Rensselaer Republican, Volume 16, Number 30, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 3 April 1884 — Page 6

€M GOLXU TO TOW M TO LIVE. BY EU B CAKB. Ke* IM t—.l wi t -<mß ' b!'ls struck off; l‘m «roln'fc > hive a-n e ■ Juj’rftepoß? .>rmy crops it'\‘ mylive stock— Ev'ry biolicl, ho.of, head a <1 .All machinery. to> Is and the brom th* IteSfßet down to the H -v.-; I have qulta cloiiho pin’ aud drudgin'— I'm soln' to town to live. • n. I have bought out a stoic in E rekv. The n»w own on the rcllroad jwt west, Where th'y’re srectin' t > git the tnnch ne shops An'to W 1 this ow ’ dead ns the rest. The pear teller I b.iucht out la- been that Ever since 11re new railroad went, by; He’s cot rich but his health failed, hb told me, An* ho hai to quit b i or die. nt An' he showed me his books, how his trade run. An' hcrc-al t 11 my head 'sin to swim; Great lone <M>lnmtrs and columns of tiggars, With bigp otits each t'tne tor Idm. An’ he said that the clerks did the work np. That each dry he ‘ b-ssed" rOntr l a spell. Wi ll a we cl er eye onto the markets, So’s to knew how to In.y and sell. rr. Then he slid that he'dclpgiLajiLnt a flSKor Thatho vo wed was bnl: cos’ on the shelf; When I saw what a bargal a was in it I jest t*ok in the chance nryself, For lkno’d that I had the acquaintance, -- An' a purtv fair share of ch'ek, -s An' he 'lowed a peart feller like 1 was Could jeetlarn to storekeep 'n a week. ▼. So jest strike off the bills mister printer, Pnt inall 'copt the kids an - mam; I'm ghin’ to sc 1 off the old things An’ comeon’ like a can eased ham. Yes. of course I' 11 subscribe for your paper; Long enough I've been starved an'driv; I shall pht on some style in the future, I'm a goin' to town to live. ■ », [Scene Second.] MORTGAGING THE FARM. O VI. . : lam after a loan, Old Money Baes, An' this hyar is the reason why: I am rnnnin* a store at Eureka. An' the faim-rs who come thar to buy Havn’t got anything into market; So I trusted them all, you know, An' I've carried them 'leng with my cash Till I’va got fer as I can gq They're old friends I've kno’d for twenty years, An'l don't like to dun an' snt: . So I can't jest C dlect my money now. An’ Tve got some big bills that’s due. The accounts I have got that’s booked to date Is a snng little fortune, sure. An’ I'll give them to you as collateral, Fer to make what you loan secure. * 7 nil Went a wort gaee beside? Waal, I don’t care, For Til lift the note anyway, . Long afore that ole ninety days is up, Fer them farmers is gilt-edge pay. So now draw up a mortgage on 1 he farm; Then jest mssle your money ’ round; » When them eby nrguls gitafter me They'll find me ahead the hound. rx. Cost me twenty per cent! That’s mighty steep; But I’ll stand it ter ninety days. An' the feller I carry wiih this hyar loan, Will turn out as the man who pays. Fer I'll flgg-r it in the cost of goods, An’then add it to each amount, . An'each debtor will pay on this interest