Rensselaer Republican, Volume 18, Number 38, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 27 May 1886 — Page 2

SKAT WIFKOf MINK. n* XMt SM M Km door )M* BtgM, AU dainty, trash. and smiling, ■» ' And Uu*w her plump srms round me tight, In manner moat beguiling. Then tn her sweet. Impulsive way, She hugged mo, aa she Mseea me. And told me bow the livelong day She'd thought of me, and missed me. She helped mo off with coat and hat, And tad M atlU Into the dmiiMi nx-m.aadaSr . - - Down at Ute table singing. The meal waa perfect; fresh-cut floWra, The firelight warm and rosy. -a«a.'s?sis? Then, after dinner, she and I Bang the old songs together We need to sing in days gone by My heart waa like a feather I —“ Our happiness made earth a heaven. And now, aa I review it, I recollect 'twse past eleven . Almost before wo knew IL. We ant there on the sofa then. She nestling close beside me. Softly she smoothed iny hair, and when I kissed her did not chide me. She fondly pinched my cheek, and so. Her dimpled hand upon it, Ao whispered: “Darlinc, do you know , lured anew spring bonnet?" .7 1 JbmwTille Journal. wDKAJt MOTHKB'S GROWING OLD." A queer sensation 'tf* to mo— So queer it can't be told; And really feel that it may be: "Dear mother's growing old." These words tome from sister came, In writing round and bold; A world of ideas do they frame - "Dear mother s growing old. I eetsn to aee her old arm-chair, And 'cross the floor 'tie rolled; And picture her aa sitting there—- " Dear mother’s growing old.* H«r hair that once shone o'er her brow With hue of beaten gold Is getting white as driven snow—- " Dear mother's growing old." Her eyes they tell of weary daya And lines of core have hold; They say to me in many ways—- " Dear mother’s growing old.* Bar feeble strength and wav'ring hand Can scarce her work unfold; Tm far from her on foreign sea, And by its blue waves lolled; Those words indeed are sad to me—- • Dear mother's growing old.*

SOME DETECTIVE STORIES.

Tricks in Detecting Criminals The Importance of Trivial Clues. The writer spent several hours in a country inn with several detectives, and the foladventures are given just as nar“Luck has much to do with sucres*, toour profession,” said a short, thick-set man with iron-gray hair, as he tilted back against the wall. “Indeed, if you are following a blind trail you must depend upon luck to help you out A few years ago I was summoned by telegram to a small town in Ohio to take hold of a murder case. An old lady living alone on the outskirts of the town had been found murdered, but the crime had occurred at least two days before discovery. That robbery was the motive was proved by the fact that the house had been thoroughly ransacked. She w.as known to have had several hundred dollars in money and some valuable heirlooms, and everything had been taken. The search had been so thorough that it was likely the murderer had spent several hours to the house after his horrible deed. He had even taken the old woman's spectacles, snuff box, thimble, and other trifles of the sort; but he had come and departed without leaving a trace. “Well, the first inference was that he had oome and gone in the night. The next inference got me into trouble at once. The sheriff and constables and all the townspeople had made up their minds that the murderer was a young man named John Winthrop, the old woman’s nephew, who hung out around Cincinnati. It was known that he often appealed to her for money when hard up, and that only two or three weeks before the murder she had refused to advance him another dollar, and that he had gone away cursing her. *lt was a fair clue to work on, and I went to Cincinnati to work up John Winthrop. He could not be found, but I found friends of his who strengthened the case against him. The day previous to the murder he was hard up, and trying to borrow money. The day after the- murder he had plenty of money, and offered to lend some. He was a gambler, a rake, and all that was bad, and no one would be surprised to hear that he had committed murder. To still further strengthen the case, I discovered that he had been seen on the train running from Cincinnati to Blankville on the-after-noon of the murder. He was also known to have returned to Cincinnati on the morning after. Better clues could not be asked for, but, hunt as I would, I could not turn him up. He seemed to have dropped right out or the world. Bor six . weeks ! went up and down the country, seeking everywhere, but all in-vain.

