Rensselaer Republican, Volume 16, Number 17, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 3 January 1884 — Page 2

fefjflyWft*yrmtr re r " r.r: t ;■ v, .« ._. onus ox A time, it Mini ten a. nrng*. There tioTor wm mu mournful dlriro Ofiiiltmtrcl'r h*n' or poet's rhyiae, A* this «*d mntenoo, in which monte The hurled yow*-"Onoe on a time I The atMmt r«*t tt* charm* recall*--Hapeak* in !•«««*«* Mrontn wtWlmo; - A eWtow o'er llW'n »un»hln»i full*, At those welrtl \vor<l»—"Onoe on a Umo I "Onoo on a time!" Oh, heartof mlnct Keer kindred to "there mlaht. have Itoonl" Wad *yllalm*. what thmnrlit* arc thine! Anil townie for land* unknown, unaeonl "Once on a tttne." with enrolo** hand, 1 Muttered rood on doaort «| aeo: g And fol the wm«d« forsook the'Umt. And golden fruit t-row in tholr place I Thus, what we do and what wo nay, Though hum)toted with the fleeting iwtnt, Rntturod until I ho perfoot day. And ahall confront ua oaoh at laat! AOV TO TIIK Oil) MAN’S KYKN. Itodde the open window _ r A gray haired man aat down. j The railroad train that here him toed through the grimy town; And everywhere, extended ■■■• Aa far aa cy« could view. The yellow corn and barley Amlfragrant orchards grew. Along the eteelv river r-7 7 Orrat faotortea wore aorn, And liny new-born liamlria Were nestled In the green: And aounda or engine labor Were raising to the skies, * And all the landscape bristled Willi algna of Onlerprinc. The old man gaxed abontlilm _ And wiped away a tear, “Alltt," he aluhed. "OUthlotUsl leall I held most dttar. , • --.re -Thetreee, the wood*, th<s tnOnntalns, The proaitenta I have known— All things that were familiar Are passed away and gone." beside Ihoetianger loitered , A little shrill-voiced chap, Andslreplied a small l'rlxe package Into the stranger's tap. The old man started quickly. lie stalled and tans mute, He eyed the smalt boy's basket. Ills pa|ici a and his fruit. Anfl from his labo- lug hoaom Came sighs of glad relief. And clutching at Ihe train I toy, ‘ He uttered this In brief: fancied all was altered, A glad a,uprise ha* eoine, 1 see the sell-saute packages 7 You had 'ere 1 loft home,* —AV»o r<irl’ Journal.

HELENORE.

BY BELLE C. CREENE.

