Rensselaer Republican, Volume 18, Number 32, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 15 April 1886 — Page 2

. I,OVK for X dog. AWT 3*l* I*> ItIR M,A,nt *XT> TAN. I have a dainty i>liyn>at«. dear ; ' AsUn.m-other to uiihere ‘ :-G I. Of my ywn clau; A brM*-Rlrt collar«». ck» Hta lliront. And Ridnos like ailk Jus glossy coat Of Mack arid tail. Companion of my kmaly walks— Ha troU boaldn uie oft,'V« talks * As best be can ; ~ ■ Then, wild with sudden glee, will ruth I.flan, « At « 11, .ii al, Auu I BIK fTrUBUUV ■* Mr Ml*rwtßr Hie ! black and tan! Across bis nnsslrd brain there throng Confnaedldcks of right and wring, He has no plan Of conduct for hia daily guide. Tba god'fce worships dwells inside His black an.t tan. ' - , But should the world from me forbear And with unseasonable stare Some weakness fesn. / One faithful heart, I know, would ache, s Were I With life for aye to break. Ah! black and ton: You're very human, little friend; I wonder if per chance you end Where I began f Maybe 1 used to prance and bark, And my companion (save the mark I) Was black and tan. Maybe we’te not as far apart; .*y--Where la tha polut from wftlch I start To a man? Come, shake a paw, and let us,think If we can And this missing link. My black and tan. „ «CTT, COT BKHINOP* Then shnow and iea vas on dar ground, | Ond merry ahlelgb-bella shingle; - Mi"; Vhen Shack Frost ba vas psen aronnd, Und makes mins oldt ears tingle— ' I hear dhoae roguish gamins say, _ •list aboy pa uuconftned I" Und dben dheygo for e.'rr shleigh, Und yell, -Cat, cut pehind !* It makes me shust feel, young some more, To bear dhose youngsters yell, Und eef I don'd vasylitiff und sore, Py things II thus? vould—veil, Vhen s un* oldt pang vas coomin' py. I dink I'd feel inclined To thump righdt in übon der shly, Und sbout, "Cut, out pehind 1" * I mind me rot min'* fader said Vonee, vh»n I see a pay, Mit meei-cbie,' ah ays in mi no head, C»d fool off life und shoy : “Now, Hans, keep off der shleight," says he, -*Or else shust bear in mind, I daka you righdt across mine knee, Und cut, cut, cut pehind!" Veil, dot ras years und years ago, Und mine young Yawcob; too, Vas now shkvdoodling droo der shnow, Shust like t used to do;, Und Then der pangs coom py mine house, I shust peeks droo der plind, Und sings ondt, "Go id, l awcob Strauss, Cut, cut, cut, cut pehind I’ ••Charts* Fallen Adams, in Harper's Magazine.

CATHY.