“There was one thing in* the case which puzzled me. Why had the murderer packed up and carried away the trifling articles I have mentioned? A tramp wouldn't have done it; and what the nephew could want of them was more than I could understand. I had never met with anything like it in all my experience, and my mind was made up on the very start that the crime was the work of a lunatic. After iixor seven weeks of faithful work the case was practically abandoned. One day I was at the Air Line junction, a couple of miles north of Toledo, and among other people there, waiting for the train, was a lone woman about fifty years of age. As she sat reading her spectacles fell off, and one glass rolled out of the frame. It was my fortune to sit near her and to pick up the glasses. As I did so she said; “ ‘There they go again! I never saw such a pair of glasses in my life!' “ ‘The optician did not give vou a good fit,’l observed. “ ‘Oh, I didn't get ’em of an optician; I bought ’em of a stranger while I was traveling, but I was never bo cheated in my life.’

“ ‘Was it very long ago?’ “ ‘About three weeks.' “‘Here?* “ Oh, no. It was while I Was waiting at Monroeville. I had lost my glasses and was fretting about it, when the man asked me to try these. They seemed to tit nicely and I gave him a half a dollar for them.’ “I was breathing hard about that time, and it required a strong effort to control my voice as! said: ** ‘I think he was a cousin of mine. Can you remember his description?* “‘Certainly. He was a smallish man, having black hair and eyes, and he walked lame. On the back of hie right hand was an initial in India ink.* ' “ 'He’s the one, madam, and I’m sorry he eheated you. Let me give you thia two-dollar bill in exchange for the glasses.’ “Oh, thanks! thanks!’ “Well, I got away by myself to think. I had seen that man somewhere. Where was it? I began and followed my work all Over in my mind, but I could not locale him. It was midnight, and I was fifty miles away when I suddenly placed him. He was one of the jurors at the Coroner's inquest! Next day I was back in the vil-

lage where the murder bocurred. The spectacles Were identified by several of the neighbors, and when I came to make some cautious inquiries about the man I found him to be a worthless sort of fellow living a mile or so out of town, and making a poor living for himself and family by digging wells and doing odd jobs. It wag true‘that he was a juror on the inquest, and it was also true that he had been at Monroeville at the time named. r “I went alone to arrest him. I called at his house in the evening under pretense of engaging his services, and as he sat by his fireside, surrounded by his wife and children, I told him who I was, and charged him with the crime. He wilted like a weed in the sun as he comprehended what my words meant, but his wife was made of different stuff. An ax stood in a corner of the room, and she seised it and tried to Split my head open. I had just all I could do to put the handcuffs on her, and then 'she turned on her shivering busband, and reviled him until he stopped his ears to shut out her voice. He turned out to be a weak-minded fellow, and if' was plainly shown that she not only put up the job, but went with him to execute it. While he was searching for the money she packed up the other articles, even taking hair brushes, combe and towels. !She had braced him up to appear at the inquest, and he had come through it all unsuspected. While it was a clear case for the hangman. some quibble of law saved their necks, and both are now serving long sentences in prison." “And how about the nephew?" I asked, as he seemed to have finished, “Well, on the day of the murder he took the train, aa I have told you, but got off at a town below Blankville. There he fell in with some local sports and won about S4OO at poker that night. Upon his return to Cincinnati his life was threatened by a woman of the town for some grievance, and to be rid of her he made a clean jump to Nashville and was arrested there for gambling and sent to jail for three months under an assumed name.” “Yes, luck sometimes plays into a man’s hands in a strange way,” said another of the group as he elevated his feet a notch higher on the stove. “Two or three years ago one of the big distillers at Peoria, Illinois, was robbed of a goodly sum by his confidential clerk. I was sent down from Chicago to work up the case. The name of the clerk was Charles Allbright, and he was described to me as a dapper little fellow without beard, and a voice as soft as a woman's. His photographs showed him to be a pretty good looking fellow. The money had been drawn to make a purchase of grain. It was to have been paid out on that day, but was not called for, and the clerk gobbled it some time between 6 o’clock in the evening and 8 o’clock next morning. “The first move, as you will agree, was to ascertain what trains had left Peoria during this time and seek to find whidh one Allbright had taken. The place is quite a railroad center, but in one day I ascertained the thief had not left the town either on a freight or passenger train. Had he gone by the highway? I visited every livery stable, but got no trace of him. As a matter of fact, I was up a tree. He had gone, but how?

