St. Joseph County Independent, Volume 17, Number 26, Walkerton, St. Joseph County, 16 January 1892 — Page 2

ROYAL RANGER RALPH; • : on : Hie W of the Western Prairies, DY WELDON J. COBB. CHAPTER XXl—Continued. “They will soon begin a new mode of attack,” sa d the hermit, “but what wo cannot tell untff they begin operations. ” This the savages did an hour later. Darkness had come down ovbr the ravine, but the hermit stood at the window, and his keen eyes were fixed on the dim scene below. “I understand their plans row.” he said at last. “What are they?” asked the scout. “They are trying to scale the cliff.” “It is almost perpendicular.” “Sti 1, under the cover of the dark-”l-r“ ness they hone to reach us. ” “They wi 1 not ” “No. One thing has prevented the success of their enterprise. ” “An 1 that is ” “Iheir discovery,” replied the old hermit. grimly. As he spoke, Walford went to a cor- i ner of the cabin. He lowered some ob- : ject by a rope from the window of the ' cabin a minute later. H? ignited a match and swung the ob ect clear of the windo^v. It proved I to bo an immense open lantern. Its rays, suddenly east forth, illumined the i spac ■ beneath them bright as day. It showed the savages in half a dozen p aces in the act of endeavoring to scale ■ the cliff and reach the refuge of their ! enemies. Cr es of rage and dismay escaped । them, as th? action of the hermit bafl'ed their plans. Both Walford and the scout began firing at them and the Modoes retreated. The flames of the lantern soon died away, leaving the valley in darkness again. “They seem to have abandoned the attack ” suggested the scout, after a long i ause. ^^or the time being, perhaps,” replied | M aliord; “but we shall have more trouble with them before the night is over. ” “You think so?” “1 know it. Look there!” Both men peered curiously from the window.- A liaming streak of fire parted

the darkness. ‘■An arrow,” said the scout. “Exactly. ” “ 1 ipped with fire. ” “Yes. ” “They mean to burn us out.” Walford laughed grimly. “If they can ” wcro shot up- I the valley. I f intended ; _ * ■ cabin. So in o J WSlfcrd seemed undisturbed at these episodes. • r l A I v you not afraid?” asked the scout, tna ly. ’ “~f what!” “Os the fire ” H do not believe they can fire the cabin. ” “Why not?” “The sides and flcor are damp and mo ^covered. ” "Ha! what about that. ” A decidedly smoky smell began to pervade the place. “The logs are ertainly cn fire,” ie mai ked Hanger Ralph. “V. el!, when we are in danger we will ret eat.” “Where?” “T > ore cf the recks.” “-s the.c away to leave here?” “Yes.” “And reach the valley?” Walford nrdded assentingly. He saw a- lie watched fr m the wirdew tl at a fa nt glow sh .wed beneath the cabin, Ihey ve done it,” ne said, calm y ‘Done what?” ‘vet the cabin on fire.” “Then we had better leave here.” “I suppose we had.” “Then let us do so. ” “in a moment Wait” “Where are you going?” “Io see that the way is clear.” ’Walford left the hut on the side ! far chest fr».m the mountain. Ranger Ralph remained at the window, looking ' down at the valley. Every moment the glare increased. Evidently the bottom . of the cabin was on fire. The arrows i orWhe Modocs had ignited the floor. T: e scout could hear the fames c rack ing fiercely. The smoke began to fid the cabin, and he was impelled to reireat.

tt 11 ho determined to await Walfords jeturn. Suddenly an anxious sound started and alarmed the old scout. There was a tearing, crashing noise. The hut seemed to lock and quiver wi dly. The f'oor appeared to drop precipitately. In a flash the scout realized what had occurred. The fire had weakened the oists that held the floor in pla -e. These had been burned through, and the result promised a dire disaster to the scout. He had fust tiiHe to spring to one side . as he saw what was about to transpire. He reached the door leading to the spot : where f e tree bridge had been, just as the 1 oor gave way. With a crash it ! went hurtling to the valley below. Triumphant shouts of demoniac glee arose from the savages. They expected j to see the scout and the hermit dashed to pieces. Ranger Ralph had es-a; ed unhurt, however, and Walford was not in the cabin when the disaster came. The scout gained the rock and has- ' tened to get out of range and sight of the Indians In his precipitate haste he stumbled and fell. He dropped over the < dge of the cliff and landed on a ledge about twenty feet below. The fall made him insensible. When he awoke to consciousness it was broad daylight, and the valley was deserted. After s veral days of arduous endeavor to ball'e the outlaw Despard and to rescue Inez Tracey, the sc ut found himself alive, in peril, and with nothing before him except complicated plots and a broken trail. CHAPTER XXII. ON THE TRAIL. One week after the occurrence of flYi events narrated in the last chanter, a i

