Rensselaer Union, Volume 7, Number 15, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 31 December 1874 — Page 3

RENSSELAER UNION. . JAMES * HEALEY, Proprietors. RENSSELAER, - INDIANA.

THE LADY'S GIFT. “ Oh, give me something, lady ! For I have given my neart— A trifle to replace it When we are far apart.” A rosebud wet with dew, And gave it to him, saying: Here's something, sir, tor you," “ I take it, and will keep it, ■ For never lady wore —„ ——. ■ A flower so pure and perfect— But you must give me more!” “ I have no more to give, sir; A simple maid like-me,—• i Who has nor birth nor fortune. What should she have?’’ said she. " But you have gold,”.he answered; j<o lady,in the land So rich a dower.” ‘-What is it!” " The ring upon your hand ?” She slipped from off her finger The little ring she wore. “ I take it, and will wear it— Bat you must give me more! " What more have I to give you? _ Why eive you anything? You bad my rose before, sir. And now you have my ring,” “ You have forgotten one thing.” “ I do not understand.” ", The dew goes with the rose-bud, And with the ring the hand!” She gave her hand; he took it, .. And kissed it o’er and o’er: “ I give myself to you, love: I cannot give you more!” —lt. 11. Stoddard.

MARRIAGE BY ADVERTISEMENT.

“I wonder,” exclaimed Nina Fitzgerald, “ whether these advertisements are real, or only nonsense?” “ What advertisements?” asked a goodlooking young gentleman. “ Why, this;” and she read as follows: Matrimony.—A gentleman, widower, aged 40, with a nice homo,’alßtr a go off business in the city, would like to correspond with a lady with means. Address XY Z, 292 James street, city. “Oh! A lady with means, is it, he wants? Then it’s bona fide- enough, I warrant.” “But surely, George, no woman would be such a fool as to marry a man in this way,” pursued Miss Fitzgerald. “ Can’t say. Women are foolish, enough for anything. Rise at any fly,” he replied. Indeed, I don’t believe there is a single man in your regiment that is not a fool, and I have seen the whole of them.” ■ obliged to you, I’m sure, for the compliment, my fair cousin; but to return to where we left off. Do you suppose that if I put an advertisement in the papers for a wife that I shouldn’t have a hundred young women answering it?” “ Not one!” cried Nina, with decision. “But perhaps if I, that is to say, a woman, advertised it would be a different thing.” “ Well, Nina, you are pretty enough, no doubt, to go in and win,” said the young Lieutenant of Hussars, looking up from his silk, feathers and tinsel at her face. “ I have a great mind to try,” she retorted, saucily. “Suppose we have a bet about it?” “What would my respected pater say to that?” said he, with mock gravity. “Just after paying off my debts on the promise that I would never bet again.” “ Oh, gloves, you know. Uncle George would not mind that; besides, betting with a lady counts for nothing.” “ I am very glad to hear it, for Jouvin could hardly supply half of all I owe to your sex; but 1 thought that Mrs. Villiers had put book-making under the ban for you too, Nina. I know she was complaining of your extravagance only the other day.” Now Mrs. Villiers was a distant connection of the Fitzgerald family and very rich: She had neither chick nor child of her own and had adopted Nina a few years before on the death of that young person’s mother. “ I wish you would have done with those tiresome flies,” cried Nina after a pause. “Where are you going to fish?” “ In Wicklow, next week, I hope.” I “But you are coming with us to the band this evening?” “ Certainly, my dear, if you wish it.” “ Don’t ‘my dear’ me, George; you know I hate it.”