_ Sho cams to our door one dreary November day in a pouring rain, and bogged in broken English that wo would take her into our nervine. She belonged to a miserable French Canadian family that had, lived in the city for many years; but. shiftless and degraded as they were, it was evident, „ from the young girl’s account, that they condidered her the black sheep among them; and her mother, always harsh with her, for some reason had recently grown more so, till that morning, after an unusually cruel beating, Helonoroshe said her name was Helenore jlaldeau *had tied from under her hand, and . shaking off the dust of her native alley, wandered, she neither know nor cared whither, till hunger and fatigue led her to seek a shelter with us. Her plain and somewhat heavy face was swollen and red with weeping, and there was a look of pleading in her great soft black eyes that was difficult to resist. “Oh, if you would but try 1 me!” she said, “I ean do good many tings: and 1 oart> only for some bread to oat, and plats.' to leev, and"—with a shudder—- ■ “to be hurt no more.” 1 held the door open and looked at her with compassion st irring my heart. Poor child! slioseemed so young and yet so forlorn, standing there in her stripping garments. She could not Inaro been more than 15 or ttlyeays old. and she looked into my face with wn exju'ession of gentle confidence that 1 felt it would be cruel to wholly disappoint. And then she asked so little - “only a place to leev and bread to oat, and to be hurt no more." The tears came to my eyes as the simSlo words recurred to me. and yielding > a sudden impulse 1 took her in, fed her and made her as comfortable as possible; meanwhile turning it over suid over in my mind as to n hat 1 should ■do with her. At dinner time 1 held a consultation with Jack, the nominal head of the family; 1 say nominal advisedly, for he insists that I defer to him only as a matter of form, after having fully determined in my own mind upon any course of action. _ • _j ■ - - He this as it mayrhe firms my decisions, thus making assurance double sure; so tins time, after looking over my “very latest," tvs he called her, he promised to go to her mother and negotiate, if be could, for Helcnore's service's. As a result of that interview he found out for a certainty that Madame Baldean was a horrible old vixen; but she readily agreed to let her remain in our amplov if, after a suitable trial, we $0 desired. When Jack came home at night he found us all together in the sitting-room. I was sewing, and Helonoro was sitting near me’ playing with little Nod enr 5-old U»y. . • "Welt Heleuore," said lie lightly, "1 Have seen your mother, and you can «*tay us if you are a good girl." Hhe turned toward lum with a look Of unutteedde gratitude and tyied in 1 vaiu to speak; then, with one swift movement. she threw herself at my feet, ond.tasteniug lifer great eves upon mine with on expression! shall never forget, •be made the sign of the cross upon her forehead and breast Wo t»nw her do this afterwards on several occasions when deeply moved, aud it wo* a* expressive and touching os characterise, W« soon become much attached to her, and her odd, wild ways furnished ua.no liUh' amusement. One of her favor 111' pastimes was to sit with baby iu the back door ami play her "music.* as «he eelledit, This waaouittventiett of Jieteuore'a own. and was only one of liar many and grotesque but poetic only a large sheet of thick «tout r#» round up into a huge trum«M«t shop*. and on thU queer instrument aha would uiav for hours, bringing out ikw wiost unearthly, hnt withal, musical ( ■. , I > d. ||. - lUitl ttt%r U (itapVwt fit fifitl It) ■'fiPPlppt WtßWutt’WPi JpfiP INWf wW * vwr 'ft

Sometimes quite an audience would gather around her while! she played, and aho always received*thoir applause with much dignity, and os a matter of course. , But t here was one thing about' this instrument very remarkivltte and mysterious; it responded"to Helcnoro'B touch and to tier'rwloho. ” Many others tried it, but always with poor success. Even Jack, who it an u sort of facility with a dozen instruments, and can play the whole opera of “Patience" on a tin whistle, after a fashion, finally gave it up in despair, declaring that ho believed llelenoire was a witch ; undoubtedly it was the peculiarity of her Voice that gave to her tootingsuali wonderful effect. <•-- She seldom sang, and when she did. it seemed to be solely for the sako of giving vent to sonio powerful emotion ajfliorwise inexjtressibie. Her voice ■is low. but very sweet, and flexible; she had no high notes. I tliihk she considered them too light anfl frivolous to comoy the feelings of her soul. 1 once asked her why she never sang high. “Mine heart is down here.” she answered, hiving her lmnd upon her heart; and I was glad to believe that in those low, deep tones of hers, so tremulous and so solemnly sweet, the strange, poetic soul of this poor, untaught creature found full expression and was satisfied. She, sang her own words generally, and they were without connection—a senseless jumble; and vet as silo sang them them often possessed a weird and startling significance. Hero is ono of her songs: "0 happy, happy met 80 still, so still, white moon. To Iccv, to lov, to die, All attll and while, to dlol" By questioning l found out wlmt these words meant to her. She was always at. ease with me, and could express herself more freely to me than to anybody else; so she tried to explain this verse. She said she was “Oh, so happy” with Us. She loved her little chamber where she could bo “all still,” she loved to have the “white moon” look so kindly upon Uer at night, and she felt it would be good to dio there “all still and white.”