“After two whole days spent in fruitless search I grew desperate, took a train At a venture, and brought up in Decatur. On the train was a young lady whose home was at Decatur. As she bad several parcels with her 1 volunteered to help her off the car. As her feet touched the platform she tripped and fell, and the result was a broken arm. As none of her friends were there to meet her, it seemed to devolve upon me to call a carriage, summon a surgeon, and accompany her home. I found her to be the daughter of a wealthy widow having one or two other children, and their gratitude was such that I could not well avoid accepting an invitation to make the bouse my home for a few days. I had given out, you see, that I was a Boston lawyer looking up the titles to some real estate in Decatur.

“At breakfast we were waited upon by such a trim, tidy second girl that my atten'tion was attracted to her. The widow must have remarked it, for she exclaimed: * ‘lt is a new girl who has been with me but two days. She is very awkward, but seems willing to learn.’ “The girl was indeed awkward, as I afterward noticed, but the idea that she knew anything connected with the Peoria robbery never entered my head until the third day. I had been at the depot to make sotoe inquries about trains, and was leaving when I saw her enter the waiting room. She was closely veiled, but I knew her figure, and I reasoned she had given the widow very short notice. It was not imrissible that this new girl was a thief, and determined to speak to her and ascertain her reasons for leaving. As I started toward her she sprang np and rushed out doors. That was a sign of guilt which I could not disregard, and I gave chase. She led me a sham run for half a mile, and when I collared her she struck out from, the shoulder, and gave me a beautiful black eye. In return I put the handcuffs on her wrists, and they had scarcely snapped together when she said: -. “ ‘Well, old chap, I suppose the Jig is up. What kind of a second girl do I'make, anyhow?*

“ ‘You’ll come back to the house and be searched,’ not yet tumbling to it. _ “ ‘The house be d—d! I’ve got the money on me, of course, and of cbiirte I’ll. have to go back to Peoria. You don’t take me for a spoon thief, I hope?’ - - “It was Allbright, and no mistake. He had left Peoria in the evening disguised as a female, and his make-up and appearance were so deceiving that he had made two or three mashes before reaching Decatur. He knew that no effort would be spared to hunt him down, and he had the cheek to take employment as second girl, hoping to have a secure retreat until the hunt had grown eold. My -coming to the house was what had sent him away. He didn't believe I knew him, but he saw me watching him, and he argued that I would soon drop on his disguise." “Il wouldn’t be strange if luck had also helped me out occasionally, for I have been in this business over years, ” said the third man, as he combed his long goatee with his fingers. “One of the most striking instances occurred last fall. A rich old fellow named Sumner, living near Louisville, was found dead in his bed one morning. He had been married twice, and had two sets of you can readily understand what happened. It was known for a fact that he had made a wiU. It was a stranger fact that the will could not be found. The heirs taunted each other with having stolen the will, and pretty soon the law and the lawyers were called in

and there was a big fight over the estate, valued. I believe, at over $200,000. , One of the heirs by the first wife engaged my services in the case, He was sure that one of the heirs by the second wife, who was known to have visited the old man the day before bis death, had stolen and destroyed the will. As he could that the will left the bulk of the estate to the first set of children, his charge was a reasonable one, and J went to work to see what I could do. The alleged offender was a pretty hard case, and all the information I could acquire went to show that he was none too good to do a stroke of that sort. “I spent a month on the case without getting anything definite and then dropped it. The estate then went into court, each side retaining enough lawyers to eat up

