Rensselaer Republican, Volume 18, Number 11, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 19 November 1885 — Page 6

■ ■ ■ ■ . vr* CONTENTMENT. We war gtttin' on tol’abl# well— Matildy, the children, an’ melt w.e didn't cut much of a swell. We war snug as we wanted to be. Thar war plenty to do in them times, An', a’though 'twa'n't so very big pay, We managed, to eave a few dimes On our aollar'n a quarter a day. But there came a rich banker along. An’ he built a house over the way. -7 Then ev'rything seemed to go wrong f With Matildy an' me f’m that day— -J Our cottage got dreadfully small, r An’ we wanted, as never before, A porch, an’ bay-window, an' hall, An' cur name on a plate on the door. Now, I never was much on advice. But there's one thing I reckon I know; When a man’s got enough to suffice, He'd better just keep along so. An’ mind his own business alone, An’ not give his jealously vent, For the best thing a poor man can own Is a stock of good-natured content. —Chicago News. IF I WERE YOU. Why did he look so grave ? she asked. What might the trouble be? “My little main," he sighing said, “Suppose that you were me, *. And you a weighty secret ownejd. Pray tell me what you’d do?" “1 think I'd tell it somebody," Said she, “if I were you 1" But still he sighed and looked askance, Despite her sympathy. “Oh, tell me, little maid," he said Again, “if you were me. And if you loved a pretty lass, Ob, then, what would you do?" “I think I’d go and tell her so," She said, “if 1 were you!” “My little maid, 'tis you," he said, “Alone are dear to me.” Ab, then, she turned away her head, And ne’er a word said she. But when he whispered in her ear, And what she answered, too—--0 no, I cannot tell you this; I’d guess, if I were youl Chambers’ Journal.

THE LOST LETTER.

BY ERNEST TRAVIS.

A beautiful afternoon in a great city, the month, August, the scenes, an extensive clothing establishment, where the constant clicking of sewing machines, the low hum of the operatives engaged in desultory conversation, and the rattling of the vehicles on the streets without, made life, temporarily, a babble of strange noises. Of all the pretty girls in the establish* ment, there was one who, as she bent over ths? cutting table, busily engaged in sorting out some heavy work for the corps of tailors in the room below, smiled quietly, and, humming a low tune to herself, seemed, at heart, in perfect harmony with the blue, spotless sky, and the fresh, balmy air of the beautiful summer afternoon. She hadreason io be happy, too, for there is no period in a young girl’s life so delightful as when a first love is reciprocated, and its object is tendered a proposal of marriage by the hapy suitor. Such a proposition had Jennie Arlington, the pretty sewing girl, received, and the unique manner of her reply had been the cause of much secret enjoyment on her part. It seems that on the floor below, Edward

Barnes, a quiet, unassuming young fellow, but devotedly in love with pretty Jenny, had charge of the department. All the materials cut at Jennie’s table were here made up, first passing through Jennie’s hands. He had written het- a letter that morning in which he told hei; how earnestly he loved her, and asking her to reply that day to his proposal of marriage. Her heart beat with Joy as, at the noon hour, she indited him a brief, modest note, asking him to call upon her at her'home that night, and intimating that his attentions were not regarded in an unfavorable light. Her timid, shrinking nature* prevented her from making any one sufficient of a confidant tp take the note to Edward, but the happy thought coming into her mind that if she sent it down with the batch of garments she was cutting, he would be sure to receive it, as all such came directly under his supervision before being apportioned out to the operatives. With a happy smile she laid the little missive between the folds of material, and as the boy carried down the parcel, thought blissfully of her new-found joy and happiness, It was with a light step that she tripped down the stairway when the day’s work was over and hastened home to arrange her hair and dress herself to look her best upon the expected visit of her betrothed that evening. Her heart fell and a cruel surprise paled her flushed face and dimmed the happy lustre of her eyes as hour after hour went by and Edward Barnes did not come. The tears came bitter and fast as she began to believe that his proposal was a farce and that she had been made the object of a cruel deception.