In the spring, however, a change came over our Holcnore. Her deep content gave place gradually to a strange restlessness. She was no longer the faithful, attentive little handmaid I had learned to love and trust, She seemed to bo irrcsistablv drawn a wav from all in-door occupations; if a bird sang near the house she would drop her work and run eagerly to the window as if she heard her ov n name called. If sho were sent down town on an errand, sho was unaccountably long in returning: and. finally, one l afternoon when she took little Ned for his accustomed airing she was gone for hours, wandering away across the fields, and bringing him homo at dusk, lying back fast, asleep in his carriage, with a wreath of violets like a halo round his golden head, and more clutched tightly in his chubby hands. She received my surprised reproof iu sullen silence, and I waited in vain for some account of her absence. She grew more and more strange and restless overv day. fretting and chafing over her light tasks like some caged animal, until, finally, 1 questioned her: '‘Holcnore,” said 1 kindly, “wliat is it that ails yon? Tell me. and I will try to help yon." At first she frowned darkly and would not answer, but when 1 laid my hand gently and coaxingly upon iier head—-1 had noticed sho loved to have me do so—she yielded and lier tongue was loose. “Oh, madam, dAuot be angry,” she cried. “We have gypsy blood iu us, mine moder do say—and oh, l would bo goiug!" stretching out her arms toward the distant fields with a swift and eloquent gesture of longing. “Oh, let me go! I must go!” I was bot h shocked and disappointed, and I told her so. and tried to reason with her. “Where would you go?” I asked. “Tliere #n> no gypsies near that you could join, and you would soon starve and die alone; and, besides, how can you leave poor baby and me ? Ho you not love us, Holcnore?" ”Oh, Ido, I do!” she cried ately, throwing herself down rqxav the "fibof not to hear them call, I put mine fingers on my ears, but I hear them just the same!" "Who calls you, Helonoro?'’ I asked. "All things oVd-of-doors; the birds and lHa's and the winds. They call me always, always; thev say, ‘Heleuore. Heleuore, come!' and I must go!’’ she cried, springing to her feet and looking wildly around. / * 1 foaml she was losing her mind, and was much alarmed about her; we tried to divert and amuse her in every possible way, and for a few days site really seemed to be more quiet lint one morning we missed her. The afternoon previous, a hand-organ grinder and a woman, evidently liis wife, entered our grounds, and Helonoro went out to hear them play; aud we noticed that she stood conversing with them iu her own language for some ; time afterward. They had lieeu hanging about the neighborhood several days, and somehow* we felt sure she had gone with them. Our suspicions were confirmed by a farmer living a mile or so above us, who said he met them just at dusk, as lie was returning home from the oily—a man and a woman and our Helenore. He said he recognised Helenore at mice, and spoke to her, but she made no answer,. We learned furthermore from her mother, that an organ-grinder' and his wife tdd acquaintances cl Ike familv —bod been in the vicinity for a week past, aud had put up *-night or twoit tier house t and she doubted not that they were the same persons we had in ratiid Hhc manic light of her daughter's disappearance, saying, with a shrug of her fat shoulders, that "she would lie back soon enough," and seeming to think Mist iu any case %e were well rid of k«r, But we missed her and we mourned her, ami I did not try to fill her place. My "vary labs*" os look still colled

her, Boomed to have proved a sad failure. . . . • * * * _* * I was lingering in my rose-garden in the twilight of a warm September day, hanging fondly over a lied of pot hybrids—latest and sweetest of roses—when I suddenly missed little Ned from my side, and, looking aroupd for him, I spied him swinging on the front gate. 1 started to go toward hitn, and at that moment tlio figure of a woman sprang up, as it were out of the ground near him, and at the same moment I heard a glad cry from Ned: "Helenore! Hclenoro!”