When Mrs. Villiers, with Nina and George Fitzgerald, joined the throng the band of the Duke’s Own Hussars was playing joyous music and the crowd had increased to what was almost a crush. Mrs. Villiers was dressed somewhat extravagantly. She was a little “ squab” woman of forty-five years of age or upward, who sought to make herself look like thirty and failed signally in the effort. She wore a quantity of false ringlets and her face was rouged, but she did not look young for all thaLnot even though her vivacity was thaT of some young thing in her second season and striving to appear “ fast” as a bait for tire military. Itrwas true that she was eccentric—the uncharitable said mad —but what is eccentricity, after.all, but genius, when combined with wealth and influence? It used to be an amusement of George and Nina Fitzgerald to ridicule in secret the persons composing Mrs. Villiers’ court, and certainly it was very absurd to observe the various methods by which they sought to ingratiate themselves in the favor of their patroness, as well as the jealousy every one of them exhibited toward his fellow. As for Mrs. Villiers herself, although she treated the train with as much contempt as if it) was composed of dogs, she could not possibly exist without it from habit and long custom. “George! George!” exclaimed this bustling little lady. “ George, I see your father yopder alone. Go say I desire to see him." Fitzgerald simply shrugged his shoulders while talking with liis cousin. He had a great dislike to be singled out for the imperious display of Mrs. Villiers, so he affected not to mind her in the slightest degree. The little lady frowned and might, perhaps, have made some serious remark, only that Mr. Fitzgerald, Sr., happened to join her party of his own free-will at this moment, and with the air of a beau of the last century. “ Heh! Mrs. Vilfiers, looking as charming as ever," said the old beau, with a flourish of his hat, as he approached her. “ And I may return the compliment, Mr. Fitzgerald; you grow younger every dav." The old fellow made a grimace at this reference ,to bis age. “ It is the sight of you, Mrs. Villiers — it is the sight of you that does it,” he said, “Look at the. governor,” said George the younger to Miss Nina, “he is as full of rheumatism as an egg is,full of meat;

and look at the whi,te trowsers and the white waistcoat.and patent-leather shoes. One ■would suppose he was going a-court-ing.” Nina laughed. \ “ “ No, no, I don’t believe that of Uncle George. He is about as likely to marry again as my aunt, and that’s the same as saying that he never will.” “I don’t know that. Some women never get matrimony out of their heads. By the way, Nina, about that advertisement. Suppose we make it out to-mor-row?” | •> Very well. Come over to lunch, but don’t let aunt know, or she wotfld certainly be very angry.” “ Never fearj we will keep it all to ourselves.” It .was agreed between .George and Nina the next day that they should each write an advertisement according to their own taste—George appealing to the ladies and Nina to the gentlemen. The young Hussar, after considerable labor, produced the following: Matrimony—A gentleman of large fortune, young and highly accomplished, desires to meet with a lady not under thirty years of age, with a view to matrimony. She must be handsome and vivacioas. but money is not of any consequence. Address. in the first instance, Adonis, care of Here followed the name, street sad number of Mr. Fitzgerald’s Dublin bootmaker, a character in his way, and a person to be intrusted with the secret of the bet Nina’s advertisement ran as follows: Matrimony.—A young lady, possessed of extraordinary personal attractions, and a large in come derived from a coal-pit, desires to meet with a gentleman of good birth, and of domestic habits and tastes, with a view to the above. Age or income a matter of indifference to the advertiser, a cheerful and happy home being rather the object of this advertisement than anything else. Address, in the first instance, to Lady Jane, care Of Madame .