ELEANOR W. F. BATES. It was the last day of Mrs. Hilton’s long and severe sickness; not the last day before the lonely journey through the valley of the shadow of death, but the last day before she finally resumed her station downstairs as housemother. She went happily, if feebly, from room to room. Pretty and | pleasant was her home, but it sorely lacked the eye of the mistress. She marked rnauy instances of neglect by the servant, but resolved nothing should make her unhappy while she enjoyed health. “Mamma isn't shut away from you any more, my treasures!” she sa'd, sitting down on the floor between her little sons, Ernest and Bernard. They took her caress calmly and continued playing with their blocks and she played with them, building houses and stores, barns, stockyards, schools, whatever the fertile fancy of the little sons dictated. When this palled upon them, she pleased herself ana them by relating the legends familiar to childhood everywhere; notable the history of the rat that had his tail bitten off by a perfidious cat who promised to restore it, hut didn’t* to the despair and untimely end of the unfortunate rat. Bernie said he would buy the rat a new tail; Ernie said he would give Bernie his cent to buy it with, and Bernie thereupon proposed to buy two tails. From these arcadian pleasures she was drawn by the cook, who demanded an interview. The interview disclosed the appalling fact that ■Bridget wished to leave, and leave at once. “But why?” / Bridget’s sister was dead. “But, Bridget, you surely don’t mean to leave me alone, just off a sick bed and with two little children to take care of, without giving me time to get another girl?” That was exactly Bridget’s meaning; and to Mrs. Hilton’s dismay, the bereaved person bade her a smiling farewell shortly afterwards. Mrs. Hilton felt indignant at the girl’s heartlessness; and it cannot be denied she had tears in her eyes when an embodied ennbeam entered; this was Georgia, her husband’s sister, fair-haired and brighteyed. “O Georgia!” cried Mrs. Hilton. “I am so glad to see yon! I am alone in the house with these babies. Torn is away for two nights. I dismissed the nurse this morning and the cook dismissed me this afternoon and I don’t know which way to turn! .Tam not able to stay alone a single day.” “I will stay with yon till somebody comes.” said Georgia, taking off her hat. “I will be cook and housemaid and nursemaid—who wouldn’t be nursemaid to you, my blossom?” with a kiss to Bernie, “and you shall tell me where your next girl is ooming from, and to-morrow I will go and hurry h< i up.” ■---: “But! don’t know where to turn for one.” •aid Mrs. “Hilton. “In a little place like this every girl willing to work out is' snatched up without loss of time, and it will take days and days to get a suitable one from the city.” /" • “WeHjNton’t worry, dear, ’’ said Georgia; Ernest was trying to open her parasol without loss of a moment, and Bernard already in her lap. vigorously tugging at the safetychain of her bracelet. She commenced to —ck and sing to Bernie. - " “The greatest piece"of Philosophy r -7- " Begins with Don’t and ends with Fret*™ She embellished it with numerous trills and roulades, looking laughingly at her sister-in-law, and at every other syllable Bernie rocked himself violently backward, and then pulled on Georgia's slender wrists to recover himself; his rippling laughter accompanied her singing as she reiterated the couplet again and again; but this amusement came to a sadden end by a sharp ring of the door-bell. “There is no one to go to the door,” said Mrs. Hilton, rising, but Georgia gently forced her back into an easy-chair and gayly went herself to answer the summons, with each little nephew clinging to her dress. Mrs. Hilton heard a soft voice ask • question, Georgia question in reply, then the stranger spoke again and in a few minutes was apparently requested to seat herself in the hall, and Georgia’s pretty foee beamed as she returned; “The Lord is tempering toe wind, you 'poor shorn lamb!” said toe. “This is one of toe Haley girls, who live dow n by toe brick-yard. Her aunt has worked in our family and is neat, and this girl is looking for a place. Isn’t it fortunate, if she will only suit! I like her looks ever so Shall she come in to talk with yon?” “Yes. indeed,” said Mrs. Hilton, and . looked with interest on the tall, stout girl “tost entered. She was dressed with, neat-nee-Mi and but little finery, had a pale frockleo-i akin, very light eyes, and lightantsm han>, with a straight noee and thin : V fe- I

lips. I She replied in answer to Mrs. Hiltons question* that sh« watt 18 yeafh old; tIW mother was BngHali, her father Irish. No, she ha<l never Worked out, but hermother had taken'crest palps hi r housework. t?s. she" was fond of children and would la- willing to assist in their cure. No, she had no follow ers, her mother wouldn't allow such n thing, aud she didn't want to b.* racing out eveninKS. her mother thought it wusn't decent. Her name was Catherine Aguss; most evenbody called h> r Cathy.' All this and much more delivered in a soft, demure, voice. -■ ““Weil, -Cathy," said Mrs* Hilton, “I trill lopk up your references and let you know to-morrow what 1 deride.” - Cathy thanked her respectfully and retired, only to be suminoued again early the next morning, for Mra. Hilton had a relapse and was dangerously - ill for Route days. So Cathy reigned undisturbed in her kitchen till one day Mrs. ’ Hilton, once more able to rome down-stairs, appeared on its threshold. .She found little to condemn and gave a few gentle directions, but to her horror, Cathy burst into tears. "I thought everything was all right,” she sobbed. “I didn't know the dish-cloth was musty or the bread-jar mouldy—oh! ohlohr Mrs. Hilton, still weak from her sick-< ness, retreated precipitately and Conversed no more with Cathy till Ihe next morning, when, finding a large roll of soiled tablenapkins, mildewed and damp, in the china closet drawer, she again summoned the girl to n conference. “Them was there when I cam* here and I didn't know as you’d have them washed,” Was Cathy's defense. She was fertile in excuses for shortcomings, and when cornered always took refnge in tears, which usually drove Mrs. Hilton from the field, nervous and disgusted. “That girl is very sly and tricky," remarked Mr. Hilton to his wife. -- “O, do you think so?” said the lady, much alarmed. ■- “I know it. That pale eye that shifts continually, tells the story." “Then I won’t have her in the house another day.’’ declared Mrs. Hilton. “Now don't be silly,” said her irritated husband. “They arc all tricky, and you won’t do any better if yon change, and you could not get another girl so fond of the children.” ;