Her suspicions were confirmed whjn she came down to the store in the morning. Instead of his usual smiling welcome, Edward bowed with cold reserve to her, and, although she fancied she detected a sad reproach in his eyes, she did not break the silence his manner enforced. So, as the days went by, these two hearts drifted farther and farther apart. Jennie’s rosy cheeks grew pale and her bright eyes dimmed, and Edward Bames from a lighthearted youth developed into a sad, thoughtful man. Alas! what bitterness and woe that single word of explanation, unspoken by either proud suffering spirit, might have saved. But how could Jennie Arlington have surmised that her tender love missive never reached its intended destination? Instead it had met a strange and unusual fate. Edward Barnes was absent on a mission for the establishment when the parcel of clothing sent down containing the note had been brought to his desk by the boy, and the work had been apportioned out by one of the operaatives who carelessly handed out the material Amid the quick manipulation of the garments by deft fingers the little note lying between the folds of lining had lain in its snug covering and had been sewed inside the garments by the unconscious operative. The goods made were part of a large orders for a country clothing house, and the garment containing the note was a portion of the order. So it went upon its way leaving two , severed hearts, pining in dispair, victims of a sad mistake. But the end was not yet.

The scene changes to a country clothing store two months after the occurrence of the events just detailed. The store referred to was well crowded upon the afternoon in question, when Mr. Edward Spriggins, a well-to-do citizen, entered for the purpose of selecting a suit of clothes. “I would like to look at some clothes, said Mr. Spriggins to a clefk as soon as he was disengaged. , “Yes, sir. We have a new stock to select from, made especially for our trade,” and Mr. Spriggins was soon deeply immersed In looking over an assortment of ready* made clothing. “It fits me exactly,” he murmured in a tone of satisfaction, as, having selected and donned a suit of clothes, he viewed himself before the mirror., He paid the bill with a broad smile upon hie face which a delighted man always exhibits When fie is well pleased, and walked home briskly, bent upon astonishing Mrs.

Spriggins with a view of his hew suit and its fine adaptability in color, material, and artistic make to his manly form. Alas! amid the rapt of his wife and his own self-admiration, ho little realized what an interesting history that suit of Clothes was destined to develop. The Storm broke about one month later. For soxne time past, he had noted a strange reserve on the part of Mrs. Spriggins, but little imagined that the lovable little Woman was jealous. All Unaware of the fact that a gossipy neighbor, an old maid named Miss Smithers, had exaggerated his accidental meeting on the street with an old lady school-mate into a positive love scene, he went into the sitting-room one day after dinner to get his coat which he had given to Mrs. Spriggins to remove a grease spot he hrd accidentally got upon it. He started back as he entered the apartment in dumbfounded amazement, as his wife, the coat in one hand a letter in the other gazed at him wildly and bursting into tears cried hysterically: “Oh, you base deceiver —I have found you out at last, and Miss Sun-—Sun-Smithers was ri—right!” “Is she mad—is she crazy!” cried the mystified husband in mingled alarm and surprise. “Mad —crazy!” sobbed Mrs. Spriggins, “no only broken-hearted. To think after ten years of married life that it should come to this.”

“This,” seemed to be the coat which she thrust towards the stupefied Spriggins who glanced perplexedly at a long rip in the inside linning of the garment. “I knew there was somethingwrongwhen I felt that letter in the coat," continued the weeping wife. “Mrs. Spriggins,” said the mystified husband, beginning to grow mad. “If you’ll explain this abused nonsense I’ll be obliged to you.” “Nonsense!” screamed Mrs. Spriggins, hysterically. “He calls it nonsense to deceive his true and faithful wife, and receive letters from other women. Read that, sir, and then keep up this deception if you can.” She thrust the letter before his eyes as she spoke. His wondering glance fell upon the innocent missive, startled and surprised. “Dear Edward, "‘ the note ran. “If you will call at my house this evening I wil give you an answer to your declaration.” Mr. Spriggins face wore an expression of utter perplexity as he finished reading the note.

