Rensselaer Republican, Volume 16, Number 5, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 11 October 1883 — Page 2

ON THK BRIDGE. It vu young Robin *ad Ms !<>▼• Stood on * Bridge at even-song; Night's countless lamps were lit abort; Below, the streamlet slid along. Across the rati she lightly leant. And gazed Into the qnlet stream, . 'Wherein she saw with deep content The bailed stars' reflected gleam; But never stars shone half as bright As Elsie's eyes that Summer night. Around her taper waist and arm— , Her gallant Robin's gently lay; In place and hour there lurked a charm That owned do kinship to the day, Familiar sounds upon the gale , Wdre softly wafted to the ear. And from the darkness of the vale The love-lorn mavis fluted clear; But sweeter than the song he sung The words that trembled on her tongue. The shadows deepen in the.dell; Weird bats athwart the water play; And on the fitful breezes swell The village Church bells far away. Through all the windings of the glade, The stately trees like phantoms stand, Whilst love was leading man and maid Far onward into fairyland; And neither had on earth a put, Save only in the other's heart! Anon, from yonder wooded ridge, * The cold moon climbs the bine expanse; She glorifies the rustic bridge, Her beams upon the brooklet dance; She softly winds about, the twain The radlanoe oflher liquid light, As though, for lovers, she would fain— Create a fairer day from night. Her silver signet— nothing loth— She sets noon their plighted troth! Journal

FOR HIS BROTHER'S SAKE.

The True History of a Tale of Self Sacrifice. ■ ■ . •. '. -Ao.m fi'4* BY COL. GEORGE W. SYMOXDS. ' “The Governor pardoned John Brisben, a penitentiary convict, to-day. He was sent tip from Bourbon for fifteen years for forgery, and had ten years yet to serve. Our loaders are familiar with the history of the oaae. and the humane action of his Excellency will be generally commended.”— Jfyankfort (Ky.) Yeoman. _ I read this little paragraph and my mind went back six years. I knew John - -Brisben,- and L also knew his twin brother Joseph. I was familiar with the details of the action that placed John Brisben in a felon’s cell, and now when the sad affair is brought back to mind so vividly I must write it out, for never before have I met*,’ in prose or poetry, in real life or in romance, a greater hero than plain, matter-of-fact John Brisben. The Brisbeus came of good stock. I think the great-grandfather of my hero emigrated to Kentucky when Kenton’s Station, between the present city of Maysville and the historic old town of Washington, was the principal settlement on the “dark and bloodv ground.” He cametrom Upper Pennsylvania and located about five miles from the Ohio river, on Limestone creek. He was an industrious, strong-limbed, iron-hearted old fellow, and in a few years his surroundings were of the most comfortable description. One of ;>his sons, Edwin Brisben, once represented Kentucky in the Federal Congress. I think he was tire grandfather of John and Joseph Brisben. Their father’s name was Samuel, and he died when they were little children, leaving his widow an excellent blue-grass farm and a snug little fortune in stocks, bonds and mortgages. The widow remained a widow until her death. Mrs. Samuel Brisben was a Sod women, and she idolized her twin yS. Like most twins, the brotliers .resembled each other in a striking manner, and even intimate acquaintances oould not tell them apart. But although the physical resemblance was so strong there was great dissimilarity in the dispositions of the twins. Joseph Brisben was surly and morose, sometimes cunning and revengeful. He was withal a dreamer and an enthusiast; a man welllearned in books, a brilliant, frothy talker when he chose to be sociable (which was seldom), a splendid horseman, and an excellent shot. John Brisben, on the contrary, was cheerful and bright, honorable and forgiving. He was a man of high moral principle, intensely practical and methodical, cared little for books, and, although he said iftrat little, he was a splendid companion. Ho was a poor horseman, and I don’t "think he ever shot a gun in his life. He cßaw nothing of the poetry of life, and as -for sport, he enjoyed himself only when 3bard at work. He loved his brother, end when they were boys together suffered punishment many times, and unvcomplainingly, that “Jodie” might go ecot free. His life was therefore one constant sacrifice, but the object of this living adoration made but shabby returns for this unselfish devotion. ' They were 20 years old when their mother died very suddenly. Joseph flnade a great pretense of grief, and was mo hysterical at the grave that he had to be led away. John, on the contrary, never demonstrative, took the great affliction with bis customary coolness, He said but little and shed no tears. The property left to the bovs was considerable. The day they were 21 years old the trustees met and made settlement. There was the blue-grass farm valued at $50,000, and SIOO,OOO in well-invested securities which "could be turned into money. Joseph demanded «division. * “You can take the farm, Jack,” lie eaid. “I was Dever cut out for a farmer. Give me $75,000 in money for my ahare.” Sothis sortof a division was made. John continued on at the homestead, working in his plain, methodical way, and slowly adding to his share of the money what he could raise out of the profits of the farm. Joseph, with his newly-acquired wealth, set up an establishment at the nearest town and began a life of pleasure-pleasure of the grosser sort. His brother gave him no advice for he knew it was useless. J osepb epent his money with great prodigality, before*be knew it he was a beggar. In the meantime John’s $25,000 had doubled itself. One day Joseph came to him with a full confession of his pecuniary troubles: . , •▼jack,” he said, “I am not only a beggar, but lam heavily in debt. Help me nut like a good fellow, and I will settle down and begin life in sober earnest. ▼Tith my capacity for business I can noon make money enough to repay you. I have sown my wild oats, and with a lits 1a belt) I can soon recover all that I have squandered so foolishly.” FoV an answer John Brisben placed trig game to an order for the $25,000 he so laboriously. -Willthat be enough, Jodie ?” he ask-

