Bloomington Telephone, Volume 9, Number 39, Bloomington, Monroe County, 15 January 1886 — Page 2
THK PASSING
Oh. atranse inconsequence of youth. When days were lived from hnnd to month. And thought ran round an empty ling In toolidh, tweet imagining. We bandied love In childish fashion The name alone and not the padefon The world and life were things so mall Car little wit encompassed all! We took our being aa onr faith For granted, drew onr easy breath And rarely stayed to wonder why We were set here to live and die Vague dreams we had, a grander fate Out Mtw would mold and dominate, T31 we should stand some far off day More godlifce than of mortal day.
Strong fate ! we meet thee hot to
A soul and all that lies behind;
We lose youtu s paradise and world of duty and of pain.
BABY'S FIRST BIRTHDAY
When the Bxm set and trails His red lobes through the west.
When o er the sea the daylight
And twilight speaks of rest, A mother sits and sings Her first-born babe to sleep. While every breeze in whispers
Good wishes o'er the deep. O mother in whose life These new pore joys has come, Mid far-off cities' toil and strife Onr hearts are nowise dumb; We thank God for the gift That Re has sent to yon. We pray that He may will to lift AU clonlds that hide the blue And tEat His love may bless Ton and your baba to-day
With that true perfect ha
Which never fades away K Weatherly, the Quiver
MASTER TOM'S ENGAGEMENT
Old Mr. Molyneux was immensely proud of his position as the county magnate. Ha lived in feudal castle 'which he had bought cheaply, haying taken over at the same time the good will, so to speak, of its former owner's social influence and dignity. In con sideration of his great wealth, his neighbors charitably ignored the fact that his father had been a small trades man, and that he himself had carried on a lucrat ve busfeess in the hardware line tor many years. He was sot a bad old fellow, ins vulgarity being of a subdued and inoffensive kind, and con seq neatly he was received m the best county society. But he aspired to even greater distinction, for his pet project was to marryhis only son, Tom, to one of the Earl of Laburnum's daughters. There seemed no reason why this auspicious event should not come about, for the Lady Florence looked kindly upon Master Tom, and his lordship had more than once hinted that he would raise no objection Lord Xatmrnum was. the Lord Lieutenant of the county, and an alliance with his family meant admission into the most ' -aristocratic circles. Unfortunately Master Tom was rather a scapegrace, and his father pre- . ferred to left him see a little of the
world oefore revealing: the high honors that were in store for hiss. The fact was that Tom showed no predilection whatever for Lady Florence, and hfc was just at the democratic age when a youth is apt to Trndygrrgle social ad vantages. Th 'a til man hnrwid that
When Tom hfJS hA him. flinir Via vrmld
ecin to svake to the responsibilities
hiaJKfaition. and be amenable to rea
son. He knew that Tom was raising a very respectable crop of debts, and that be i ore long his paternal assistance would be sought When the crises arrived he intended to make known his wishes, and to take advantage of the lad's embarrassments to impose conditions. Meanwhile, as Tom seemed to have given his heart a roving commis
sion, tbere was no apparent danger of
his seriously compromising his affections. One day, however, the young man came down from town, were he was ostensibly studying for the bar, and with very grave and determined air announced thai he was engaged to be married. Old Mr. Molyneux nearly had a fit of apoplexy on the spot, and when Tom proceeded to state that the young lady earned her own living by carrying on the business of a dressmaker at the West End, his horror and indignation knew no bounds. In vain Tom pleaded that Miss Fabian was a lady by birth and education, and that 4he poverty of her family was her only -crime. His father became more and more furious, until Tom showed aymp1oms of flat rebellion. 'Think of your position in the county cried old Mr. Molyneux, perceiving this, and wisely making an effort to control himself. "I will take it for granted, if you like, that the girl is an exemplary character. She may be ladylike and well educated, and all the .rest of it But her station is altogether
to yours.
't see thai; said Torn, stub
bornly.