“Well?” he said, simply. “Well!” shrieked Mrs. Spriggins. “Oh, hear the wretch and see how cool he takes discovery of his perfidy. ” ’ “Mrs. Spriggins,” he said sternly, “if you can stop your raving long enough to explain what this note means, I will be obliged to you.” , “What does it mean? It means that I found it in the lining of your coat. You play your part well, sir, as if you didn’t know who ‘Jennie’ was.” “It’s a base plot!” cried Spriggins, excitedly, “I swear I never saw this note before.” “Oh, lof course not,” replied Mrs. Spriggins, scornfully. “It's an advertisement of the firm, a price ticket, I suppose. You are very innocent, indeed.” And expostulation and explanation only ended in more complication, and Mrs Spriggins growing more hysterical, Mr. Spriggins becoming indignantly enraged. “I’ll trace this up,” he cried. “I’ll seek out the vile calumniator and plotter against my domestic peace,” and seizing letter and coat he dashed from the house. He had no definite course of action in mind, but his thoughts at once accredited all his troubles to the suit of clothes. -There was nodoubt but that the letter had been in the coat when he bought it, for outside of removing it at night, it had not been off his back. He never stopped until he had reached the establishment where he had purchased the garment. With rapid incoherency Mr. Spriggins detailed the story of the letter to the proprietor. “And you are positive that this letter could not have been placed in your coat since you bought that garment of us?” he asked, incredulously. “I am,” firmly responded Mr. Spriggins. “Then we must trace up the suit. Let me see; it was one of a lot ordered by us. I will write to our manufacturers and see what they can make of it.” He did so. A week later the heart of Mr. Spriggins was made, happy by the true solution of the mystery of the letter. It had been sent to the firm and inquiry explained the entire matter. Mrs. Spriggins’ jealousy vanished, and two hearts were made happy, for Jennie Arlington and Edward were reunited and a month later were married. A suit of clotnes has made. many a man comfortable and joyous, but none ever did so fortunate a double service as the suit purchased by Mr. Edward Spriggins.

How Southern Women Ride.

' In this country the Southerner is the most constantly in the saddle, and a good rider in the sunny south is a thoroughly good rider. But I have often wondered at the number of poor ones it is possible to find in localities where everybody moves about in the saddle. Many men there, who ride all the time, seem to have acquired the trick of breaking every commandment in the decalogue of equitation. Using' horses as mere means of transportation, seems sometime to reduce the steed to a simple beast of burden, and eques-i trianism to the bald ability to sit. in a saddle as you would in an ox-cart I think I have seen more graceful equestriennes in the South than any-' where else—than even in England. Although the Southern woman refuses, to ride the trot, she has a proper substitute for it, and her seat is generally admirable. Though I greatly admire a square trot well ridden in a side-saddle, it is really the rise on this gait which makes so many crooked female riders among ourselves and our British cousins. This ought not to be so; but ladies are apt to resent too much severity in instruction, and without strict obedience to her master a lady never learns to ride gracefully and stoutly. In the South ladies ride habitually, and, moreover, a rack, sin-gle-fo.oh and. canter are not only graceful, but straight-sitting.paces for a w°* man.— Patroclus and Penelope.

One Good Dinner Anyway.

A South Second street mother took her little boy with her when she went on a day's visit to a lady friend. At dinner, Jimmy passed his plate for the third time, and his mother severely remarked: “Now, see here, Jimmy, I cannot allow you to gorge yourself in this way. Mercy on ns, Mrs. M will thin k you a perfect pig. -VTou never eat this way at home.” “Good reason why.” “What do you mean, sir ?” “Don’t never have any dinners like this ’ore our house.”— Brooklyn Times. ’ ~f ' ;

MONKEYING WITH THE MAZY.