it was true. Ernie and Bernie at first clung to Cathy, often even leaving mamma, and hanging round the kitchen table where the servant was busy. She baked little cakes and pies for them, nnd sung strange songs in a high, not untuneful voice; but one day Ernie fell out of the kitchen door and was terribly bruised, and after that declined to leave his mother’s side, except for the daily walk with Cathy. That walk was a great source of pleasure to the children; they never came home without new treasures; wild flowers, ferns, acorns, odd stones, all had a value for them. But apparently they climbed higher and played narder than ever before, for their clothing showed signs of ill usage. Once Ernie’s little straw hat was completely destroyed, the crown torn from the brim, and he came home with Cathy's handkerchief tied over his head, she professing ignorance of the manner of destruction. Another time Besnieaippeared with hia coat-sleeve torn out of the garment. “Cathy did it, mamma!” he shouted, as he entered the house. “Why, how did you doit, Cathy?” said her mistress, receiving the injured article in her hands. “I didn’t do it, Mrs. Hilton, indeed, I don't know how it was done—did I do it, Ernie? Did I, Bernie?” “No,” auswered both the children, and Ernie added, “But- I thought you did, Cathy!” Mrs. Hilton decided mentally that Cathy was not guiltless iri the matter, but she said no more, and resolved to watch. Her frequent illness often separated the 'children from her, and she was compelled to surrender them into Cathy’s hands. On one of these.pccasions she sent for Cathy, and when the girl appeared in the sickroom, she charged her minutely as to their requirements and urged upon her perfect faithfulness, at the same time making her a handsome present. “I love the little boys, ma’am,” said Cathy. “I wouldn’t injure them nor neglect them for nothing.” She loft the room, and in less than three minutes a loud shriek from the kitchen proclaimed an accident. It was Bemie’s voice, and Mrs. Hilton begged Georgia, who was spending the day, to bring him to her. Poor little Bernie! He was very pale and trembled violently, and the blood was streaming from mouth and nose. “What is it, darling? Howdidit happen?” “Cathy pushed me down-stairs,” sobbed Bernie. ’

“She could hardly have done so —6he hadn’t time unless she ran every step of the wav after leaving the room,” said Georgia. “His fall bewilders him.” , “Cathy did, she did,” sobbed Bernie. “Call Oatny.” said Mrs. Hilton. Cathy uttered voluble®' protestations, winding up with, “O, do you think I would hurt him; Mrs. Hilton? Did I push you, Bernie?” “No,” answered the child in a dazed fashion, nnd the matter was dropped.uutil Mrs. Hilton could lay it before her husband. “I Relieve, Tom; that Cathy amuses herself by piagtring—those children, andlhen bribes or-otherwise induces them not to expose her. I shall dismiss her as soon as I get well,” “Fiddlesticks! you shan’t do it,” roared Tom, who loved his own sweet will as well as any woman. “I never saw a woman so full of notions! Why, it's the talk of the neighborhood how fond our children are of Cathy, and Cathy of them.” -y “But Bernie has had two shocking falls, and each time he said Cathy threw him down—” “All a notion, I tell you! He never knows how he gets-hurt and always lays it to the nearest person.” - “Ican't Agree- with , .you, -Tom,” was nil his wife said, but iu her heart she pondered these things,and resolved toe girl should go as soon as she could compass it. Ernie and Bernie seemed to wish to be with their mother more than ever before, and did not 6eek Cathy's side; bkt Cathy came for them punctually every sunny afternoon and took them on their accustomed ramble, and from these rambles they returned so often with their clothing badly tom or spiled that Mrs. Hilton, out of patience, finally said to toe servant: “I shall hold yon responsible, Cathy, if another garment is injured while the children are in your care.” This had a wonderful effect; the bairns came home clothed and in their right mind.no accident had happened for some time, and Mrs. Hilton began to feel less uneasiness in their absence. There enree a day when toe mother found it absolutely necessary to be away from home some hours. She charged Cathy over and over to Care for toe treasures. left some novel playthings for them and hoped and tried to believe dhay wouhj be happy and safe in her absence, bat she was uneasT. The epidemic of tom cloth - ing had ceased to rage, bumps and bruises .had seemingly passed by, and now it appeared to the epoch of broken china, but what were wedgwood and majolica to her boys’ comfort and happiness? So she hastened through her business and returned as quickly as possible, looking up at the nursery windows as she neared toe house. There they were, her “flowers of sunshine,