solitary horseman emerged from the last of a series of lorn ly mountain passes and struck off into a fore t beyond which reached the isolated mining district of (lold Valley. Ihe spot was located about one hundred miles south of Miners’ Gulch, and although remote from any large business center, was prolife of numerous little settlements and mining cam, s. The horseman took a rapid but close survey of the landscape before he desc nded from the hi Is. “Yonder are the New Era mining camps,” ho murmured. “It is here that I expect to find Dyke Despard. For two days I have traced him, and I have reason to behove that Danton, his accomplice, is to meet him there and divide their plunder and leave the country. He certainly will not recognize me in this disguise. He shall not e <ape mo. He shall be punished for his many crimes. He shall tell me where I can find the woman I love—lnez Tracey.” It was Darrel Grey who spoke, but not, in propria persona, as the reader first saw him. He was elaborately disguised, and in nowise resembled the young scout who had rescued Inez Tracey the eventful night at Ten Spot, when our story I opened. | His disguise and appearance in the j district described may be briefly ex- I plained. When he had been set free by Shado,w ' Snake at the outlaws’ stronghold in Lone Canyon, ho had. as directed, go.ic j at once to Miners' Gulch. He knew that it would be dang rous and useless to attempt to find Inez or the scout with the hostile tribes around him. His return to the Gulch was not, th refore, a i etreat, but a forced flight for safety.

On c arrived there, he arou e I the natives by relating all the exciting events of the preceding fi w days. The result was that a score of determined men set out the next day to res uo t eir imp< ri ed companion. Ranger Ralph. Not a trace of the scou , Inez, the old h rmit, or the Indian princess could be found. The Modocshad returned to their usual camp, where they were so numerous that a journey thither would be useless. The bandits had been despersod or killed, and the disappointed Darrel could learn nothing of Despard or the surviving members of the I and. AH the parties to the recent plot of the desperado had mysteriously and strangely disappeared. Utterly dispirited the young scout returned to Miners' Gulch He had no mpans of knowing, whether Inez Tracey was a prisoner in the hanAs of the Modocs or was the captive of Despard. He-inclined to the latter belief, however, and at last determin ‘d to act upon it.

Assuming that Despard had escaped, he resolved to gain a trace of his whereabouts if possible. It was for this reason, knowing the wily foe with whom he had to deal, that he disguised himself. [ He visited Lone Canyon, found the I tavern in ruins, and the bandit strongI hold entirely deserted! Thence he went I south, visiting all the many mining i cam; s along Duello River. to be a prospeetp-^y^J he deftly learned that Despard and Danton had esca ed the Modocs. They were to meet at Dead Man’s Gully in a tew days. Despard was in hiding and Danton had gone after some hidden treasure. That afternoon Darrel arrived at the gifily, where a tavern that was a general center for the minors was located Darrel announced to the landlord that he intended to remain for several days, and secured a room at the tavern. That night and all the next day be haunted the bar-room of the place keeping a sharp lookout for Despard’ He made many guarded in ,uiries a< to the outlaw, but could learn nothing definite concerning him. The next evening, however, an episode occurred which indicated that his efforts to locate Despard were destined to be rewarded with success at last. | It was just afto ■ dusk, and he was ; seated in a chair near the bar, when a stranger entered the p’ace. Ihe others in the loom, engrossed in card p aying and drinking, did not notice him, and Darrel himself only bestowed a passing glance at him. The sti anger bore a small sachel in his hand and wore a heavy sombrero that effectually shadowed his bearded face. He addressed the landlord in a low tone. The moment he spoke Darrel started \ io entiy. “Danton!” he breathed, excitedly. He had instant’y recognized the voice. Die controlled .his emotions, however, and listened intently. “Are you the landlord?” asked the disguised Danton. “ Yes. ”