BY BILL NYE.

Very soon now I shall be strong enough on my cyclonic leg to resume my lessons in waltzing. It is needless to say that I look forward to the great pleasure of that moment. Nature intended that I should glide in the mazy. Tall, lithe, baldheaded, genial, limber in the extreme, suave, soulful, frolicsome at times, yet dignified and reserved toward strangers, light on foot —on my own foot, I mean—gentle as a woman at times, yet irresistible as a tornado when insulted .by a smaller, lam perfectly fitted to shine in society. Those who have observed my polished brow under a strong electric light say that they never saw a man shine so in society as I do. I had just learned how to reel around a ball-room to a little waltz-music when I was blown across' the State of Mississippi in September last, by a high wind, and broke one of my legs which I use in waltzing. When this accident happened I had where I felt at liberty to choose a glorious being with starry eyes, apd fluffy hair, and magnificently moulded form to steer me around the rink to the dreamy music of Strauss. One young lady with whom I had waltzed a good deal, when she heard tliat my leg was broken, began to attend every dancing party she could hear of, although she had declined a great many previous to that I asked her how she could be so giddy and so gay while I was She said she was doing it to drown her sorrow, but her little brother told me on the quiet that she was dancing while I was sick because she felt perfectly safe. My wife taught me how to waltz. She would teach me on Saturday and repair her skirts during the following week. I told her once that I thnught it was brainy to dance. She said she hadn’t noticed that, but she thought I seemed to run too much to legs. My wife is not timid about telling me anything that she thinks will be for my good. When I make a mistake she is perfectly frank with me, and comes right to me and tells me about it so that I won’t do so again. A friend of mine says I haVe a pronounced and distinctly original manner of waltzing, and that he never saw anybody, with one exception, who waltzed as I did, and that was Jumbo. He claimed tliat cither one of us would be a good dancer if he could have the whole ring to himself. He said that he would like to see Jumbe and me waltz together, if he were not afraid I would step on Jumbo and hurt him. You can see what a feeling of jealous hatred it aroused in some small minds when a man gets so that he can mingle in good society and enjoy himself. I could waltz more easily if the rules did not require such a constant change of position. lam sedentary in my nature, slow to move about, so that it takes a lady of great strength of purpose to pull me around on time. I had a partner once who said I was very easy to waltz with. She moved about with wonderful ease and a poetic motion that made my legs stand out at an angle of 45 degrees when we turned corners. She told me to trust her implicitly and she would see that I got around on time. My feet only touched the floor three times during the dance, and one arm has been a little longpr thap the other ever since that time. Most of the other dancers left the floor and watched us with great interest. Finally I asked her if she didn’t want to sit down .and fan herself till I could get her a glass of water. She said no, she didn’t feel fatigued at all, and then proceded to whirl me around some more. In makes me shudder yet to think of it. Every time the old bass viol would “zzzt, zzzt, zzzt,” she would schrunch my shoulder-bades together and swing me around like a wet rag. I~then usked her if she would not be kind enough to take me home to my parents. I 1 looked her in the eye and begged her to remember her father. He, too, was a man. “Ah!’!, said I, “do not taka advantage of your ‘ great strength. Perhaps you have h brother. How would you like to hav*e him fall into the hands of a strong woman and be kidnapped, so that you would never see his dear face again ?” She then relented and led me to a chair. I told her that my friend who had introduced us had not pronounced her name distinctly; might I ask her once more, so that we could, some day, dance again. She smiled joyously and gave me a large, stiff, thick, blue card, and left the room. It read as follows:

Sec : Row :The Homan Electric Wonder. Seat : Retain this : ■ check, as it ; secures your : Admit One. seat. :