It was our Helenore! She caught him to hor breast and flew, swift ns the wind, across tho lawn to meet me, aud dropping on Iter knees, with 0110 arm still around the bewildered child, she clung to me' desperatelyj sobbing and groaning: but not ono word did bln: speak. I begged her to rise, but she would not; so I sat down there on tho damp grass, and taking her head in mv lap, Hoothed her with the old touch of tiie hand and loved so well, Z ~BAt last she heaved a long tremulous sigh she lifted her face to mine. “I cannot ask you to forgeev,” she murmured humbly; “that would be too good for Helenore ; but 1 come to see von once more, and to tell you what is heavy hero” —pressing her hanu 011 her heart—“and then t.> die." I led .her into the house and drew from her the history of her experience since she left us in the spring. “Wero tho people with whom you went away kind to you?" I asked. “Kind!" the cr'o I, fiercely; "Oh, they' wore indeed most cruel: True, they did never hurt 1110 like mine nroder, but they hnvo made mo to suffer that I wish uot now to live any nfore.” “But you liked it at first, did you not —the fields and woods and the music?” “Yes; 1 liked—well to wander and to bo free: but I 1 canted soon that only children nnd birds and squirrels are truly free- not woman with a heart here mid here"—touching her forehead and laying her hand on her heart. I wondered at her words, but I understood them later. “For a few d tvs we had a happy time, and they were good to me, but then trouble came. 1 could not dance when I was tired, and I could not learn to sing their songs—and they laughed at my own poor songs; so they began to speak only bad words tome nnd to care not if I starved ami-suffered. —“We were far away—l know not

where—when wo oamo to large woods, where many men chopped the trees, and some wives and children were tliere, too, ami I begged the music man and woman that 1 might stay and w ork for them and loey in a little hut. ; and I stayed. They, too. came back afterward and worked.” “And were you happy there?’* She clasped lici'liands tightly over her bosom, and a new and strange expression swept over her face that I did not understand. j “Happv! happy!’ she murmured; “Oh. vesl listen I will tell yon! “One chopper was kind to me; life said ho loved me—loved me T” she repeated solemnly, with a tender thrill iu her voice that explained all. “And he was so kind to me, as if I had been a queen! It was he, too, madam, that did teach me to speak so well; for he was a Yankee man," she added proudly, “and yen see 1 do speak much better." I assented. “ Where is he now ?” I asked. “Oh, I know not! I know not!” she cried, rocking herself back and fortli and w ringing tier hands. ''That wicked man and woman took me away one night; t hey said that he. my Eloi, had sent for me to go to meet him far, far off ; and when we found him not they mocked and laughed at my pain. Oh, 1 could kill them! liars! beasts !" The last words were only a hiss oof rage, and she stopped short, choked with passion. “Helonoro,” I said, “why did they deceive you so ? What had you done to thenw? “ What had I done to them? Noting, noting; but they hated me like mine moder. and would hot that I should be happy.” Here she paused and a sudden revulsion of footing seemed to sweep over her, ''i • “None arc ever kind to Holcnore.” shesaid sadly —'StfSßSr bnVyoirtffid himr" Then lifting my hands to lii'r lips she kiss oil it reverently and made again that sign of the cross. I was deeply touched: I drew the girl to me and said, w ith tears on ray cheeks: “Stay with us, Holcnore, and try to be happy again.” , ' “What? say yon so?” she cried.her eyes wide with wonder. “Then, now, you do indeed forgeev like God.” And she began to weep naturally and softly, shedding those tears that always relieve the heart. She was very tired. and when I reminded her, presently. that her little chamber and pretty white bed wore waiting, she smiled tor the first time. ".-fh,” she said almost brightly, “it cannot lie that 1 shall die now, and perhaps my Eloi will find me, though I could not find him.” Her wonts proved prophetic. One night, a few weeks after her return, we were startled by the thrumming of a banjo nnder Helcnore's window. soon joined by a lusty voice bawling out right heartily some foolish ditty we hear in the streets.’ I sprang up at once. “Jack.” said I, “that is Helenore's Eloi; I know it!" I went quickly to her room—she had not yet retired for the night —and when I opened the door she was standing like a statue by her bed; she turned as 1 spoke her name, and, with a look of ecatacy, pointing to the window, w hispered: : \; ' * ■ .. ■ “Yes,” said I; "go down and ask him to come in." 5 "Wait, wait!” she said mysteriously: and seizing her “musk'”—the paper horn—she leaned far out of the window and blew blast upon blast of her most unearthly strains, which added to the roar of her lover's voice, produced an effect indescribably strange and ludiWe concluded that ha had heard