“I was to meet a friend bore.” “What is his name?” “D u-'rtado. ” “A Mexican?” “ Yes. ” “There's no one here of that name, ” said the landlord, “Then he hasn’t come yet. I’ll wait for him. Can you give me a room?” “Yes. ” Dutiton p accd a coin on the counter. “And send Fuertado to mo when ho comes ”

“All right.” Danton was ,ed to an apartment in the rear of the bar-room by tlm landlord. Darrel Grey was keenly excited. He I walked out into the open air and re- ; fleeted deeply. His enemies were nearI ly in Lis power. . 'The disguised stranger was certainly I Danton. The man FuertaJo he had named was undoubtedly Dvke Despard. “What had I better do?” he mused. Darrel formed a quick resolution. He had made the acquaintance of one of the principal m< n of the place the day pre- . vious, and had impressed h m favorably. His name was Brown, and he was an ex- ! officio Sheri f of the district Darr.l hastened at once to the cabin ! where he lived. Briefly he r ■ ated the I true object of his visit to Dead Man’s I Gully. The Sheriff listened interestedly. He had heard of Despard, and evi- ! dently bore him no friendly feelings. I “You want me to help you?” he said. 1 “Yes,” rep ied Darre'. “And arrest the man?” “At once. ” “On what charge?” “Train robbery and murder.” “Have you any w tnesses?” “Not here. ” “That’s it. y u see. Despard has some ! friends among the regu ar miners.” “Well?” “1 hey would demand a speedy trial, j and, as you have no witnesses, I doubt ■ if you could convict Despard.”

' “But at Miners' Gulch his crimes i known. ” “That is different. Now, I hav< plan. ” “Well?” “Arrest him yourself.” “Alone?” “No; 1 will help you. We will capi him quietly and spirit him away ” I “How?” “Will you pay the expenses for a| hide to convey him to the gulch?” 1 “Yes. ” “Thon return to the hotel. ” “And keep watch of the men?” I “Exactly.” ' “And you?” “Depend upon my being on hand w the proper time com s. ” “Agreed. ” Darrel returned to the hotel s first question was of the landlord. "Has your guest’s friend come yr lie asked, with affected carelessness. I “The Mexican?” “Yes. ” “He just came. ” “In the room yonder, I suppose.” “-Yes. ” Darrel went outside again and wad around Nie house. The shutters of e room occupied b. Danton and his d- ; anions were c used, however. * “I must see and overhear themAe decidt d. He examined the house closely. Ie knew that it had a large unfinished ‘t, n e t for storage. Ten minut s latcic was clambering over its rafters, allocated the room Danton was in. r 4n lie legan to cut a sma’l file thrdh the thin ; lastering. He had made a chink largo enougte look into the apartmeir. when he pauti. Evident.y the falling ] artic esbl plaster had attracted the attentioipj the occupants of the p’aco. For a vde, unmistakably that of Despard, a#r quickly; “What is that?”

CHAPTER XXIIT. UNI Ei A HUE: T Darrel Grey remained i erfeetly sint i and glance 1 thro :gh the hole in he ceiiing. Seated at a table was Danh, I and opposite him the object of a 1 hr- I rol’s ques;—the bandit leader, Dke Do card. The latter was disguised as a Mcxhn, but his dark, i ashing eyes letrayad his true identity to the joung scout. A few grains of plasti r had fa leion the table between them. “What is that?” Despard had demanded. “What?” “The plaster is falling.” “The rats, probably. Go on with jour story, Despard. We have no time to lo o ” Despard paid no further attentioi to the falling plaster and asked, “You lave the gold dust?” “Yes,” replied Danton. “Where is it?” “In this sachel-” “■What have you learned?” “Nothing. ” “The boys are all scattered?” “Yea ” “And the diamonds cannot be foun “No White Fawn took them. ” “Arid cannot be here ” S ’ f ° r Ur ° nOt iU lnuc h favor “Tli re’s that land that was left by Tracey. ” ' “In California?” “Exactly. ” “The old hermit said it was worthless ” ^ lnethi »g- and I have the papers to U If we only had the girl.” “Inez?” “ Yes. ” “She’s in the hands of the Modccs ” “You think so?” “1 am sure of it ” Darrell became so excited that he made a care ess move at this un tu-o Be slipped f^nn one of the rafters, and m uomg so, fell upon the frairplasterin^ J hero was a era h, and the next moment ho went flying through the air. He landed directly on the table between i tee amaze I conspirators. “You are my prisoners:” Darrel had regained his presence of mind instantly. Drawing a revolver he sprang to the floor. His main attention was directed to Despard. Danton had taken the alarm quickly Before Darrel could detain him he had gained the window. With a crash he went through it, shutters and all. At that moment the rear door was opened. Brown, the Sheriff, stood on its threshold.