nicnlded by tHe touch of Jehovah’s hand.* Ernie ran down to meet her with a shout. I - “ Where is fßernie?" said Mrs, Hdtoa, loikihg up lh« stairway,. .■ r "Benpe couldn't come, he’s hurt hie i kue said Ernie. ' *l>jam fall?” was the quick inquiry, while tlte, ever-present anxiety rose again and would not down. “No," s iid Ernie, and she was up-stair* in an instant and had her little son in hei aims. "tvhat Is it. darling? Hid yon fall on it?’ &i she tosied her bennet aside anil wa? pulling off her gloves. Hernia looted pub-, and his large blue eyes seemed to melt and darken as he answered. “Is my knee a pincushion. mamma? It hurts me, and Cathy says it s a little pincushion.” Mrs. lliltou turned down the child’* stocking und there, exactly as if it had been thrust in by a determined hand, protruded the head of a needle; who could scarcely grasp it, so deeply had,, it sunk, and hei fingers slid from, it repeatedly liefore she succeeded in drawing it ont. It left a tiny purple puncture; this she bound with a strip of soft linen, Wet in a soothing tincture, and rocked aud sang her boy into a state of comfort and content. H,e was sitting on her with six raisins and a piece of pink court-plaster, when Mr. Hilton appeared. She showed her husband the needle and related where she found it. “Hernie probably fell on it,” calmly responded Mr. Hilton. 'T do not know how it happened,” said his wife. “But why did Cathy tell th« child his kuee was a pincushion nnless she knew the needle was there, aud if she 'knew it, why didu’t she take it out, and why did I find the children alone when 1 came home? Never shall I leave my children in her care aguin, and I hope, Tom, yon yvill not oppose me in my wish to dismiss her.” “Do as you like,” said Tom, loftily. “It is my opinion yon make a great mistake in doing so, for there is no proof that she has ever Deen anything but kind and considerate to the children.” “The condition of their clothes and their little bruised bodies is proof enough, and you yourself said she was very sly and tricky,” replied Mrs. Hilton with spirit, and Mr. Hilton, seeing that his wife was in the frame of mind' he denominated “nprvous,” held his peace. She now descended the stairs in search of Cathy, but The girl was not in the kitchen or dining-room; supposing she would return immediately, Airs. Hilton bethought her of an errand to the cellar which she could now perform, as time served her. This cellar was damp and cold and seldom visited by its mistress on account of her sensitive lungs, and when Cathy entered the kitchen above it, she was utterly unconscious of the lady’s proximity. Mrs. Hilton stood endeavoring to decipher a label on a fruit-jar when she heard Ernie run into the kitchen. “Mamma! Where’s my mamma?” She never could tell in what terms or whether Cathy answered the child, for the air and her ears seemed go filled in an instant with the cry, “Don’t, Cathy, don’t pull Ernie’s hair!” that she paused for nothing, but flew over the stairs with a swiftness never excelled even in the days of her agile girlhood, and appeared, pale and breathless, in Hie kitchen doorway. Cathy had one hand on Ernie’s shoulder and (he child was crying; She looked at her mistress with a perfectly indescribable look, turned away and walked across the kitchen.

Mrs. Hilton made a powerful effort, as she gathered her boy to her, to regain her calmness before she spoke, but in spite of all, hsr voice vibrated as she said, “Cathy! I am shocked at your misbehavior! What are you thinking of to take such a liberty as to use violence with mv child—” “I didn't,” interjected Cathy. “So great a liberty that you cannot remain in my employ, and I wish you to leave immediately. Go up stairs at once and get yourflothes ready to take away. ” No disrespectful word had ever passed Cathy's lips to Mrs. Hilton, but now she stormed, she raved; she swore. The lady patised not, however, to listen- to this eloquence, but left the room with her little son, and Mr. Hilton, appearing on the scene,' persuaded or forced the furious girl to leave the house; and before sunset, Georgia, fall and running over with joving-kindness, had charge of her little nephews, and they forgot their sorrows in her gentle graciousness. - “I am so glad -you have got rid of that Cathy. She was too horrid!” said a neighbor, later. “I meant to have told you before now how she stole up behind Ernie last week and pushed him violently down the door-steps. Why, it might have broken a limb or fractured his skull! And when I called to her to be less rough, she answered in her smooth way that perhaps she did play too roughly with him, and thanked me for reminding her —the cat!” Some years afterward; a gentleman who was passing his novitiate as physician to an insane asylum in a neighboring town, invited Mt. and Mrs. Hilton to visit the establishment. The buildings were large and elegant, set in spacious grounds; no painful sight met the visitors; humanity and charity here walked hand-in-hand and many of the patients appeared contented', and even happy. “There is an interesting ease of, hereditary insanity.” said the young physician, pointing out a figure at the end of a corridor. She sat gazing out of the window, and held a child’s doll in her hand, through the ‘ body of it thrusting absently a knittingneedle again and again. “She developed a mania for destroying household articles and other thiiigs, assaulted a. child, was arrested, her antecedents looked up, and it .was found she had insane relatives and was undoubtedly insane herself, and untit to be at large. Good day, Cathy,” he added to the patient, whom they had nowreached. ‘ " ■ The woman rose and answered in a soft voice, “Good afternoon, doctor.” s' , , Mrs. Hilton knew the voice and recognized toe lighteyes and pUs fcttbTnrcr hair, the stout figure, the broad and cruel hands. She shuddered, irrepressibly, turned deathly faint and hastened into the open air. nor coujd she be induced to enter the building again; and this was toe last time she ever saw Cathy.