"Why, of course- It is ridiculous,'' -said the old gentleman, swelling with self-importance. "Her father, you say, is a poor out-at-elbows devil of a clerk on the city." "I've never noticed his coat has holes -in it," retorted Tom. "As for his being .a clerk in the fcity, bo were you once The only difference is that you have been more fortunate than he, and have tnade enough money to retire upon." "None of yonr infernal radical nonsense here, mrV9 cried old Mr. Molyneux, infuriated at this reference to his -own origin. "It would be just as sensible to say that you and I are the equals of Lord Laburnum because Ad am was our common ancestor. What does it matter if I was once a cifrk in the city? I have since attained a superior grade in the social sele, and that is the fact that must be faced. By marrying the daughter of a city clerk, who earns her living by dressmaking, you would be making a mesalliance." "fJuat as Lady Florence would by carrying me," said Tom, looking wonderfully innocent " Who is talking about Lady Florence ?" said old Mr. Molyneux, taken . aback by this unexpected thrust "Nobody only I have an idea you 'wish me to marry oat of my station, retorted Tom. I don't wish you to marry at all, sir, not for many a long year I cried the oil man. fairly nonplused. "What I mean is, father,'9 said Tom, doggedly, "that I see no more harm in marrying below one's station to use your' own term than in marrying above.
" J.4atn
"Stuff and nonsense, sir! You don't know what you're talking about1 exclaimed Mr. Molyneux. "I don't want to have an argument with you. The long and short of the matter is that I won't hear of this foolish engagement. There ! It is no use talking. Let there e an end of it, or I shall have something very unpleasant to say." The old man bounced out of the room as he spoke, not a little startled and amazed by iiis son's tone and attitude. Hitherto Tom had never ventured to argue with him, partly from filial duty and partly from inherent weakness of character. He began to fear that the lad possessed unexpected firmness, until he soothed his mind by the reflection that he had probably been carefully coached for the interview. This suspicion explained Master Tom's unaccustomed readiness of repartee which had' made htm appear a dangerous adversary Believed in Ins mind by the discovery, old Mr. Molyneux gradually cooled down and completely recovered his self-con iidence. He easily convinced himself that Tom would never dare to disobey him, and, instead of feeling the least apprehensive of the marriage taking place, he was only uneasy lest rumors of the engagement should reach the Laburnums. He prudently resolved to treat the matter as definitely disposed of, and to make no further allusion to it at all events, until Tom had had time for reflection. Judging from appearance, the lad seemed completely subdued. He spent the next few days slaughtering pheasants in a dejected and sulky frame of mind. His father smiled within himself and held his tongue, though he showed by his manner that he did not intend to be trifled with. When he considered that he might safely speak, he said one morning, with assumed carelessness : "Well, my boy, what are you going to dor "1'ni going to shoot over Bailey's farm," replied Tom. "JSonsense. You know what I am referring to," said the old man, turning red. "I am speaking of this idiotic
love affair." On ! Well, of course, I must keep my word," said Tom, with flushed cheek. v 44 What I you haven't written to break it off?" said Mr- Molyneux, feigning surprise. "No, guv'nor,T haven't," said Tom. "I hoped you would have softened by this time." "And I believed you would have remembered that your first duty was to obey your father," cried the old man, beginning to boil. "Do you mean to teil me that you still contemplate marrying a a dressmaker?" "8 he has sold her business father,"
said Tom, eagerly, liShe might have
done better had she waited a bit,J6t out of deference to your wiSes-?" 'My Lnes! interruped MrT Molyneux, angrily. "I don't care if she carries on twenty businesses. What I say is that you shall never marry her with my consent. That's all." "I should be very sorry to disobey you father' began Tom, gravely, -but " "Look here, my boy," interrupted the old gentleman, quickly, speak ng with unnatural calmness, "let us understand each other. I forbid this foolish engagement, and I order you to break it off instantly. That is my bark. Now for my bite. You leave my house within an hour, and unless you inform me in the course of a week that the affair is at an end, I stop supplies. If you persist in marrying the girl, then, by heaven I I will alter my will and leave every farthing I possess to your cousin Ted in fact, I will make him my heir and discard you altogether." It is doubtful whether the old man would have really carried out this serious threat, for he was fond of his-eon, and proud of him in a way, but he looked very determined when he uttered it, and Tom was evidently impressed. The