“Dyke Despard,” he said, “you are under arrest. ” [TO BE CONTINUED.] limited VlonarelTv. The system of responsible ministries, tne introduction of wh*ch into our own government lias been advocated by certain theorists, would make of the President of the Lu ted States much such a functionary as Is a monarch in a constitutional country of Europe, as far as “influence with his own administration” is concerned. An amusing anecdote is told of Louis XVIII. of I ranch. Th s inoffensi e monar, h took breakfast one morning. Th< n his ministers caJed upon him: “Well,” said the King, “how are the publi • affairs?” “Getting along very i icc’y, sir',” said the ministers. “Hum! In that case,” sa'd the Kin® “I think I will po and take a walk.” Next morning after breakfast the ministers called again. “Well, how do the public affairs get on to-day?” asked the King. “Very badly indeed, sire,” .‘aid the ministers. “Hum!” exclaimed the King, “in that ca e, I think I will—go and take a walk!” I

Next day no ministers called on the king. “boat has become of my minis ry?” । said the King, aft r breaklast. I ire, ’ said tiie palace functionary ' who was in attendame, “Parliament has turned-out the ministry.” “Ah!” .-aid the King, “then it’s they who have taken a walk this time, eh?” Ix 1778 the heat of Bologna was so great that numbers of people were Stifled In Ju'y, 1.873, the heat again became intolerable. Vegetables were biiinod up and fruit died on the trees. Ine furniture and woodwork in dwelling houses cracked and split, and meat went bad in an hour. The heat in several of the French provinces during the summer of 1705 was equal to that of a glass furnace. Meat could be prepared fcr the table merely by exposing it to the sun. Not a -oul dare venture out between noon and 4 p. m.

Quite a PrcHtaftle Shave. The honest folk of Cape Breton have established some arbitrary values for the money of the United States, no inconsiderable quantity of which is in circulation on the Island, says the New York Herald. The ]>onderous dollar, with its lying inscription, is, however, as heartily detested there as it is in the Eastern States. It is only accepted under protest, at a discount of 20 per cent. Half and quarter dollars circulate freelv. however, at this depreciation, and the dime is readily taken and givbn at par. As a pleasing contrast to this, American national bank and treasury notes command a premium of 5 per cent. Why a premium no one seems to know, but the fact remains that in ordinary transactions an American $5 bill is worth 85.25.

These contradictory features re- I garding values of different classes of । American money have caused much ; merriment for tourists, who have I visited Cape Breton in large numbers I during the summer. No one blames | the Islanders for accepting American silver only lor its intrinsic worth, but the mixed conditions have given rise to queer complications. A story that serves to illustrate this is related of an American yachtsman. who, knowing nothing of the financial puzzle, left his yacht at Sydney, Cape Breton, and went ashore for the purpose of getting shaved. The price for the service at the best barbers shop in the town is 10 cents. In payment for the same the gentle- j man gave an American dollar bill of the old issue. The tonsorial artist counted out into his cu-tomcr’s palm four American quarter-dollars and one dime, after which he turned this attention to another customer, who was waiting to have his hair trimmed. Tiie .\meriean gazed in surprise, first at the man and then at the j amount of change, i “Her '.” he said, after having rci covered slightly from the amazement, ' ‘‘this can't be right,'’ at the same j time extending his hand and exhibiting the sl.lO of money. “I beg your pardon, sir." replied the barber, somewhat confuse d, for the yatciisman in bis surpri>? spoke hastily and wilh a rising hule-t ion. Then, turning to his money drawer, he examined the $1 bill, placed it back again and proceeded to count live Canadi i c qip'r cent . in the now- more than surprised American’s hand. “I’m sorry,” he said, as he did so, “but I Imve no American copper. We don’t use it here. 1 thought you bad given me a Canadian bill."