ed, “because I have as much more, which you can have if. it is necessary.” “This will be sufficient, old fellow,”was the reply. “In two years I will pay it back." * f" -• He went back to town, drew his money, paid bis debts, sold some of his horses and. discharged several of his servants. Twenty thousand dollars was left out of the loan. He invested this in business, and for a while seemed to have really reformed. John was en-com-aged to say: “Jodie will come out all right. He is smarter than I, and in five years will be worth more money than i could make in a life-time.” In less Than three years Joseph Brisben’s affairs were in the hands of his creditors, and a sheriff’s officer closed out his business. Again ho turned to his brother for help and sympathy. “I own that I managed a triflfe carelessly,” ho said by wav of explanation. “Experience is a dear teacher, and the lesson I have learned I shall never forget. If you come to my assistance now I can soon recover myself.” Once more John Brisben placed his name to a check payable to the order of his brother, and Joseph entered into business again. ’ In two years he was a bankrupt. “I shall never succeed in business; Jack,” he said. “Help me out of this trouble and I will live with you on the farm. I shall succeed as a farmer.” It took all of John Brisben’s hoard to pay his brother’s debts, but lie made no complaint, uttered no reproach. He, said: IT __..-V',.

“I am glad you are coming back to the farm, Jodie. You need do no work, and we will be very happy together. So Joseph took up his residence at the farm, and remembering his brother’s words, devoted his time principally to hunting, fishing... and riding aboutthe country. In the meantime John Brisben had fallen in love, and the daughter of a neighboring farmer, Compton by' name, was his promised wife. Being a man of strict honor him - self, and having full confidence in his brother, he did not object when Joseph began to pay lus affianced .very marked attention. “I am glad he likes her,” he thought. “I am so busy on the farm that I have little time for pleasure, and Alice is so fond of amusement.” One night Joseph came to him just as the shadows of evening were beginning to fall. There was a triumphant ring in his voice when he spoke. “Jack, old boy;” lie said, holding out his hand, “congratulate me, I think that from to-day I can date the beginning of a new- life. Alice Compton has promised to be my wife.’’ - He was too much engrossed with his new happiness to see the effect of this announcement as portrayed on John’s face. He did not notice how the strong man’s hand trembled in his own. “Is this true?” faltered John at last. “Why, of course it is. AVe yon not glad? We love' each other and shall be very happy.” “ ‘We love each other and shall be very happy!’” repeated John mechanically. and all the sunshine of his life sunk behind the heavy clouds of despair. “Yes, Jodie, lam glad, and wish you long years of happiness.” He turned away and staggered, rather than walked, to his own room. He did not stir all night. Once a deep, sobbing groan struggled to his lips, and the moon beans struggling through the’window fell upon his face, and surprised two great tears stealing down his pale cheeks. He brushed away this evidence of weakness and sorrow. and when the morning came, no one looking into his calm, serene eyes would have guessed how hard was the battle that had been fought and won in that lonely chamber. .= - ~"' : h —— vThey were married, and the man rejected by the bride and supplanted by the groom was the first to congratulate the newly-married pair. A vacant house on the farm was fitted up for their reception, and John Brisben's money paid for the furnishiug. “Hereafter, Jodie,” he said, “we will divide the profits of the farm, I don’t need much,and you shall have the larger share.” Ten years passed away, and John Brisben, an old man before his time, still worked from dawn till dark that his brother might play the gentleman and keep in comfort the large family which the years bad drawn around him. It has been necessary to mortgage the old homestead to raise money to pay Joseph's gambling debts, for of late years he had played heavily and had invariably lost. One day—it was in the summer of 1877—a forged check was'presented at one of the banks at the shire town, by Joseph Brisben, and the money for which it called was unhesitatingly paid, over to hinl. He was under the influence of liquor at the time, and deeply interested in a game of cards for high stakes, which was in progress. The check was for $2,500, I think. Before daylight the next morning Joseph Brisben had lost every dollar of it. To., drown his chagrin he became beastly drunk, and while in this condition an officer arrived and apprehended him for forgery and uttering a forged check. The prisoner was.c-anfined in jail, and word of his disgrace sent to John Brisben. The latter read the messagefAffd a mist came over his eyes. He groaned audibly, and but for a strong effort of the will would liave fallen to the floor, so weakened was he by the shock. “She must not know it,” he said to himself, and he made instant preparation to visit his brother. When he reached the jail he was admitted to the cell of the wretched criminal. The brothers remained there for several hours. What passed during the interview will never be known. When John Brisben emerged from the jail he went straight to the magistrate who had issued the warrant for the apprehension of Joseph Brisben. . , “’Squire,” he said in his low, hesitating way, “you Lave made a mistake.” “In what xray, Mr. Brisben?” asked the magistrate, who had a high regard for his visitor. “You have caused the arrest of An innocent man.” “But”—began the magistrate. “Issue an order for my brother’s instant release. He is innocent of the ilftent to do wrong. lam the guilty