Shocking.

A-prominent New York theatrical man who is quite homely, but very conceited, went into a photograph gallery to get some photographs lie had had taken. The photographer produced them, and the man declared them excellent. Said he: “It is an excellent picture. It is me all over. It is life itself.” —- ,4i Ehat i9-sor”-r?spohded the candid artist, with a dismal expression of countenance; “they are so life-like that I can’t afford to put one of them in the show case, as I intended to. I can’t afford to shock the public that way.”— Texas Siftings. , ■ 7

A Slight Misunderstanding.

First Minister—“ Didn’t I understand yon to sav that those two gentlemen are heterodox ?” > Second Minister—“ No. They are quack docs. It’s their patients that are hater o’ docs.” —Newman Independent

. - ” con. -, ; .■ Tha following ■obllme uda to the Hu urease Being la translated from tils Haniarf' try Abiin IJowriug. It wo* written bv one of their'moat •Hutlntm ahed poets, Gabriel Roman invite b Derzhavin. The ode i« said to have been translated into the Chinese and Tartar laintnageaS written on rich silk, and suspended in the Imperial Palace at Pekin. Tha Emperor of .Japan Also had it translated into Japanoso, i rnhroidered in gold, and hung In the temple at Yeddo: f O thou eternal onel whose presence bright All space doth occupv, all motion guide; ; factious ad through time's all devastating flight; Thou only God! There is no G6d beside I Beoig above all beings! Mighty one! Whom none can Comprehend and none explore; -■ '-- —| - * ■ " Who flll’st existence with thyself alone: Embracing all—supporting—ruling o’er— Retog whom we call God—and know no more l Iu lti subll/no research, philosophy f s May measure out the -ocean-deep—may ’Count The sands or the sun's rnye-but jUod 1 for thee . There is no weight nor measure—nono Cali mount Up to ttiv mysteries. Reason's brightest spark. Thmivli kindled by thy light, in vain would try ■ To trace thy counsels. Infinite and dark; f And thought is lost era thought can soar sL high. Even Ilka past moments in eternity. Thou from primeval nothingness didst call > First chaos, then existence—Lord in thee Eternity had its foundation -all Sprung forth from thee; of light, joy, harmony Sale ori in—all life, all beauty thine, Thy word created all, and doth create; Thv splendor 011 b all space with ravs divine; Thou art. and wert, and sbalt bo I Glorious I great 1 Light-giving, life-sustaining potentate. Thy chains the unmeasured universe surround; Upheld by thee, by theeinspired with breath! Thou the beginning with the end hast bound. And beautifully mingled life ahd death! As sparks mount upward from the Aery blaze, So suns aro born, so worlds spring forth from thee: ." And as the spangles in the sunny rays Shine round the silver snow, the pageantry Of heaven’s bright army glitters in tuy praise. A million torches lighted by thy band Wander unwearied through the blue abyss: They own thy powor, accomplish thy command, All gay with life, all eloquent with bliss, What sho'l we call them? Piles of crystal light— A glorious company of golden streams— Lamps of celestial ether, burning bright— Huns lighting systems with their joyous beams ? But thou to thcoe art as the moon to night. Yes I as a drop of water in the sea, All this magnificence in. theo is lost; What are ten thousand«"worlds comparod to thee? And what am I, then? Heaven's Unnumbered host. Though multiplied by myriads, and arrayed In all the glory of sublimest thought. Is bu> an atom in the balance, weighed Against thy greatness, is a cipher brought Against infinity t What am i, then? Naught! Naught! But the effluence of thy light divine. Pervading worlds, hath reached my bosom, t°°; " Yes, in my spirit doth thy spirit shine As shines ihe sunbeam in a drop of dew. Naught I but I live and on hope’s pinions fly, Eager toward thy presence ; for in thee I live and breathe and dwell; aspiring high, Even to the thro- e of thy divinity, I am, O God; and surely thou must be. Thou art! directing, guiding all thou art! Direct my understanding then to thee; Control my spirit, guide my wandering heart; Though but an atom midst Immensity, Still I am something fashioned by thy hand ; I hold a middle rank 'twixt heaven and earth, On the l ist verge of mortal being stand. Close to the realms where angels have their birth. Just on the boundaries of the spirit-land. The chain of being is complete in me; In me is matter's last gradation loat, - And the next steji is spirit—deity. I can command the lightning, and am austl A monarch and a slave ; a worm, a god I Whence came I here, and how? so marvelously Constructsd and conceived? unknown! This clod Lives surely through some higher energy; I or from itself alone it could not be I Creator, yes I Thy wisdom and thy word Created me I Thou source of life and good [ Thou spirit of my spirit, and my Lord! Thy light., thy love, in their bright plentitude Filled me with an immortal soul, to spring Over the abyss of death, and bacie it wear The garments of eternal dav, and wing Its heavenly flightbeyond this little sphere, Even to its source—to thee—its author there. -r • ■ 1 ■ —.—... O thoughts ineffable 1 0 visions blest I Though worthless our conceptions all of thee. Yet shall thy shadowed image fill our breast, And waft its omage to thy deity. God! thus alone my lowly thoughts can soar; Thus seek thy presence—being wise and good I Midst thy vast works admire, oboy, adore; And when the tongue is oloquent no more, The soul shall sp' ak in t-ans of rr.nitude.

