Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 2, Number 3, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 15 July 1871 — Page 6
a*
11188
J0O& O
for work, Wk to be
Forever in I
W„t
j**" stocH. No I
pav hi# 1st or ot titled by quarter tne niinU
Men stOh Whosoeft
SPHERE.»
i:
ii
w.x_thatsnatches
v-,« flnst truits of her soul
N
ot that we pe
o( IIUl
iv ri
in mejr ior
Thus, 0 our Salute And dare ''.'lian *iyi
%5
BY M. H. K.
bird for a woman to live ajone."
11 Lh not hanl to walk alone, up bights the Kn-at have trod, Towwk, to live, to grandly be—by deeds ri.se nearer Cod My Kowiin seed, bind golden grain in His good harvest-time. To gather home the perfect fruit that springs from thought!* sublime.
We may r»-ach out a strong right arm {(rasp the truer power, Or weep weak unavailing tears o'er many a wjwteil hour No day lr«am of the brain can make le*s hard to-morrow's toil— The hands must work, cut down the tares that cumber earth's rich noil.
There is a higher life for all, that all who work attain— Who reft God's victor* at the last, made patient naint-s b3* pain Hut tear* alone can not avail—nor Woman-
that «•,. urn IhkkI must rise, Either tliatjThV1^ ^'ifnt'LvirifFi*'
And what Is
to w,der work
that
'tls
sloriffe!
As twere luting
from her grasp the
lf,s J(J f,)(. WHyS|,]f,
Where storniM pr.^ „wj n,a
thorns,
a hilr,].Won
goal
\,v prtw lowaru nam
•uri •!ibid* her calmly, idly .» Where Mrumjle, ie«s ^un, Seems it lUl hn.hol,ir,1« Wron^ o'ercoi
sit—dumb, pas.-tion
ercoine the Kight,Truth
yield to Evil's will.
wr. .OV/. no man dare with impious hand to mm .1 draw lifeV boundary line, lint strengir
,je j„.r woman, made him man—His
,,e
t,lf"
f'K1'1 divine
n()
,nltn
0
work to her, the world
is broad and wid: is so a a a at may guide.
Whatever may lxHIde her here, God sees upon Ids throne, She cannot In life's endless toil be utterly alone The voice that spake in Nazareth, sweet unto Mary's ear, Alone shall have the right, the power, to mark out Woman's Sphere."
.Behind the Scenes.
is ACT 1. "One, two, three! One, two, three! One, two, three! Set together nowone. two, three
It was the bullet-master's voice, and the ballet-master was drilling some half do/en young Indies in short skirts and long red stockings in the intricate complications of a grand pnn. The great, empty theater never looked wretchedly dismal and dreary as it did that chilly morning, with all the ladies and gentlemen at rehearsal stalking about the stage in theovereoats and shawls, and stamping their i'eot upon the lloor to keep them warm. At the back of!he building a lew windows with their blinds thrown partly open, Jet down a feeble ghastly light upon the stage, revealing the dinginess of reversed scenery ami bare rafters to nueh an extent'that the idea of ever finding in them the material for a "palace of dewdrops" on a "fairy grotto," seemed utterly preposterous. One would have thought the place had not been used for a year, so dirty and dusty and dismal did everything appear yet the Christmas season was at its height, and the annual pantomime was in the midst of an unusually successful run.
A number of people occupied the the stage, some of them with books in their hands, some of them crossing to places in accordance with the stage directions. The ballet-master occupied the space immediately before the lootlights, and was drilling his girls to tlio music of a squeaky violin in tho orchestra, in total disregard of the movements of those around him. The manager sat at a little table near fhe wings, anil some half dozen ladies, wrapped in shawls, stood about in rather sleepy attitudes, waiting carelesal}' l'or their cues.
It was something unusual to have all this going on during the run of a successful pantomime, but tho evening was a sort of gala night. A voting and lovely debutante, the daughter of an old French actor who had recently died, was to make her first appearance,and in add it ion to the usual biil.two acts of" Lady of Lyons" were to precede tho pantomime. Old Peter Frondat had left to Marie little except her name, her mother's beauiv, and perhaps some of his own histrionic genius. The two former would not aiford her a living she had determined to lind what the latter would do for her.
She sat this morning in the wings, apart from the others and screened from the stagi1 by the portal to a feudal castle which had got somehow into incongruous proximity to an Kgyntian pyramid ami the upper portion of a mountain pass in Andalusia, lleronly company in this little canvas bower was the clown, and she had boon talking with him earnestly.
