Jack had not even the occupation of making “both ends meet.” And ho was in no small danger of lapsing into bad habits for the mere waut of employment. He had even made his will. He had not a hobby. Several had he tried and ridden them to death; and just now, at the beginning of a snow-storm, on a winter morning, he had the whole day before him. He was too much a bachelor to be willing to get his feet damp. His room affected the air and ap pearance of the den of a literary bachelor with some young American Deculiarities. It was furnished with a comfortable carpet, chairs, lounges and fire. There was a suspicion ot Lynchburg tobacco in the* atmosphere, and piles or books and papers alternated with meerschaum, brier-wood, Pocahontas, and pipes of curious form, both clay and porcelain. Walking sticks of various styles and other bachelor trifles occupied the corners. Jack whistled, hummed and yawned, picked up a book end tossed it away from him. There was nothing in the morning papefs. Tffere Vfras nothing in his noddle, eicept au indiflnite Idea that he ought to do something. If he had any kind of an "object”, if he had only liked to read with system, as a certain old lady once said, “about worms, beetles, and such, nasty things,” he might have found indoor occupation. He tried a puff ft it had already smoked enough. He droned a bar on his flute, laid the instrument down and yawned fearfully. Now it began to snow, uqdeniably. Jack lounged to the window and watched the flakes. . Drifting along with the storm was a ragged little urchin. The whole of his surroundings were forlorn enough; buthis miserable toes were the worst, oropping out into the snow. He stopped before the comfortable mansion, surveyed it eagerly from eaves to door-stone, and wondered why such places should be the lot of the few, while the many, like himself, were huddled in cellars and garret*. His thoughts soon changed to business. For he, unlike Jack, had something to do. In the great battle of life,, hard work falls to the rank and (lie. He rang the bell. “What is it?” asked Jack, opening the doori

a boy With marble dust,” said the servant, who had already closed tbe door in the applicant’s face. “Marble dust!” said Jack, “what’s marble dust? Let the lLtle dustman in.” The servant, somewhat provoked that such trash should find its way into a gentleman’s room, showed the lad in aud went about her business. She had something to do more than wait on little vagrants. The young dustman bad evidently never been in such a place before. He looked with wondering eyes around the room, much attracted by the show of tobacco-pipes, but more by bis host’s comfortably-dressed feet. The stump of a cigar was within possibilities. Such boots, never! “What’s marble dust,” Jack asked. “The women cleans the doorsteps with it,” the boy answered. “They do, eh?” And Jack stared at the comfortless stranger till the child blushed through the smudge on his face. He did not quite blush, however »for such a manifestation is rare among me poor wretches who have to encounter the world bare-footed. “Would you like someof it?” the lad asked. “Well, not much,” said Jack, “as cleaning steps Is not quite in my line. What would you like?” “If you have the end of a cigar, sir ” “A cigar; und Is it possible that you smoke?” “When the gentlemen gives me the cigars they have done with,*' said the boy. “Are my shoes too big for you?” he asked, with a look of piiy at the boy’s pleading toes. “Indeed, your boots would be small er than all-out-doors,” said the lad, with a twiukle of hope iu bis face; ‘and all-out-doois is the size I am wearing now.” Jack laughed. The little beggar was forthwith furnished with a pair, which to him were as good as new. Jack thought of adding an old pipe or two to the donation. But he felt just then too much rebuked for smoking himself; and while he half resolved to leave tobacco to the newsboys and beggar lads tbereafter.be would still not abet them in the nuisance. “Are my pantaloons too large for you?” Jack was five feet eight The boy was three feet two. “Mother could cut the legs off, or I could roll them up. Better to have too much trousers than none st all.” Again Jack laughed. The perishing lad was furnished *ith an ample outfit, ample in every sense. “liow,?’ said Jack, “I must go with you, snow or not, and see the mother of such a boy.” “She’s proud of me you better believe,” said youDg hopeful. And Bachelor Jack, who an hour or two before had felt like a prisoner, bound by a slight snow, fall, set out In search of a new sensation. He heard feoup-housfs mentioned in his walk, and that sent his thoughts in auotber direction.- He remembered that he had responded to an application for a donation annually for several years in support of those useful Institutions, and thought he would look a little after his investments. The marble dust boy was his guide, aocoutered In his roomy boots, his rolled up trousers and a coat, which for length would have satisfied a clerical tailor. But the buttons were rather too stunning. Bachelor’s buttons are apt to be. Jack had not felt so light-headed and merry in a month as while be followed the little caricature of himself in hat and all to the soup-honse. He had seen proverty and misery, to be sure, but he had done not a little toward the aleviation of distress. The boy was fllmliwd wife hit dwlypwaw. Jwl

