Rensselaer Republican, Volume 18, Number 23, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 11 February 1886 — Page 2

\, TUB MOTHER-IN -LAW, BT qUHLM rOLLKN ADAMS. Dh«r« n* many qreor dings dings in (Its land off dsf ®pss '/ X nefforoould qvit* understand; Der peobles dhey all seem so deeferent to me As dhose in my own taderland. Dhey gets blenty droubles und iiido mishaps Mitoudt der least bit off a cause; Und, you Id you pellet id? dhose mean Yangce chaps, Dhey fights mlt dher moder-in-laws. ■bustdink off a vhite man so Ticked as dot! Vhy not gif der old lady a show? Who ras it gets oup, yen der night id vas hot, Mtt mine baby, I shust like to know? Und dhgn in der Yin ter Then Katrine vas sick, Und der mornings vas showy und raw. Who. made righdt avay oup dot fire so qrick? Thy, dot vas mine moder-in-law. Id va* von off dhose voman's-righdts Tellers I hum • Dhere vas noding dot's mean abodt me; Then der oldt lady vishes to run dot masheen, Vhy, I shust let her run id, you sue. Und, vhen dot shly Yawoob was cutting some dricks (A block off der oldt ehip he vas, yaw 1), ■es she goes for dot chap like - some dousand off bricks. Dot's all righdt i She’s mine moder-in-law. Task oudt und veek in, id vas alvays der same— Dot voman vas boss off der house; Budt, dhen, noffer mindt’ I I vas glad dot she came; She vas kind to mine young Yawoob Strauss. Und ven dhere vas vater to get vrom der spring, Und fireevood to sbplit oup und saw. She vas velcome to do it. I)here’s not anydlng Dot's too good for mine moder-in-law.

THREE WOLVES. BT FRANCIS GERRY FAIRFIELD. Three gaunt, grim wolves that hunt for men, Thrqe gaunt, grim wolves there be; And one is Hunger, and one is Sin, And one it Misery. I sit and think till my heart is sore. While the wolf or the wind keeps shaking the door. Or peers Jt his prey through the window pane, Till his ravenouß eyes bum into my brain. And I cry to myself, “If the wolf be Sin, He shall not come in—he shall not come in; But if the wolf is Hunger or Woe, He will come to a 1 men, whether or no 1" For out in the twilight, stern and grim, ... ... A destiny weaves man's life for him As a spider weaves his web for flies; And the three grim wolves. Sin, Hunger, and Woe, A man must fight them, whether or no. Though oft in the straggle the fighter dies. To-night I cry to God for bread. To-morrow night I shall bo dead*; For the fancies are strange and scarce sane, That flit like specters through my brain; And I dream of the time long long ago, When I knew not Sin, and Hunger, and Woe. There are three wolves that hunt for men, And I have met the three. And one is Hunger, and one is Sin, And one is Misery: Three pairs of eyes at the window pone Are burned and branded into my brain, Dike signal lights at sen.

SYKESY.

BY JOHN M’GOVERN.