—Chicago Times. He Might Have Stolen SIOO,OOO. After a brief pause, the banker who had told no story said: “I can tell you a true story of a young broker’s clerk who, from deliberate honesty, threw away an opportunity to steal SIOO,OOO, when he knew that he would never be detected. When George I. Seney was speculating heavily in railroad securities, he had a large amount of bonds hypothecated with a first-class Wall street firm. The bonds bore interestpaying coupons, and under the terms of the hopothecation, Mr. Seney’s clerk was to have access to them every six months for the purpose of clipping the coupons. The clerk was known to the broker’s firm. One day when he dropped in to cut off some coupons the hy-’ pothccated securities were handed to him, and he was left in one compartment of the offices. The firm, of course, retained in its possession a list of all the hypothecated securities, which it was accustomed to - compare with the securities returned by the clerk. On this particular occasion the clerk found infolded in Mr. Seney’s package other good, negotiable bonds of the value of SIOO,OOO. They had evidently got mixed up - with Mr. Seney’s securities through one of those unexplainable mistakes that happen very rarely in broker's offices. “The clerk cut off the coupons that he had come after and restored the package of securities to a representative of the firm.' The extra sloo,oooof bonds had been slipped into the

coat pocket. Mr. ’Seney’s securities 'were compared one by one with the cheek list and fonndto be all right. “ ‘ls everything there?’ asked the “ ’Oh; yes,’ said the broker, as he prepared to put away the box.. ’Everything is as straight as a string.’ “ ‘You are sure that there were no other bonds in that box ?’ “‘Perfectly,’ answered the broker, with a confident air. ‘We never gets things mixed here.’ “‘Well, how about this SIOO,OOO of bonds?" asked the clerk, drawing the' extra securities from his pocket. The broker recognized them instantly,.aud mentioned the name, of the person to whom they-® belonged. His astonishment knew no bounds when the clerk told him where the bonds had been found. The broker said that he would have sworn in court that those identical bonds were in a certain place in his private safe. The clerk was asked to accept SIOO as a souvenir of the occasion, but he declined." ~~ “That fellow will get away with a million yet,” said the a bfisk, natty banker, as he put on his hat and started for the car.— New York Times.

Coasting in August.

It was on the afternoon of the very warmest day in August that the children came running to me crying: “There are some boys and girls from the village out on the hill, and some from the hotel on the mountain, and they all have brought their sleds.” It seemed such a puzzle to me, that I rose and went out to see what was going on. When I reached the spacious balcony. I was almost convinced that, the whole valley had been bewitchadThere were gathered at least twenty children and half a dozen sleds. The boys were dragging the sleds up the steep slope of the hill-side that rose from the road in front of- the-house, while the girls followed after as well as they could. It was not by any means an easy feat to climb this slope. Though at a casual glance it seemed as soft and velvety as a well-kept lawn, it was to the unwary a delusion and a snare. The midsummer sun shines down upon the Adirondack Mountains with as much ardor as on the city streets. Though the nights are cool, frequently evqn cold, there are no dews, and usually but little rain. So the short thick grass that grows abundantly upon the sides of the lesser mountains, or, more properly speaking, tho foot-hills, becomes somewhat patched and smooth, and as slippery as ico. The children, then, had before them quite an amount of hard walking, but those children were like mountaingoats, hardy, willing, and able to climb anything.

I watched them with interest. At last the top was reached. Then, the sleds were turned upside down, and the runners were rubbed vigorously with candles; this completed, the sleds were put into proper position again, three children seated themselves upon each, and a gentle push started them down the slope. How swiftly they came! The slope was steep but smooth; not a rock, stump, or stone on its surface; there was no danger, and the sleds stopped on the sandy road. For two long hours this colony of children coasted—till the grass was worn almost to the roots, and the supply of tallow (which is indispensable for this midsummer coasting) was exhausted. After all the little ones were weary, we older people joined in the fun. I own to having made the descent but once—that was quite enough for me. I never before had heard of this novel amusement; but, startling as it seemed at first, the novelty soon wore away, and I became quite accustomed to the (sight and sounds of coasting in midsummer.— Mrs. Frank M; Gregory, in St. Nicholas.