I won't. 1 won't,''she said. "This must be stopped, Edward, for vour own sake, as well as mine. I don't love you, 1 can't love you, I never could learn to make you happy. You are cruel to talk to me about this thing at such a time. Don't I need all the nerve I've got to get through with tonight's trial? I should think you would kmnv better."
I drifted into it," said the clown humbly. I meant to speak to you about it again. Hut remember, Marie, tint I have loved you so long I never thought that any one could take the place of my little lost Jennie, until vour fatherVame to me for help in giving vou instructions for the stage. I fount) you so good, so beautiful, so different from other girls! It was not strange that your tutor should fall in love with youi was it, Marie?" 1 think it was," she said. "I don't sw what there was to fall in love with. Besides, vou are so much older than I. Why, I used to sit in your lap before I was" big enough to carrv costumes to
with gold, ,}l0 theatre."per I, .. yes, 1 know,'' he said, "there are grand fourteen years between us. I have tax the
{0
A debtor
njj
no estate, A make sat*'' Whoso*, and it bu» ami ner^ shall b?**
think of winning you at
After to-night, a stiil broader gulf will separate us, for vou will succeed Marie. 1 know it. The proudest place in the profession will be within vour reach."
She was silent a moment. Then she -said quietly: W ell, won't you Ih glad of it
Indeed, indeed I shall!" he replied earnestly. "I would give half the yeans ofmv life to see it. I would have been content to toko you as inr wife, even thou eft vou »v-r*} but the little girl still brintiliii: costumes to the dressing ittKm*. Simv th.i: is not to be. 1 shall b« iu\)«d ol tL. wl. hikes and carls bond at your teet. You need not
MV.Ue, Mr.-fot swell things have been 1 rs lit •tv.'* You I'. Uv ird," she said, taking his linui In never I owe to you, neverth -s, sh ..Hi such a day ever come, it "will iujuiC iil»« --'.tv reason why I »U«n !d not be yours. Sucwxs would a I i. aten'i lit of a j- lown, utiU vs I loTodymi br:ter tha*n I think
I now. Tt Wl I fl. nM !isa|uoint not care for inetMm." lie :u.sw*p#d that assor|«*n lul the inte \i_w was!
jiduJv
,i.v
hUcrrapt' at that momor:
1
"y, nv* j--.it b!«
nivuia i» I- «hc, »-xc'.iuu-.
ing, Now, then!" and immediately disappeared. Marie had no sooner left the side of the clown in answer to the summons, than her place was taken by one of the ballet-dancers—a slight dark-eyed girl, dressed like he«- sisters practicing on the stage, in coarse short petticoats, and long woolen stockings of fire red.
So she said stopping before him and curling her pretty lip contemptuously, "you are in love with our grand lady, are you
Edward darted a frightened look at her. Have you been listening he asked.
Bah Why should I take the trouble? Her silly gabble isn't worth the listening to, I'm sure. Only when folks select such queer times and places for their love-niaking, they ought to remember that canvas .walls aren't so solid as they appear. Do you knowwhy Marie Fronuat won't won't marry you. Kdward Steele?" "She doesn't love me," said the clown simply.
Stuff! She doesn't know what love js—but that's not it. She won't have you becaure you are a clown, that's all. She has fine ideas in her head, and you have yourself to blame for it partly. She forgets that it was the loss of your voice which brought you from your le gitimate line down to the position you occupy now. She forgets that she li:is never been anything better than a dresser all lier life. There's no merit in her name and beauty, but she don't think of that. It's "pride, Edward Steele, pride, and nothing else."
She has genius," said Steele. "Her dreams may be fulfilled." "Never! Listen tome: I hate that woman with all my heart and soul. A man whom I have loved better than my own life has been seduced by her ursed beauty—for she is beautiful— and her false smiles. He left me under circumstances hardest of all for a woman to bear—did me a wrong hardest of all for woman to forgive. After she had won him from me she turned him adrift. I would not receive him back she would have nothing todo with him. But that's neither here nor there. It was she who took my love away from me, and I hate her. There is toothing I would not do to encompass her ruin, and I will cause her lailure to-night if itjbe in my power to do it. |T am only a ballet-girl, but even such as I have feelings and hearts can bo hurt.