In a city like Chicago there are on every side, young men who seem to have" eaught the smile of Fortune. They stand on the top round of the ladder, and they cry cheerily to the surging eompany beneath them that there is plenty of room up there. I happen to hear the other day how the grain trade had lifted and supported a climber. •Let us fiist philosophize, merely, that, when the good Dame Fortune smiles, she is apt to be looking at a bright, active, cheerful, temperate fellow, and the more abstemious his habits may be, the more delightful is the smile she seems to bestow. Well, this yeung man was a Hoosier. He lived in a Hoosier village, let us say Warsaw, because it was not Warsaw, and this Hoosier village was feeding many railroad passengers and reckoning them in her census. The plaoe was full of railroad slang, new jpilroads, business, and traveling men generally. The young man—let us call him Sykesy — 7? as bursting with the desire to succeed; he was boiling over with ideas; he was “dead on to” the weaknesses, timiQity and average humility and ignorance of mankind; yet he himself was also ignorant and inexperienced. And as to capital, Sykesy had, on this pivotal morning in his life, just eighty cents. But he met a good man that very morning, and secured an idea. An idea planted in a busy brain may be the seed of wonderful things. George Stephenson’s idea, and James Watt’s idea, made it possible for Vanderbilt to give eight children sll,000,000 each. Now Syksey, with his idea just secured, rented an “Take it, me boy!” cried his admiring friend, the landlord. “Its all right if you fail—but you'll not fail. ” •Local wheat-buyers in those days had been forced to ship wheat to the East and await returns, being meanwhile at the mercy of the middle-men. Syksey meant to actually buy wheat and pay the local man the cash. This was an entirely new thing in that region. So Syksey got on the next train and rode to the end of his 80 cents’ worth. The wheat-dealers were only too glad to see him. They sold him five cars of No. 2 red, and would have sold him v fifty more had he dared take on so much. But in buying five cars he had made no less than SSO. A young man, without a cent, who had no money with which to get home, had made SSO for his day’s pay. The sellers of the wheat were to start the loading of the ears that afternoon and bring the bills of lading, in Sykesv’s name, to Warsaw the next day. Syksey was to get home, and it was snowing hard. But what wds snow to Syksey, the man of large ideas ? A passenger train came and went —no use in bothering the passenger men. A freight train rumbled in. Sykesy knows the conductor. “Fd like to take ye back, Sykesy,” said the train man, “but you know how it is.” “All right,” said Sykesy, “M just walk down the other side of the train, and you needn’t bother your head. ” So Sykesy climbed on an out-of-the-way sand-car far down in the train, and when the brakeman afterward came along on top the train and looked down on the contraband, interdicted, and illicit Sykesy, that brakeman wheeled around and at some risk of falling, turned his brake with his back to the platform-car below him. Thus it came that Sykesy was not discovered by the lynx-eyed trainmen, and rode home in rust, snow, tLnd glory. The next day we see Sykesy at the bank; . . “Here," says he, “are bills of lading for 2,500 bushels of No 2. red, billed to me, Christopher C. Sykes, Philadelphia, notify Quake, Kimball & Quoke, 77 Walnut Street. Here is Christopher C- Sykes'name on-the back. Now take

those bills and give me the mortey. Its six and a quarter for you and you know its perfectly safe." The banker says :”I see, Sykesy. It's all right. I know your plan. It’s good. Let us see: Twenty-five hundred at a dollar thirty—that’s $3,250; eighteen for freight. I see—that’s $450. You want $2,800. Hqw much .shall I pay you?” “Twenty-seven hundred and fifty,” says Sykesy. “Leave the fifty to my credit. ” -Sjtkesy had bought at a dollar ten; he bbulcFsell in Philadelphia, net track, at a ’dollar thirty; freight (and insurance), 18 cents; net cost to Sykesy in Philadelphia, $1.28; 2 cents on 2,500 bushels, SSO. Sykesy had made SSO. Good idea! Beside the $6.25 discount, it was worth money to the banker to pay out money in Warsaw and receive it in Philadelphian This was why he was so accommodatnjg. Now it is not every young Hoosier in Indiana who has a chance to make SSO a day and be treated with consideration by bankers and with absolute veneration by small dealers in grain, and Sykesy had not lost sight of that fact. It may be imagined in what a very rage of enthusiasm he devastated Northern Indiana. He bought here and he bought there. The railroad men ran after him; the telegraph company put “Sykesy, Esquire, ” after his bills, and he sent on to Philadelphia no less than three thousand cars of grain in three months. That is a mountain of grain, dear reader —a million and a half of bushels! It must not be understood that Sykesy was to make 2 cents a bushel for any length of time. Other buyers were quick to imitate. 1 The market was treacherous. The exporters at Philadelphia were careful to pare down Sykesy’s profits. But for all this, and with all their business strategy, Quake, Kimball & Quoke gazed -with awe and admiration at this young whirlwind out west. It took away their dignified breath. Then their “thrift” came to their succor. So they telegraphed to Sykesy to come to Philadelphia. They wanted to see him. But Sykesy’s head was not easily turned. He telegraped back that the interests of the trade required his close attention to business. Another request, answered similarly, and then their came a peremptory command to “Come on or quit!” Sykesy went. He was received by Quake, Kimball, & Quoke with open arms and endearing terms of affection. They wanted him on a salary—this young man who had made $3,500 in three months! About $1,200 a year would do, they thought!! “Sykesy, you don’t know nothin’ about how India is knockin’ vis!” said old Quake. “India is a doin’of us up! In a few" years we won’t be shippin’ a quarter of grain to Liverpool—you hear me! India is ruinin’ ns—-and Odessa!” “You don’t know,” said the eloquent old Quakey, “how the risk is all with us. You—buyin’ right-’n’-left out there in bucketfuls, and we a tryin’ to feed it to people in Yurrup and keepin’ all hands employed at hum ! No, sir, you’ve been makin’ more money than we kin stand, for I tell ye India is doin’ of us up!—and Odessa!” So, rebel as he might, these were the terms for Sykesy—“net track, Philadelphia,” poor Sykesy joked to himself —a salary, or no more connection with Quake, Kimball & Quoke; no more symposia with bankers; no more bowing and scraping from the telegraph people; no more incense from the rural grain dealers. So Sykesy made the medicine as sweet as the exporters would tolerate, and swallowed it—eighteen hundred a year and all expenses of the trip paid