lad dropped his eyes before his father's irate glance, and the ruddy color left his cheeks for an instant "You know, Tom," he added, noticing the wholesome effect of his words, "you are entirely dependent upon me, and unless you took to poaching- I don't see how you could possibly earn a crust. Beside, you are up to your ears in debt." "I don't owe much," said Tom quickly, with a tell-tale blush. "You will find out that you owe a good deal when your creditors learn that I have made your cousin Ted my heir," said the old man enigmatically. Tom was evidently seriously disconcerted by this remark. He turned on his heel, muttering something about catching the next train to town, leaving his father master of the situation. The old man considered he he had gained a signal victory, and was, therefore, not the least perturbed when his son started off to the station with his luggage, in literal accordance with his injunction. He did not doubt that Master Tom would see the folly of his ways; and, surely enough, two days af--rward the younjr. man reappeared, looking decidedly sheepish, and tendered his submission. He even brought a copy of the letter he had written to the young lady, which Mr. Molyneux thought a little too curt and matter of fact;, if any fault was to be found with ii However, he was not inclined to be hypercritical in this respect, and he heartily applauded Tom's action. "I am going away for a bit, guv'nor," said the lad, who had winced a little at his father's boisterous good humor, and seemed half ashamed of his conduct. Webster and some other fellows have hired a yacht, and sail for Madeira to-morrow." "By all means, my boy," cried Mr. Molyneux, secretly delighted that his son should leave England for awhile at this juncture; "and look here, Tom, while you are away I will settle matters With these friends of yours." He produced rather a formidable list of names and figures as he spoke, and Tom started with surprise, as well lie might, at perceiving how full and accurate was his father's knowledge of his pecuniary embarrassments. The old man cut short his son's confused protestations of gratitude and apology by saying good-humoredly ; "Voll, well, you must turn over a new leaf, my boy. Reasonable economy must henceforth be the order of the day. and I hope, on your return
that you will settle down and reside permanently in the country." He had it on the tip of his tongue to hint that he must be prepared to marry Lady Floreuoe; but he wisely refrained. Nevertheless he was a full of the projeot as ever, and -after Tom's departure he spoke to Lord Laburnum more plainly than he had hitherto done. His Lordship, without pledging himself, gave him an encouraging reply; and he resolved to bring matter to a crisis immediately upon his son's return. The consequence was that, the task of settling with Tom's creditors proved quite an agreeable relaxation, and did not cause him a moment's ill-humor. But he was very much startled and disgusted on hearing that his solicitor had been asked to accept service of a writ on Tom's behalf in an action for damages for breach of promise of marriage brought by Miss Fabian against her faithless lover. The news upset him considerably, for such a scandal would set all the papers to gossiping about his antecedents, while Tom could haidly fail to cut a ridiculous figure in the wintess-box. Old Mr, Molyneux soon arrived at the conclusion that the action must be compromised at any cost, for the sake of his own dignity, not to mention the projected alliance with the Laburnums. He rushed up to town in quite a frantic state, and, disregarding the advice and protestations of his solicitor, insisted that Miss Fabie.n's claim should be settled forthwith at any sacrifice, in order to avert the danger of the affair finding its way into the papers. He was successful in his main objeot,
but, rich man as he was, he almost
check that Miss Fabian's advisers de
manded The amountwas represented by no less than five figures, and the worst of it was that he got no sympathy whatever from his solicitor, who declared that by going to trial, or even by holding out, he might have saved the greater part of the money. In spite of his great relief that the threatened scandal had been averted, old Mr. Molyneux soon began to regret the sacrifice he Had made and to fret about his enormous loss. He was not by any means a penurious man, but, like all parvenus, he keenly appreciated the value of money. He did not mind what he spent so long as he had something to show for his outlay; but in this instance the result attained was entirely negative. Every one is inclined to underrate a danger when it. has passed, and Mr. Molyneux could not help suspecting that he had been too easily frightened This uncomfortable reflection wenifed him a good deal, particularly when he learned that Lord Labiitfum had mtyde arrangements to te his familv to the South of France
or the winter. This did not look as ii