Here there was the name of a dressmaker with whom Miss Fitzgerald had occasional monetary transactions, and a person in whom she had every confidence for discretion. Like all idle men, •George Fitzgerald affected to be overwhelmed with business. It was nearly a week after this that, her cousin having meanwhile returned to Dublin, Nina w r as able to gratify her curiosity regarding the matrimonial correspondence. To her own great disappointment, and much to George’s surprise, there was only one reply to each, instead of some thousands, as they expected. Nina opened hers first, read a long epistle, evidently written in a feigned hand. Some of the letters seemed turned upside down in the writer’s efforts to preserve his incognito. It was only "with much labor the cousins could decipher the man’s meaning, which was this; „ — —— Correspondent,” it stated, “ had read with a tender interest the advertisement of ‘ Lady Jane,’ and had felt impelled to answer it from the conviction that he was eminently fitted to respond to that lady’s overtures. Correspondent,” the letter went on to say, “ was a trifle over thirty, and possessed of a comfortable income. His habits were peculiarly domestic, and he was passionately fond of children. His personal appearance was prepossessing. He had blue eyes and a straight nose, and a good mouth and teeth. (He never smoked.) His forehead was lofty, and his hair curled naturally. Its color was a rich brown. He was above the middle height, and of a fine athletic figure, and he was possessed of many useful and agreeable accomplishments in, it might be, the flattering estimation of his friends. He was of an ancient Irish family,. and bis ancesters could be traced back to the Phoenicians, if not farther. He was possessed of a good town-house, and every qualification necessary to render a woman happy.” Nina Fitzgerald went into fits of laughter over this precious epistle, while George grinned his appreciation of its egotism over her shoulder. The letter concluded with “ the respectful but eager request that the fair advertiser would speedily appoint a time and place for the formation of a personal acquaintance that it was hoped and presumed would lead to the bliss of wedded life, and an interchange of thought and sentiment.” “ What does that mean?” said George. “However, here goes for the lady!” And he opened his letter, which was on pink paper, highly perfumed. “ More-disguise!” he remarked, at a glance. •This is evidently written with the left hand, and looks li|e one’s first copy-book." • “It’s very round and easy to read, though,” observed Nina, who was now on tiptoe behind her cousin, the better to peruse its contents. This letter was in much the same style as the. other. “ Ariadne,” as the lady subscribed herself, freely admitted the attractiveness of the advertisement signed “Adonis,” and felt impelled likewise to answer it from an idea that she could meet all its requirements. She was not under thirty, she wrote, but she did not say what her age precisely was, nor did she allude to her income. But in compensation for this she filled three pages crossed with information as to her beauty and vivacity, which, if correct, would have rendered her a sort of amalgamation of Madame de Stael and the Venus de Medici. Her portrait had been painted by O’Flannigan, of the Hibernian Royal Academy, and had been exhibited at the Exhibition, where it had “ enjoyed the distinguished consideration of notice and remark from His Excellency the Lord-Lieutenant and the Countess of Mangelwurzelshire. Her conversaziones had been attended by “ the celebrated wits of the Irish Bar,” and “by men distinguished in science, literature and art." She “ disclaimed the character of a bluestocking, but cared little for frivolous amusements suited only to school-girls and chatter-boxes.” “Ariadne” wound up with a hint that if “ Adonis” named a suitable time and place she might contrive to see and' be seen “ without affronting the conventionalities of good society.” “Well, what do you think of that?” asked George, folding the letter, which he put in his pocket. “ The thing now is to bring them together.” “But there may be more coming, George,” said Nina, hopefully. “So there may, but in the meantime why separate these two fond hearts?” “ Oh, decidedly not! I should give anything to see the meeting. Would the Zoological Gardens do?” “Capital! A happy thought!” exclaimed Fitzgerald. “And we will make the trysting-place the bear's den. In accordance with this arrangement letters were written to Adonis and Ariadne appointing three o’clock in the afternoon of the following Friday as. the time, and the wooden bench nearest, to the brown bear’s den on the right hand side facing the lake as the place of meeting. % Both letters were deposited by George Fitzgerald with the boot-maker and milliner above menticned, from whom George endeavored to extract

some information regarding his correspondents. But they had none to give. Crispin could only say that Ariadne’s note had been left by a small boy, who said he had received a shilling from a lady to take it to that address and to say jfliat she would send again in the course of a few days for a reply. The milliner’s explanation was that a commissionaire brought the letter of Adonis froiu a military club, but that he did not see the gentleman who sent it, as it had been delivered to him by the club porter. “Funny, this!” thought George. “They are determined to keep the affair dark but we will let the light in on it presently. Patience till Friday, patience!” The milliner was, on her part, very curious to learn all she could from Fitzgerald about what was going on, but did not obtain very much satisfaction from that gay young officer. “lam sure, Captain Fitzgerald,” said she, “ it’s not marriage in joke but marriage in earnest we’ve been looking for between you and Miss Nina, the handsomest, sweetest, charmingest young lady in all Dublin at this minnit.” Although the milliner called herself “ Madame,” she spoke no French or English, but, in fact, Irish. “You compliment us both, madame,” said George. “ Whist now, Captain, and be aisy wid ye. Shure they all say that Miss Nina will have an illigant fortune from Mrs. Villiers.”