“But." said the yachtsman, even he dark than before, ‘T cl . a i r krolu^^^mttHHaugh^iml~t hen f followed the explanation that made r it clear to the astonishc 1 American r । that a Cape Breton burlier could j really, without depriving himself of ; his 10-cent fee. give a man his shave ' and 81.15 of money, depreciated 20 per cent, in value, in exchange for a single dollar of money enhanced in value o per cent. I’ony i Joseph Hausman had a pony which l he decided to kill for the purpose of . using its hide for a robe. The ani- ! mal was rolling fat. and j n ’ excellent > j condemn. After it was killed some 1 । oi the meat was cut oil and cooked, a । i number having expressed a curiosity! to know how horse-flesh tasted. At - one of the salooi*; in the city it was 1 partaken of and those who ate the ! meat pronounced it good, rather । coarse. Some were not informed as • to the nature of the meat until after ! they had expressed an opinion as to ! its flavor and tenderness. Invariably ' they praised its flavor and paid tribute ' to Hs juiciness. zimong those who were called upon ! to express an opinion was a citv i butcher, who was asked to speak as! an expert, the dish was set before j him and he ate heartily. He said he | could tell any kind of meat that was 1 bought to him; that there wasan un- ! mistakable flavor in meat which a 1 Ju. ji who had been m the butchering Biisinpcs L.ikt -iv i».a k.,.1 ..i i > i

, uimiie.-as long as lie Had could detect He praised the meat before him as to flavor, but said it was a trifle coarse, indicating that it was not ta^en from the best part of the beast. ‘'Then you know, do you, just what kind of meat you are eating?-’ asked the proprietor. ’•Yes, sir.” ‘•lt js a cut of roast from a steer’s neek,”*iaid the diner. c pon being informed of the real nature cl >_ne meat he expressed great surprise th.,-it. it shoal Ibe found so similar in flavor to bovine flesh and this was echoed by all the others. Ihe meat was cut. irom the steak and had been nicely roaslod by a. person well ii]i in cooking. The pony had i been well fed and the meat was juicy ■ though a trifle strong.-,- than beef’ x hose who partook said they saw no reason to object very strenously to horse meat.—Wisconsin State Journal. Needed No Memento. It was a wayworn traveler, with his ' yearning for food all unsatisfied. He ' was in the dining car of the Michigan । Central, and, taking a final and a gloomy look over the elaborately etched and illumined bill of fare, left the table, and, reaching for a dollar to requite the steward at the end of the car, tottered down the aisie. “You may keep the menu card as a . souvenir,” kindly said the steward as | he rang the dollar on his desk.” “What I desire is something to pro- ’ duce forgetfulness,” said the dissat- j istled passenger, chucking a quarter i to the expectant waiter.

ONE HUNDRED DEAD. terrible loss of life by the m alester explosion. Many Men Were in the Mine When the ( Explosion Came and the Escapes Were y eW _F« w of the Wounded Can Recover —Scenes of Horror. ’Twas an Awful Blast. , Additional particulars of the terrible । mine disaster near McAlester, I. T., , only too fully confirm the first reports | sent out. A careful estimate by Assistant Manager Krebs places the dead at 130 and the injured at 200. Os these at least 100 will die, as they are burned so that tho flesh is dropping from their bones. At 5 o’clock in tho afternoon there were, as near as can bo learned, about 1 -mo men in the mine, says the latest rei port. They were tho day shift and were i just preparing to ascend when the ex- । plosion took place. Six men who had I already been hoisted in tho cage had | just stepped on the platform at the side ।of the shaft. Tho cage was blown through the roof of the tower and fifty feet into the air. Flames shot up tho shaft and above the ground fully 100 feet, which were followed by a terrific report which was heard for miles around and shook all the neighboring country so violently that people in the surrounding mining towns four and live miles distant thought an earthquake was ; shaking the ground. The men already above ground were prostrated by the force of the explosion, j but did not receive serious injuries. Tho ; ! scenes about the mouth of the shaft im- ; mediately following were fearful in tho ' extreme. Weeping women flocked to 1 the scene from the village at the sound j of the explosion, many of them hyster- j ical to the point of insanity. The air- { । shaft, the only way of escape for tho ! i entombed miners, was the point where ! । the relatives of the miners congregated, j I Many of the miners were able to make ; i their way out of the tomb, and they i : were welcomed at the surface by their ; waiting friends. The injured were ! quickly taken to places'of shelter and j were tenderly cared for. One man with I a broken leg climbed all the distance of i 400 feet through the air-shaft and fell i unconscious as he reached the surface, i Others who were terribly burned labcred I painfully up the ladder, strips of flesh ■ falling from their hands and arms as they grasped the ladder’s rounds. The news of the disaster spread quicki ly through the villages surrounding , Krebs. Every physician at once volun- ' tecred his services and hastened to ' j Krebs ready to do his duty of mercy, i Hundreds of miners from tho Braidwood > I and McAlester fields hurried to tho | scene to do what they could in assisting I in tho rescue of the entombed men and the recovery of the dead. [ The work of rescue, which was begun at once, was hazardous, but the hope that some of tiie unfortunate men might ’ be rescued alive spurred the rescuers on l to many deeds of bravery and possibly