When he settles his own account, X. I’m doin' a rushin' biz down thar, Fer the folk- 1 lik“ my s'yle, you see; Call me Bnc e Cezard. >f I do keep store, 7 —Fer that's nothin' that's pn-nd ’bout me. Waal, in ninTy more days I'll be 'round again, 'Spect I'll take np ih< bote afore. I'm a cittin’ Gould-rich—ls you'r’ down our way Jest drop into my boomin’ si ore. SCENE THIIiD. —— XI . How d’ye do, Mr. Wayuq Yes. that’s my wife, Waal,’ you're right. I i>dirt feelin’ welt, Fer t he treubte that’s come fills my ole heart With a sickness my tongue can’t tell. I have had a full share of ups and doWs, But they come in mv younger days; I could laugh at ’em then: it's difl’rent now, When the cross enan ole man lays, XII. When I had a good farm an’ stock an' grain An' some money in bank beside, ' An’ my. word coed as'eash, an'out of debt, . W'hjkJ couldn’t be sa’isfied. XT Mary Ann WS the samo: she Towed she’ beta Of all company toys dcprlv. So we rented the farm and b >u rht a store, An’ We moved in:o town tdlive. xm. I was big enough fool to think I knew How to do what I’d never done; But inste’d ot me lunnin' the store, I found That, myself was the Teller run. Tom, Dick ’n Hany got goods—ole friends, you know— I was proud of my rnshln’ trade. Got my stock all inn down; couldn’t get acent, Au’ my bills for the goods unpaid. XIV. Mary An n an’ the gals all dressed in silks, Give big parties to keep np style; An’ 1 rnn ter an office to phase my friends, An’ got bear; but it cost a pile. So 1 mot ig iged the farm to t de along; Party soon down the Sheriff come With ole bills whl h he said I had assumed With the debts of him I bought from. xv lie had invoiced the goods, ole shelf-worn tfilrgs At far more than they cost him new; An’ then bad me boar d up to pay all debts. Which he swore was but-small an’ few. Waal, it cut my eve-teeth, I pledged the farm Fer mere money till 1’ collect. Some that owed took the law; dead-beats run bff. An' my sung little fortune’s wrecked. XVL Yes. it comes nurty hard in my ole age; But- I manage to tea- it writ Till ih-y took ev'rything lb ought to town, An' then said the old farm must sell Thar, now, Mary Ann. don’t you take on 80, We’ve learned what we can't 1 orgf t. That the farm would have alius stuck to ns If we had only s uck to it. :'aXVIL The old h-m? must be sold—Don't, Mary Ann, Mister Wayne, now it's in your bands, An’ 1 wta’t you to sell it the best yon can, Fer the Suite has no better lands. Great big oroha-ds—l pinked the trees myself— Bnnnin’ wa er and timber nicb; A fine hen»e whar mv children all was born— Don't, don't, wife—lt's no use to cry. Xv ill. I will pay all I owe. then take what's left. If 'he-debts leave anythmg. - An' I'll start in the winter of 11 'c just whar I heeun in irs earl v spring. I've b en mined by trustin’ them I thought fri>n s. But I'll try t > fergit on' ferglvc; Dry y ■ur tears, dear ole wife, we’ve learned the ccs? Of onr goin’ to town to live.