His Lordship was very anxious about his daughter's marriage with Tom, and old Mr. Molyneux was seized with an ominous foreboding when he heard the news. Tom returned after an absence of three or four months, and was evidently not a little apprehensive of the reception he would meet with. He had received some angry letters from his father, referring to the damages he had had to pay; and he therefore appeared nervous and embarrassed at their first meeting. But the old man, delighted at seeing him again, sought to put him at his ease by saying: "I'm not going to allude to what has happened, my boy ; I'm willing to let bygones be bygones." "You are very good, father, but but" "What is the matter?" inquired old Mr. Molyneux, as Tom paused in confusion. "I still cling to the hope that you will consent to my marriage with Miss Fabian," said Tom desperately. " What ! roared his father with a great start "You see, guv'nor," proceeded Tom, "I'm in a much better position than I was before when I went away. Then, as you justly pointed out, I was in debt, I had no capital, and I was altogether dependent upon you. But my debts are now paid, and as for capital" "Well, sir, what about capital?" interrupted the old man, too much amazed to be angry. " There is the money you paid to Miss Fabian," said Tom, with a fleeting smile. "The interest on it would keep us from starvation, and at loast it is enough to buy and 'stock a form with." "But but I paid the money because you broke your promise to marry her," urged his father, incredulously. "She would never marry you now." "I think she would," replied Tom, in a confident tone. "The fact is, sir, I have been victimized," exclaimed old Mr. Molyneux, suddenly, as the truth flashed across his him. "Not exactly, father at least, not yet," returned Tom, with great earnestness. "I hope you will not withhold your consent to our marriage. If you would consent the money shall be paid back to vou every farthing. I don't
you to hasten to inf onn mo, on hearing of my son's return, that you have other views with i-oo-ftrfl to vour Bauirhter Florence. I ought to
mmifinnfid that mv son has been engaged
to a Mjss Fabian for some months, and that his marriage will take place immediately. Yours faithfully, Jno. Molyneux. "Oh! father. It is awful good oi you1 cried Torn, with tears iu his eyes. I expect Laburnum will be riled," said old Mr. Molyneux, sulkily, as he folded up the note. "I doubt if I should have made 10,000 by allowing; you to marry his daughter." Harriet Martineau Harriet Martineau was born at Norwich, England, June 12, 1H0'2. She was well educated, and, at a very early age, began to exercise her talent for composition. In 1823 she began publishing poems and moral sketches chiefly for the young. 13y 1828 she had printed ten of these small volumes, and she now prepared a series of tracts on questions relating to the working classes, in whose welfare she took much interest. In 1831 she publiseed "Trations of Palestine, "which was a series of sketches of the Holy Land during the period of Christ's ministry. In the same year the British Unitarian Socity having offered three prizes for tracts on different subjects, Miss Martineau competed for, and won them all. She then began the publication of her series of "Stories on Political Economy, w by which she gained much more fame and money than all her previous works. In 1831-6 Miss Martineau visited America, and on her return recorded her impressions in two volumes. During the next two years she wrote
two novels and several tales for chil-
groaned ashe sat down to write thdl dren, but her health, never robust, now
became so affected that she was obliged
to give up literary occupation for two years. In 1843 she published a series of sketches called "Life in a Sickroom9 From that time for nearly twenty years she pursued her literary work almost continuously, though much of the time she was in very feeble health. In 1846 she made a tour through the Orient, concerning which she subsequently wrote a book. Probably the most important work of this indefatigable woman was a "History of England During the Thirty Years' Peace," a work which ranks as an authority concerning the period of English h.story to which it relates. Miss Martineau wrote in all over fifty volumes, besides a great number of pam-
'phlets and an innumerable list of news
paper and magazine articles, one was several times offered a pension from the government, but, though she had never, because of her benevolent disposition, saved much from her earnings through literary labor, she always refused on conscientious grounds to accept it Miss Martineau died June 27, 1876. Inter Ocean. Josh Billings9 Dog. A good story is told of the humorist being thrown, on one occasion, among a batch of students in a country town near New Haven. He was tramping along with a rusty yellow dog, and entered the bar-room of a hotel for some refreshments. A group of the Yale lads chanced to be thereon a frolicand immediately interviewed Billings, whom they evidently mistook for a farmer.