Ninette! Ninette! How can you cause her failure Tho girl smiled, and her black eyes glittered. "I)o you know who plays Melnotte to her I'auline "Yes, certainly. It is Ilarcourt." "And would you know who is the man of whom I have spoken
Not Ilarcourt surely." "The same. You need not be surprised. Such actors fall in love with vory common people sometimes. This one grew fond of a dancer, then of a dressinggirl. Ilarcourt will not play Claude Melnotte to-night." "He is on the stage this moment with Marie."
True, but ho will not be on hand tonight when he is most needed." What do you mean asked Stoele wondering. Is this some plot against Marie."
Perhaps so," sho said bitterly. I shall not bo surprised if Mr. Harcourt becomes too tipsy to make his appearance when the curtain is rung to-night. You know his failing. If you were not a fool you would wish me success." "Ninette you are mad. If you are telling the truth, it is my duty to report all this. Marie must not fall."
She placed her hand upon his arm ami said quietly. 11" Marie Frondat succeeds to-night she is lost to you forever. She has told you as much already. Should sho fail, that accursed prido will bo broken. Then, perhaps, she will look with better favor upon your suit. Help us then, for your sake, for Marie,s, for my sake."
A look of great trouble camo into the clown's face. All that Ninette said was true. Marie's failure nii^lit insure the cherished dream of his life. Ifsho did not succeed to-night she would never attempt the stage again. But he could not lead himself to so despicable a plot as this against her if it would give Lim tho eventual possession of her love. He was not so base as that. Yet, while he was determined that Marie should succeed in spite of Ninette,he deemed it best to dissemble before her. No warning from him to Harcourt would avail against Ninette's pretty blandishments, he knew that well enough. Neither had ho thoeourago to bring upon him the hatred of his fellow players byreporting tho conspiracy to the manager. So for the present he deemed it best to lull ninotte into security, even whilo he pitted himself against lier. This, at lesist he would do, through his love lor Marie.
You are right," he said "but it seoms cruel to blight a flower of such fair promise before it baa time to imuufoid. Besides, is there no one but Harcourt who is up in Melnotte?"
Not a soul. You might know that as woll as I. Old Beamish will wait curtain until half past eight. Harcourt won't come, and it will bo too late to change the play.' Consequent^, pantomime as usual*. I'm a fool for telling vou all this, but from what I overhenra just now, I thought you would be illiitg to help me."" "No," said Stoele, "I won't lift finger to help you, Ninette, but I'll keep your secret. I won't betray you. Manage the affair as you like but don't ask n»o tor assistance."
You will promise to say nothing?" sho asked, turning her dark eyes upon him suspiciously. 1 promise, solemnly," he said, with a forced grimace. "What an idiot 1 am!" exclaimed Ninette, turning upon hoc heel, "to be babbling such things so near the stage. Now then, remcmiier! Not a word."
She placed her lingers on her lips and withdrew, while the clown went up stairs after a certain vellow-eovered lxM)k, which he took home to study for the rest of the day.
ACT It
At tho hour for the commencement of the perfbrinam-t? ih»* evening, ine theater was filled to its utmost capacity. From parquetfe to dome a crowd of expectant people eagerly awaited the rising of the curtain. The dress circle, briliiaut with costly toilettes, blooming with beautiful women, was alive with the flutter of hundreds ot fans and
the rustle of silken robes. The sparkle of diamonds and the perfumes of bou-
vih her own shall quets lent their aid to the enchantment of the scene, and the murmur of many voices filled the air with a languid drone. A certain measure of romance in the history of this unknown daughter of Peter Frondat had given to her debut a degree of interest which brought half the of the great city to wit news her failure or her success, lier appearance had been well managed. Disereet and judicious ad vertising, editorial notices of marked evidences of her genius, careful "cooking" of the
Iuiblic
wr,
j»!I
that could be done in
ier ljohal: ring theater-goers to th«
6 TERKJS-HA UTE SATURDAY EVENING MAIL. JULY 15, i871.
box-office, had been done by her two best friends, Steele, and Beamish, the manager. The result, thus far, more than justified their hopes and expectations. Whether their endeavors were destined to be rewarded by her success to-night, an hour or more, at the most, would certainly prove.
Eight o'clock arrived. The Orchestra finisned the overture and stopped. There was no bell for the curtain, and the audience waited with some impatience. In a few moments the leader began to distribute music to his musi cians, and a supplementary piece of lively dance music was played to keep the house in good humor. Still no curtain. The parquette began to get somewhat noisy, and the dress circle murmured its "disapprobation of the delay. Thus at a quarter past the hour stood matters before the curtain. Behind it a somewhat different scefie was presented.