The Broncho Cow.

When I 'was young and used to roam ■around over the country, gathering watermelons in the dark of the moon I used to think I could milk anybody’s cow, but Ido not think so now. Ido not milk a cow unless the sign is right, and it hasn’t been right for a good many years. The last cow I tried to milk was a common cow, born in obscurity; kind of a self-made cow. I remember her brow was low, but she wore her tail high, and she was haughty, oh, so haughty. I made a commonplace remark to her, one that is used in the very best of society, one that need not have given offense anywhere. I said “So”—and she “soed.” Then I told her to “histe”— and she histed. But I thought she overdid it. She put to much expresjsjOK in it. Jist then I heard something crash through the* window of the barn and fall with a dull, sickening thud on the outside. The neighbors came to see what it was that caused the noise. They found that I had done it in getting through the window. I asked the neighbors if the bam.was still standing. They said it was. Then I asked if the cow was injured much. They said she seemed quite robust. Then I requested them to go in and calm the cow a little and see if they could get my plug hat off her horns. lam buying all my milk now of a milkman. I select a gentle milkman who will not kick, and I feel as though I could trust him. Then if he feels as though he could trust me it is all right. —Bill Nye, in Chicago limes.

Didn’t Want to Be Arrested.

“Come in mine frendt undt puy you von oof dhose fine, excollendt, vprstglass, 'selluf-spring, dooble-acting, durable, strong drunks,” said a Hebrew to a Celtic gentleman, last Monday, on Eldorado street. “An’ phwat do Oi want to git drunk fur?” “To geep in your clothes.* “Not mooch, me by. Oi’ll kape sober an, kape me duds on me back, ye haythen. Do yes shuppose Oi wanter be arristed fur indaycent exposure?"— Stockton hldverick. Never jump at a conclusion.. Tt is as bad ah jumping out df bed and landing on the little end of a tack.

The People of Labrador.

If environment moulds apeople, then the Labradoreans should have strong traits. The climate, the unique features of the country, tho undisputed supremacy of the sea, the isolation from the world—all their circumstances, indeed—are so strongly marked as to be irresistible. The population of the Canadian part <?f the coast—down to the boundary line at Blanc Sablon—is of French origin, Canadian and Acadian ; the Newfoundland part of Labrador—the Strait of Belle Isle and the Atlantic coast—is inhabited by English speaking people. Moravians and Esquimaux are found in the far North. The French Canadians consist of two classes; apart of them come here every spring to fish for the merchants, and Return every fall to their families and famuli homesteads between Quebec and | Gaspe; others live here permanently, own little isolated establishments, and ifish on their own account The Acadians have collected in two principal settlements, Esquimaux Point and Natashquan,where they have their schools, priests, churches, and some other features of village life. ; I * was fortunate in being stormJstayed at a few of these French Can,adian homes, where I found, now and then, a person able to give me some account of the summer and winter life of the people. To begin with external land —material things, the average (home of Labrador generally consists of a rough board dwelling, with two rooms and a garret, a small dock and store-house for receiving, cleaning, curing, and storing fish, and two or three open fishing-boats. All these buildings perch like anxious waterfowls on the bare rocks ; they never impress me as homes, for they make for themselves no niche or place in the surface of the earth; you expect them to be washed or blown away at the next gale—as they sometimes are. For the sake of being near the fishing grounds these shelters are generally established on some outlying island, offering a mooring, or else a beach for the boats; they seem to be banished from the earth as far as possible, seaward. They stand up gaunt, stark naked in the gales, in the midst of a desert of sea and rocks.