upThis concession by the Hoosier buyer would go far, so Quakey would have Syksey believe, to continue the export trade. India would" have to stand back —and Odessa. “Sykesy,” said the jovial and very excellent old exporter, “you’ve seen the stuff grow out of the ground. You’ve seen it carried to town, dumped at the station, and loaded on the car. Now you just stay here till you’ve ' sebn it aboard ship. We’ll show you how we get it out ’o the country?^ Behold, then, Sykesy on a stool beside old Quakey, behind a window, in front of which stands a line of, perhaps, thirty vessel agents. Quakey is no youngster. He has been captian of a volunteer fire company in earlier days; he has. been in the export trade thirty years; he knows every vessel that comes into port, and can give the maritine insurance men points pn age, condition, and capacity. Now the vessel agents begin the morning’s encounter. The firm means to engage about sixteen vessels, but the agents do not know but that the number will be only one. Again it may be thirty. The ships are on the other side of the ocean, about to come across. The first agent comes up. “What’s your figure, Bill? Huriy up there, now!” cries the impressive Quakey. “Oh! What do you mean? A rate like that for the Mary Jane? —why I know her; she was B 2 when I was a runnin’ wid tne masheen! Go ’way now! Give the other boys a bid!” “But what will you give?" asks the agent, not visibly affected and not willing to loose his place that way. And so, as the firm want sixteen vessels and the rest of the line agents look savagely in sympathy with No. lin the line, a bargain is soon made. The good ship Mary, Jane, now leaving some far-away wharf, is to arrive at Philadelphia and load in thirty days with, say, 160,000 bushels of No. 2 red wheat, which is. now"lying cool in the warehouses along some new railroad in Indiana, 900 miles away. Quake, Kimball & Quoke have received cable advice that it is safe to buy sterling exchange and send any quantity of wheat; prompt shipment, at 52s 4d in Lixerpool for each eight btishels. That comes near $1:75 per bushel, and the difference between that price and the Philadelphia market ($1,30) lies in ocean freight, insurance, charges, and profit. Prompt shipment in .sixty days. Now, to cover the cargo of the good" ship, Mary Jane, the Philadelphia firm telegraphs to a New York house, for, say, $380,000 worth of sterling exchange, sixty days hi, say $4,841. That operation binds the measure.pf value.