I every dollar, and I took up the chaeo of a horse thief. He had stolen several horse* in Ohio and run them into Kentucky. Hit I headquarters were at Elisabethtown, and 1 . had been there for. a couple of weeks seek- 1 ing for the right clue to bring him up standing, when one afternoon I had to visit a farmer living several miles north of the town. This man had purchased one of the stolen horses and had it taken away from him, and was ready to give me all aid and information. After a talk at the house we went to the barn to look over his stock, and in the yard I noticed a tin-peddler's wagon with a wheel missing. “ ’I can't imagine what has become of the owner of that rig,’ explained the fanner. ’He broke down but here all of two months ago, and I let him draw his wagon in here and stare his hales of rags in the bam. He was to return in a day pr two, but he hasn’t shown up since.’ “As we went into the bam we passed six or eight sacks of paper rags piled up In a loose manner. There were a score or more of loose papers on the pile, and I picked up one, which proved to be a Confederate bond. I pocketed it as a relic, and picked up what I thought was another, but as I opened it out I read: ‘Last will and testafiient of James Yancy Sumner." It was the wiH'of the old man who had died near Louisville, and its production not only put an end to all further litigation, but brought me a reward of $3,000. 1 found the owner of the peddler’s outfit at Lebanon, which place was his home, and where he had been very ill of fever for many weeks. He had bought rags of the old man, and through some carelessness the will got mixed in.” There was still another detective in the group, and after a bit he began: “About two years ago I was at Stockton, Cal., to which place I had pursued an express robber from Madison, Wis. It was an old trail I had been following, and when I lost it entirely at Stockton I didn’t feel so badly put out as I should if there had been a fair show for me to overhaul the chap. I had a photograph of the man, and was posted as to certain points in his description. He had one front tooth which had been filled with gold; he stammered a little in his speech when confused; he was near-sighted. He had been gone from Stockton a full month when I reached there, and as there was no trace of the direction taken I gave up the hunt in disgust. When I got back to Omaha I had to take a man down to Topeka, Kansas, to see after an embezzlement, and on the night of my arrival I entered a bar-room in search of a Tom and Jerry. The barkeeper was leaning on the bar and reading a paper. The first thing I noticed was that he held the sheet close to his face. The first name of the robbej I had been chasing was George. As I advanced to the bar I said:

“ ‘Come, George, a Tom and Jerry.’ “I don’t know why I said it, but the speech was spontaneous, and was uttered before 1 really knew that I was speaking. “W-hat! W-w-hafs th-that?” he stammered, as he let the paper fall, and turned as white as chalk. “At the same instant I caught the gleam of gold in his teeth, and I put my hand on his shoulder and said: “George Johnson, you are my prisoner.’ ‘H-how d-did you f-ind me?” he queried, holding on to - prevent himself from falling. “Well, sir, he owned up like a little man, and held out his hands for the darbies. Out of the SB,OOO he stole I received all but SI,OOO. He went to Stockton, as I had trailed him, and after a day or two he disguised himself as a machinist and returned to the East, and brought up in Topeka. He had not purchased the saloon, not daring to use his money yet, but had got employment for a few days as a matter of&harity. In making the run back from California he had stopped off five different times and adopted new disguises, and he had no more idea of being arrested in Topeka than in Alaska. Of course, I didn’t admit that I had blundered in on him, and to this day he believes I trailed him step by step all those hundreds of miles. Yes, a detective to be lucky must count more or less on luck, and there goes midnight and it’s time we were in bed." —N. Y. Sun. -

If We Want to Work We Must Sleep. The restoration of energy, which sleep alone can afford, is necessary for the maintenance of nervous vigor, and whereas the muscular system, if overtaxed, at last refuses to cumstances too frequently refuses to rest The sufferer, instead of trying to remove or lessen the cause of his sleeplessness, comforts himself with the hope that it will soon disappear, or else has recourse to alcohol, morphia, the bromides, chloral, etc. Valuable and necessary as these remedies often are (I refer especially to the drugs), there can be no question as to the mischief which attends their frequent use, and there is much reason to fear that their employment in the absence of any medical authority is largely on the increase. Many of the “proprietary articles” sold by druggists, and in great demand at the present day, owe their efficacy to one or more of .these powerful drugs. Not a few deaths have been caused by their use. and in a still larger number of cases they have helped to produce the fatal result. Sleeplessness is almost always accompanied by indigestion in some one or other Of its protean forms, and the two conditions react upon and aggravate each other. If rest cannot be obtained, and if the vital machine cannot be supplied with a due amount of fuel, and, moreover, fails to utilize that which is supplied, mental and bodily collapse cannot be far distant. The details of the downward process vary, but the result is much the same in all cases. Sleeplessness ’and loss of appetite are followed by loss of flesh and strength, nervous irritability alternating with depression, palpitation and other derangements of the heart, especially at night, and many of those symptoms grouped together under the old term “hypochondriasis." When this stage has been reached “the borderlands of insanity" are within measurable distance, even if they have not already been reached. — Fortnightly llevieic.