man. I .forged the name of Charles Ellison to the check whicli he uttered. He did hot know,-that it was a forgery.” “You!” cried the astonished magistrate. “You a forger—impossible?” “Nothing is impossible in these days.” said the white-haired old man, sternly. “I alone am guilty. My brother is innocent.” So stoutly did he aver that he was the forger that the magistrate reluctantly issued a warrant for his arrest, and at the-same time wrote an* order to the jailer for the release of Joseph Brisben. , * j “My constable will be in soon,” said the magistrate, but the old hero picked up both the papers. “I will not trouble him,” he said; “I will excute botli papers.” And he did. Handing the jailer both papers, he explained tlieir meaning thus: “They have made a mistake. It is I who am to be your prisoner.— My brother is innocent.” Accordingly Joseph Brisben was released and returned to the farm. John remained at the jail a prisoner. When the extraordinary affair became known, several prominent citizens offered to go on the accnsed man’s bond, but he Afronld not accept their kind offices. At the trial he plead guilty and was sentenced to fifteen years’ imprisonment at hard labor in the penitentiary. Joseph came to see him before he was removed to Frankfort, but their interview was a private one. Joseph Brisben remained at the farm, but lie was a changed man. From the day of liis release from jail down to the time of his death, he was never known to touch a card, and a drop of liquor never passed his lips. Last April he died, and his confession, duly sworn to before a justice of the peace, was made public after his burial. In substance it was this: That he was guilty of the forgery for which his heroic brother was suffering a long imprisonment. “It was my brother’s wish, not mine,” reads the document. “H‘e insisted that lie who had no ties of blood x>r marriage could better suffer the punishment and the digraee than 1 who had dependent on me a large family.” Noble John Brisben! Of such stufi are heroes made, Detroit Free Press.

The Wisdom That Conies Only With Years.

It is a singular analogy which is offered with the life of human flowers by the. growth of those of a frailer and more perishable sort. Fair and sweet and delicate are youth and maidenhood as the strawbell and anemone and twin linnaeas; rich and beautiful are the early years of life as roses and carnations are; jbut in the riper, maturer life is strength for vital work that needs must exhaust the earth, so soon is it to be followed by mild decay. Our statesmen do their great work in this season: our poets try their wings in May and June, but their larger - flight is now; our novelists write from intuition only till the ripeness of experience comes; our young lawyers may have talent and acumen, but they have not the power that is theirs later with rounded intellect and completer knowledge of life ; our young physicians may be fresh from walking famous hospitals abroad, but they have not the habits and memories of twenty years by night and day at the side of sick beds to make their wisdom seem like genius; our young preachers may tickle the fancy with their airy eloquence and gift of words, but they will not touch the heart as they do when they have tasted at all the springs of sorrow and sympathy the draught that added years, and they alone, shall proffer them. It has needed what is equivalent to the fervent and accumulated heats which belong to that middle of life as of the year, to call out the full force of what is in them, and the flame burns then with all its might, for presently it must fall in ashes, presently the beats will all be gone; no more will the vital efflux of the receding sun send its impulse through the roots of life, no more will soul or flower expand to the rich light of day, but the autumn damps and the chill of the grave will rise round them.— Harper's Bazar.