remained to look about him and ask for information. Ho opened his inquiries with the question; “Would $lO be acceptable?” The attending iadies were heartily obliged in behalf of their clients. He was asked: “Would be taste the soup?” Of course he would. He was furnished with a bowl of the savory compound and * pewter spoon to eat with. . . „ •‘Upon my word, this is not so bad,” be said. “I should hope not,” archly said the young lady who had acted as hostess. “We make it ourselves, and our patrons are very particular.” Jack, having dallied over his soup as long as he could, and said all manner of pleasant things ($lO worth), took his leave at last with a grace and politeness which a reduced millionaire coule not have exceeded. Even such men do come where soup Is doled out in charity. It is a woeful, changeful world I Jack had no right to be idle in it,'as his conscience began to admonish. But who was there to set him to work I

At the dinner-table he bad amused the party (hfa home was a boardinghouse) with tfee naratlve of his morning’s walk. And the land-lady’s , daughter, internally resolving to turn soup-almoner herself, had rallied him ; upon the glowing accotiut which he ! gave of the soup-nouse iadies. As he smoked, bis thoughts took shape, and he said to himself: “Upon my faith, that lesser one was beautiful) aud they may laugh as they please.” Jack would have sailed out to the soup-house again that very afternoon, but be happened to remember that soup-houses which serve the poor, like banks which rccommodat© tb# rich, are closed in the afternoon. Bachelor Jack was aetir betimes the next dav, like a man with an object in life. Aftef his morning cigar, he shaved and went down to Third street like a man of business. He went to the library like a man of letters; he walked to the post-office like a man of correspondence; he stood on the steps of the Continental like a man of fashion; he did all sorts of things to make himself believe he was somebody. The truth was, he was only a moth, aud the light which attracted him was In the soup-bouse. 80, after flights and counter flights in devious circles, he struck straight for the gratis hotel, pretending it to lay in the shortest route to his home.

The house was there, but the light was out. The soup smelt as savory as ever, but the place did not look so tempting. There were two ladies there, as on the day before; but the number was the only point of resemblance. Jack looked around tht dpartmcnt, aud the iadies looked inquiringly at him. He was in for it; but he only presented $5 to-day. “Would he taste the boud?” Of course he would dot. He did' yesterday, but circumstances alter cases. You can take from Hebe wnat you decline from Hebe’s grandmother. Jack talked enough to introduce a casual inquiry, not too pointed, for “the lady who was here yesterday. “Did he mean Mrs. Jones or Miss Smith?” ‘ Miss Smith,” said Jack. He knew the name of neither, and answered Miss for his hopes’ sake. They will not be here, In their regular turns, for a week. But either may drop in to-day. Shall I give any message to Miss Smith?” Message, indeed 1 The absurdity of the situation made Jack almost laugh outright. “Oh, no,” he said; “I will calll at her house.” '

Ob, man’what a lie you were acting! Yes and speaking, tool For you did not kuow what Jindividual in jthe legion of of John Smiths she was the daughter. You did not know whether it was Miss Smith or Miss Jones who had entertained you. v Jack walked out half laughing and half vexed, aud home to dinner. He did not say soup house to-day at the table. And he pretended not to hear the Innuendoes in which the landlady’s daughter persisted. But he resolved within himself: “I will And her out if it takes me all winter.” Where there is a will there Is a way. He made the marble-dust boy his agent and detective. The bright little rogue, who found Bachelor Jack’s acquaintance the most profitable “connection” he had ever made in his life, now served his patron faithfully. We cannot describe step by step the approaches to the catastrophe. It came in the early summer, when Charitable Committees no longer In season, and the ladies had leisure to receive callers. A furniture vap appeared one morning before Jack’s l&te residence, and that same pshafp boy acted as his lieutenUantj while Jack superintended the transfer of his movables. They were destined to fill one room, bi« library, in tl house which he had taken in L —- Btreet, which ope room he intended to call a memorial apartment, “Bachelor’s Hall.” But it was not Miss Smith, and it was Mrs. Jones, a charming widow, who bad taken Jack’s heart. Bachelor no more, he is all the better for the change. Once the time hung heavy on his hands; now, the days are not long enough. He has destroyed his old -“last will and testament,” and has not found time, or loves life too well, to write another.