those sOuntts before, as otherwise, at tjio. first bl&st, he certainly must have taken to his heels and run away.' Elias Rogers—for that was the young man's name—was, in truth, a “Y r ankee man.'' as Helenore claimed, but he had lived much among the Canadians and spoke their language like his own. Wo found that lie was honestly in love with our Helenore; and, rough and ■ course ns he seemed, lie doubtless had a romantic, sympathetic nature, or he could not have understood or appreciated her as lie evidently did. We were relieved to find him in every way so worthy of her and so suited to make her happy. .And now my story is soon finished." Helenore left us again, but this time with happy smiles and the hope ol seeing us very often. • In short, while I write, she sits out on our piazza with her own baby'in her arms, and my Ned —grown now to he quite a big boy—leaning on her lqp. *— She is telling hint what he shall find when he comes to see her arid Eloi in the w oods where they are chopping — birds' eggs to add to. his collection, “Oh, go many kinds! but they will only take one from each nest, because the mother bird would be sad i n 1 grieve." Her heart is tender as of yrire, but it never aches now except for' others woes. - -77t<: Continent.

Humanitarian Fudge.

A good old man, being down town one evening, was invited to join the Humanitarian Fudgers. He was delighted. and lie joined. Next day, while iu his garden, he discovered a boy in his apple-tree. Hero was an opportunity for showing his neighbors howimportant a thing is humanitarian fudge. “See,” he says. "hOw readily I shall subdue this wicked boy with humanity!” So his neighbors all gathered at the fence, and looked ■through the crack. “My good boy!" cried the good old man. “if you will come down f join that tree I ll Brive you a great big piece of cake!” “Cheese' it, cully! Whattcr yu givin’ me?” returned the boy, who always used good language, because his parents were both rospec bridle. The neighbors behind the fence tittered. “Come, now, Von know how wicked it is to steal! I shall have to tell your father if your don't get down!” “He'll call you a liar, old chap, if you do. You’d Better go in the house.” The neiglibors tittered again. The good old man began to lose his temper. “Really, boy, I shall have to throw something at you if you don’t come down!" “Throw and be domed! you old fool! I ain't us reared o' yu!" retorted the boy. snatching another apple. “Haw. liaw now shouted the neighbors. Here the good old man, quite angry, grasped a handful of grass and hurled it at the boy. “Haw, haw! hee, haw!" .veiled tin* asinine neighbors. “Fire away, old Stick-in-the-mud!” cried the boy. The old man was red-hot, and some of the neighbors had nearly split, themselves. “You young scoundrel!" he shouted, seizing a big stick of hickory stove wood, “if you don't come down this inatftitt Piltinstyoiiy you infernal fifth?--beast!" And without giving the boy a ehaueo to reply, the good old man sent the cudgel flying. It grazed the urchins oar. He dnqqted his apple, as the good old man reached for another club, the young rascal howled: “Oh, Tandy, mister, if you'll only Jet mo come down. Fll pay for these apples, I will—Qh, Lordy!" Down lie came, and the neighbors, by instantly leaping the fence, prevented the good old man from killing the child on the spot The .good old man doesn't go down town any more. —Louisville Courier Journal. *

Gardens of the Sea.