The greenroom was filled with people dressed, ready for their parts some rushing about with the appearance of considerable excitement, some conversing earnestly together, some laughing at Marie's unhappy predicament. The manager was nearly in a state of apoplexy. The overture was done. The impatience manifested by the audience was becoming only too audible. Still Ilarcourt did not make liis appearance. Marie, in her dressing-room, sat trembling with excitement and rougeing to extremes to hide the ashy pallor of her cheeks. Steele, who had made his appearance in the greenroom much earlier than necessary, as he was only caste in the pantomime, sat in orie corner poring over the leaves of his yellow book. Twenty minutes past, and still no Melnotte.
What the devil is to be done?" cried Beamish, fuming in despiration. "I'll give him ten minutes more, and if he don't come then, I shall have to set the stage for the pantomime. Too bad, too bad
He drew on a pair of white kids and went before the curtain to paeify tho people, explaining the cause of clelay, and asking their kind consideration for a few minutes longer. When he returned to the greenroom he found Marie there. Harcourt had not come. The clown put his yellow book in his pockct, and came lorward from his corner. "T will undertake to play Claude," he said, quietly, "since Ilarcourt is delinquent."
You exclaimed the manager, in astonishment. "Why—why—bless my soul!" "Marie must not fail," said Steele.
For her sake I will do the best I can. There are but two acts. I think I can command my voice for an hour at least, if you are disposed to take the risk."
But you—you are not up in it, are you I played the part once or twice some years ago," replied the clown. "If I'm "well followed, I think 1 can do it." "God bless you, my dear fellow," cried Beamish impulsively. It you succeed I will be your debtor for life. Go on and try."
During the" few moments occupied by Stoele in dressing for the part, Beain ish again went before the curtain, part lj' to occupy the attention of the people, partly to request their indulgence for the performer, who had undertaken the role on so short notice. Then the stage was cleared, the bell rung, and, to the satisfaction of everybody, the play commenced.
It will be hardly necessary to recite tho details of that wonderful performance. Everybody said that such a rendition of tiie parts of Claude and Pauline had not been given upon those boards for very mail}' a long year. Steele gaining confidence as he warmed to the work before him, threw into the character all the earnestness and fervor of which lie was capable. His lovo for Paulino was not tho love of Melnotte it was the love of Edward Steele tor Marie Frondat. His very soul seemed to look out from its eyes as ho repeated the tender,' well-worn passages, and gave a ne\V meaning to their Fiaekneyea intonations. His lost voice returned to him, and rang out clear and sonorous, or anon fell into swoot cadences of exquisite tenderness. Mario, stimulated, encouraged, sustained by his example, more than fulfilled tho oxpoctations of her friends. The whole house rang with plaudits. Beamish, standing anxiously in the wings was besido himself with delight. Three times was tho debutante called before the curtain, each time to be pelted with boquets which more than filled the arms of tho happy Claude, who came forward with her to receivo his share of the general approbation.
Tho sustained excitement was too much for Marie. When all was done sho fainted away in the arms of tho faithful Steele on" her way to the dressing room. It was, perhaps, well for him that she should bo taken home in a carriage as soon as sho recovered her senses. He could hardly have done justice to his nonsense in the pantomime, had she remained in the theatre that night. Ninette, in a bewildering demi-costumeof gauze and spangles, made her appearance soon after Marie had gone home.
I'll be even with you for this," she hissed in Edward's ear. "You'd better finish your job now by getting Harwurt sobei again. He's at my house, drunk as a fiddler."
She turned away and was lost in the harlequin crowd U|»on the stage—a fairy queen with all the ancestral malignancy of her sisternood in her blue veins.
ACT III.
The next morning Edward called upon Marie. He found her at her logings a poorly furnished apartment on one of tho upper floors of a house in a retiru»l part of the city.
She lav upon a lounge at the farthest side of the room as he entered, but ri»se instantly to meet him. Before he could prevent her, she had twined her arms about his neck and kissed him. It was a little thing which would have been scandalous in some women. Somehow it did not seem bold in Marie.
It is you who saved me," she cried, impulsively. "Ninette has been here, ana I know ever3'thing. I thought you were good last night. Now I knowyoa are noble."