A FARMER'S WIFE.

A Story Which AU Girls Should Read. We know a refined, intelligent woman, says an Eastern paper, living among the green hills of Vermont, whose life is typical of hundreds in that vicinity, and scores ° scattered throughout the Far West. She arises at 5 o’clock in the morning, chops wood, draws water, makes fires; prepares the meals for five stalwart “hired men,” besides doing the family washing, ironing, scrubbing, churning, preserving. pickling, mending, and knitting. She l>eheads the chickens, feeds the hens and calves, and is occasionally called upon to accelerate the departure of pigs to that bourne from whence no pig ever returns. Her work is never done. She fries doughnuts at 10 o’clock at night, and begins life on pie the next morning. Her dissipations are prayermeeting, funerals, and huckleberrying, varied by winter kettledrums where the guests sew earpet-rags, refreshed with cider, forfeits and kisses. Her literature is limited to Bunvan's “Pil-

grim’s Progress,” “Josiah Alien’s Wife," and Zion’s Herald. Her ninsio to a fountain filled with blood, dismal sounds from tomb, and invitations to anxions-seats. Her pictures to a plunip prodigal son, a perpetual Samuel, a furious Cain, an amiable George Wash in xtb'n. Napoleon on his deatjibed at St. Helena, a weeping willow and widow in a graveyard of hair, and a few glistening tintypes of freshly engaged couples, who with hands clasped, iinir oiled, and imitation .watch-chains spread out to “show,” stare rigidly into a future the counterpart of her own. Her bric-a-brac consists of waxwork, daguerreotypes, plaster dogs with green noses, yellow baskets, and crushed straw berry tails, and a slu. 11-box containing reward-of-morit cr.rdk, the pathetic remembrances of her vanished childish years—the only visible recog* nition of her goodness that the poor little woman ever bad. Her drees is calico all the year round—for week days, and black alpaca for Sundays. Her windows are’oovefed with green paper shades, and the parlor floor with the envy and awe of the neighborhood, a tapestry carpet overflowing with rod and pink atrocities in yellow horns of plenty. She is a woman after the Rev. Morgan Hix's own heart. She stays at home. The glorious pictures of majestic mountains, the flashing cascades, the leafy splendor of blue skies, the soft white clouds, and sweetsmelling daisy-fields are not for her, except in tantalizing glimpses which only increase the thirst of her thirsting soul. She has no power to receive the sense of power and peace that comes from those stately mountains; no time to in the exquisite beauty of those water Wills; no time to lie on the grass and watch the softly-sailing clouds, or trace the truthful symbols and discover the wondrous revelations that Nature gives to those who love and understand her. Yet this woman’s husband has made a little fortune of $30,000 from lumber, which is considered something colossal in those region where wants are few and pleasures circumscribed. She has been brought up to believe that he was created a superior being. So has he. He is coarse, red-haired, freckled, pious, penurious, and asthmatic. He has had a change of heart and one change of “meetin’ clothes,” in which he looks more hideous than he does in his overalls. His chief satisfaction is to chew tobacco, talk in class-meeting, and to get a bargain. He never owes a jpenny and never gives one.He can pray, aiiiL he thinks he can sing. It takes him thirty minutes every night and fifteen minutes every morning to tell the Lord of several mistakes in the universe, and to ask a few mild favors. One is to wreak “etarnal” vengeance on the wicked by plunging them into everlasting lire; and another is a request for “power to wrastlo with the stranger ing her promptly-paid board bills, to bring her to a sense of her own vile nature and hardened heart;created bad in the first place, only to be purified and saved by the acceptance of this man's peculiar theological beliefs.- After, singing, exhorting, and wheezing, he takes to snoring with an equal spirit and energy that makes him audible all-through the night and the sinner within his gates to Icok for a new boarding-place next morning. It does not occur to him to use his money to make his wife and their lives happier; or thathe can afford to bring a couple of strong servants into the house to perform the menial work of himself and his hired man. He means well. This superior being does not knew any better; The circumstances of his narrow life and the inheritance of a narrow nature are accountable for his blind ignorance. One day his wife returned from the village, after selling 90 cents’ worth of eggs, produced by her own hens. She timidly asked if she could keep the proceeds. He generously handed her fifteen cents and pocketed the rest, with the grumble, “Wimmin folks is allers spendin’.” He did not realize the meanness of thp act, but when he saw it a line from Tennyson seemed to spring suddenly into the air and enwreathe him in living words that said “half his little soul is dirt.” But he does not know that, and never will —in this life. He cannot read the pitiful story stamped upon his wife’s care-worn face, with its habitual expression of unconscious self-abnegation and meek resignition. They never have any pleasant walks, talks, jokes, react any books, or have friendly companionship together. He never gives her ice-cream, anniversary presents, unexpected praise, flowers, or kisses. When she dies she my have a flower in her coffin, which will look strangely out of.place, as none ever came into her married life. Twice she made feeble attempts to bring some cheerfulness into their Lome. She worked her husband a pair of slippers for Christmas and placed a bunch of snow-drc.ps on the table at Easter. He gruffly told her to “take ’em away, and not inkeridge the scarlet woman by br'ngin’ sich popish notions into the house.” The country fences,. barns, taverns, rocks, and landscape were once ablaze with flaming posters announcing the coming of a traveling circus and menagerie She gazed on those pictured wonders; on the monkey parodies, pathetic camels, retmlsive serpents, leaping tigers,, flying figures, complacent fat woman, bushy-haired frauds, dissatisfied Albinos, pompous dwarfs, sunshiny giants, • the sacred cow of Burmah. and the Behemoth o? Scripture. Her very soul ached with an intense longing to behold these Oriental animals from far-away tropical countries, from ‘‘Africa's burning sand,” of which she had read in the Bible and in “Little Henry and His Bearer.” Was it possible that those huge, ungainly elephants could stand on their heads, planks, and barrels, play tunes on handorgans, and do other undreamed-of things, perfectly unnatural and unpleasant to an elephant? Was it true that horses Walteed an I dbgs hung each Other? That a woman could be shot from a cannon; and a ta’ooed man walk shivmngly about clad only in his cashmere skin, and gauzy beings riy through hoops of fire over the backs of horses that had to make up their minds to