In the best places there may be in a hollow a little sand, enriched with decaying fish, where a few turnips and cabbages manage to show themselves during a brief season. You get a gleam of hope and of horror on beholding a gaunt scaffold about eighteen feethigh; but it is not a gallows for the ending of life, only a platform for keeping the frozen fish for dog-meat. The interior of these homes is not so distressing as their hard surroundings, for the human hand in-doors can make its mark, which is not always a clean one. The furniture, diet, and costumes, are rough and common-place; but the people are courteous and kind, and they observe well their religious rites. Their -isolation is such that they keep the run of time by marking the days of the week on the door-post. Here is a region without a mile of road in three thousand miles of coast; I never elsewhere appreciated a wheel and a horseshoe. Some of these people have no idea of the shape and size of a cow or hore, and they flee like harses at the coming of a stranger. I have stated elsewhere that lawlessness often prevails, and that those who are in need do not hesitate to break open stores and help themselves. But their most astonishing traits are laziness and improvidence here in sight of heart-rend-ing hardship and want. Labrador, however, was formerly a sea of plenty; fishing, sealing, trapping, gave even the (indolent a sure though a miserable living. In a few weeks the average man could catch fish enough to exchange with traders for the necessaries of life. This enabled him to idle away threefourths of the year, and relieved him of any sense of responsibility. But now fish, oil, and fur are no longer so abundant. The average family spend about SIOO per year to get the absolute necessities of life; and yet the Government is obliged to distribute flour and pork to prevent actual starvation ; and it offers free passage and work to those who will leave the coast. The lazy depend upon the industrious, the provisions are shared, and if navigation is tardy, the first sail is watched for in the spring with eagerness.— C. H. Farnham, in Harper's Magazine.

A Novel Court House.

At Magipe Bay I left the steamer, launched the Allegro once more, and returned to my primitive mode of travel. As I paddled toward the beach, the little cove was very animated, with a large fleet of fishing barges coming in to the two wharves, and with groups of men at work on the docks and about the flakes and buildings scattered along the terraced hills. And the cordial hospitality of the agents of the fishing firms added still more to the impression that one was in civilization. It is well to give here at least one of the peculiar scenes connected with this part of the coast The country Judge, Mr. O’Brien, was holding court in a building on the hill, to administer justice then for the entire year. The county Court House is a small yacht, ■the Euby, then riding at anchor within the bar; she moves up and down the coast during the summer, and anchors at any place where her presence may be required. The judge, seems well fitted for the post, being a dignified and portly man of an easy-going nature, who can wait any length of time for a fair wind, while his twinkling eye seeks more for fun than for the sternness of justice. As he was the only officer, the court was < organized by his sitting down behind a deal table, and telling the people that they must be silent excepting when called on to plead their causes, or give evidence. One case was nominally the trial of a man for stealing an auger; but as the Norman blood of the defendant and plaintiff warmed to their national recreation of disputing, they became tremulous with excitement, and turning their backs to the court, passed a half-hour in mutual recrimination, in the course of which lyas revealed the real pojnt at issue—a fight that had occurred the past winter. Here their wives came in and added the chorus of their shrill testimony; and, taken altogether, the uproar was, at, last, too much for even the placid judge; he

X f : ~.CV turned them all out, and court adjourned for a cigar and a rest. Once outside, the litigants had the affair all, over again in their own 4 way. And finally the case could not be decided until the auger cpuld be produced. Another case was a charge of assault and battery with knives, which the rougher characters of the coast use too frequently instead of their fists. A suit brought for libel was announced by the husband of the plaintiff as a case of “inflamation de charactere.” And so the proceedings of this unique court continued their revelation of some of the manners and traits of the people.— C. H. Farnham, in Harper's Magazine.

The Way of the American Waiter.