He smiled and unwound her arms teuderly. It was nothing," he said. "I could not bear that my pupil should fail when I had done so much already to have her succeed. My own pride was at stake you know.'*'
And you studied the part all day," she said "because you knew just what would take place at night. Oh, bow can I ever thank you enough for it
Hush he said, taking a seat on the sofa beside her. A brilliant career is before you, Marie. Make the best now of your go'den opportunity. If I mistake not, we shall yet have the earl and the marquis at your feet, as I have prophesied.*1
She turned her blue eyes full upon him with a look which be could hardly have mistaken had he dreamed of a possibility of its being there. As it was he did not heed it. "I care nothing tor that," she replied
UI
shall be content with a much more humble suitor than either or a marquis or an earl."
Anything," he said, laughing, "but a clown in a pantomime." "I did not say that."
Never mind. Marie. I will try to forget my idle dreams. Still it would have made me very happy could they ever have been fulfilled."
She was silent a moment, idle, tracing with one little finger the pattern upon the sofa covering. Then she said, quietly:
You do not know but they may come true yet." "He seized her hand earnestly and tried to look into her downcast eyes, trembling lest he had mistaken her words."
Marie!" he exclaimed, "you do not mean—that after all." I mean," she said, placing both her hands in his. "that il you will take me for your wife, Edward in payment for your goodness to me, you will make "me verj% very happy. I have loved you all my life, think, but I never knew it until last night."
And a capering clown he said "O Marie! how could you I thought last night," she replied smiling, "that if the clown could, in a
f)lay
make love so well, how excellent would he be able to do it in reality!"
GENTLEMANLY" LADIES. Lately the Columbus train was unusually* full from this city. However a gentleman occupied one whole seat to himself, and his wife another They were strangers to this part of the country wore good clothes, and apparently they were rather more pumpkins than other people were. The lady was young, and had tantalizing curls. In came a pleasent-looking lady, alsb young, but without tantalizing curls and commenced looking for a seat.
Is this seat engaged she affably said, to the lady with curls, "I calculate to occupy it myself," was tho reply.
Is anybody occupying it with you That makes 110 aifl'ereuce—I intend to occupy it myself." "Will you see me stand up?"
You can do as yow please." "Well, I think I will sit down." So saying, the pleasant lady sat down, but instead of striking the seat, she found liersall in the lap ol the lady with curls, who had suddenly moved with the intention of blocking the pleasant lady out.
Yery well," said the latter, as pleasant as a summer morning, "I am comfortable enough." .But the lady was not. Tho mountain of consolidated crinoline was rather too much for tho narrow space besides, the pleasant lady was rather heavy and curls darted angrily out of the seat and swept into the next car. The pleas ant lady, when she found that she had the seat all to herself, leaned back and laughed outright. The husband of curls had awoke from a map, and expressed a desire to whip somebody— didn't exactly know who—for insulting his wife, but the passengers laughed him out of it. The pleasant lady said she was a "Yorke State gal."
BUYING AND SELLING. The following is the way they buy and sell in Madrid, if a correspondent tells the truth A nut-brown maid is attracted by a brilliant red and yellow scarf. Sho asks tho sleepy merchant, nodding before his wares, "What is this rag worth?" lie answers with profound indifference, "Ten reals."
Hombre Are you dreaming or crazy?" She drops the coveted neck-gear and moves on, apparently horrorstricken.
The shopman calls lier back peremptorily. "Don't be rash! The scarf is worth twenty reals, but for the sake of Santissima Maria, I offered it to you for half price. Yery well! You are not suited. What will you give?" "Caramba! Am buyer and seller as well? The thing is" worth three reals more is a robbery." "Jesus! Maria! Jose and all the family Go thou with God! We cannot traiie. Sooner than sell for less than eigt reals I shall raise the cover of my brains! Go thou! It is eight of the morning, and still thou dreamest."
She lays down the scarf reluctantly, saying' "Five But the outrage mercer snorts scornfully, "Eight is iny last word! Go to!"
She moves away, thinking how well that scarf would look in the Apollo Gardens, and casts over her shoulder a Parthian glance and bids "Six!" "Take it! It is madness, but I cannot waste my time In bargaining."
Both congratulate themselves on the operation. Ho would have taken five, and she would have given seven. How trade would suffer if we had windows in our breasts.*-rM 1 i-tm#
SYMPTOMS OE CATARRH. Indisposition to exercise, difficulty of thinking or reasoning or concentrating the mind upon any subject, lassitude, lack of ambition or energy, discharge falling into throat, sometimes profuse, watery, acrid, thick and tenacious mucous, purulent, offensive, Arc. In others a dryness, dry, watery, weak or inflamed eyes, ringing in cars, deafness, hawking and coughing to clear throat, ulcerations, death and decay of bones, scabs from ulcers, (constant desire fo clear nose and throat, voice altered, nasal twang, offensive breath, impaired or total deprivation of sense of smell and taste, diaziness. mental depression, loss of appetite, indigestion, dyspepsia, enlarged tonsils, tickling cough, difficulty in speaking plainly, general debility, idiocy and insanity.