stand it? It was wonderful, a iairy tale, a myth, perhaps. Everything was reversed, tl e toes of the riders, the clowns in the ring, the ideas and trunks of the elephants. Seein r was believing, aijd she wanted, oh, how she wanted to gq 1 It would be thejpne great j deasn re, the one great epoch of her dreary life. Only.those who have been forced to remain in Urn unvarying routine of bard work, care, and unending monotony, can appreciate the hapniness it would be, could this down-t; odden little Yankee woman go to the circus. She road on the briiliant poxiern that “people, press, and pulpit commended this great moral show, unparalleled in grandure and ningnificome, and that, nothing was said, seen, or dene that eotthb-offend." the most moral and fastidious person.” To be sure the .'Zioyi’.s Herald ha 1 not advertised it, and she bad not yet heard it indor- ed by their own minister from his pulpit. But one minister diffi'rcthfrom anotlicT minißter in"opinions, and. even if oho -aUendel the -circus, surely she could. She had llp“mbney, and.was afraid to a>k tor angy. or in broach the siibject to her husband, fearing his opposition. She remained awake at night, wondering if she was a wicked, designing woman for not mentioning her desire, and where she could obtain means to accomplish it. This was the first time she ever plotted. The first time she ever dared to strike out for herself. It showed how keen was the yearning for a little brightness to come into her cold and cheerless life. She knew it was useless to ask for any of the egg, bntter, cheese, or milk money that she had earned. She arose two hours earlier the next morning, did much of the housework, and while her husband was drinking molasses and -on a pretext and winged feet; and, under the burning August sun, with hands trembling and heart beating with hope and excitement, she picked five quarts of berries that Were sold at the hotel m 1 S . The next day with the coveted money held tightly in her ungloved hand, she hurriedly clinrbed into the wagon of a neighbor who had called by request t.o cariw her with his wife and children to the circus, and joyful at the unusual holiday. How her heart beat, how her limbs shook ! Once off and out of view of the haytield, she would breathe freer. One taste of pleasure, and it was hers forever, no matter what happened afterward. They turned the corner and a man appeared on the dusty road. It was her sent there by one of those malicious chances that someiimes “thwarb tire wills of men” and of women. He stopped them. Explanations followed. “It is my money. I didn't take it from the house; I earned it yesterday,” she —faltered, holding up her toil-worn, thornscratched hands. It was her only appeal, and it fell mute upon her quivering.lips as he sternly ordered her “get down.” She ought not to have got down, and we are sorry to say that she did.—But she is meek and good; and she “obeyed,” with her eyes and heart full of tears. He walked unrelentingly by her side to the house. He took her hardly won bitsof silver. He said they should go into the contribution-box next Sunday to atone for the heinous sin she had committed in wishing to enter unholy pl aces. He entered the closed sanctuary of his parlor. He removed the tobacco quid from his mouth and., placed it upon the mantle. Then he prayed. Kneeling in the center of the floor, on the biggest, yellowest, most unfaded “horn of plenty” that besprinkled the carpet, he asked the Lord, in nasal,tones, to chasten the worldly spirit of his wife, to withhold her from the snares of temptation, baited by the devil, and to keep her from the flesh-pots of Egypt and Vermont. She never complains. She suffers vaguely, not fully comprehending the servile position she holds in her husband’s house. We are glad she does not. In her case it would make no difference if she did understand it. This is only one woman left out of thousands, under varying conditions and circumstances, to be sure, but true just the same. Yet there are unthinking men and woman who say that “justice and equality are not good for women; they have all the privileges that are necessary.”

The Gospel of Evolution.

1. There never was a beginning. The eternal without us that maketh for righteousness took no notice whatever of anything. 2. And Cosmos was homogeweous and undifferentiated, and somehow or other evolution began, and molecules appeared. * - 3. And molecule developed protoplasm, and rythmic thrills arose, and then there was light. • i f < - 4. And a spirit of energy was developed and formed a plastic cell, whence arose the primordial germ. 5. And the<primordial germ became protegene, and protogene somehow shaped eocene—then was the dawn of life, 6. And the herb yielded seed, and the fruit tree yielded fruit after its own kind, whose seed is in iiself, develo;>ed according to its own fancy. And the eternal without us that maketh for righteousness neither knew nor cared anything about it. ' 7, The cattle after his kind, the beasts of the earth after his kind, and every creeping thing became involved by heterogeneous segregation and concomitant dissipation of motive. 8. So that by survival of the fittest there evolved the simiads from the jelly-fish, and the simiads differentiated themselves into the anthropomorphic primordial types. 9. And in due time one lost His tail and became a man, a: d behold, he was the most cunning of all the animals, audio! the fast men killed the slow men, and it was ordained to be so in every age. 10. And in process of time, by natural selection and survival of the fittest Matthew Arnold, Herbert Spencer and Charles Darwin appeared, and behold, it was very good. The >e’flsh Way of looking at 7 kings.' “Yes." said Mrs. Egomoi,! “I used to think a great deal of Mrs. Goode, she was always so kind to me, but then, I’ve found out that she treats everybody just the same."