for the price of exchaiige fluctuates, while the figure of the wheat bargain made at Liverpool, dependent on delivery, does not days the firm will have $380,000 in London that must be transferred to New York. Then if they own that much exchange, already bought, there has been no possible fluctuation—to the firm. The firm does not wish to gamble—to either win or lose. Then another person in the firm makes a contract with a red or a blue or a white freight-line for cars from Indiana. And then the wheat begins to travel eastward. Your little town of Warsaw, for instance, might load seventy-five cars in one week. All that is needed is an otftlet—a market at" Liverpool, or Havana, or Havre. On to Philadelphia comes the Mary Jane. The 160,000 bushels of wheat are run into her hold, three-quarters in bulk, and a fourth laid on top in sacks to hold the cargo in shape. Quake goes to the marine insurance office; he shows his' papers and gets his policy. Then he goes to the New York bank. He shows his charter of the Mary Jane, signed by agent and captain; he shows the ralroad weighmaster’s certificate that there are 160,000 bushels of wheat; he shows the Grain' Inspector’s certificate that it is Np'. 2 red; he shows his ocean freight bill; he shows his cable advice as to price; he shows his purchase of sterling exchange, and, signing over the outfit to the bank, he draws against the cargo and—for a discount—frees his capital for further purchases. So the Mary Jane disappears from the visible supply, and becomes one of those celebrated cargoes off coast that we read of in the Mark Lane reports. So go the sixteen ships. It is a busy place—the exporter’s office. Now a cable from one country, now from another. “Havana—Quake, Phil.—Give you (equal to $1.35) sixty days.” “Liverpool—Quake, Phila.—Give you (eqhal to $1.36) —sixty days.” “Barcelona—Quake, Phila.—Give you (equal to $1.37) seventy days.” So come the cables. So go the ships. The Indiana farmer sells, and smiles, and wonders if the “speculators” at the stations will get their money back. But Quake, Kimball & Quote fail to get as much grain as they can handle. Sykesy must go west again. And west he goes, with a good knowledge of the wheat trade, a wide acquaintance and a clear head. He buys com, wheat, oats, barley, flaxseed, and oil-cake. The banks are charging a quarter of 1 per cent, to cash the buyers’ bills, of lading given by the railroad. Sykesy deposits a small amount of money in his New York bank and, by drawing checks against that bank, and sending the ladings by mail for deposit at par. is able to underbid the other buyers (now thick as flies in the market), for he saves a quarter of 1 per cent. __ He sends his check westward; he sends hi*s ladings eastward by the same mail. Sometimes his check goes to New York by way of New Orleans, for it is eastern exchange and handy to have. Thus Sykesy, without a thousand dollars to his name, may have, for short periods, immense sums of deposit in New York. As the bank pays interest on daily balances he receives notice one month that he has been credited with SSOO interest on balances of some SBOO,OOO. His interest receipts average, say, $l5O a month. Not bad for a young Hoosier, was it ? At the end of the first year Quake, Kimball & Quoke, probably discovering his little piece of financial acumen, cut his salary to $1,500. And yet they have profited by his low bids. “But India is terribleSme boy!—and Odessa!” The next year India booms to $1,200; and the next* year the coral strand actually forces Sykesy salary down to SI,OOO. The firm sent him up into Michigan to see if they could not beat Toledo and Drtroit out of two cents those towns were making by cashing ladings and sending back the money to Michigan by express. It was an onerous tax. India was beginning to boom again. So up Sykesy went, armed with letters from Governors and He explained to the Michigan men. They took him to the banker to see about it. The banker could not deny that if the New York Bank would take a bill of lading at par, and if Sykesy’s checks were good, it would “do up” Toledo and Detroit, but privately the great man told the “boys” that Sykesy \vas too smart a chap for them. “He talks first-rate politics; ho is up .on the liquor question from Maine to Kansas; he is clever on religion, and he knows altogether too much about bankin’ to be a safe wheat man. I tell ye, boys, ye’d better let that feller alone.” It took an extra week to pacify capital, restore confidence in Michigan society, beat Detroit and Toledo, and keep India under control. Then Sykesy was to be sent to Southern Indiana. “I’ve a man there whose want of judgment has cost me $30,000,” wrote Quake. The man had bought double bills of lading. He had bargained with tramps for Palace Hotels. He had had no sense at all. South went Sykesy. Ah, that was the first time the hrorld had turned the cold shoulder to him. He would sit at the instrumefit in the telegraph office. “Give you thirty net track PhiladeL phia!” “Give you thirty half net track Philadelphia—that beats Chicago market!” So would go the telegrams along the railroad to every station. But never an answer. The poor boy watched the Chicago market. He nevey took his own chances and made offers that ought to have caught any seller. Still never a reply—not even a return telegram at Sykesy’s expense. A compassionate friend advised the Hoosier to go back to Warsaw. “You’re a stranger in these parts,” said he. Even Sykesy grew despondent. “These tellers,” wrote he to Quakey, “vote the straight Democratic ticket and 1 ship to Baltimore. It’s no use. They’ll not sell to me.” But Quakey wrote Rack; “Stick there! It isn’t you who are losing. It’s me. I know what’s in you. ” So Sykesy sat down and wrote out a hektograph or ..some other O’Graphic dispatch, asking in a fervid piece of rhyme, if some deal's!; rri the latitude would not sepd him a “collect message” refusing to sell— anything would lm batter than this everlasting silent^