All the ahove symptom's are common to the disease in some of its stages or complications, yet thousands of cases annually terminate in consumption or insanity and end In the grave without ever having manifested one-third of the symptoms above enumerated.
No* disease is more common or less undersfood by physicians. The proprietor of Dr. Sign's Catarrh Remedywill pay $500 reward for a case of catarrh which he cannot cure. Sold by druggists, or send GO cents to K. V. Pierce, M. P., 133 Seneca street, Buffalo, N. Y., fbr it. A pamphlet free. Beware of counterfeits and worthless imitations. Remember that the genuine has the words R. V. Pierce, M. D., Sole Proprietor, Buffalo, N. Y.," printed upon the wrapper also has Dr. Pierce's portrait, name and address on his private government stamp upon each package. »7*2.
the vegetarian hobby, once said to Ir Walker of Harvard College, "I think that when a man livts en beef he becomes something like an ox if he eats mutton he begins to look sheepish, and if he eats pork may he not grow to be swinish Vr "That may be," said Dr. Walker, but when a man lives on nothing but vegetables I think he's apt to be pretty small potatoes!"—Golden Age.
Thry hart transfused the blood of a sheep into tht" veins of a dying NorthCarolinian, au«I so saved his mutton.
&
TOOTHACHE.
I had the toothache yesterday. That infernal little hollow tooth of mine held a bushel of ache. It ached clean down to the toes of my boots it was a regular O. K. ache, too! Mv face swelled so much that my most familiar creditor didn't know me. You wouldn't have wanted very much of my jaw. Every time the tooth thumped, it lifted me clear off the chair. I really thought I should go crazy—you probably think my fare wouldn't have cost ine much— I begged for a revolver to end my momentous moments.
I remembered of a quart bottle of strychnine in the house. I got it and drank it all didn]t even take the cork out—I sucked it in—and prepared to die. But suddenly I discovered the label Old Rye" on it. The label played the mischief with aiy intentions. If it hadn't been for that label!
I laid it on tho floor, rolled over and immediately gotup. A good many people who are depending on me for various sums—hearing of my danger or their danger—came in to tell me what they didn't know was good for the toothache, but begged me to do something as they were sure I was not prepared to go yet.
The ladies sympathized with me. Ono said she had not had the toothache for many years but she hadn't a tooth in her head. One old maid declared she had it in her two front teeth very badly only the day before but I know privately that they are false. All tho while mj' tooth, with the spirit of a hundred aches, was beating time to the music of Fisher's Hornpipe. I snatched the tongs and ran up stairs,and worked for fifteen minutes to pull the infernal tootli|but it wouldn't budge an inch.
I had a notion to go to the dentist, but then I got afraid he might pull it. It means business to go there. But I started three or four times, hoping it would stop before I got to our gate— which it didn't. Finally, I crammed my hat over my eyes, took my face in both hands, ana started.
I was crazier than I ever was in my life, and that is saying a good deal. "I met a fellow I owed and paid him live dollars. I was out of my head.
I ncared the dentist's door. I nerved myself up—so did the tooth —and then with a heroism worthy of a better cause, went past, and around home again. I thought of tho river then I thought ot the young lady who had mistaken me for "a single man,and then went back to the dentist's room, shut my eyes and went in.
I asked liim what he'd give mo to let him pull the tooth. He said laughinggas. I told him it was no laughing matter, and I didn't want any of his gas. He told me to sit down and enjoy myself, and he'd pull it anyhow7. I begged him to pull easy oil it and he got his forceps, on it. Then I asked him what he'd take to let me off without pulling the tooth, lie told me to hold on. I held on his arm. A second and I thought my head was a bombshell, and had bursted. I asked the dontist if my backbone had not come up with it, and felt my face to see if it was all there.
But the tooth was well out. It was tho first time in his lifo he had ever made the mistake of pulling the right tooth the first trial. Yes, there on the table lay my little tooth, still aching away. It was true to its instincts. When the dentist asked me for his pay, I told liim to charge it. I was. sure I had got in my right mind then.