A LITTLE PARADISE.

The Inland Where Itoblnsnn Crusoe Was Monarch of All He Surveyed. 225prre spondepce Rochester(Democrat. The sun was bathing! the beautiful Island with a flood of golcjen light as we neared its picturesque harbor. In . lilt's boats we went ashore and landed in a primitive manner of running the boat aground and pulling it up on the shore. It was difficult to realize that we wore, indeed, • on this historical mysterious Island that imagination had pictured froni-childhood’s early hours 4n so many fanciful -forms The booKs tell you, that it was on this lovely Island that, in 1704, the celebrated English navigator,-- Dampier, landed his boat - swain, . Alexander Selkirk, with whom he had quarreled, and left him alone on this uninhabited spot with a sniaT -quanrity of provisi:'i:S and tools. 11 ere he lived four years, till he was picked up by a passing ship and brought back to Europe. If, was from the JX)tes_hg ma ic dufing Tins s7bl7tary resi/lc)ice that Daniel Defoe composed his incomparq,ble work’of “Robinson Crusoe.” No book doubtless ever held the childish interest with a greater faeination than that which describes liis wanderings on this mysterious and enchant rd Isladd. That which bad always seemed but a dreamy romance was now before you. The scenbs where all the wild and wondrous experiences were described are justi at hand, and, you wander on, as it were, but just aroused from a fanciful dream. Perchance it was on this sandy beach among which’ you wander that Crusoe first discovered the footprints of his good man Friday. The Island is about seven Spanish leagues in circumference, or a tritie over twenty English miles. It belongs to Chili, and for a number of years the Goyernment used it as a place for transporting convicts, till one night all the prisoners rose in their power, killed their keepers, ami, taking the only boats on the Island, sailed away, and were never heard of more. Of late years the G overnment has leased the Island to one man, who pays something like £2,000 a year for its use. This man has a small colony of workmen, drying fish and goatskins, and sending them every few months in large quantities to the market in Valparaiso. There are to be found iu the waters about the Island lobsters of a peculiar kind and enormous in size. Some of these measure from two to four feet in length. Every variety of fish in abundance seem to swarm about this lone Island. It is a great resort for whalers, who put in here for a few days to supply themselves with fresh water and with fish, poultry and game, which they obtain at marvelously low prices from the sovereign ruler of the Island. Many years ago two lone, lorn goats were brought to the Island, and their families .and children have increased so rapidly that so day thousands and tens of thousands of these now are to be found in every part of the Island. Large mnnbe.ES of them are shot each year, and their dried Skins, sold in Valparaiso, are a source of large income to the lessee of the land. _p p It was necessary to live on board the ship", but each day there were excursions to distant parts, where new beauties, new surprises and new wonders revealed themselves. The whole Island is fertile, with wooded hills and valleys, wherein are springs of pure and living water. One day, I remember well, when the sun had all its dampers open end was pouring out a furious heat, so intense that our collars had lost all their dignity, and the ladies bangs looked as straight as an Ind an maiden’s tawny locks, we came within a wooded glen where suddenly a spring of living water burst from out the mossy rock. It was pure, clear as crystal, and of icy coldness. I think I never knew water of so fina a brand, It was more refreshing than the clioicest wine. There are no roads, no paths; but you pick your way along by nature's course. Now you turn sharply, and you find yourself again within a deep glen, where it would be no surprise to see nymph or giant issue forth. Here a stately tree filled with ripening fruit spreads its good branches over the smaller trees, and close beneath it ferns of wonderful beauty spring up; for where the land is musical with running streams, and great trees fling their shadows and hang darkly over the brooks whose sparkling waters give birth to soft vapors, these .ferns lore, to spring forth—perehance„,to .doubly re--fleet their beauty in some mirroring pool. It was a pretty spot, which sets you thinking of Childe Harold's temple on the bank of Clitinnus—“A mirror and bath for beauty’s youngest daughter."