Then thb compassionate friend and Sykesy wept to a pop-shop and swore eternal friendship over a bottle of sarsaparilla pop—stuff, that many brave young men in those days drank without fear of blue vitriol or marble-dust. When they got back to the telegraph office there was a stack of dispatches. “Sell you 10,000. Send us another,” “Accept your offer. Bully for you!” “Can give you .15,000 same figure. Didn’t know you meant business!” So ran the telegrams. Sykesy had caught the region. “You see the old man at Philadelphia was right*” said the happy buyer. ' He knew more’n you and me put together. He’s got more spine than the whole town.!” „ “Now,” said the compassionate friend, in astonishment, “if you had the proper icjea of your ability, you would never buy another bushel of cash wheat for the East, You would buy options for the West. The friend exhibited a little book to Sykesy. The friend had made commissions that very month to the amount of SBOO. “Do you know, Sykesy, there’s more truth than poetry in what your old man says about wheat? It’s goin’ down. It’s got to go down. And thesff fellers that’s pilin’ it up in Chicago will never pell it at what they’re payin’. Your old man isn’t squealin’ for nothin’.” Idea No. 2. Sykesy went back to Warsaw. He turned his eve toward Chicago. He turned his back toward Philadelphia. He knew a thing or two about wheat himself. There were in Warsaw a coterie of wise men who thought they could break a millionaire up in Chicago. They tried it. 1 . They did it. Warsaw was hardly big enough to hold them. Sykesy attended to their buying and made a commission. The millionaire returned to the fray. He broke Warsaw. Sykesy made his little “eighth,” and speaking in a speculative sense was the only man ip Warsaw. Then, as India began to fairly belch forth cargoes of wheat, Sykesy moved up to Chicago. The big board had use for just such men, and in five years he did a business that made a fortune. At 31 years of age he was worth S2OO/000. He had dwelt on the edge of the Western Maelstrom, and never looked into he got a commission. He ‘had lived in America, where young men wake up. He had let whisky alone. He had been a man of his word. ; And, above all, he had done business with men of large ideas. At Philadelphia there is no cargo for the good Mary Jane. Quake, Kimball & Quoke send a lot to Cuba once in a while, and bring back a few cigars. But as for India, she has it all her own way —lndia and Odessa! And at the railroad station in Indiana, the fariner who comes to town sells his erghty-cent wheat rnefully. “I wonder,” says he, “what has become of all them ’ere Philadelphia speculators. They was putty good fellers—all on ’em — purticulerly Sykesy!”-— Chicago Current.

An Excellent Shot.