“I am not that lady’s lawyer, so cannot say. Good-by, madame,” and gayly resisting her entreaties to stay “ an’ chat” Fitzgerald made his escape into the street and, hailing a car, drove off to the barracks in a rather moody disposition that day. -1 ’ On this particular Friday there happened to be a review of troops in the Phenix Park, close by, that proved more attractive to the idlers than wild beasts, and the gardens were, comparatively speaking, empty when George and Nina Fitzgerald entered them. The cousins rode to the gates and left their horses in charge of some ragged hangers-on of equestrians; then they walked down to the bear’s den, Nina a little nervous, but full of expectation of the scene she was to witness. George looked at his watch and found that it wanted ten minutes of the time, which he employed in selecting a secure position for himself and cousin behind some dense laurestinas close to the den. He could not have found a better place for his purpose, for it commanded the bench, which was not out of ear-shot, and yet it was at the same time so well concealed in foliage that no one would have suspected the eavesdropper, or thought of looking for one there. Three o’clock passed, and five minutes more in this state of agony of suspense, and George was thinking of going home *when a step was heard coming down the winding walk, the step of a man, and the cousins peered anxiously out of the bushes.

“Halloo! Why, here’s the governor!” said George, almost aloud, in the excess of his surprise. “ What on earth can the old boy be doing down here?” “Uncle!” exclaimed Nina, at the same time disappointed. —lt is very awkward; he will certainly drive our friends away; besides, if he was to discover us here!” and she blushed at tbe notion. “By Jove! that would never do,” observed George, in 40 little alarm. Meanwhile Mr. Fitzgerald, senior,’ strolled jauntily down the path, twirling a cane with one nicely-gloved hand and arranging his wig with the other. He was dressed, as usual, with great care, and was so padded and squeezed by his tailor and valet that at a distance he might have well passed for a man of flve-and-twenty. It was only when one detected the brown wig and false teeth, and the wrinkles so carefully disguised on his old visage that speculation as to his age became impossible. Somqwhat to the relief of his son and niece— perdus in tlur bushes —he passed the bench without even glancing at it, and walked to the bear’s cage, where he was saluted with a rumbling growl that seemed to come from the depths of its occupant’s stomach. The two cousins were so intent on watching his movements that they never noticed a new arrival upon the scene; but at length Nina, happening to look reiind, could scarcely suppress a scream on seeing her aunt seated on the bench. “ George! George! aunt! aunt!” -was all she could stutter under her breath, and it is almost needless to say that if George was agitated by the presence of his father, he was now ten times more so by the near proximity of a lady to whom it would be impossible to explain the anomalous situation in which he found himself. It was in Vain that the cousins cudgeled their brains to account for the presence ot Mrs. Villiers in such a spot. That Mrs. Villiers should choose to come and walk all alone in the,Zoological Gardens in a blue silk dress, and a bonnet adorned with rose-buds, was a circumstance so astonishing that Nina half forgot her fright in admiration of her aunt’s toilet. Not so our gallant young Hussar. That officer tried to make himseflf as small as-possible—bykneeling on the hard clods-in the shrubbery, and in this attempt he made such a rustle that his father threw a stone at him, supposing, no doubt, that he was a goose, or some of the water-fowl that had strayed off the lake. The stone rattled among the branches within a foot of young George’s head, and. he was expecting another when haply his parent observed the lady on the bench, and approached her with much caution. The old beau was a wag in his way, and perhaps thought to surprise Mrs. Villiers, for he took off his hat and ran his fingers through his wig, then placed the hat behind his back and stole toward her upon tiptoe so carefully as hardly to crush a daisy in his stealthy approach. “ He is going to blindfold her with his hands,” whispered Nina. “ And kiss her if she can’t tell who he is,” answered George in the same tone. And apparently, if this was his design, the old beau must be successful, for the lady on the bench never moved, but sat with her face to the lake and her back to the den reading a book under the shade of her-parasol. She seemed quite unconscious of everything going on in the background, and her start was quite natural when “Old George,” with bated breath, laid his hand on her shoulder, and peered under her parasol. Start! did we say? This is no adequate expression for what occurred. Those who have seen Sir Roger de Coverley dance boisterously in the servants’ hall, or two bill-iard-balls caroming, the one oft the other, may have some faint idea of the manner in which Mrs. Villiers rebounded, so to say, off Mr. Fitzgerald, who; for his part, staggered back as if shot, dropping his hat in his confusion. For a moment they stood staring ai. each other, the bench between them, and then the lady spoke. “ Why, Mr. Fitzgerald, what in the