They Counted Ahead.

“My dear,” said Mrs. Spoopendyke, who had for some time been intently studying a slip of paper she h«ld in both hands. “My. Dear, what do you suppose this is about ?" “Let me see,” demanded Mr. Spoopendyke, snatching at the paper. “Why, it’s a lottery ticket Where’d you acquire possession of this monument to wealth ?” “I found it,” fluttered Mrs. Spoopendyke, making a dive for it, as though the explanation of what it was made the slightest difference in its contents. “Is it really a lottery ticket? How much do we Win. “Well, if it draws a prize, and the expenses of collection don’t eat up the amount and the lottery pays up, we won’t be much out of pocket,’’returned Mr. Spoopendyke, examining the ticket again. “And I’ll have my sealskin dolman, after all!” squealed Mrs. Spoopendyke, clapping her hands and peering over her husband’s shoulder at the mysterious document. “I wish they’d hurry up and send the money. When do you Blink they’ll send it, dear ?” “P’raps it’s on the way now!” muttered Mr. Spoopendvke. “0f cenrse, the lottery folks know you found it, and they’ll break their necks to pay up before the owner can make any trouble. Have you ordered anything else besides the dolman on the strength of this find? Been making any other purchases of a similar character. “No,” cooed Mrs. Spoopendyke. “And .vou shall have ft What wqpld you like, dear? We’ll bay what you want

and if there’s anything left, we’ll think about the dohnan ” “Doni think there’ll be much left,” grunted Mr. Spoopendyke. “It didn’t occur to you that we could put this money in thq bunk, or I could use it in my Tbuefeess, did it? Never suggested itself to you that we could lay it away, or speculate in stock and double it, or. buy a horse we could both on joy, did itffti All ydff«; thought of was the dolman* and you want me to advance the money for that?” “L didn’t. know,” ” murmered Mrs. Spoopendyke, rather crestfallen. “I thought maybe there would be.enough for us both, and if there was I’d like to get the { sack. Say, dear, how much would the stocks cost?” “Depends on how much you- paid for them," lucidly exclaimed Mr. Spoopendyke. “They'll cost a. good deal more than the sealskin will. What’s the matter with you'? As soon as you get a few dollars you want to throw itawav .on.elathes-I—iLavenrL-yen any-notion of saving? Think you’d excite any more respect among "the other inmates by clawing around the poor house in a sealskin coat ? S’pose I’m going to sit around here like the label on a bottle and have the neighbors fetch in cold' pie, while you roam around after washing in a sealskin dolman? I tell you, this mouey’s-going where it’ll do some good! Hear me ? I'm -going to build a barn and buy a horse. ’’ : “ Won’t that be nice!” exclaimed Mrs.' Soopendyke, her face illuminated with smiles. “And at one end of the barn we’ll have a piggery, and at the other end we’ll have a hennery! Oh ” “We won’t! ’ snorted Mr. Spoopendyke. ‘‘Think I’m going to have a lot of measly hens scratching with one leg and crowing at night witli tho other ? Got a notion that I’m going to put money into a pack of pigs that’ll squeal wlffeir you let up long enough to give ’em a chance?” “But the pigs are so sweet,” pleaded Mrs. Spoopendvke. “And I dote on; hen.” 2 ■ ■ .. • “Well, you do the doting and I’ll take care of the funds!” retorted Mr. Spoopendykd. “I s’pose I’ve got to buy a corner lot so as to give the barn a fronting on the street.” “And I’ll train some vines over the door,”*Baid Mrs. Spoopendyke. “With vines around the door and climbing beans over the windows we could make it look ” “Think I’m going to put half .this money into hiring somebody to find out what you’re talking about, don’t you?” roared Mr. Spoopendyke. “Know what a barn is ? Think it’s some kind of a nuisance, with shelves in front for pots', and a broken leg behind ? Well, it ain’t,, and it ain’t going to have any beans fooling round it l The first bean I findclimbing over the window of that barn, will get the chief part of its trousers loaded with shot;" “I thought it would look -pretty,” sighed Mrs. Spoopendyke. ~ “That’s, if,” yawped Mr. Spoopendyke. “Yoir’ve been thiiridog again E With your disposition to throw everything into the form of thought you only want...a stick of gum to be a female boarding-school! Don’t you interfere in this business any more till I call you oat to look at the horse! Understand me ?” “Yes, dear,"' replied Mrs. Spoopendyke, leaning on his shoulder and looking closely at the ticket. “What do you suppose that ‘June, .I'BBl,’ is on there for ?” Mr. Spoopendyke glared at the slip, tore it into a thousand pieces, scattered them over the floor and danced on them. “What’s it for ?” he yelled. “It’s to put arms and a tail to afod be borne around by an eighteen karat idiot as a sealskin dolman. Where’d ye get it? How many suits of my clothes did ye trade off for this measly ticket, three years old? AVliat museum did ye start them climbing into, with these miraculous financial results ?" “Never mind, dear," sfod Mrs. Spoopendyke, soothingly. “I’m sorry you’re disappointed about your barn, but I’ll give up the sealskin sacque.” Mr. Spoopendyke bent on her one long, lingering look and then climbed into bed. s r , k “I don’t care," murmured Mrs. Spoopendyke, as she rolled up her frizzes and plastered them with quince seed. “I don’t care. The horse would have run away with him and broke his neck, and if it d«iki'it,-we-might not have-drawn' anything. At all events, he won’t have to go to the expense of buying that corner lot, anil that’s a saving." And with this economical reflection, Mrs. Spoopendyke measured her husband’s sealskin cap to see if it contained enough material for a collar and a pair of cuffs, and finding that it did she sai& into a peaceful and refreshing slumber. —Brooklyn Eagle.