In a New York Saloon.

There is nothing cheap here, and few kings have taken their toddy in better quarters. You walk up brownstone steps under blazing lights into a room as bright and beautiful as any in New York. If at night, the blaze of light dazzles you, and .you might think you : had stumbled into a palace. A knight in plated armor stands before yon, bronzes and statues look at you from different parts of the room. The most elegant paintings hang surrounded by rich velvet upon the Avail, and great mirrors of heavily-plated glass reflect the many-colored lights of the cut-glass chandeliers. Everything is elegant here. There is no shoddy and no veneering. The room is paneled with carved mahogany, and the tables scattered here and there over the Mosaic floor are of the same polished wood. If you take a chair, it is of the bent woo'd of Austria, and if you call for a drink you will be served in a cut-glass goblet, and your change avill be handed you by a gentlemanly waiter on a silver platter. A silver cuspidore, shining as bright as Vanderbilt’s spoons, stands beside you, and if you ask for a pretzel to eat with your beer it will be brought you on a piece of porcelain decorated as beautifully as that on the President’s table. Cor. Cleveland Leader.

“Only a Poplar.”

It won't do, to be exclusive in our taste about trees. There is hardly one of them which has not peculiar, beauties in some fitting place. I remember a tall poplar of monumental proportions and aspect, a vast pillar of glossy green, placed on the summit of a lofty hill and a beacon to all the country around. A native of that region saw fit to build his house very near it, and, having a fancy that it might blow down some time and exterminate himself and any incidental relatives who might be “stopping" or “tarrying" with him —also laboring under the delusion .that human life is under all dircumstnnces to be preferred to vegetable existence—had the groat poplar cut down. It is so easy to say: “It is only a poplar!” and so much harder to replace its living cone than tc build a gigantic obelisk! , v ' V Vaulting ambition—The design of J the bank-burglar.

AN ALASKA GLACIER.

4 Mountain of Glittering Ice Cnckllnf In the Sun. [Cor St. Louis Globe-Democrat.J Mount Crillon showed his, hoary head in glimpses between the clouds, and then rounding "Willoughby Island,which tile owner declares is solid marble of a quality to riy&l'that of Peptilicus and Carrara, we saw the full front of the great glacier. At the first breathless glance at that glorious ice world all fancies and dreams were surpassed, and the marvelous beauty of those shining, silvery pinnacles and spires, the deep blue buttresses, the arches and aisles of that fretted front struck one with awe. In all Switzerland there is nothing comparable to these Alaska glaciers, where the frozen waters rise straight from the sea, and a steamer can go up w ithin an eighth of a mile and cruise beside them. Add to the picture of high mountains and snowy glaciers a sapphire bay scattered over with glittering little icebergs, and nature can supply nothing more to stir one’s soul, to rouse the fancy and imagination, and enchant the senses. The vastness of this Muir glacier is enough alone to overpower one with a sense of the Blight and strength of these forces of nature. Dry figures can give one little idea of the great desolate stretches of gray ice and snow that slope out of sight behind the jutting mountains, and the 4 tumbled and broken front forced down and into the sea. Although not half of the glacier has been explored it is said to extend back 400 miles, while by a side glacier it connects with the Davidson Glacier on Lynn Channel. What we could know accurately was that the front of the glacier was two miles across and that the ice wall rose 500 and 1,000 feet from the water. The lead cast at the point nearest the icy front gave eighty fathoms or 240 feet of Water, and in the midst of those deep soundings, icebergs, filled with boulders, lay grounded with forty feet of their summits visible above the water. At very low tide there is a continual crash of falling ice, and for the half day that we speflt beside this glacier there was a roar as of artillery every few minutes, when tons of ice would go thundering down into the water. We scrambled, oxer two miles of loose round boulders, beside a roaring river, until we came to its subterranean source at the side of the glacier. It was a hard three miles of climbing from the boats to the level field of ice, and then we wandered at will over the seamed and ragged surface. The ice crackled under our feet with a pleasant mid-winter sound and the wind blew keenly from over those hundreds of miles of glacier fields, but there was the gurgle and hollow' roar of the water heard in every deep crevasse, and trickling streams spread a silver network in the sunshine. The amateur photographers turned their cameras’to right and left, risked their necks in deep ravines and climbed the surrounding points to get satisfactory views. Every one gathered a pocketful of round pebbles and shreds of ancient cedar trees carried down by the flood, and then, having w orn rubber shoes and boots to tatters on the sharp ice and sunk many times in the treacherous mud, we reluctantly obeyed the steamer’s whistle and started back to the boats. A magnigeent sunset flooded the sky that night and filled every icy ravine with rose and orange lights. At the last view of the glacier, as we steamed away from it, the whole brow was glorified and transfigured with the fires of sunset; the blue and silvery pinnacles, the white and shining front floating dreamlike on a roseate and amber sea, and the range and circle of dull violet mountains lighting their glowing summits into a sky flecked with crimson and gold. .