name of everything surprising are you doing here?” “ What am I doing here? Y’ou ask me what I am doing here?” he stammered. “ Well, I came to see the bear.” “To see the bear!” repeated Mrs. Villiers in unaffected surprise; “surelyyou are jesting. ” “ Not at all. In fact, he is an old friend; quite an old friend, I may say. But, my dear Mrs. Villiers, may I put a similar question. What fitought you here?” “Oh! I was driving through the park, and I thought it looked so pleasant and cool under the trees that I might as well read away an hour here, so camq in, and here I am, you see." “Old George” coughed dubiously as she offered to make room for him beside her, but he sat down nevertheless in obedience to her gesture to do so. “Well, I say, this is a go!” whispered George to Nina. “How long are they going to sit there? Ah, my poor knees!” “Doyou know what, George; I’m beginning to suspect.” “ Oh! you are, are you? What?” “ That you and I have made a mess of it.” “Tell us something new,” he whispered. “That we have got hold of the righ parties and the wrong parties in one.” “ How enigmatical you are!” “ You stupid fellow, can’t you see what I mean?” “No, that I can’t.” “ Why, that Uncle George and Aunt Villiers are Adonis and Ariadne!” “Nonsense! It can’t be!” whispered he, aghast. , “It looks very like it. That’s all I can say!” And after a pause George was obliged to confess that it did look very like it — very much indeed. “ It’s a sweet spot this,” observed Mrs. Villiers meanwhile, in the hearing of the conspirators. “Do you frequently come here to see your old friend the bear?” “About as often as you do to-read,” retorted “ Old George,” rather gruffly. In fact, he was just then thinking that he was cutting a rather ridiculous figure on the scene, and the more he thought of it the less he liked it.

“ I believe George and Nina are in the park to-day,” observed Mrs. Villiers. “By the way, you have not told me any thing lately about that projected match for vour boy.” “What? Mrs. Mustard? Anyjman but a fool, as that boy is, would have had the widow long ago. Fifteen hundred a year, all her own, to do what she likes with, and not a bad-looking woman either.” Here Nina drew herself a little away from George, and Mrs. Villiers looked round at the noise. “ What’s that?” she asked. “Some bird or brute,” replied the father, carelessly. “I threw a stone in. there just now.” “ Indeed it is time that George was settled in life,” said Mrs. Villiers, languidly. “And Nina too; don’t you think so?” “Certainly. Have you thought of a parti?" . “ Yes; there is Mr. Bogie; for instance; an excellent man.” Young George rustled here, and again Mrs. Villiers cast her eyes toward the shrubbery. “Bogie! the dissenting minister from the North? Never do, never do for such a girl; but there is the Count De Crepites, now— —” “ A card-sharper, and as old as the hills,” rejoined Mrs. Villiers, indignantly. “ Not so, but an excellent whist-player and a fine income,” cried “Old George.” “ This is pleasant,” whispered Nina, in the bushes, hysterically, “ isn’t it?” “ Very much so;” answered the Hussar, coldly, for he was feeling jealous. “At one time,” observed Mrs. Villiers, “ I thought Nina was inclined to encourage Mr. Bogie, but no doubt your son laughed her out of an excellent match and a most worthy man. Sometimes, Mr. Fitzgerald, my conscience reproaches me for allowing- them to go about so much together.” “No fear, ma’am, no fear whatever. My boy does not care a farthing rushlight for the girl; told me so himself.” At this insult Nina moved so hastily away from her cousin, who was supporting her with his arm, that the noise was considerable. “ Old George” turned round, and Mrs. Villiers handing him a large clod which lay at her feet he threw it into the bushes, covering the cousins with dirt and gravel, and causing a small hail-storm to fall in the branches. “ It is shameful this! to be pelted with stones and clods by one’s own governor,” said the Hussar, with indignation. “ And to have one’s aunt handing the missiles,” whispered Nina, between laughing and crying. “See! there is ever so much mud in my eye.” While her cousin was silently trying to extract this with his handkerchief the elders resumed their conversation. “ It is nothing, after all," observed Mrs. Villiers; “ only a blackbird, perhaps.” —“No, no,” continued the old beau, “ George has his faults, but love for his cousin is not one of them. But he is a good-looking fellow; very fair chip of the old block, eh ? and a girl mighteasily be taken with him.” “Not Nina," replied Mrs. Villiers, “I think. She has often spoken to me of George as a feather-pated good fornothing, unworthy the consideration of any sensible woman.” This was indeed true, but Nina had so spoken only to mislead her aunt. She could now hardly dare to meet her cousin’s indignant gaze, but sat cowering and blushing with downcast head on the clods and rubbish. “ Besides," continued Mrs. Villiers, “ it would be quite impossible for the two to marry, since Nina can hhve nothing but what I choose to give her.” “Old George” was silent for a little, but after a pause he said: _ “And if it’s notan indiscreet question, Mrs. Villiers, how much might that be?” “ No, no, Mr. Fitzgerald, only my lawyer is acquainted with ,my affairs; but you need entertain no doubts of my solvency.” “Never! Such a thought never <enmy head for one moment. Ah, Mrs. Villiers, I wond* r what brought you here to-day?” “ My carriage.” “ My dear creature, now shall I tell you a secret* It was and so saying “ Old George” audaciously placed an arm round the widow’s waist, offering her a letter with the other hand. Nina looked impressively at young Fitzgerald. “ Did I not say so?" she whispered. “Ay, indeed; a nice hash we have made* of the whole business,” said he, biting his lip angrily. “Hush!” whispered Nina. “Listen to what aunt says.” , “ And is it possible that you are