My face has gone down again, but flatter myself I have still enough lelt to do business on.
Ik Mr. Darwin had been calmly reposing in tho vicinity of 'Scjuiro' Thompson's house in Cincinnati the other night, he would have been awakened by ono of those creatures who has only arrived at that stage of existence when men are called monkies. 'Squire Thompson has a monkey, and Squire Thompson's monkey occupies quarters at night in the rear room of the top floor of tho house. The top floor is considered very warm in summer time, at least this monkey will testify that his room is extremely warm. Accordingly his monkeyship perched himself on a window still on tho night in question to breathe the smoky air of Cincinnati, and while there in this attitude he beheld some burglars boring away at tho back gate. Pretty soon tho lock fell from its place and the gate swung open before them. Delighted with their success, fancying themselves secure from observation, and already reveling in imagination over the rich booty which would soon bo theirs, tlioy next attacked the kitchen door. This was too much for tho hero of tho Brazilian forest, and he gave a tromenduous screech, followed by a prolonged ch-r-r-r-r, which curdled tho blood in theirfvcins, whilo their hats wore lifted upon their stiffened locks to an astounding altitude. They didn't wait to see whence the unearthly sounds proceeded. They turned and fled in wild disinity followed and spurrod on as they ran by shoutsofdomoniac laughter from the undeveloped specimen of humanity on the window still. II that monkey has half a chance he will eventually bo found occupying some lofty position like that of Detective Baker or Col. Whitley.
PL-XT'MAR Stukkt Pavino.—The.p.lving of the streets of Milan and Turin is peculiar, and unlike anything we see the United States. Instead of having gutters for the water to run into, the pavement comes up to an exact lfevol with the sidewalk, with a slight inclination down to the centre of thestreot. In the centre are large, flat stones, with slit openings to let the water through into the sewers. There is no stepping up or down iu passing from one side to another—no stubbing of toes. The streets are paved with verv small cobble stones. Through thewicfer streets are large, flat stones of granite, placed on a level with the cobblestone, for the catriages and carts to roll over. These stones are from five to eight feet in length, twenty-six inches wide and ten inches thick,"and placed at the proper distance apart for the wheels of carriages. The wheels roll easily over this smooth and solid pavement. There are two of these wheelways In every principle street.
Thb realm of Uncle Sam, vulgarly known as the United States of America, has now a magnitude which many have attempted to portr by some vivid representation. Pernaps the best account of it, however, was given more than two thousand years ago, when
Mr. Altott, who is hard rider of Cvros the Persian Prfncesaid to X« no-
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pfion, "My father's empire is so large that men perish with cold at one end while they are suffering with heat at the other."—Golden Age.
Thb King and Queen of Naples are residing in the strictest privacy." That's what the Boston Advertiser says but as the "strictest privacy" is a place not mentioned in any modern geographical work, and as there is no King or Queen of Naples, we take leave to suspect that the Advertiser has been misinformed.
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The train is running over the road at a rapid rate. The car is full of welldressea, aristocratic passengers. The conductor enters and proceeds to collect the accustomed fare. Presently he comes to a lady dressed in deep mourn— ing, traveling with three children, and calls for a ticket. The lady quickly puts her hand into her pocket for the**?* same, but it is gone, with the walletcontaining all her money, within whichl the ticket had been placed for safe-^ keeping. The lady is ofan exceedingly, modest, retiring disposition, and in an"' agitated manner explains why she can not pay the fare. Tne conductor is one of your hard-hearted kind—one of those men with out a particle of gentle feel- I ing—and without taking into considera-* tion any of the palliating circumstances1 in the case, rings the bell, stops the train, and the young woman and her' little ones are ordered from the car."' The engineer had not been an uninterrested spectator of the scene. He had left the engine, and advanced to where the lady w*as standing, looking so dls-. tressed and friendless. The engineer
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had a big, warm heart, Putting his' hand in his pocket, he broduceda fifty- •1 dollar gold piece, and. handing it to tfie lady, remarked: "Here, madam, take this and got into the car. It is shameful that vou should *, be thus treated.
The ladv hesitated about receiving it but was in a desperate strait and after showering numberless thanks upon the noble engiueer, insisted on receiving his name and address she then returned to her seat in the cars, and went on her way.