Learn to Catch your Own Trout.

The labors of Seth Green, Roosevelt, and others interested in preserving and perpetuating our best fish, are rapidly restocking our trout streams, and every farmer who has a running brook on his farm can now, at very little expense, have trout of his own to order. The farmer boy looks with wondering admiration at the fly-casts of his city cousin, who has come t» the country for his vacation, but if he will give a little time and attention, he can very soon acquire the act of. fly- fishing, and excel liis cousin, for he lias more strength in his arm and endurance generally. Hear what David Foster has to say; -It is a well established axiom that in skillful casting lies the chief condition of success. “He can throw a good line,” is equivalent to asserting the proficiency of a good rodster, whether he be fly, mid-water, or bottom fisher. The ordinary routine cast is the first to be practiced and acquired by the tyro. This is accomplished by bringing round the rod so as to describe a half circle from over the left shoulder, and delivering it drectlv over the right, and the action emanating from the wrist and elbow only. It is capital practice for the young student to cast upon a lawn or any closely-cut turf. Line to the length of the rod should first be delivered efficiently and noatly, when a hat should be placed as the" receptacle of the fly; alter the distances have been lengthened at intervals a tumbler may be substituted, and finally a small wine glass. When these different exercises have been successfully accomplished, with a fair length of line, the rodster may safely try his hand upon the bosom of the watery element. Lightness and precision follow practice and experience. Caro and patience in execution are required, after the rudiments of the art have been acquired; a non-observ-ance of these is sure to materially interfere with the sport. Perseverance is all very well in its place, but when anaided by the exercise of due care and tact in presenting the lure, it will meet with small result. The tyro should therefore practice assiduously, admire and aspire to a nearer acquaintance with the scaly beauties; they are coy anct' ungrateful. The instant they become aware of his paying them the least attention, they move contemptuously away; and tio matter how lovingly he drops' 1 them a line, aH further correspondence is thankfully declined. It behooves him, therefore, to keep out of

sight as mucfy as possible, never allowing the sun to extend his shadow across the stream, always, also, avoiding conspicuously bright clothing; for notwithstanding the naturalists’ persistent assertions as to the dullness of the eyes of the fish, owing, it is affirmed, to the skin of the head covering the pupil of the eye, the trout fisher knows very well that in their own element they habitually exercise the most keen apd discriminating powers of vision, when the water is clear; and any moving or brightly colored objects outside it attract their attention.— American ' Agriculturist.

The First Whistle.