I ancod perilously on shelves of reck ad- , joining the air-shaft and the main shaft ( which a breath would almost hurl down upon the rescuers. Notwithstanding . । these dangers, the rescuers kept bravely ।on at their work. 'I he rescuers worked i at both the air and the main shafts, and bodies were rescued by both routes. I I lie mines have long been regarded as dangerous, as there are few escapes and j the ground is very gassy. The exact cause of the fearful catastrophe is not known as yt t, but it is behoved by those I who escaped to have been caused by a ■ premature explosion, which took place i 1 >etore Ihe usual safely precautions could , be taken. When the shock occurred i many of the men were on their wav to I the outlet to go homo. Those who were i m the neighborhood of the main shaft I were hurled heavenward through the I opening, going sixty feet above the sur- ; face of the earth. Eye witnesses to the i external appearance of the explosion describe it as one of the most frightful ex- 1 | hibitions imaginable. It was nearly I j dark, suddenly there was a puff of smoke 1 i through the tower; there then came a i ioar and the superstructure all gave 1 : away and after it came the belching ! ; flany s blackened in spots with human I । bodies. Ihc-n fire spouted for an' ! hour then died away, leaving the! । iron windlass and steel hoisting I apparatus intact. In half an hour the : cage was lowered, and at one of the 1 levels a youn'g man got on, nearer dead than alive. He tried to firing his father ' with him, but the sire pushed his son*on ' the platform with the little strength *hat he had left, and as the iron car shot upward the old man fell back and expired.

' ' ^n? U i rinS the ca go was run to ' i thcn l K Wer 7 e ?’ bUt R ° COUld l then be made to explore the mine Vt ’ ®?T y lr dil \ g d ,V ad and are taken , out. Many bodies are so burned that I they are not recognizable by any one. । I The search by the rescuing party still ! ' । continues. There is one disheartening i ; fact connected with the search up to the i present time, and that is that not one ! I live miner has been found. All the bod- - les so far recovered have been found to । ; be burned, charred, and maimed in al- I ' most every case beyond recognition. In I fully halt tin -ases identification has

! oeen possible only from either the clothes or tne contents of the pockets i ?k S °A C T 8?. 9 limbs had been severed , from flie bodies by the force of the explosion, and in others the bodies had been burned to a crisp and charred almost beyond resemblance to human : ioi in. I here are two encouraging facts which urge the rescuers on to the work. No lire followed the explosion, at least there have been no signs of any, and theie are known to be live men entombed in the tunnel behind fallen bowlders ; J lie rescuers can hear faint knockings t and far-off shoutings. They are diggin" i in the direction whence the sounds come ; and hope yet to rescue some of the men 1 i alive. I One hundred of the wounded are being cared for in the improvised hospital I in the blacksmith shop. Special trains 1 from Kansas and Texas have brought : huge bodies of nurses and surgeons sent ! hero by order of the General Manager I of the mines, Maj. R. M. McDowell,"of bt. Louis, who is now on his way here. ■ Nearly all of the wounded will die. During the heavy gales the waves of the Atlantic Ocean are from 24 to 36 feet in height—half above and half below ; the mean level of the sea. There Is no religion in being unhappy. !