The landlady’s daughter heaved “a long, long sigh” as she looked into the dismantled room on the day of Jack’s departure. Whether it was a sigh of “youth,” depends ypon your idea of that state; whether it was a sigh of love, is an open question. Her reverie was broken by the marble-dust boy, who dashed in, and gathering a heap of tobbacco pipes which Jack had been ashamed to take away, stowed them in various places on his person. “Dirty little wretch 1” thought the landlady's daughter. But Jack has never yet ceased to bless the snow-storm which brought Cupid to his door in the shape of a little street boy almost as naked as his mythological prototype.

The Nation’s Capital.

Cor., Clevelaud Leader. If there is a city in the Union that has suffered than another over the attempt upon the .President’s life, that city is Washington. Invariably an administration community, probably because its ideas are colored, and principally formulated by the 14,000 clerks apd office-holders, who are, of course, allied by the closest bonds of political sfiliation with the dominant party, it gives thecbief magistrate its unbounded admiration and untiring devotion. The views of the President are the views of the community; his acts have no question as to justice and right: and to recoin a phrase, “Vox Presidentis vox Dei.” In brief, half the life of the average Washingtonian is spent in worship of the occupant of the White House. 80 you can readily comprehend the painful experience which Washington has passed through in the past seven weeks. The flast shock all but paralyzed the community. To have its idol struck down before its very eyes stupefied the faculties of the people. The very audacity ol the attack saved the assassin from a quick taking off, and this city from what would probably have been a terrible exhibition of mob rule. I say “terrible,” for in such a case I think the most law-abiding citizen would have felt justified in taking a hand in the proceedings, and the opposition would have been feeble indeed. Before the public mind osuld ftilly comprehend the calamity, however, the assassin was safe in the hands of the officers of the law, and public grief swallowed up public resentment. Since the second day of July there has bsen a constant strain of anxiety. Public business and private interests have given way to consideration for the President’s condition. The city has been full of peonlfl all aummag Who WOOld ftOt ftUOW

themselves their usual recreation so long as the President was in danger; large excursions and little pleasure parties were quickly and cheerfully relinquished upon any intelligence that a change for tne worse had taken place, and Washington has almost modi flee its daily life in its respectffor Hie President’s condition. So tne strain of those frequent relapees,of quick changes from hope to lear, from sorrow to joy, are beginning to be apparent in Washington life; and it is not surprising that a sort of mental and physical lassitude has crept into social and official life, that public business moves more slowly, that, in short, the whole of this great capital is tired, Oh, so tired!

Turned White from Terror.

Colorado Springs OaseUe. f Lone Star ranch is becoming famous as productive of some very remarkable sheep. It was on the Lone Star ranch that the wonderful three-ply sheep was born. We refer, of course, to the sheep with three eyes, three ears and three tails, which was fully described in the Gazette some Weeks ago. We have received advices from our speciel correspondent, Mr. W. W. Cook, whom we have engaged as a specialist to keep a scientific eye on the peculiar happenings at the ranch. In the course of uis letter on the recent phenomenon, Mr. Cook says: “As most of your readers probably know black wool brings from five k> ten cents a pound less than the corresponding grade of white wool. In order to secure the separation of the inferior product, as oU t shearing operations progressed, we placed the black sheep in, a pen by themselves. There Were thus on last Tuesday night sixty-thtee black sheep and some lambs alone in one of the corrals. During the night a Coyote entered and killed a ewe and two lambs, and we were greatly surprised to find in the morning that the wool on the remaing sixty-tWo sheep had turned perfectly white from terror. Happily the increase in the value of wool more than balanced the loss of the sheep that Were killed. The bleaching effects of fear on the human hair is well known, but I HeVer beard any previous instance of its action on animals. 1 merely state the facts as they occurred and leave to others the practicle application of them, which will, I doubt not, add thousands of dollars to the value of the annual wool product of this country.” The facts given so succinctly by our correspondent are deserving of special notice, and will, no doubt, attract much attention upon the part of scientists.