Adonis?" observed Mrs. Villiers, with a laugh. “As sure as you are Ariadne,” he* replied, ’with emphasis. “But, excuse me, you are not, you know, so young as this advertisement sets forth.” ,“My dear madam,” replied “Old George,” slyly, “neither are you.” “ I said I was not under thirty, which is the truth,” she said, hastily. “Thirty!” groaned young Fitzgerald in the bushes. “Fifty!” “Youth is not essential to a happy home, however,” observed “ Old George,” “ and that, you say, was your object in advertising. ’Pon my word, my dear, I think I could make you a very happy home. Now what do you thins ?” He took the widow’s hand betw’een his own here, and patted it tenderly. “ Btttwhy did you adopt so , unprecedented a course as to advertise for a wife?” asked the lady. “Of course we are too old to talk nonsense about love, but surely you might have said all this without putting it in the paper first.” “My dear, I never put an advertisement in a paper in my life; I only answered yours when it appeared, you see.” “ Strange!” observed Mrs. Villiers, re flectively; “ the same thing occurred with me. I only answered yours. I fear, my good friend, that we are the victims of a hoax.” “Hoax! Let me see the man that dared to hoax me,” cried “ Old Gedrge,” in a rage. “ Only let me catch hold of him. But no, there can be no hoax; the aflair j-esolves itself into a coincidence, that’s all, a coincidence, and, permit me to think, a fortunate one.” So saying, “ Old George,” having first put his hand to his mouth, to see perchance if his teeth were in their places, deliberately kissed Mrs. Villiers, staidly, and with a good deal of smack. Now it was at this very moment of all others that young Fitzgerald, in agony from the acute pain produced by a sharp stone he was kneeling upon, withdrew his support for a second from Nina. The latter lost her balance, and, her feet catching in the skirts of her habit, she fell forward among the branches, producing no little noise in her fall. The elderly lovers on the bench jumped out of their tender embrace with wonderful alacrity, Mrs. Villiers leaning against a tree with covered face and in great agitation, while “ Old George,” shaking his cane in a threatening manner, approached the covert. .