A prominent merchant of Little Bock went turkey-hunting. In his household he had long boasted of his skill as a hunter, and when he left home his family knew that he would come back loaded down with game. After an unsuccessful search in the woods he returned to a railroad station, where he had got off the train early in the morning, and was greatly pleased to see a negro who had for sale several large turkeys which he had caught in a trap. The turkeys were alive and the merchant, glad of this, mused: “I’ll get a couple of those monsters and shoot them just before I get home.” He asked the price of two large gobblers, und struck him as being excessive, he handed out the money and took the turkeys. He was not very far from home and he decided to walk, knowing that to be seen on the train, carrying live game, would not appear very much like a true sportsman. After trudging about three miles, part of tbe way through a cypress swamp, the merchant decided to stop and slaughter his game. “Now„” said he, “I’ll just tie ’em on this stump, with their heads together, and will kill ’em both at once.” He placed the turkeys on a stump, stepped off about thirty paces and fired. "Wh-r-r-r-r!" the turkeys went, sailing over the cypress trees. The merchant stood aghast. His shot had only cut the string which bound The fowls.—Arkansas# Traveler.

The Cradle of Liberty.

The following is a story which Bishop Williams is said to be very fond of repeating te the students of the (Episcopal) theological seminary, at Middletown, over which he presides: Question —Where was the cradle of liberty first placed ? Answer—On Plymouth Rock. Q.—Who placed the cradle of liberty on Plymouth Rock ? A.—The Puritan fathers. Q. —Why did the Puritan fathers place the cradle of liberty on Plymouth Rock? - A.—That the cradle might be handy for rocking liberty to sleep while the Puritan fathers were cutting the tongues out of the Quakers’ mouths. This story, one of many jokes which Bishop Williams, it is saw,, delights in cracking at the expense of his own ancestors, falls in with the spirit of the times and will no doubt hit a number of the people also descended from good old New England stock. "—Waterbury News. ■

A Delicate Inference.

Neglected Sacramento Boy—“ Dad, I ain’t goin’ tew skule any more. ” Dad —“Why are you not' going tov school?” " * Bov—“ ’Cause, dad, I knaw as much as yew do erbout edication. ” Dad —‘‘I know that; but don’t yon wish to be a smarter map than your father, Johnny?” * _ Boy—“Naw, I don’t. With what little learnin’ yqw’ve got vew made a fortune. Dad. yew don’t thfhk I’m a hog,do yew ?” —California Maverick. Divers, by a recent: French invention, are said to be enabled to go down a distance of 800 feet baioir the surface of the water.

ENGLISH VOTING.

1 • • How Elections ore Conducted in England. British or Irish polling is conducted much after the New York methods. It has been preceded by registration lists, which are exhibited in public; by opportunities for- scrutinizing and'objecting to namts thereon, and by perfect copies after the lists are settled and attested being delivered to the President or Chairman of each poll and his clerical assistant. The voter finds provided, on polling day, a booth or building containing several rooms and of easy access c to his residence—within one or three miles, according as it is suburban or rural. There are ballot-papers, which must be printed and cannot have writing on them, but these are exclusively supplied by the legal authorities. There are ballot-boxes, where ballots are received in order of presentation. The days of polling vary in localities and according to the discretion of the returning officer, who consults the usages and habits of the locality; but the day must be within nine days after he has received the crown mandate, and three days must elapse between his issuing newspaper notices or his handbill announcement and the election day thus announced. On this latter day the nomination of candidates in writing first takes place. No one can be voted for unless duly nomiated. If more candidates are nominated than there are places to be filled, the election is adjourned for a poll next day from 8 a. m. to 8. p. m. On this day of nomination the returning officer apportions the poll expenses among the candidates, and they either pay or give security. These expenses vary according to the number of voters, from £IOO to £I,OOO, so that, as is obvious, poor men have little chance of being candidates, These expenses are never chargeable to the public treasury, and include every item of proclamation and poll expenses. The poll President may remove any person misconducting himself, and, if required on behalf of a candidate, ask the voter whether he is the person whose name appears on the register and whether he has voted before, and may administer an oath to confirm the answers. The ballot paper contains a list of the candidates nominated. On its being delivered to the voter it is marked on both sides with the official mark, and the number of the elector in the register is marked on the counterfoil. The counterfoil and the ballot-paper have corresponding numbers, so that, while the ballot-paper itself does not disclose the voter’s number on the register, that number can still be traced incase of a scrutiny through the other number on the counterfoil. The elector enters a compartment of the polling-station, marks the paper with a cross oppsite the name or names for which he votes, folds up the paper and puts it in the ballot-box, which at the commencement of the proceedings has been shown empty. Every precaution is taken throughout the" voting to maintain the secrecy of the ballot by imposing penalties and otherwise. This is a fac-simfle of the inside of a ballot-paper:

1 CHURCHILL. X 2 CHAMBERLAIN. -- f If more candidates are running theij* names are printed and numbered again consecutively 3,4, 5. 6, Intitials are only used 'when two of the same name are running. An -X is placed in the space on the right of the name of the candidate for whom one wishes to vote. If a voter deals with a ballot paper so as to make it useless the presiding officer may give him another, and the first ballot-paper becomes and is marked a “spoiled paper. ” A further duty of the presiding officer is to mark the ballot paper of illiterate voters, after they have made a declaration of their illiteracy, to place their papers in the box, and to enter the name and number of the illiterate voter in the list of votes marked by the presiding officer. At the close of the polling the presiding officer makes up and seals the ballotboxes, the nnused and Spoiled ballotpapers, the tendered ballot papers, the marked copy of the register of voters showing the voters who have voted, the counterfoils of the ballot papers used, the tendered voters’ list and the list of the illiterates’ votes marked by him. These packets are delivered to the returning officer of the district, and are to be accompanied by “the ballot-paper account,” which accounts for all the-ballot-papers issued to the presiding officer. v The countiug of the votes takes place before the returning officer, who, after opening the boxes and recording the number of papers in each, mixes all the papers together. He may reject ballotpapers for the want of the chairman’s official mark, or because too many candidates have been voted for, or because they are uncertainly marked or not marked not all. He has also to verify the ballot-paper account and forward it to the Clerk of the Crown with all the documents sorted. These papers are retained for a year and may be inspected by order of the House of Commons or of the High Court. • .*■ The last duty ot the returning officer is to make his return. This is done by indorsement on the writ of the names returned,, and the writ is then sent through the post to the Clerk of the Crown. —Lon Cor. Neid York Herald.

Fashion Item.

Meeting Jhn Webster, Uncle Mose could not help beihg astonished at the magnificent pants of ;Jim. 4 “Dat’s a mighty fine pair ob pants for sich a pore niggah as yon am to be a w earin’. ” “Yes, dev’s gorgus, and no mistake.” “How much mout dey cost yer, and whar did yer git ’em ?” “Dey mout cost me two years in Penitenshiery es I tole. ” — fexas Siftings. : ’ A married woman in Chicago has a sister. sS closely resembling her that the husband of the former is sometimes puzzled to tell them apart. -

Sodal Disorders and their Core.