Kate Chase Sprague.

Atlantic City Letter. Did you ever look upon a beautiful face which told you almost as plainly as words that mental anguish had but added to its beauty? I contemplated Such a contenance iu the parlors of the Shelburne to-night. Its owner was a lady rather inclined to be tall, but with a'symmetrical form which looked all the more attractive for the extremely plain costume, black m color, and almost severe in its lack of trimming or other adornment. Her blonde hair, dressed in, the prevailing seaside fashion—an English frizze—covered the forehead to within! an inch or so of the dark blue eyes, and two flushed Cheeks, a mouth full o‘s pearly teeth, lips like a ripe cherry, and a short, round chin, completed the picture. But there was something in the face apart from its natural gifts which was calculated at once to flfet the attention of the observer. It was an expression of indescribable melancholy and pain, as if the iron had ente-ed the soul of the owner aud left there, .not bate or vindicativeness, but sorrow and anguidb-'-a look so plaintive, so appealing, that ohe might match it to melt the hardest tears. “Who is she?” I heard the question asked twenty times inside of an hour, and each time the answer was returned, “Kate Chase Sprague.” The former mistress of Canoncbet has been the guest of the Shelburne since Tuesday, and proposes to remain until the Cflose of the season. A maid and, two nurses who have entire charge of her three children, all girls, the oldest being twelve and the youngest not yet three v comprise her retinue. She moves about in a dreamy sort of a way* seldom mingling with other guests or engaging with them in conversation. Efeu when in the society of intimate frietids,‘several of whom are at the same hotel, she sedulously avoids all references to her domestic difficulties. I asked her to-night if the sale of the Sprague estate, referred to in the morning dispatches from Providence, jeopardized any of her interests, and her mouth was open for a reply when Judge Tyner put in -an inopportune appearance with a remark on the mosquitoes, a popular subject, which instantly changed the drift of conversation.

Fifty Men Let a Child Drown.

London Fall Mall Gazette. On Monday afternoon fifty stronglybuilt and well-dressed Englishmen stood round the basin In Kensington Gardens and deliberately watched a little girl of 4 years of age drown in two feet of water. It would be a comfort if we could persuade ourselves that this chance sample of the nation all happened to be so exceptionally thick-skulled that they did not know what to do in the emergency, but a review of the whole circumstances admits of no other conclusion than (hit they did mot care to wet their boots, Arn old man who had brought another child out ten minutes before, entreated them to repeat bis action, as he was himself too feeble at that moment, but none of the selfish cowaids would move. Our hero asked his dog to do something, and the four-footed brute set the best example he could to the bipeds, who stared in astonishment at his prowess. The dog failing, bis proprietor tried the effects of a pole, but the pole being too short, the philanthropy and invention of the assembled company were exhausted,"and the poor child was left to perish. If any one had said beforehand that of fifty Englishmen, taken anywhere at random, twenty-five of them, singly or hand in hand, would not have, dashed even into deep water in a moment, and on a manly impulse he would have been told that he was slandering the race. Monday’s humiliating proceedings, however, reveal to us how we actually stand, explain it as we miy.

Eight Cream-Colored Bridesmaids.

London Truth. . The number of bridesmaids at fashionable weddings seems to be increasing. Eight cream-colored ladies attended Miss McGarrel-Hogg to the altar on the occasion of her changing her name to Saumarez. Ten of the same tint supported Miss Rose Nicholl during the ceremony necessary to her to become Mrs. Kennard, and a like number (of a different hne) saw Miss Foljambe and Mr. Arthur LevesenGower through the operation. No one objects to these numbers, except it be the bride-groom, who has to give a present to each fair maid of the bevy. Marriage becomes more costly every year, even as regards the initial ceremony. Is it any wonder that men are unwilling to take the plunge? Last season a slight revulsion in favor of simplicity at weddings was apparent, the very sanguine thought it might lead to a permanent reform. AMs! no. A few sensible girls were married in travelling dress, without fuss or display; but common sense is ever a drug in the market, and until quiet, unostentatous weddings are made fashionable by prominent leaders of society, people will continue to spend on one morning sums sufficient to keep the newly married couple in housekeeping nqoney for a twelve-

WHOLESALE FARMING.