“ Take care!” exclaimed Mrs. Villiers at this juncture; “it may be your friend the bear got loose.” “ Old Geerge” paused. He was not deficient in courage, but it might be a wild animal, and he had only a walkingcane. At this moment, struck by a happy thought, his dutiful son in the bushes gave vent to a growl so ominous that “ Old George” stepped back a few paces in alarm, -while Mrs. Villiers fairly ran ♦way down the walk, screaming as she went. Fitzgerald, who had been a promising pupil of a professional gentleman who could imitate all the animals of the farmyard, improved the occasion to send a parting growl after her, and with such effect that 11 Old George” too fairly turned tail, and with, as his «on remarked, “ small blame to him.” “But we must get out of this«at once, Nina,” he said, “ for there is the governor roaring for the keepers, and they will be down directly. Hark to him ! ‘ The bear is loose! the bear is loose! take care of yourselves!’ Just what we will do, my pater.” He scrambled out of his uncomfortable Sosition without loss of time, and with Tina. They hurried away in the opposite direction until they got well out of sight, when they climbed the terrace and walked unconcernedly to their horses. On the way they passed a number of gardeners and keepers, armed with scythes and pitchforks, making toward the bear’s den, and as they cantered by Uy the Constabulary Barracks they saw a detachment of police getting quickly under arms for the purpose of shooting poor Bruin. Of Mrs. Villiers or “ Old George” they saw nothing, and did not stay to inquire as to their whereabouts. “ Dear aunt,” said Nina, a few days after these occurrences, “ I love George Fitzgerald.” “Hoity-toity! is the girl mad?” cried Mrs. Villiers. “ Love in a cottage, indeed!” “ But you will give us an income, aunt; for you are a dear, good, kind aunt,” said Nina coaxingly. “ That I won’t, not one penny!” “What, aunt! Not if I tell the bear in the Zoological Gardens?” said Nina archly. Mrs. Villiers changed color and left the room abruptly. * The same day young George was walking down Kildare street with “ Old George” arm in arm. “ Sir,” said the young gentleman, “ I am going to marry my cousin!” “The deuce you are!”’cried “Old George,” stopping short. “ Not if I know it. “You shall marry Mrs. Mus•tard or no one.” “ See here, sir!” said the sori decidedly, “ if you don’t approve of the match I’ll complain to the bear in the Zoological Gardens.” A —— “ Old George” stared at his son aghast. Then he darted into his club with an agility surprising for one of his years. There were many cogitations between Mr. Fitzgerald and Mrs. Villiers after this, and much business with lawyers, but it all ended in the marriage of the cousins, xtho went to India upon a comfortable income allowed them by “ Old George” and Mrs. Villiers. For these two also became one some!' time afterward, to the ampsement of all their friends, and as George the younger wrote home from Huggermugger, in the East Indies, “If Urso Major did not smile on their nuptials he should have done so.” To which “ Old George” retorted “ that he found less of the bear in his wedded state tjjan he expected,” and is, in fact, upon the whole much indebted to that animal.

Here is an argument : In a railway station a gentleman dropped a neat little pocket-comb which a boy not notably clean picked up. Some one mentioned tbe circumstance to the gentleman, and he cl&imed his comb; but the boy said it was his and wanted to know how the man could prove the contrary. “By the mere fact,” was the answer, “ that I claim it; for no rational creature could believe that I should want a comb that had fiver been in your hair.” The proof was satisfactory, even to the boy. Christmas and New Year’s will come on Friday this time. If anybody who expects a nice present should fail to receive lithe disappointment must be attributed to the fact that Friday is an • unlucky day.”

PHUNNYGRAMS.

—A father at* Dubuque makes his children address him as follows, for instance: “ Most respected and reverend father, I’ll take another tater.” —A householder complained to a plumber because he had sent a boy to put in a fa'ucet instead of doing-the work himself. The plumber reminded him of the legal maxim. “Qui faucet per alium faucet per se.” —“ Mother,” said a little urchin, when he came home from church, “ I have heard such a smart preacher. He stamped and made such a noise, and then he got mad; he shook his fists at the folks, and there wasn’t anybody dared to go up and fight him.” —“Eat your bread, Charles -do not fling it away,” said a learned and good Judge to one of liis family, adding: “For who knows, in the vicissitudes of this life, if you may not some day want it.” The old gentleman had to cough, look learned and go away when the youngster answered more logically: “If I eat it how can I have it when I want it?” This is the result of a learned Judge having children. —A man called upon a lawyer the other day and began to state his case in a rather abrupt manner. “ Sir, I have come to you for advice; I’m a husband-in-law.” “ A what?” spoke out the learned counsel. “ Husband-in-law, sir!” “ I have never seen that defined in domestic relations.” “ Don’t you know what a husband-in-law is? Sir, you’re no lawver; you’re an ignoramus!—l am a husoand-in-Zaw, but not in fact, sir—my wife’s run off.” —A gentleman was looking into the window of a toy-store tne other day when two lads halt.ed and one remarked: “ Say, Jim, don’t you wish we had ten cents to buy a present for our poor, lame sister?” Jim replied that he did, and the gentleman pulled out a shinplaster and said he was glad to be able to assist them in such a praiseworthy enterprise. He met the same boys half an hour afterward and each had his pockets stuffed with pop-corn balls. — Detroit Free Press.