A Remarkable Dog.

These was once a remarkable dog in Austin. It knew its master’s step and his habits and would never bite him. His owner loved him and said he would not take SSOO for him. One night his owner came home perfectly sober and tliree hours earlier than usual. The dog, not haring beep notified of this change in the programme, mistook him for an intruder and bft him in nine teen places. Next day the owner bad the dog executed by a policeman. All efforts to obtain a commutation failed, and yet it was a clear case of mistaken identity, and the dog had an unpracticed mind.—Texas Siftings.

A REBEL SPY’S SCHEME.

Playing Daaf and Dumb to Trick Hl* Guards. When Gen. Early made his great raid on Washington, writes an ex-rebel to the Detroit Free Prese, I was scouting between his advance and the city, and was captured within the city limits twenty-four hours before his battleflags appeared in sight I was dressed in citizen's clothes, pretended to be deaf and dumb, and claimed to have been driven out of , Richmond because I had written threatening letters to Jefferson Davis. I had been inside the fortifications for half a day, and was slowly working out, when a couple of young men, both of whom were considerably the worse for liquor, halted me and wanted to flght. I had a pencil and a block of paper with me, and I wrote: “1 am deaf and dumb. ” That made no difference with them. Indeed, they declared that it woiild be a novel idea to lick a deaf and dumb man, and one of them gave me a cuff on the ear.

In those days I weighed 160 pounds and had the muscle of a prize-fighter. I tried to get away from them without further trouble, but when they seemed determined to have a row I gave them all they wanted, and wasn’t many minutes about it. A crowd of soldiers and civilians collected, the provost guard came up, and the result was as I had anticipated. I was arrested and carried off te a guard-house. One of the young men, who afterward turned out to be related to a member of the Cabinet, followed me to the office of the provost marshal and charged me with being a spy. No one seemed to entertain a doubt that I was deaf and dumb, as I claimed, and my examination was carried on in writing. I was asked my name, age, where born, and a hundred other questions, and then searched. They found nothing of a criminating nature, and I reasoned that I would be detained until after the excitement had passed and then turned loose. After being detained three days an officer entered my quarters one morning and said to me: “Well, dummy, you can pack up and go out.” The minute I heard his step outside I was on my guard, but he spoke in such a natural tone that I came near giving myself away. On three different occasions during the war I played the part of a deaf and dumb man, and I tell you it takes all the nerve and presence of mind a man can call up. I sat facing the door, and, while I heard his words, I made no movement. He came closer to me and said:

“Come, pack up your traps; you are to be turned loose.” I looked him straight in the eye without winking, and after a bit a look of chagrin stole over his face and he motioned for me to follow him. He took me to the provost marshal’s office, and I was ushered into the private room, where the marshal and three or four other officials were seated. On the way to the office, as we crossed a wide street, the officer suddenly exclaimed: “There’s a runaway horse—lookout!” If I hadn’t been expecting some such tiling on his part I might have betrayed myself. As I gave no sign, continuing on with my head down, I heard him growling: “They think they’ve got a sucker, but they’ll find out their mistake. ” I entered the office knowing that every trick would be resorted to to break me down, and my nerves were braced as if to charge a battery of artillery. I was left standing by the door for a moment, when one of the officers looked up quietly and said: < “Take a seat, sir, and well attend to you in a moment.” I made no move, but I looked around the room in a stupid sort of a way. I was looking out of the window on to a roof when the same officer said: “You may come forward and take this chair.” I stoqd like a stone, and he rose up, came oyer to me, and led me to a chair at the table. When I was seated one of the others remarked:

“Write your name, age, and last place of residence on a slip of paper.” That was trick number three, and it failed, as the others had done. By and by the marshal wrote on. a slip of paper: “Who are you, and where are you from ?” I wrote in reply: “I am Charles Jones, of Richmond.” “But you are a Union man,” suggested one of the officers aloud. I saw his lips move, - but he got no sign from me. The examination continued in this manner for a full hour, the men using every artifice to trap me, but they failed to score a single point. I knew they would reserve the sharpest point for the last, and was therefore nerved up for it. At length the marshal pushed back in his chair, pointed his finger at my breast and angrily exclaimed : “Where did that Confederate button come from ?” It was another failure. Then he turned to his companions and said: “Gentlemen, it’s no use. The man is certainly deaf and dumb, and a d—d fool besides. ” “We have wasted our'time,” replied a second. “He is not only what he claims to be, but may be of great service to us. Rd have the officer take him over to the Secretary of War.” “I guess I will,” said the officer, and he rang a bell, and I heard a door open. Then he turned, to me, careless as you please, and said: “Go with the officer." It was their last shot. I never moved a muscle until the officer approached and placed his hand on me. I was taken back to the guard-house and kept a prisoner for another week, and then the disgusted marshal turned me loose in the streets. —_

The Importance of the Wet Nurse.

Anentthis subject of heredity: A lioness in Wombwell’s menagerie lately had two cubs, and one of them was transferred to a female dog and reared by her. The cub has lost all its mother’s ferocity and has developed the affectionate disposition of its wet nurse. This curious fact opens up a new field for investigation. Many of our hereditary legislators are exceedingly foolish persons. The son of a man raised to

““ "■* —— ■ J" i > the peerage on account of his business qualities generally gives himself up to pleasure and ignores business. Now, it would be interesting to know, in* such cases, whether the son had a wet nurse, and, if so, who his wet nurse was.— London Truth.

Envions Women’s Tongues.

If men talked of women as women talk of women, if men talked of men as women talk of women, we should have the early Florentine days back again, 'when every one carved up his dear friend before breakfast. So we quote the old London joke—Men’s (and women’s) coruew recti— the misapplication of the Hosier’s Latinity—as the text of a few remarks on one of the great social evils of the day, the slanders which women dare to propagate about women—a crime which is to the nineteenth century what poison was to the sixteenth. When men speak against women, they know well that, although the days of the duello are past, and perhaps no angry sword may leap from its scabbard, yet the horsewhip is not yet laid on the shelf, and that men have been severely furnished for allowing a word' to drop rom profane lips anent the honor of wife or sister. Men are also constitutionally cautious. A boy learns at school, by the vivacious instruction of a punched head, that he must be careful what he says, and he carries with him through life his sense of responsibility; but with women there is no such responsibility. A girl is praised for telling a story well, and she falls into the habit of amusing the company. A girl who has the fatal gift of imitation, and who can go through life with the power of awakening a laugh—perhaps at her dramatic comprehension of what is ridiculous in her friends, her talenbat reproducing a lisp or a stammer—is sure to be encouraged in this very dangerous abuse of power. Then the strife between women is very bitter—particularly amongst fashionable women—for the possession of the appearance of belledom.