A Thirty Thousand Acre Wheat Held Shipping Three Trains a Day—How the Big Dalrymple Farm is BonFargo Cor. Chicago Intar-Oeean. I stoOd this morning at the center of the largest farm in the world; the largest piece cf territory ever cultivated under the direction of a single man. As far as the eye could reach, north, south, east or west, there was nothing visible but the bluest of blue sky; the reddest of red barns, the great awk-ward-looking threshers, with their m o ke-begrimed engines beside them, he whirring harvesters and miles after miles of wheat. We asked for Mr. Dalrymple, and he came down from some room above, a slender, quiet looking man, with a pen behind his ear, w horn you would judge to be a schoolmaster or clergyman at sight. Hm hands were soft and white —more accustomed to the book or pen than the plow—and his face, where it was not covered with beard, was not burned so much as mine. He met us

cordially, invited us to spend the day and dine, and suggested that he would have a team hitched up to drive us over the place. I noticed he always called it “the place.” In the meantime I asked him a few questions. The first one was to the yield this year. “It was a late spring,” said Dalrymple. “At the time when we were usually putting in a crop the place for miles around here was covered with water from the melted snow, and you oould have sailed a boat over a field where now there is wheat that will yield thirty bushels to the acre. I feared at one time that the crop would be a failure, but am very positive now that the average per acre will not be below twenty bushels.”

„ “Have you sold your wheat?” “Our plan is different irom the ordinary method. We are sending about three train loads a day to Duluth.” “How many bushels is that?” ' “About 30,000 bushels. We load a vessel at Duluth every two days and send it to Buffalo, where it is sold on its arrival at the market price.” “What is that?” “The price to-day,” said Mr. Dalrymple, consulting the telegram, “is $1.27 at Butfalo. Freights are about .twenty-seven cents, so it nets us about $1 a bushel. “What will your crop amount to?” “I am expecting about 600,000 bush*els. Besides that we have about 90,000 bushels of oats which we keep for our stock.” “Do you jkeep stock enough to eat up 90,000 bushels of oats?” Mr, Dalrymple smiled pleasantly aud remarked that 800 horses and mules ate up a good many oats. “How much does your crop cost you?” “It costs us about $6 an acre to produce a crop when we use our own stock and pay our men by the .month, but when we hire men and teams by the day it costs us about $8 an acre.” “What do you pay your men?” “We pay S3O a month for regular hands, and $2 per day for extra hands during haivest.” “What amount of machinery have you going to day?” “Two hundred- self-binding harvesters and thirty steam threshers. These two hundred harvesters cut an average of 2,800 acres a day, and the threshers turn out about 30,000 bushelsaday. As fast as it is threshed we bag the wheat, cart it over then to the empty the sacks, and send away the train loads daily.” “Where do you keep your men?” “If you had been here at 6 o'clock this morning you could have seen 800 men at breakfast. We keep quite a hotel, with iorty cooks.” Mr. Dalrymple explained at length how this enormous business is conducted. The 30.000 acres under cultivation are divided into five divisions of 6,000 acres each, under superintendents, who are responsible directly to Mr. Dalrymple, the commander-in-chief. Each of these regiments are divided into batalions; with a foreman or major, who has charge of 2,000 acres. Under him are three companies, each having a caDtain, and cultivating a section, which «s 640 acres of land. Each superintendent plants his crop and harvests it, reporting from time to time to Mr. Dalrymple, who directs and oversees the whole, but spends the greater part of his time at tne office, planning and calculating for the best results from the smallest outlay. The superintendents are responsible for the good order of their men, stock and machinery, and there is a decided rivalry between them as to which can produce the biggest crop. When the plowing commences in the Spring the men go out in gangs, each taking 040 acres, under the direction of a foreman, who rides along on horseback to see that the work Is done properly. Everything is done in military "style. It is a battery of plows, instead of artillery, and before starting they all draw up in line and thoroughly inspected by the foreman and machinist, to see that they are in good order. The Elows are all 'doubled, and are drawn y four horses, At the word of the captain they start, add go round a field of 640 acres, which is exactly four miles in distance.ten or twelve plows abreast. At the end of the furrow, eight miles, the plowshare left in the soil, the men mount their horses and ride to headquarters for dinner. After the horses are fed they’ remount return to the plows and go around the 640 acres two or three times more before supper-time. At the close of the day the plows,and harness are inspected again, and if any repairs are needed, the blacksmith, saddler or iarrier.make them during the night. The same routine is followed at seed ing time and duriug the The self-binding harvesters throw the bundles of ripe grain upon the ground where they are picked up and plsced in large shocks to await-the wagops which transport them to threshers, which are always placed as closely as possible to the cars. After threshing, the straw Is carried away and burned. It sounds very large, but it is nevertheless a fact, that the plows and harvesters reeularlarly make a trip of four miles long without stopping. A furrow eight miles in length is considered a very fair morning's work,but ten miles is nothing for an afternoon’s diversion. As near the center of the farm as is convenient a store-house is placed, in charge ofacommissary|and book-keep-er. Each day the superintendent of a division issues requisitions for supplies of seed, or food, or machinery, and these are served upon the storekeeper, who keeps a double-entry set of ledgers for each, aud at the end of a days threshing the crop returns are made to him, so that M. Dalrymple, at any time, by examining the. books, can ascertain the exnenscsof every division and the crop it has produced.