The story of the first whistle on the Missouri river is amusing. Its introduction dates back to 1844. At that. time the settlers on the Missouri river were on the habit of making regular yearly visits to St. Louis to do their trading for themselves and friends. They were not provided with daily intercourse with the outside world, and many who lived back from the river seldom, if ever, saw a steamboat more than once a year. It happened that during the fall of 1844 the new steamer Lexington started up the Missouri river, loaded down to the guards wdth freight. The steamer was provided wdth a steam w-histle—the first used on the Missouri river—and as it happened no one knew about it except Warner, who was a wag and a lover of a joke. The night after leaving St. Louis the passengers were collected together playing cards (for fun) in the cabin, when the talk turned upon steamboat explosions, then very common. “I feel perfectly safe on this boat.” said Warner, as he dealt the cards. “Why?” inquired Yocum,the planter. “Why?” echoed the rest of the company. “I w ill tell you why,” said the wag. carefully studying his cards. “This boat t is provided with a new patent safety valve, which notifies passengers on board when it is about to blow up. It is a concern which makes a most unearthly noise, and -when you hoar it, it is time'to get back aft or jump overboard.” Notwitstanding the fact that Warner told his story with the most solemn and earnest countenance, some were skeptical. Not so, however, with the planter. Next morning, when the Lexington was steaming up the long, straight stretch of river just b'elow Washington, Mo., the passengers were at breakfast. The meal had been called, and all were busily engaged in doing justice to the kind of meals they were accustomed to serve on steamboats in those days. Suddenly the whistle commenced to blow', the first time on the trip.. The passengers looked at each other a moment, and horror and dismay spread over their faces. The first man to realize the situation and act was Yocum, the planter, who, with hair erect and blanched face, jumped up, crying as he pulled over one after another of the passengers: “Bun, run for your lives; the d—d thing is going to bust! Come with me and le£s save ourselves.” - -* Of course there was a stampode for the rear of the boat, and i t was only by the exertions of some of the crew that the more excited were restrained from jumping in the river. -Kasnas Ci ty Star.

Brain Work and Food.

The notion that those who work only with their brain , need less food than those who labor with their hands has long been proved to be fallacious. Mental labor causes gaeater waste oi tissue than muscular. According to careful estimatgs, three hours of hard study wear out the body more than a whole day of hard physical exertion. “Without phosphorus, no thought,’’ is a German saying; and the consumption of that essential ingredient of the brain increases in proportion to the amount of labor which this organ is required to perform. The wear and tear of the brain are easily measured by careful examination of the salts in the liquid excretions. The importance of the brain as a working organ is shown by the amount of blood it receives, which is proportionately' greater than that of any other part of the body. Onefiftli of the blood goes to tlie brain, though its average weight is only onefortieth of .that of the body. This fact alone would be sufficient to prove that brain-workers require more food, and even better food, than mechanics or farm laborers. —Boston Journal oj Chemistry.

A Typical Michigan Girl.

A young lady living two miles from town", weighing 116 pounds, - and only seventeen years of age, arises at 5 a.m. and milks eight cows, helps her mother get breakfast, trfkes the team and carries the milk of thirty-two cows to the cheese factory, two miles ‘distant, and brings back a load of whey; then hitches the team to the machine or rake, as the occasion requires; does all the mowing, reaping and raking on the farm of 800 acres. At the close of each day’s work she milks the cows, assists her mother in finishing the housework, and retires at 9 p.m. Beside this, she keeps the book of the farm, is fair looking and intelligent. The young man who wins her* hand has a fortune.— Charlotte (Mich.) Letter.

Mennonites.

There are about four thousand Men 1 nonites, or Anabaptists, in Manitoba, divided into ten or twelve villages, and occupying the richest land. They came seven years ago, a large reservation being set apart by the Government for their exclusive use. Their language is a mixture of Russian and Low Dutch, and their customs and habits are primitive in the extreme. They are not at all cleanly, living under the same rool with pigs, cows, horses and poultry, and keep aloof from the settlers. Their elders decide minor disputes, but the power belongs to the people, without whose consent no business of* importance can be transacted. They are, of course, subject, to the provincial law. 1 The best time to eat a green apple is after it has become ripe. We give this information on good Minority. — Lowell Citieen. • •

PITH AND POINT.