Among the many curious analogies born of.inodern investigation, none are more interesting than those showing striking eases of parallelism in the habits and customs of animals whoso environments are totat.lv dissimilar. The ocean bed seems peopled with forms so resembling those of land that a modification of structure to conform with their surroundings alone appears to lie the point of difference. In drifting over the reefs of onr southern border, this resemblance between the creatures of land and sea is extremely striking. The gardens of the lower work! .ako»BsLia- lavish growth* trees;shrubs, waving vines are all reproduced in the wondrous forms of the sea. Here a forest of coral branches (Madrepora i raise their myriads of bristling points, each flowered by a delicate polyp, and presenting a rich olive-green tint in contrast to the deep bine of the channel upqu whose banks they grow. Pure as cjsrysfal. the water seems to intensify the beauty of the objects, even in the. greater depths;. gayly bedecked fishes move lazily about, rising and falling among the living branches. jHiising, perhaps, to pluck some morsei from aV limb, in all their motions re.ninding us of the birds of the shore. : These gorgeous parrot-fishes are the snn-fishes of the sea; wondrous tints—-azure-blue, golden-yellow, and red—mark them. Some appear irrideseent and bathed in metalic tints, as ii encased in burnished armor, while many more, in modest garb, fonnd in oar colder waters of the North, call to mind the robin and thrush, those weeome harbingers of spring. Bnt it is not in their color alone that the fishes resemble the birds: it is in the home-life and love of offspring that we find a close resemblance- Many ora nestbnilders, erecting structures as complicated as those of the birds, and eqalhng them in design and finish.—C. P. Hoider, » llarj*fr's Magasine,

Why She Was Punished.

Little Miss Alfc*&B years old. has a very unfortunate habit of erxing opoo the slightest pretext. One day last week she was warned that the next time she cried without good and sufficient cause* she would he punished. Soon afterward she bawled lustiiv. “Why are you erring?* she was asked. “Because Hridget would not let me go out to play. The punishment foMowed, and then this dialogue: “Do you knowwhy vou punished?” “Eth. mam ma."' “Why was it?" *Becauthe Brid gut would not let am go out **fd*J-"

MINISTERS AND DYSPEPSIA.

Advice to Ailing Clergymen front a Friendly Cayman. My dear vonng brother: If you can, at the outset of your ministerin'career, entirely divest yourself of any idea that you are possessed of lungs, throat or liver, believe me, it will be peace to your bones and mercy to your congregation, aud your Usefulness in the pulpit will be largely increased. _ j A whining man is always a horrible bore under all circumstances and in any profession. The more he whines, the less do w@ sympathize with him. e strive to avoid him. Wo listen to hicomplaints only when he corners ns: and then we don’t believe one-half of them. And we charitably say that he exaggerates the other half. And when wo believe he was only half so ill as he claimed to be first, it follows Ilia* 1 there is nothing whatever the matter with ltiin. Y'ou have seen those highlycolored manikins which the demonstrators use on tho platform, taking them apart to illustrate lectures on anatomy ? Well, I have sat ttmler the ministry of some preachers who came into the pulpit now and then, and exhibited themselves before the congregation as living wonders of dyspepsia, bronchitis, asthma, neuralgia, headache, torpid livers, ,sore throat, influenza, a large and care-fully-selected assortment of coughs and golds, and rheumatic troubles, inflamjmations, congestions, sprains, bruises, contusions, malarial affections, nnd all the various ills to which a preacher is heir. If you are an invalid, my dear brother, your congregation doesn’t want a full report of your case nnd a detailed statement of Liebig’s Concentrated 'Svrup of Genseng every Sunday morning. If a congregation is aiyrthing like other audiences, and I think it is, it doesn’t care one cent for your physical condition. The individual unit of the congregation will be moved with compassion for your infirmity, and will express and feel the deepest sympathy with you. But the mass of the aggregation will say, “We came here to hear a good sermon, not a lecture on anatomy.” And they will expect) a good sermon, too, and they will complain if they don’t get it. Preach without any reference to yourself or your physical condition. Y’ou can sometimes preach a headache away. If you can’t you will have to stand it. If you parade your distress before your congregation, yon only distress the people, worry and irritate and drive them away from you. They will even “wish to goodnes that man would either , get well or quit preaching.” All this has a heartless sound, I know, but I believe it to be true, and it isn’t altogether heartless. Y'ou must expect to preach sometimes when you would rather run away like Jonah, than go into tho pulpit. All men feel that way at times, and all men, from draymen to presidents, work when

they don’t feel like it.