This year it is expected that the 30,000 acres will produce 600,000,bushels of grain. The cost of production averages $7 an acre, or $210,000. The wheat is sold at an average net price of $1 per bushel, therefore the profit of Mr. Dalrymple’s little garden in 1881, which if said to be a poor year, will be the disference between $210,000 and $600,000, or the trifle of of $390,000; more than 200 per cent, upon the entire investment. / There will be natural induiry in this connection as to whysteamis Dot used instead of horse power. I asked Mr. Dairymple. He said: “We nave experimented with steam, but have not found it practicable except in the way of stationary engines: and ftgftin oats are cheaper than fuel. Wood is very scarce. Coal costs us practically I nothing. We sow and reap our oats, between times, when the men and stogk would otherwise he Idle, The

cost of norses and mules is no greater than the price of machinery , the -wear and tear is lees, and during the winter time we send our men and horses to. the lumber regions v here they more than pay for themselves. a

JOCOSITIES.

Fe gased Into the Ms shot gun, Saying ligbtly, “Tta not loaded Then removed nia eye—bat not until 1 Tbe weapon bad exploded. Bbe gently seiaed tbe paraflln, , To stimulate the lire, And tbe tenor who bad loved her At the funeral led tbe choir. , Mias Jane, she was of fine pbisique, . in art she was a good critique. Her nose was Qriqne, Heir temper mique, But one of her eyes was quite oblique. ‘•My ma-ln-law at our last talk Kept getting maddor’n madder, \ ‘Till she busted a blood-ves-sl-al * And climbed tbs golden ladder." The watermelon In Ireland’s national emblem. It has the green above the red. The explosion of a can of baked beans in New* Jersey the other day shows where the Boston people get their energy. . 1 lowa headlines: “The Lurid Light* ning Leaps down from its Lofty Lair and Lays Low the LiviDg.” Fourteen Feel the Fierce Flashing of the Fatal Fluid.”

Lessons for young housekeepers: “How can you tell a young fowl from an old one?” “By the teeth.” By the teeth? But fowl rave no teeth!” “I know they havn’t, but I have.” There are people who don’t believe that editors earn their bread by the sweat of their brows, but if those peoSle could see us mopping the prespiraion off our desks with an old pair of linen Dan ts, after writing a poem on the “Warm Conclusion of the Bumble Bee,” they would change their minds. Four years ago a young man without a cent on his back, aud only one suit of olothes to his name, entered Denver and begged his supper. Last week he eloped with his employer’s wife and ten- thousand of his cash. Close application to coupled with pluck and industry wins every time. “Forward!” cried the eaptain. “For* ward there, Dennis McCarthy.” “Be aisy, CaDtain Soolivan.” said Dennis; “OI aiwlz was bashful from me youth, and shure, though Oi’m shpoiling to go into this foight, I would not be forward, don’t ye see. Oi think it’s your rear Oi’d be guarreding while yez go an,” Deacon Stiles—“l have a request to make of you, Brother Potts.” Brother Potto—“Happy to oblige you, if 1 can.” Deaoon Stiles—‘‘You kissed Mrs. 8. behind an elder bush at our last Sun-day-school picnic?” Brother Potts — “Yes.” Deacon Stiles—“ Well, don’t do it again, please, as it might breed a coolness between the two families. My mother-in-law objects.”