Mistaken Detectives.

There are two sick detectives at Police Headquarters. One is Sergt. Charlie Frogt, the other Detective Patrick Corr. They don’t like to have anything written about them in this connection, but the story is too good to be lost. It is all in reference to poor Charlie Ross. Every one knows that after the boy disappeared a reward of $20,000 was offered for his recovery and that the detectives all over the country were on the qui vine with the fortune in prospective. The detectives named above were among the most anxious. One morning about two weeks ago, old Dr. Rowland, a gentleman pretty well known in Brooklyn, came into Police Headquarters covered with agitation and perspiration, and, slapping Sergt. Frost upon the knee with such violence as almost to tumble him out of his chair, whispered: “ Charlie Ross is in Brooklyn; I’ve seen him.” The Sergeant dropped his pen, shut his robbery record book and at once piloted the doctor into the Superintendent’s private room, where they held an extended confab. The doctor gave the Sergeant and Detective Corr, who had been summoned, a minute description of the boy, who it seems he had seen riding up town in a Myrtle avenue car on the previous evening. But the great trouble was that the doctor had not tracked the child and the female who had him in charge, and the detectives saw that they would have considerable work before them. So after talking the matter over and making voluminous notes it was arranged that the doctor should be engaged to act m conjunction with the detectives and if possible find out where the boy had been secreted. The doctor went to work witn energy, and, inspired by the hope of a portion of the reward, began at once an inspection of all the private dwellings in the upper part of Myrtle avenue and the cross thoroughfares. The disguise in which he worked was that of a man in search of a nurse, and he never failed to take a good look at the children in each house. After four days’ hard work and muck travel the doctor found the boy he was looking for, and with a rapid stride and glowing anticipations he rushed to Police Headquarters. Sergt. Frost was busily engaged when the doctor entered, but the excited amateur didn’t heed that fact. He gave Frost a rattling blow behind the ear, then put his arm lovingly around his neck and gasped: “ I’ve found the boy at last, and had him on my knee.” Frost almost fainted, so greatly was he overcome. There was another hasty consultation, the detectives got a description of the boy’s abode, and then all three hurried off up town in a carriage, for which Frost paid on the spot. Where the house was the detectives won’t say, but it is enough to know that they found the supposed Ross boy there in the custody of an aged lady, who Said she was his grandmother. »

The Sergeant took the boy on his knee, looked in his eyes, examined his ears and hair, and then winked knowingly at Corr, who was engaging the attention of the old lady. “Do you like taffy, little boy?” asked Frost as he pressed the child to his bosom; and the little fellow, overjoyed at so much attention from strangers, opened his eyes in astonishment and answered: “Yes, I’se likes taffy.” “Then I’ll give you a penny’s worth, sonny,” said the detective, “if you will come out to the candy store j” and, grandma being willing, the two detectives took the child between them and, followed closely by the doctor, went into a store on Myrtle avenue and bought five cents’ worth of sweetmeats for him. While walking along Frost, who was boiling over, could hardly refrain from shouting aloud, and Corr had considerable trouble to keep him quiet. They made it* up between them that this was Charlie Ross wiihout a doubt, and that they must have his picture taken. So they carried him from the only store into a neighboring photographic gallery and had cards of the little fellow's features struck off in great haste, and then they took hint home again, after arranging to keep a close watch on his future movements. Then they wrote a letter to the Philadelphia officials, inclosing a copy of the photograph, and asked that some one be sen - ., on immediately to take Charlie Ross home. \ The answer came back promptly that the boy didn’t look any more like Charlie Ross than dia the Bunker Hill monument, and Sergt. Frost was so angry that he told Dr. Rowland never to come into his office again, as he had a big club beneath his desk. The boy’s parents talks of suing the detectives for abduction.—