About a month from that time the engineer received a note requesting him to call at the express oibee and take from thence a package addressed to him. He did so. Upon opening the package he found that it contained fifty dollars and an elegant gold watch, seals and chain. Upon the inside of tho case was inscribed tho Golden Rnlo, tho substance of which is, "To do to others as you would wish others todo to you."1
Mj)IGESTION AND PARADISE. All talk of blessings What a blessing is digestion! To digest! Do you know what it means? It is to havo.* the sun always sliming and the shade always ready for you. It is to be met with smiles and to bo greeted with'1 kisses. It is to hear sweet sounds, to bo touched ever with soft cool hands. It is to be in Paradise. Adam and Eve were in Paradise. Why? Their digestion was good. Ah! then they took liberties—ate bad fruit—things that, ruined their constitutions, destroyed their gastric juices, and then they were expelled from Pjiradiso by an angel with the flaming sword, which turned two ways, was indigestion. There camo a great indigestion upon tho earth bocause the cooks were bail, and they vailed it a deluge. Ah! I thank God there is to be no more deluges—all tho evil comes from this. Macbeth could not sleep. It was the supper, and not,: the murder. His wife talked and walked. It was the supper again..5 Milton had a bad digestion, because he was always so cross and your Carlylo must have had the worst digestion in the world, because he never says any good of anything. Ah to digest is to be happy. Believe me, my frioiuls, there is no other way not to be turned-' out of Paradise by a fiery, two-handed, .burning sword.—Trollopc.
Chixbsb WiLfc.—A Chinaman died, leaving liis property to liis throo sons, as follows To Funi-Hum, his oldest, one-half thereof Nu-Pin, his second son, one-third thereof and to DingBat, his youngest, ono-ninth thereof. When tho property was inventoried, it was found to consist of nothing more less than seventeen elephants and it puzzled these throo heirs to decide how to divide tho property according to tho terms of the will, without chopping up tho seventeen elephants, and thereby seriously impair their value. MS Finally they applied to a wise neighbor, Sum-Punk, for advieo. Sum-Punk ,h| had an elephant of his own. Ho drove it into the yard with the 17 and said: "Now wo will suppose that your father has left those 18 elephants. Fum-Hum take your half and depart." So Finn-§ Hum took his nine elephants and went liiswav. "Now,Nu-Pin take your third and git." So Nu-Pin took six elephants and traveled. "Now, DingBat," said tho wise man, "take your ninth and be gone." So Ding-Bat took two elephants and absquatulated. Then Sum-Punk took his own elephant and drove home again. Query: Was the property divided according to the will?
The eagerness with which such a writer as Thomas Henry Huxley is now road, not merely by tho learned lew, but by tho unlearned many, ought to be enough to put to flight tho shallow charge that the brain of this age has grown thin and listless on a diet of novels, and that profound and earnest scientific writing has no chance of popularity. A new book by Huxley, or .S Darwin, by Tyndal or Ag issiz, by Herbert Spencer or Mill, is now sure to be greoted by an immense constituency of zealous readers, who await its coming as a high groat in life, and grapple with 4 its contents as enthusiastically as if it were a new poem or romance. Not long since a farmer in one of the western states, being takon down with a sicknessOi a very painful kind, was asked by his daughter what sh$ should
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cet for him. Writhing and twisting in torments, he replied, "Get me lluxley." It was the only medicine which -A gave him any relief, to have his daughter sit by him and read long passages from the "Lay Sermons." The concltision to which we came is that tho most difficult problems of the age are interesting to the people and that discussionsof them only need to be done with literary skill and sincerity to find both a fit audience and a large one.—Golden Age.
Bix's Lktter.—A funny thing happened not verv long ago. Scene, "Possum Ridge," Montgomery County, Indiana. A native, whom we shall call "Bix,"gotaletterfro»n acertalnfirm in Crawfordsville. "Bix," couldn't read, but had a friend, fortunately, who could. This friend made known the I contents of the letter, and also tho information printed on the end of the envelope, "If not called for in ten davs return to Crawfordsville, Irnf." "Bix" went home satisfied. Ten days passed quietly, and on the morning of theeleventh Bix rode up to the Squire, a neighbor of bis, and calling him out, said: "Well, Squire, I guess I can't help you plant corn to-dav, have to go to town. Me and the old woman has staved at home every day for ten days, anil nobody has come after the letter yet so, I reckon, I'll have to take the blamed thing back where it came from."
Yot*xo men who use perfumed note paper and elaborated rea and gilt monograms, tinted cards, embroidered handkerchiefs and shirt fronts, lace neckties and fancy sleeve-buttons, must not be surprised If they are considered effeminate and foppi«jJi.