Plain Mr.

It is quite refreshing amidst the variety and signification of titles which men assume or by which they are ad-J dressed according to station, aecident or circumstances, to meet the plain unassuming designation of manhood. Especially is it so when applied in its genuine character-and expressiveness to those pre-eminent for, their worth and intelligence, but who may never have attained aUyfictitious recognition to some title through official position or public station. The application of titles, significant and insignificant, is well enough perhaps as custom goes, in a majority of cases ; but it has long lost much of its force through the absence of meritorious character or high moral or intellectual worth, or even average ability which it was originally supposed to imply. With our lohg lists of honorables, esquires, and military designation without limit, how few there are that really express anything consistent, with the true meaning of the application ! j ; They are often very vainly accepted and borne on the Strength of some position that was supposed to warrantthem, but they convey no idea of worth and expressiveness in many cases, even to those who use them in addressing the hearers, more than the tinsel and adornments of a stage dress-does the character of the wearer. A service in one branch of our State Legislature or in the office of mayor of a little city, gives the title of honorable, though tiie position. from the' clTCUnretances of one’s election or of his public sendees may be radically at variance with any sense of honor. * Military titles gained through an assumption of a rank never held, or services in a.torchliglit procession in a political campaign, or in peaceful staff attendance upon the Governor in visits to fairs and cattle shows, eheat real rank and service of their merit for the sake of the empty honor to the fictitious holders of titles. Many seek those petty offices and appointments not for the pleasure or profit, bat for the vain glorious titles which they eqpect to carry thereby through life. The plain Mr. of Wendell Phillips was the prefix by which he is best known and by which he .preferred to be addressed, And one eminent leading banker, just deceased, whose virtues and abilities, whose moral and pecuniary wealth gave him the highest position in the hearts of~ his fellow citizens, was generally mentioned with the. same modest title, which expresses all that is essential for true honor and manliness when character stands behind it. The honorables of our ward and city politics, the esquires of our country villages, the colonels of- our cross roads, yield after all in real popular esti-

illation to the plain aud (sturdy appellation that (shines by no borrowed light and exprorfaep w ith wiflieient dignity tiie aiaaeuline character which cannot be ennobled hy the application of a misapplied handle to the namgj,— Bouton Courier,

The Lime-Kiln Club.