Calling the roll—Yelling “ Hot burn?.” A thunder storm is. a high-toned aflair. \ A batchelob compares a shirt-but-ton to life, because it too often hangs by a thread. ■ " ■ ! “No,” laid a Philadelphia—phiianthrbpist, “I care iaothing about the' swindle; I only sued the man as an act pf charity. There are 65,000 lawyers |n the United States, and not work , enough for half of them- — Philadelphia i News. . , Ouk esteemed local contemporary, the Times, had an editorial yesterday morning headedr “What Can We Have to Drink?” When you are drinking , with us, brother, you can have just what you call for, if the apothecary has it in stock.— Lowell Citizen. A bridegboom’s caution: The Rev. Samuel Earnshaw, of Sheffield, says that he was once marrying a couple j when he said to the man: “Say after me, ‘With my body I thee worship.’ ” The man innocently asked: “Must I kneel down to her” ?— London Echo. “Do you always kiss him and say ‘good-bye,’ every morning, as he leaves the house ?” asked a lady of a wife who had just parted from her husband at the street door. “Yes, every morning; I may never again see him alive, and if that should be the case, I wish to retain remembrance of a pleasant parting,” the wife replied. “Well,” remarked a woman in a New England village, talking to her summer boarders about a neighbor, “she’s the greatest natural liar I ever saw, and I’ve often thought if she’d only had a first-class education in her youth what an author she’d a-made before us.—Boston Transcript. In a crowds" Who’s that man?” “Oh, it is one of the most prominent IrishAmericans.” “Who is that other man ?” “He is a distinguished German-Ameri-can.” “And that one?” “A well;knoWn French-American." “And that one over there with a bundle under,, his arm ?” “Oh, he is nobody—npthing but an American-American. Lawyer—“Do you not consider Mr. Biggs, my client, a man of truth and veracity?” Witness hesitated. LawWell, I put my question in another form. Do you think he has a mind which can not distinguish truth from falsehood?” Witness (eagerly)“Oh, no, sir. I’m sure he can.” Lawyer —“Your Sure of it—and why are you sure of it?” Witness—“l know he can distinguish between the two. It isn’t possible that he would always happen to lie. If he didn’t, know the difference, he would tell the truth by mistake once !in a while.” Lawyer.—“ That’ll do, sir; j you may stand down.'” “Now, Johnny you’ve been in the hot | pun again.”. “No, I haven’t, either.” “Why, I saw you right in the hot sun.” ! “No, vou didn’t see me in no hot sun.” I “Do sou think I’d lie ?” “I don’t know j what you’d call it, but you didn’t see mein the sun.” “Why, Johnny, will you presist in contradicting me ? I- saw you sitting on the curbstone, right in the broiling hot sun. Poor child! Mgybe the sun has affected your mind! Now, wasn’t you in the sun?” Maybe it’s done that with your mind, fur how could I git in the sun? Do you know how far the sun is from here?” Then his mother slipped off’ one of her slippers, and Johnny slipped out of the side door.— Kentucky Journal. VET ANOTHER. Only a pair of breeches, —— i ——— • Only a ragged cm!. Only some little trinkets, Only a home-made boat. 'y: Only a mangled baSC-bart Placed in a drawer with care, Only beside it some marbles; A pocket-knife, too, was there,. Only an empty trundle-bed, Only a young voice cone, Only a mother’s bitter tears, Only a heart forlorn. ... Only a slender figure Laid away in.the family lot, Only a little toy pistol That busted when it was shot. —K. 0. Picayune l ' WH£RE THE WASP FAILED. A wasp went madly to his work, And various things did tackle, He stung a boy, and then a dog, • And made a rooster cackle. He settled on a drummer's cheek And labored with a will; He prodded there for half an hour. And then he broke his drill. I Toledo Blade.

The Wheel and the Wagon.

Upon an occasion one of the front wheels of a wagon became sulky and obstinate, and called out to the other parts of the vehicle: “I am tired of being dragged around as if I liad no mind of my ow n. As the tongue bends I must follow, and I am always" behind it. I not only have a mind of my own, but unless I can hereafter run this business I shall refuse to move.” The driver of the vehicle thought the matter over, and finally told the Wheel to go ahead. “The first thing I shall do is to get out of the dust,” replied the . Wheel, rind it made for the grass. It next decided that it was easier to travel in the meadow than upon the highway, and it balked at every hill and rested so often that little progress was made, and two of the other wheels w'ere finally crowded against the bank and broken. “Alas! that I did not know better!” sighed the Driver, as he jumped down to contemplate the wreck. “One who undertakes to steer a ship from the .cook’s room will surely bring up on the ’beach.” Moral: A house whero the head isn’t boss, wobbles as it runs. —Detroit Free Press.

Evenings at Home.

We visited once in a large family where it was the duty of each sister in turn to provide the evening’s occupation, and there was a pleasant rivalry between them as to whose evening Bhould be the most enjoyable. The brothers entered fully into the spirit of the simple home entertainments, and were as loth to bq obliged to spend an evening away from home as their sisters and parents were to have them absent. Every one spoke of this family as an uncommonly united one, for each and every member showed such a strong attachment for the home to which each one contributed so much pleasure.—*■ The Signal. , '