In the true American dining saloon the waiters are not females. A woman is a noble creature, but she cannot give to such an establishment its distinctive style. Neither are they Germans nor Frenchmen, for these think too much of their customers and too little of Frenchmen and Germans may have their strong points, but they give us no true idea of volunteer firemen of the olden time. If an American dining saloon waiter does not strut up and down the passage between the tables as if he were marching proudly down Broadway before his “machine,” or if he does not call for tea and toast as if he were shouting through a trumpet in the midst of the smoke and flames of a conflagration, “Turn on yer water, Big Six!” then he is a counterfeit, an imposter. ' You may, perhaps, be reluctant to proffer your modest request for food to this apparently superior being, who slowly advances toward you and stops, perchance, to rest, leaning upon your table and gazing pensively toward the door. But you need not fear. Ask for what you want, and though he may give no sign of listening, your end will be attained. Even when he leaves you, in silence, and goes to lean on two or three other tables, despair not, for soon you will him see strut proudly down the passage toward the kitchen and hear him shout the trumpet tones: “Once on the leg o’mutten! Two beans! Three times on the roast beef, and one ov’em rare! Pe-e-e-e soup! Tapioca puddin’, both! Boiled apple dumplin’, hard! Plate o’ buckwheat, brown.”

You may little imagine it, but your order is there somewhere, and although there may be half a dozen other waiters all thundering out at the same time equally conglomerate commands', the time will come when your waiter will strut up to your table and deal out to you from a pyramid of dishes he carries, the plates containing your meal,, and then, carelessly chucking a check upon the table, he will strut away without knowing or heeding whether the dirty bit of pasteboard has landed in the butter or the gravy. When he has left you, you will probably find upon the table everything you ordered; and, whether you ordered it or not, you will have a boiled potato. An unordered boiled potato, with the skin on, is the second grand characteristic of an American dining saloon. It matters not what meal it is, the boiled potato will always appear, if the establishment is truly legitimate.—Brooklyn Eagle. —— ——————

The Woodcock’s Wooing.

Woodcock have certain peculiarities which endear them to sportsmen as well as make them an interesting study to men of science. Their love-making' is essentially their own. Early in the spring the male bird seeking a mate repairs to some well-known covert where the females most do congregate. It is just at sunset. All day long he has been filling himself full of long lucious worms, and as nightfall comes his bird thoughts turn to affairs more sentimental. When he reaches the parade ground he looks anxiously around, and if no suspicious noise jars on his sensitive ears, he begins with a low introductory overture. Then he grows impatient and utters loud, gutteral bleatings, clucking just before each one. Then he struts up and down the mossy banks, as if his performance gave him intense satisfaction. Then he considers himself fairly introduced, and, taking wing, rises in the air, flying in spiral circles, each -growing smaller as he ascends. During the flight he utters a low, sweet, cooing note. After sailing about he swoops down to the spot of his starting. For hours he fools about, displaying his wing performances until' the female can no longer resist his antics, and throwing coquetry, as Hamlet did physic to the dogs, she approaches with ruffled feathers and disheveled' plumage. The two meet and caress each other with every evidence of affection and all the by-plays of love thrown in, and, locking their long bills, as if; too happy for earth, they rise straight iuto the air, and fly far out of sight in-. * the darkness.— Burlington (N. J.\ Enterprise.

Lightning.

The cause of death by lightning is the sudden absorption of the electric current. When a thunder cloud which is highly charged with positive electricity hangs over any place the earth beneath it becomes abnormally negative, and the body of any animal standing under the cloud will partake of this influence. If in this condition a discharge fakes place from the cloud, the restoration of the equilibrium wiU be sudden and violent—or, in the language of hypothesis, the electric fluid will rush up into the body from the earth with such force as to produce death. And this is what is meant by being “struck by lightning.”— lnter Ocean.

Perfectly Natural.

Robbins (to a friend) “Yonder comes Jackson. He owed me $5 for two years.” , Jackson—“ Hello, Robbins. By' the way, I «owe you $5. Here’s your money.” Robbins (taking the money with a show of reluctance)—“ls that so?” Jackson—“ Yes I borrowed it some time ago.” . Robbins “Well, well. I never would have thought of it again.”— Alt-<-kansaw Traveler. ‘ “Gently the dues are o’er me stealing,” as the man said when he had five bilik presented to him at ohe time.