the meeting had been opened in due form Brother (l craned hia neck to look behind Wavdown Bebee and saij.l; • ‘‘Am Zollicoffer Stebbin.s sittin’ hack dar? If so, I'd like so hev’ him come ford to tie roHtriim," Zollicoffer was there, and ho rose np and modestly approached the designated spot.- reSL- ••• “Bntdder Stel(bins,” continued the President, “I Earned dat you slrawed SBOO in a lottery a few davs ago. Am Ik’rect?” “No, sah. My aunt died and left me money. ” “Oh, she did? Well, it’s about do same thing, only it was a lee tie surer ease fur you to have your aunt die. Brtidder Stebbins, I ar’ told dat you* are werry anxious to pyt dat money whar it will make a big return." “Yes, sah.” ~ “Wall, I has bin sliinnin’ around an’ makin’ some inquiries of late. Brudder Stebbins, it am a sack dat seven-eighths of de houses of imfamy in Detroit am owned by pussons who pass fur werry respectable men an’ women. Moas’ of ’em go in good society, and a sheer of ’em am members of de church. Dey not only know jist what sort of tenants dey liov got, but dey exact art’ receive twynty-five per cent, mo’ rent dan could be got from any odder class of people. If you kin buy a couple of ole houses and rent ’em out in dis fashun you’ll soon be rollin’ in wealth. “Agin, Brudder Stebbins, two-thirds of de saloons in Detroit am owned by respectable citizens. A place which would rent fur sls per month fur a shoe shop brings $25 as a saloon. Try and get hold of a couple of places. “Once rno’, Brudder Stebbins, why not rim for Alderman ? De electors of Detroit doan’ ask dat a eandydate shall eben be able to write his own name. DeV dean’ look fur ordinary intelligence. Dey doan’ ask any guara-atee of his honesty. De pay of an alderman am $3 per week. Men go dar fur de honor of it, an’ de fust thing you know r dey am buyin’ houses an’ lots an’ drivin’ S6OO horses. If you succeed in gettin’ in doan’ hev no twinges of conscience about sellin’out to de highest bidder and makin’ all de money you kin. De mo’ you make de mo’ eminent you will be arter you hev retired to de seclusion of your own co’ner grocery sto’!

“I lias bin knockin’ ’round on top of .dis vere earth a good many v’ars, Brudder Stebbins, an’ I Imp diskivered dat a dozen honest men die in de poo’ house whar-one gits rich. I has seen men so honest dat dey wouldn’t pick up a lost boss-shoe take a back seat, while de man who picked up de shoe an’ stole de boss to boot was giben a place in de front row. Doan’ start out wrong eand foremost. Doan’ be too good. Doan’ expeck to sot a shinin’ example fur politishuns. We hev got men in Detroit worth tens of thousands who started on less capital dan you possess, but dey didn’t begin by payin’ pew-rent or sendin’ money to de heathen. ” —Detroit Free Press.

Badly Treated.

Mr. Anderson Bradley thought,that a mercantile establishment in the Indian Territory could not fail to yield handsonie profits. He opened a store in the Choctaw nation about two months ago. The other day he returned to Little Rock. His clothes were much worn and his manly physique appeared to have received some sort of a shock. “Why, Anderson,” saidCfriend, “you do not appear to be enjoying yourself.” “No, I am not boisterously happy. ” “What has become of your store in the Indian Territory ? ” “It’s up there yet. ”4“Has business been very good?” “Middling.” “Come, tell me what’s the matter.” “Well, I wasn’t treated rightly. When I went up there 1 found a man who . wanted to sell his store. He offered the establishment at a very reasonable rate and as I had the cash I bought it. I restocked the house and soon thought myself on the road to prosperity. Several days afterward a man walked briskly into the store—and said: “ ‘My name is Fowler.’ I shook hands with him, for he looked as though he might become a good customer, and invited him to sit down! “ ‘Why did Piles leave, so suddenly?* "he asked, meaning the’Tnan from whom I bad bought the store. ~ I replieu that I did not know. He went behind the counter and going up to the desk began to look over my books. He was a muscular fellow and I was determined to treat him with politeness, but I soon found it necessary to say something. He turned to me and remarked; ""‘As' the dull season is coming on I reckop I’ll have to get along without yom • - ; —_ “ ‘What do you mean ?’ I demanded. ” “ ‘I mean that I’ll have to discharge you. Piles had no authority to hire anyone. He might have waited till I got back.’ “ ‘Will you please explain ?’ said I. “ ‘I think, sir,’ he replied, ‘that you are the one to explain.’ “ ‘lll do so. This is my house, and— ’ “ “Your house ?’ ‘Yes, my house. I bought it of Piles.’ ' 7' • “ ‘Then Piles sold something that did not belong to him. This is my store. Piles was only a clerk. ’ “I couldn’t do anytjiing. I went to law, but lost the case. All my money was gone, and I was in a strange country. I had to tramp away. I would tell yon more, but Piles is in town.” *" * “And yon are hunting him ?” “Well, no, lam keeping out of his way. He says that he didn’t charge me enopgh fer the store, and. * says; bo -1 understand, that he proposes to get even with me physically. I like a quiet life, von know, and therefore shall not associate with him.” —Arkansaw Traveler

He Had Consulted His Directors.