KANSAS PHILOSOPHY. Anybody can be honest in jail. Most men like anything that is indigestible. When men become old they admire old people. Love is a story that will not bear telling more than once. No old man ever advises a younger one to marry for love. A man’s happiness is in danger when his wife begins to pity herself. When a man abuses other men to a woman, it is a sign that lie is inteicsted in her. The trouble with rising to the top of the ladder is that life is so shoit, and the ladder is so long. * In making your plans for to-mor-row, make allowance tor a bundled hindrances and annoyances.

The world is full of men so engaged in saying “Amen” that they fail to see the contribution basket. The men who can give satisfactory explanations of their failures, are the men who become loafers. You can make a man do anything by telling him that if lie does a dillerent tiling people will laugh at him. Most men look down on their neighbors from such a height that if they should fall, it would break their pecks. While you are trying to do your best to-day, you are making some mistake that will cause you trouble to-morrow. A woman’s life is always safer among men ti an her reputation, though her reputation is more to hei than her life. Thebe is nothing in the world more aggravating to a man with a secret i than to meet people who have nc : curiosity. Hypo' iip-y is one of the established I usuage.s in America. ?U>t one man ; in a hundred is sincere in what he There are some women whobelieve that to impress the world with theu innocence, they should scream ioi help every time a man looks at them ■ on the street. Every IG-yoar old boy and girl ! should keep a diary, so Duit when they grow older, they may have something to blush over when they begin I to grow conceited. What a man says to you to youi face, and what he says behind youi ; back, represents the difference between your own opinion of yoursell । and the opinion of the people.—AtI chison Globe.

mvi Habi »ettliig His Neck Broken. ' intends leaving the hospital in the ' j course of a day or so as comparatively j . cured that is to say, as near cured Jas he ever will be. When the mar entered the hosjxtal he had already 1! broken his neck on three different oc1. easions. He showed up at the hos- | pital al! of a sudden one day and । startled Hr. Egan by saying he had j had his neck broken some time befort and felt a little pain in the back of it > J • Dr. Egan admitted him to the [ hospital, and found the case to be one i of Hie most remarkable in the annals I j of surgery. Dr. H. A. V> ilson, the lecturer or orthopedics, afterward examined the m.iii and lectured on his case before a clinic. At this time Eatterson was . wearing a sor l of stiff bandage round ; his neeic, and, owing to it being an j insuilicient support, he jerked hii , neck out of placfc three times while in ■ toe hospital. On each occasion he i fell down paralyzed, and but foi the । piompt attention of Dr. Egan in rej placing his neck in position he would i nave died. Dr. H. A. Wilson, in order to ob- , a Lite the recurrence of those acci- । dents, devised a particular and special , apparatus to hold the man’s head in j place, and also a pair of tongs, which । fold'up small enough to go Into, his j pocket but extend out far enough tc permit of him picking up tilings from the floor without bending his neck.— Philadelphia Times.

Twolfih Night. The Twelfth Night custom will still prevails in Brittany which is worth mentioning for the little touch Os the pathetic which mingles with its absurdity. It has no counterpart in the islands, unkss it may possibly survive in some corners of Wales. When the Twelfth-night cake i- CU t a portion is set apart for each living member of the family, whethci present or not. The slices designed for the absent ones are carefully'pre-

} : served, and inspected from time tc . i lime. Their condition is believed to 1 indicate the health of those - for whom they have been set audit. 11 If the cake is sound and keeps well’ ■ ! no fears are entertained for the safety J of the absent one: but if it decays, the ' I gravest apprehensions are aroused , Amongst a peasantry who are very I generally ignorant of reading and I writing, it may be judged what imi portance attaches to this singular । suostitute for correspondence. Nearly l ata) Imagination. । Key. S Zellner, of Berwick, Pa, । awoke suddenly from a deep sleep and i found that his false teeth were misspng. He thought he felt a chokirm । sensation. Two doctors were sent i lor. i hey could give no relief. The minister gasped for breath jHe hade farewell to his family ami । 1 nought he was going to die. His I little daughter soon found the missin ’ I teeth in a bureau drawer, when tho ■ patient at once recovered. “Change for the better,” said the cashier of the pool room, as he paid out the cash to the winner.