Another Use Fer Glycerine.

Dr. Soper in .the Lancet, recommends the* use of a mixture of equal carts of glycerine and castor oil, slightly flavored with oil of almonds or lemon, as an agreeable substitute for castor oil He states that of this mixture a teaspoonful is an effective dose, and in cases of chronic constipation, hemmorrhoids and anatmia. It has proved most useful. Half-teaspoonful doses have also been found useful in the early stages of bronchitis, in which it seems to promote exudation from the bronchiat tubes and Ts certainly expectorant. By first pouring the glycerine into a mortar, and adding the castor oil very gradually, triturating thoroughly meanwhile, a perfectly homogeneous jellylike emulsion is the result.

Car-Conductor Attachments.

Brooklyn car conductors are now obliged to wear watches set into the fare-recording apparatus swung from their necks. The faces of these are big and plain, covered only with thick glass. By these the passengers can tell the time readily. The conductors complain that sometimes passengers catch hold of and turn them around, like as if they were wooden men, in order to see what time it is. Thev also begin to think that the public will not consider a man fit to rnn a car -Trtiless he has* got a calendar stitched on the l>ack of his hgt, a thermometer hanging from one buttonhole, and a city directory booked, to a strap around his wrist . ; t • . -

PITH AND POINT.

The scientists assert that there w “starch in the blcol.” This accounts for th<' way some people are “stuck up. C'arl Pretzel’s Weekly. [ MY lady's evn- are bnprbt. Litre s'ars of Win'er’s night, stiine a, dark cloud nhdsr; she'd maki one's heart rejjl.-e. Had she not sneb a voice—- " ' It s .vundi l.ke distant thunden —Chicago Sun. A man can live in Chicago for from $1 to $1.50 A certain lowa editor, who visited th nt'pony edition of Sodom andi Gomorrah with the latter amount, only lasted one day.— Texas Siftings. V_yfo,rsAiD a man who applied for a pension, “I must aclinowledge that I was never in the army, but I dn.ee fell off' a post-and-rail fence and broke my lee; while watching a military company drill,—Middietown Trqnjscript, “Where had I best openn*.y course of lee tures?”askedayoufof ffTpropountier of Logic of aveterean in the profession. “I expect the deaf and dumb asylum would be the most appreciative place.” was the reply.— Newman Independent. The man who in 4 steady way His cou-se through lit; has threaded Is, in the language of the day, Extremely ‘'level-h-aded.'' In taking terms like this on trust One can’t be too p Tl icuiar, The ma-i whose head is level must Be off his perpendicular. —Somerville Journal. Things are not fairly and equitably divided in this sad and sin-stained world. Some men haven’t hair enough on their heads to make a baby’s eyebrow, while some butter looks like it was the boss of a wig factory.—Newman Independent. on de tariff?” “I doesn’t know, MrFranklin, es I stan’s on de t ariff at all or not. I kinder feel like de tariff was standin’ on me, fur I allurs notice dut when I goes to de grocery ter buy sumthin’ to eat, dey put de tariff on me jist as much as if I doan was no ministah.” = A lady writes to know what is the best way to preserve a piano. The best way to preserve the piano is to cut it in quarters, take out the core, and boil the pieces until they are about half done. Then make a syrup of sugar and »our it ovex-the pieces after which they can be put up in cans or jars. Bianos preserved this way will keep all winter. — Peck’s Sun. A nAKESIDE KUSING. — To an e litoi- -o hoary ~C'am n ayonth i>i: Autumn's glory, Bearing in his band a story That of love's sw< tt tale did tellSof’lv laid it. on