. A large proportion of the cotton-mill properly in Spindleyille is, as every-' body kpows, in the hahdsof the Haughton family, who got it through the marriage' of one of the daughters of tho family to the man who started the mill business there. When he died, the property, through a series of perfectly natural steps, paused into the control of the Haughtons. Daniel Haughton, the - head of the family, was a man of great natural shrewdness and strength of .character. His two brothers, Jacob and Jehiel, were always associated with him; but, while 'his business proceedings were understood to, lie with their 'advice and consent, Darnel always had a sort of veto power over his brothers, and nothing was ever passed over hia veto. He is dead now, but the story of the way in which.he used to “consult his directors” is still told in Spindleville. One day a cotton broker called at the office of the mill of which Haughton was Treasurer, and offered him a big lot of cotton at a certain price. “This is so large a contract,”, said Haughton, “tha| T really oughtAo suit my directors about it. They’re inside, and I’ll just step in and consult them. ” Jacob and Jehiel were in the inner office. Daniel went in and explained the proposition to them and said: “Well, Brother Jacob, do you think" we had better bny that cotton?" “No, I don’t think wo had, Brother Daniel; not at that price.” “Well, Brother ’Hid, what do you think we had better do about it?” “I shouldn’t buy it, Brother Daniel; not by any means. ” ' “Oom!” saidJDaniel. Haughton went back to the outer offieer- -where the cotton broker was waiting; “Well, sir,” said he to the man, “I’ve consulted my directors, and I’ll .take the cotton at the price you named!” There is a story of a similar touch of nature in the case of the senior partner of the cotton-mills at, call it Boothby, Connecticut. After his death one of the executors found it necessary to consult some of the directors. He accordingly asked Mr. Parks what action the t)oard of directors were accustomed to take under certain circumstances. » “I do not know, ” said the director. “Why, yes,” said the puzzled lawyer, “you must be able to tell me something. A director for many years, you of course attended the meetings and assisted in the proceedings.” I Growing momentarily more embarrassed, the director leaned forward at last and frankly explained: “All true; I ought to know, but the fact is I usually got notice of a directors’ meeting the day after it had taken place!”— Exchange.

Bill Nye’s Advice to Lecturers.

Bill Nye, the humorist, was asked by a would-be lecturer for his advice on certain questions. Here it is: “You need not worry so much about your costume until you have written your lecture, and it would be a good idea to test the public a little, if possible, before you do much expensive printing. Your idea se.ems to be that a man should get a fine lithograph of himself and a SIOO-suit of clothes, and then write his lecture to fit the lithograph and the clothes. That is erroneous. “Yon say that you have written a part of your lecture, but do not feel satisfied with it. In this you will no doubt find many people who will agree with you. “You could wear a full dress suit of black with propriety, or a Prince Albert coat with your hand thrust into the bosom of it. *1 once, lectured on the subject of phrenology in the southern portion of Utah, being at that time temporarily-busted, but still hoping to tide over the dull times by delivering a lecture on the subject of ‘Brains, and How to Detect Their Presence.’ I was not supplied with a phrenological bust at that time, and as such a thing is almost indispensable, I borrowed a young man from Provost and induced him to act as bust for the evening. He did so with thrilling effects taking the entire gross receipts of the lecture from my coat-pocket while I was illustrating the effect of alcoholic stimulants on the raw brain of an adult in a state ofhealth. “You can remove spots of egg from vour full dress suit? with ammonia and water applied by means ®f common nail brush. You do not ask" Tor thisreqipe, but judging from your style I hope that it may be of use to you.”

Fish-Journeys by the Overland Route.

Strolling one day in what is euphemistically termed, in equatorial latitudes, “the cool of the evening, ” along a tangled tropical American field-path, through a low region of lagoons and water-courses, my attention happened to be momentarily attracted from the monotonous pursuit of the nimble mos- „ quito by a small animal scuttling along irregularly before me, as if in a great hurry to get out of my way before I could turn him into an excellent specimen. At ‘ first sight I took the little common, small green lizards, and wasn’t much disposed to pay it any distinguished share either of personal or scientific attention. But, as I talked on a little farther through the- dense underbrush, more and more of these shuffling and scurrying little creatures kept crossing the path, hastily, all in one direction, and all, as it were, in a formed body or marching phalanx. Looking closer, to my great surprise I found they were actually fish "out of water, going on a walking-tour, for a change of air, to a new residencegenuine fish, - a couple of inahes long each,-not eel-shaped or serpentine in outline, but closely resembling a red beautifully and delicately colored, and with fins and tails of-the most orthodox spiny and prickly description. They were traveling acrosa-cohntry in a beeline, thousands of them together, not at all like the helpless fish out of water of. popular imagination, but as unconcernedly find naturally as if they had been accustomed to the overland route for their whole lifetimes, and were walking now on the king’s highway withotre let or hindrance. —Popular Science Monthly. * ", I-' 3 — 1 ;—: “ i ' » :