Druggists’ Profits.

“I suppose you are tolerably familiar with druggists and the drug trade?” saida reporter to a “traveling man,” whose opportunities for going behind the returns are unexcelled. “ Well, rather,” answered the drummer. “I flatter myself that Ido know a thing or two about, the bnsiness.” ' “I wish yon would give hie —on the square, you know —an idea of the profits of a prescription druggist. ” “Well it’s hard to figure it out exactly or even to average it. You see, the time consumed in making up a prescription, the cost of the drugs, etc., vary greatly, -and iH'sides. druggists have different ways of charging for them; bnt I'll give ypu an actual occurrence and von may judge for yourself. I was selling some goods to a druggist, an old customer of our house, one day, iria town not a thousand miles from this city, when a man came iu for a pre.scription which he had previously ordered. 'How much is it ?’ he asked. ‘Sixty-five cents,’ answered the druggist. 'lsn’t that pretty steep ?’ asked tiie man. 'Oh, no; we couldn't afford to put it up for a cent less,' answered the druggist, with every appearance of frankness. After I had finished my bnsiness with the dVuggist, said I, ! smiling, ‘Say. Smith, just for fan, let's figure up what that fio-eent prescription cost you.’ ‘All right,’said he, smiling also. So we figured it up carefully, including every possible item —his time -..-$5-a of-the drugs, Ixittle. label cork, twine, wrapping paper, etc. Tpiie osculation was rather difficult at times, seeing that the labels cost but 25 cents per 1,000, the corks 24 eents.por gross, etc.; but we stuck to it, and the most we could make that Co-eent prescription cost was 6} cents. It happened to be one which requiredno mixing, and the component parts were cheap; but I guess it was a fair sample, all the same. Bt the way, did you ever notice that a druggist seldom charges 25, 50, or 75 cents for a prescription ? 'He charges 20 or 30. 45 or 55,70 or 80 cents. It looks as though he was charging upon a fixed scale, instead of guessing at it. with a liberal margin for profit, you see. It looks better, too, especially if the druggist stops and thinks a moment before announcing the price. Druggists size up their customers and charge accordingly, with an extra dime or quarter added if the customer is unfortunate enough to be a trifle green.” —Chicago Tribunt. -

War and Education Compared.

A Belgian statistician has published some interesting facts about the comparative sums paid by each citizen in the various countries of Europe for war purposes and few education. In England war taxes per capita amount to $4.45, educational to 75 cents; in France the respective amounts are $5.1? and 33 cents; in Frassia, $2.83 and 58 cents; in Bussia. $2.43 and 8 cents: in ltaly, $1.85 mid 1« cents; in Austria, $1.60 and 39 cento; in Switzerland, $1.16 and sl. Of aB these countries, the last is the only one that makes a decent comparative showing for the instruction of youth. The Russian figures are peculiarly significant.— Bosion Transcript - , - ’ ‘‘ : _ ■ ; Thebe have been no bears in Connecticut since 1844. Ctbavs eat snake meat for then htoodL ——-