Each woman wishes, such is the degradation of modern society, to be notorious, either for the excessive extravagance of her attire or the reputation oi a successful coquette. Envy is the natural follower of such ambition, and the business lof detraction begins. If there is a scandal started about a young and pretty woman, men smile and ask: “What woman startedit?” If there is an inuendo or a disagreeable name attached to unattractive woman, it generally comes from another woman. Society is full of this kind of M»it, as: Three plain women were once known as “Plague, Pestilence, and Famine”— too literal and descriptive for a masculine mot; two sisters, as “Scylla and Charybdis;” two others, as “Champagne, Sparkling and Extra Dry,” and so on—the list would be endless. These epithets adhere; they are of that small and vitiated currency that can be handed from hand to hand, receiving added soil from each not too clean receptacle. They do not injure character, but they do hurt sensitive feelings. Sometimes a perfectly gentle and good woman, the possessor of a fine voice or a fresh complexion, has s<? irritated a rival that she has been hounded to death by envious tongues. No one should be so weak as to care, but unfortunately, modest and gpod women are sometimes like the ermine, a stain means death. The only punishment which women of scandalous tongue receive is the one which is, after all, perhaps, the most severe. They grow people shun them; they are “left out. ” In one case in New York, where a vivacious lady had attacked the character of another, the attacked party went to the ferocious extent of summoning the scandal-monger to court, but agreed to withdraw her suit if the aggressor would write an apologetic note saying that she had manufactured the story. This was done, and the precious autograph lies open on the parlor table. It would be a golden day for society if women would guard their speech.— Boston Traveller.

The Girl We All Like.

“The plainest girl I ever saw was the favorite in my native town. Everybody liked her. Beautiful? O no, she is not beautiful—that is, outside; but inside she is an angel. Nobody thinks of calling her beautiful. Not one of a dozen can tell whether her eyes are black or blue. If you should ask them to describe her they would only say: ‘She is just right,’ and there it would end. She is a merry-hearted, funloving, bewitching maiden, without a spark of envy or malice in her whole composition. She enjoys herself, and wants everybody else to do the same. She has always a kind word and pleasant smile for the oldest man or woman; in fact, I can think of nothing she resembles more than a sunbeam, which brightens everything it comes in contact with. All pay her marked attention, from rich Mr. Watts, who lives in a mansion on the hill, to negro Sam, the servant. All look after her with an admiring eye- and say to themselves: ‘She is just the right sort of a girl!' The young men of the town vie with one another as to- who shall show her the most attention; but she never encourages them beyond being simply kind and jolly, so no one can call her a flirt; no, indeed, the young men all deny such an assertion as quickly as she. ” “Do girls love her, too?” I asked. “Yes, wonderful to relate, girls like her, too; for she never delights in hurting their feelings, or saying spiteful things behind their_ backs. She is aLways willing to join in their little plans and to assist them in any way. They go to her with their love affairs, and she manages adroitly to see -Willie or Peter, and drop a good word for Ida or Jennie until their little difficulties are smoothly again, thanks to her. Old ladies say is .‘delightful.’ The sly witch, she knows how to manage them. She listens patiently to complaints of rheumatism or neuralgia, and then sympathizes with them so. heartily that they are more than half cured. n —Eli Ferkins.

The man who will not carry out his resolutions when they are fresh upon him can hardly have hope from them afterwards. t

Col. Donan Struek at Last.