the table ■Where the hand-made joke so able, . Crop reports and news f rom s.ahis All’in peacefulness did dwell. “I would like a situation, Rumi L inmwpi cs-:>t station; T’rotie 10 Fam -'k abbreviation Is my life’s reinorseltss tush. Fo-, from eight o'clock ti I s ven Lf-WLth' 1:11.hour f r. lunch at<yeven>—E eu denied he light of Heaven — -lh?x?s mark I wi>!i a brush. “I worlff fain attain poss’tion Among those whose sole ambition Is to better th? condition Ot our If erafv Ij,'e. When my gold ;u locks are whited. When Deat h’s touch my ii e has blighted Ami my soul above has kite I. _Let me haye Fame tor my wife.” “I have listened to you s ory,*’ Said th- editor so hoarv; ‘ And can see tlia' for the gio y Of a ' roud name you wi 1 woik. Rut i‘. seems to niconceding ! That your most extensive reading Un the high s Olympian speeding Surely 'll send you with a jerk— Tliar, when once you’ve re c 1 ed the summit Gr- bb-d misfortune, and o'eris-m ■ it, You w.ll softly murmur: “Bum it! 1 was happier as a clerk! ’’ “Forthe enp of fame is S >on the rosy che k grows sull iw, And the youth tb-t once was callow In a year becomes imfait. Sawdust tills each pret'y dollie, After pie comes melancholy, Grave tlie man erstwhile -o j I'.y—>Just because he's now 'blase,” Down the stairs the author g-eth, And I.ls 'ace deject! m showeth. Through the crowded street he jnoweth For hims’lf a path full wld“. Takes the brush ahd pot cerulean And with strength that is herculean JVarks the boxes: "Pints. St Julien— Glass, with care, keep up this side.*' Chicago Tribune.

Saved by a Cricket.

Mr. Southey, in his History of Brazil thus describes the perilous situation, of Cabeza de Vaca, who, sailing towards Brazil, is preserved from shipwreclpby a grillo, or ground cricket:—“When they had crossed the lino, the state of the water was inquired into; and it was found that of a hundred casks there remained but three to supply four hundred men and thirty horses ; upon this ths Adelantado gave orders to make the ’Trfaf'SstTabd'. " Three davs they stoocl towards it. A soldier, who had set out in ill health, had brought a grillo, or ground Cricket, with him frdm Cadiz, thinking to be amused by the insect’s voice; but it had been silent the hole — way, to his no little disappointment. Now on the fourth morning the grillo began to sing its shrill rattle, scenting, as was immediately supposed, the land. Such was the miserable watch which had been kept, that upon locking out at this warning they perceived high rocks within bow shot; against which, had it not been for the insect, they must have inevitably been lost They had just time to drop anchor. From hence they coasted along, the grillo singing every night as if it had been on shore, till they reached the island of S. Catalina.

Musical Item.

“Miss Esmerelda Longcoffin is a most beautiful young lady. I wonder why she hasn’t got married long ago?” “There is nothing strange about that. Slie don't know how to play on the piano.” “Well, there are plenty women who cun't play on the piano. That she can’t play on the piano Is no drawback." “Yes, but my dear, sir. you don’t piite understand &e. Although she uin’t pkiy on the piano, she is everlastingly trying to. That's what scares the young men off. It’s worse than listening to a man sawing wood.— Texas Siftings, “Let us play we are married, said little Edith, “and I will bring my doily and say, ‘See baby, papa.’ " “Yes,” replied Johnny, “ajad I will sav, ‘Don’t bother me now; I want to look through flie paper.’” Yocng Lady (who is writing a note for the housemaid)—“ls there anything more you wish to soyj Mary ?” “No, rn.inii, except just say, ‘Please excuse oad writin’and spellin’.”