That there is a tendency to disease, or at least disorder, in the social body and brain of which our individual bodies and brains are particles, is proved by the fact that Congresses and Legislatures, courts and jails, and poorhouses are thought to be necessary. / ; There are several diseases or disorders to which our social system is at times subject. There is the, dyspepsia of hard times, caused by a weakening of the social stomach, and a clogged circulation of the social blood; there is the fever of war, the; malaria of trade restrictions, the headache that follows a business debauch, the consumption of poverty, and a long list of other sicknesses causing pain and annoyance in different degrees. Social (’physicians—statesmen, politicians, reformers, and such of the populace as care to put out their signs—make careful diagnoses, feeling carefully of the public pulse, and name the cause of the disorder. One carefully examines the patient, 1 ooks at the tongue, takes the temperature, listens to the respiration, and feels the pulse, looks thoughtful, then wise, and finally pronounces the disorder a too high tariff on imported goods. Another, quite as eminent a social M. D., with an excellent practice and half a dozen diplomas, makes his diagnosis in a much similar manner, and, after due deliberation, says: “Too free coinage of money. You have too much mercantile blood in circulation. We must use leeches.” Others of the regular school come in, view the sick man, and ascribe tho cause, some to a .reduced tariff, some to too little silver, some to want of Civil Service reform, some to the Democratic party, some to the Bepublican party, some to the President, some to Congress, some to the banks, some to the brokers, some to Vanderbilt, and seme to Gould. All ane eminent physicians but few of them agree. « While the “regulars” are quarrelling, the “irregulars” take their turn at prescribing. One recommends woman suffrage, another greenbacks, another State socialism, another absolute freedom of trade, and another anarchy. While these latter are not looked upon as eminent social physicians, many of them use very persuasive arguments, and show the earnestness of firm conviction. Meanwhile the seeds of the disorder permeate the whole system, and many times recovery has been brought about simply because nature took its course. When doctors disagree, who sjiall decide ? Under the present system it must be the body politic, the brain of the social system. It may take the advice of the “regular” physicians or of the “irregulars ;” it may take physic or calomel or mercury; it may trust to the mind cure, the cold-water cure, or the hot-water cure; it may take of all the nostrums advertised on billboards and in newspapers; and peddled about the country by quacks of all kinds; and it may, if it thinks best, leave nature to affect the cure unaided. It is, probably, better that the social physicians do quarrel among themselves, for, if they were to agree, their agreement might be upon a poison whose effect (would be disastrous, if not deadly. The social system has strong vitality, and when sick the thendency is always toward health. An occasional purging, like that given by var, is doubtless needed, but homoeopathic treatment is better for most of its disorders. Save ns from those doctors who-make snap diagnoses and promise immediate cures, whether they treat the body human or the body politic, whether they cry nostrums in bottles or nostrums in books.— C. M. in Boston Globe.

A Very Tough Story.

A very tough story which is vouched for, after a fashion, is given for what it is worth by the Clipper. It is related that Mr. 8. M. was sitting in his back yard, talking to some friends, when his attention was called to a lien with a brood of young chickens and a large rat that had emerged from its hole and was regarding the young chickens with the prospect of a meal in view. As the rat came from his hole, the house cat awoke from her afternoon nap and caught sight of the rat. Crouching low she awaited developments, and stood prepared to spring upon his ratship. At the appearance of lus ancient enemy, the cat, a Scotch terrier, which had been sunning itself in the woodshed, pricked up its ears and quietly made for the place where the cat stood. At this moment, a boy came upon the scene. The chickens were not cognizant of being watched by the rat, nor did the rat see the cat, nor the feline the dog, who had not noticed the coming of the boy. A little chick wandered too nigh, and he was seized by the rat, which was in turn pounced upon by the, cat, and the cat was caught in the mouth of the dog. The rat would not cease his hold upon the chicken, and the cat, in spite of the shaking she was getting from the dog did not let go the rat., ( It was fun for the boy, and in high glee he watched the contest and struggle of cash of the victims. It seemed to him that the rat was about to escape after a time, and, getting a stone, he hurled it at the roThe aim was not good, and the stone struck the .dog right between the eyes. The terrier released its grip on the cat' and fell over dead. It had breathed its last before the cat in turn let go the rat and turned over and died. The rat did not long survive the enemy, and beside the already dead chicken he laid himself down and gave up the ghost. The owner of the dog was so ~ angry at his death that he is said to have come near making the story complete by killing the boy that killed the dog that shook the cat that caught the rat that bit the chicken in the yard on Blank street. Explorer Forbes is going to attempt to reach the summit of Mount Owen Stanley, 13,205 feet high, and heretofore untrodden hy the foot of tnan. ' Nearly a half in number Mid twothirds in circulation of the newspapers of the world are printed in English