My exquisite Angehciana! Her face, her form! Get out, Raphael 1 Hoot, Angelo! Scat, you Titian! You may daub on canvas, and hammer and peck on rock, till your esophagusea turn to bamboo fishing poles, till your hair turns to feathers, and your nails to pruning hooks, and your best performapce will look, beside her, like a painted Jezabel beside a Madonna, like dogfennel beside a lily or an orange blossom. Her face, her face and form! Out with you, Venus of Medici! Get down in the dust and be ashamed of yourself. You are pretty good looking, but you can’t come in. Complexion as fair as the dawn of a summer morning v —lilies and roses and peach bloom combined! Eyes that drive the stars of heaven blind with envy. Lashes more gloriously silken than ever fringed the lids of Oriental houri. Hair in which ten thousand clouded sunbeams seemed 1 to nestle, darkly bright, wavy as the tresses of the tasseled corn, fine as gossamer threads, but forming a network which scores of masculine strugglers have found strong as the green withes that bound Delilah’s Samson. Her eyes, her eyes! Oh, Cupid, you little cuss, you may as well throw away your arrows, and’ break your bow. Your day is over. Go to killing frags for a living. Y*bur sharpest darts are as blunt as a kangaroo’s tail, or an average Senator’s wits. Slink off, you little gizzardsplitting imp, slink off, and shut yourself up in a cabbage-head. Her eyes, her glorious eyes! Sneak into your holes, you little twinkling stars; go into your holes and pull your holes in after you. Never, never dare to try to sparkle or glitter again. Pull the blue gingham apron of the sky over your ?ale, dim little phizzes, and keep dark. bu can shine only when her eyes are veiled. Oh, her eyes, her eyes! Mother of Judas! I am, yes, yes, Pm struck! Struck by a radiant and royal little damsel who won’t be my valentine. And then her hand I That tiny, tapering, queenly little manus. Fo/iped to do acts of love, and to render them ten-fold sweeter by coming from such a source. That fairy hand—formed to cling to a manly arm, and to nerve it by the electric touch to do deeds of deathless heroism and devotion; formed to clasp in sweetest prayer that ever angel stooped from heaven to hear. That witching hand—that index to point my soul to glojry or despair—it haunts me, haunts me, still. Oh, that I were her dainty kid, or rat or dog skin glove that I might press those finger tips forevermore. Ah-ah-ah, her waist! Sylphlike, slender. Oh, tell me not of wasp or fairy! Her waist, comely as a lime tree among the rough oaks, surpasses far in delicacy that j>f any wasp that ever hung nest upon elm—of any fairy elf that ever tripped it to the music of midnight moonbeams tricking through the dark orange groves in fair Seville or Italy. And oh-oh-oh, her foot! Her high-born, arched, ecstatifying little foot! Modesty, bashfulness, sheepfacedness, preserve me. I faint, I faint! I’m struck, oh, I’m struck! Struck by a cruel, coquettish little damsel who won’t be my valentine. The daintiest, ravishingist, enchantingist of pedals terrestiah In visions of the night, before my moonstruck eyes, float in mazy dance, a long, unceasing whirl of tipy gaiter boots. I’m bewitched, I-’m be-gaiter-booted. Oh, star of the stricken-hearted, beam softly down upon me! For I’m struck! Hurlyburly, ringed, streaked and striped state of pleasure and pain, of bliss and anguish, of uncertainty and of doubt, contradiction and truth, despondency and hope, of ecstasy and k of despair, I endure thee. For I’m struck! Oh, chambermaid of J uno! I’m struck! Stru-uck! Stru-u-ck by a remorseless, flirty, peerless young damsel, who won’t be my valentine, and the first six letters of her name are—; bnt“ I hardly think I’ll tell.—P. Donan, in Bloomington 'Eye.

Savage Map Makers.

In the collection recently taken to Denmark from the east coast of Greenland by Capt. Holm are several objects that have excited the astonishment of several European geographers. They are maps made by the natives. The maps are. made by their rude cut- . ting implements on * boards that drifted ashore. They were found among the natives who live along the shores of a deep fiord near the most northern point attained by Holm. Only ten or twelve of these 400 people have ever visited the Danish settlements in South Greenland, owing to a stretch of glaciers and ice-fields which have so nearly isolated them from the world that their existence was not known until recently. They had never seen a white man until Holm and Dr. Knutzen came among them. Some of these curious maps, Capt. Holm says, represent quite accurately the contour of the coast, with all its many big and little indentations, along which they live. Other maps give the outlines of islands lying near the coast, and the explorers say the maps reproduce the shape of the islands with a good degree of fidelity. The existence of these maps among a savage and almost unknown people has aroused much interest, and some geographers have expressed the opinion that they were not the work of the East Greenland natives. Mr. HansenBlangsted, for instance, suggests the theory that some survivor from the ship Ldlloise, which years ago started for East Greenland and never returned, may have lived and died on the coast at Angmagsalik flord, and that he may have made these maps. This suggesknown that the Esquimaux have more talent for cartography than is often found among untutored savages. Dr. Hall, for instance, in his explorations north of Hudson Bay found one or two of the jrude native charts of a part of that region somewhat serviceable, and at leastoneof them has been reproduced in the report of his work published by the United States government:

God is absolutely good, and so as> suredly the cause of all that is good, but of anything that is evil he is no cause at all'— Sir Walter Raleigh.