MOSAICS.

Who never walks save where he sees men’s tracks, makes no discoveries. Adversity is the trial of princ’ple. Without it a man hardly knows wheth-, er he is honest or not. It is one of the worst of errors to suppose that there is any other path of "lafety except that of duty. One of the greatest of all mental pleasures is to have our thoughts ofteE divined; ever entered into with sympathy. The pious man and the atheist al wavs talk of religion; the one of what he loves and the other of what he fears. Nothing more impairs authority than a too frequent or indescreet use of it. If tuunder it-.elf should be continued it would excite no more terror than the noise of a mill. True silence Is the rest of the mind, and is to the body nourishment and refreshment. -Ib is a great virtue: it covers folly, keeps secrets, avoids disputes, and prevents sin.—Penn. The last, best fruit, which come 3 late to perfection, even in the kindliest soul is tenderness toward the hard, forbearance toward the unforbearing, warmth of heart toward the misanthropic. He who endeaVors to escape from life’s druggery may also cease to compete for life’s prize. Even if by maneuver or trick he Beize some of them, they will become but empty bubbles tbat have lost their significance. If you are a wise man you will treat tbe world as the moon treats it. Show it only one side of yourself! seldom show yourself too much at a time, and let what you show be calm, cool and poliahed. But look at every side of the world. - Seek not to please the world, hut your own conscience. The man who has a feeling within him that he has done his duty upon every occasion is for happier tn*n he who hangs upon thesmiles of the great,or the still more fickle favors of the multitude. Lock is ever waiting for something to turn up. Labor,with keen eyes and strong will, will turn up something. Luck lies in bed, and wishes the postman would bring him the news of a legacy. Labor turns out at 6 o’clock, and with busy pen or ringing hammer lays the foundation of competence. Luck whines. Labor whistles. Luck relies on chance. Labor on character. —Uobden.

Half Human, Half Alligator.

Meridian (Mias.) Mercury. About fourteen miles from Live Oak, Fla., there lives a woman with a strange family. One day she was walking out and had occasion to cross a creek on a log, and while thus crossing a huge alligator attacked and pursued her for some distance frightening her very much. Subsequently she gave birth to twins, both males. They were perfect-children down to their waists, and there the human ended, and thev are complete alligators on downward, tail and all. They have short, webbed feet and legs at the lower portion of the abdomen like alligators. They crawl with their hands, dragging themselves about just as au alligator does. They make a squealing, inarticulate noise. The mother has bad a large trough or tank filled with v ater, in which she keeps them, and theyuve pretty nearly all the time in it. They feed and eat regularly, and seem to be doing well, and are seeminely happy. They are now about 14 or 15 years old. Comparatively few outside of the immediate neighborhood know of it. The mother has refused large oners of monev for their exhibition.

Why Woman Remain Young

This is the charming theory of woman’sage advanced by Samuel Coleridge: “Eve, it is well known, Was sixteen years of age when she wsk awakened at the side of her husband. BixteeD years old, say ancient vriters, and that so old that they must haye seen Eve s register written upon the lilies of Paradise. , Now, women, who have niue times out of ten more curious rabinical learning than the mean envy of our own sex will allow them; women, inheriting the privilege from their firet parent, believe that, after a @efUin time, they have a just right to let their first sixteen years go fornothing; and so they sink the preliminary sixteen with asmiie, counting with Mother Eve their seventeenth m their first real birthday. Andjhev are right. 'For it deducts from your “nX of five-and-forty all that *e cares to lose, giving her » with Eve, and putting her hack-p* full bloom nine-and-twenty. Andindeed It is impossible that any really oharrr ; ug woman should be a day older.* ~ ■ I*As threshing separates wheat fron* the chaff, so does aflUattoa J our virtue*