iFrom Peck's Sun.! The “dude” is a thing of the past. It is a “cipher” now. Nature is kind'to her children, and generally provides for their needs. A soap mine has brien discovered in Dakota. They are vaccinating the Indians of Alaska. If vaccination will prevent Indians breaking out, let the doctors tackle the Apaches. Alt exchange says that “If Moses had been a Jersey man, it would be a very easy matter to tell where he was when the light went out. He would have been down in the cellar sampling applejack." Wouldn’t he have been in the dark when the light went ont ? has a girl lecturer, only 7 years of age. The New York Journal, after hearing of this prodigy, very feelingry remarks: “It wero better for the youth who will one day be her husband that a millstone were hung around his neck, and that he were cast into the sea.” Marysville, Cal., sends the startling intelligence abroad over "the country, “That boys of that place catch rats with a fish-hook and line.” That may be wonderful, but there are a hundred places in the county where boys with a fish-hook and line, not only catch a cold, but many times they catch a licking. California isn’t so much ahead in this fish-line business after all. The papers never cease to tell funny stories on the churches that secure musicians to entertain the congregation. The latest story comeafrom the east. A. Baptist "church secured a cornet player, and Hie minister told the man to play something appropriate while the baptismal service was being performed- Just as tho good man led a convert down into the water the cornet struck up the old tune, “Pull for the Shore.” The minister was so mad he was fairly wet. {From Texas Slftlues.] A horse-thief in jail is worth two in the brush. There is one cheering reflection connected with the subject of cremation. If it ever becomes general, callow i®ets will quit chanting their lays about the cold, cold grave. It would never do in the world s to put the telegraph wires under ground out in Wyoming. The citizens need them to string up their horse thieves and murderers on. “I am given to understand that Mr. Chas. A. Dana is considered quite a fluent Writer, ” observed ail Englisl 1 geritleman to an American tourist; “Aftlufluent writer! I should say he was. Worth over two million dollars aud sports a SIO,OOO coop of game cocks. Affluent writer j Well, I should say so.” A State University student was pensively leaning against the Court House, when one of his schoolmates came up and addressed him as “professor.” “O, please don’t do that again.” said Ibe [ first student imploringly. " Why not ?” i inquired the other with no srnail degree of surprise. “Why people will think I don’t know anything.” A man in Illinois was arrested and fined $25 for disturbing a ward meeting. We should like to know him. The man who has got the voice nnd i energy to disturb a ward meeting, provided the latter is healthy and active in ! its diabolical mission, is worthy of our acquaintance, and ought to be given a Government position as a fog-horn on a : stern and rock-bonnd coast. •Don’t yon feel the need of the pro- [ taction of the Lord?” inquired an itinerant elder of a boy lounging in front i of a dwelling adjacent to a hard-looking saloon. “Well, no,” answered theyouth, “we don't feel the need of liim much during the week, but we do shiver around , some Saturday nights when the cowboys : come into town and get drunk at the saloon. We kind o’ look toward the Lord at those times.” “What will we play now?" inquired a little Austin boy of ius companion, after they had exhausted all known* 1 remedies in the way of games. “Let’s play Legislature.” “How do you play it ?” “Why, call me.” , 3 J “Cali you! What shall I call you, Tommv V “N 6. no; you just call me and I'll show down.” “Show what down.” “O, pshaw! If yon don’t know how to play Legislature, how do yon expect to do anything toward governing the people when yon get to be a man ?"

R.J. Burdette.

A man was being 1 tried in an Arkansas court for some trivial offense. He did not understand an excessive amount of the American language, and when the Judge said. “You are the defendant in this case, I believe,” he retorted, “You can't come outside of this court and tell me that,” « In Mississippi a case was being tried before a colored Justice who had just been elected to that important position. and who knew much more about hoeing cotton than he did about law. The lawyer for the defense made a long-winded speech and concluded by saying, “These are the facts in the case and you may draw what inference you please from them-" The defendant ■ was acquitted, and as the court adjourned the Justice called the lawyer to him, i and said: “I doesn't know ranch "boat dese legal papers an’ I wish you’d draw up dat inference fur me.* —Carl PretseTs Weekly.

The Deafly American Humorist.

The victory was won, but General Wolfe lay dying an the Heights of Abraham Hearing the shouts of the soldiers, “They fly! they fly ? the . General stood on his elbow and anxiously asked, “Who fly IT “Moss • At,* replied the sergeant Mar by, and Wolfe, recognizing the forerunner of the American paragrapber, was glad to lie down and die before the batch of 18S3 came along. —Burlington Bknct- .«**• ' ' CBh«JB% Kxso.nf Quebec. Canada, is 103 years old, bat is shortening h» life by the use of tobacco. ■•'4 .■' *•- •’ * ' . . 1 '

PITH AND POINT.

Whitt Lies.