They inquired with affected interest after the health of his wife and children, and Josh, with counterfeited simplicity, gave them a graphic account of his family and farm. "Of course you belong to the church?" asked one of the boys. "Yes, the Lord be praised, and my father and grandfather before me." "Now, I suppose you wouldn't tell a lie," said one of the students. "Not for the world." "What will you take for that dog?" pointing to Josh's cur, which was crouching -beneath his chair. "I won't take $20 for that dog." "Twenty dollars! Why, he's not worth 20 cents." 'T assure you I would not take $20 for him." "Come, my friend," said the student, who, with his companions, was bent on having some fun with the old man. "Now, you say you wont tell a lie for the world. Let me see if you will not do it for $20. I'll give you $20 for your dog." "I'll not take ii" "You will not? Here! let me see if this will not tempt you to a He," added the student, producing a small bag of half dollars, which he built up into small piles on the table. Josh was sitting by the table, with his hat in his hand.apparently unconcerned. 4There," added the student, there are twenty dollars, ail in silver ; I will give you that for the animal." Josh quietly raised his hat to the edge of the table, and, as quick as thought, scraped all the money into it except one half dollar, and then exclaimed: "I won't take your $20! Nineteen and a half is as much as that dog is worth; he is your property !" A tremendous shout from his fellowstudents clearly showed the would-be wag that he was completely sold and that he r eed not look for sympathy
f . V 1 1. 3 A -IT
wish to defy you, as it were; and both Irom in quarw. sone gooa naiureiuy of ui are willing to rely entirely, with ! ft-'knowledged himself beaten. Phila-
regard to the future, upon your gener
osity." Old Mr. Molyneux had turned purple in the face, and Tom was justly alarmed at his aspect. But before he could utter a word in reply, a manservant brought in a note, remarking that a messenger was waiting to know if there was any reply. Mr. Molyneux opened the envelope half-absently, glanced hurriedly at the contents, and then gave vent to a muttered execration which apparently relived his overwrought feelings. After striding about the room for a few moments i:i great, agitation, he suddenly halted in front of Tom, and cried in a voice of suppressed passion: "You you impertinent, disrespectful, disobedient rascal 1 What did you say about the money?" "I said every farthing would be returned to you' replied Tom, staring at his father, "Vaiv Wfil! " nnfrl ill a nld mnn Ab
ruptly ; and he immediately sat dowifl
at the writing table, and wrote a note with a tremulous hand, "liead that' he said to his son, when he had finished. Tom, in his turn amazed and bewildered, read as follows; Dkab Loan Labubnvm; It is very kind f
'elphia levies.
The Stray Hens. A couple of Hens having Wandered away from Home and Entered a Strange Coop, began to cackle loudly. "Why is this thus?" inquired one of the Old Inhabitants of the Coop. MOh, it's on Account of the Egg we Haven't Laid," was the reply. Their Cackle Presently Eeeommenced, and Another Inhabitant queried : "Is this for the Egg you are Going to Lay?" 0h, no. This is for an Egg we have already Laid." A third time the Cackling Disturbed the Coop, anMnquiry was made: "What Grdat Thing have you finally accomplished ?" "WbyT we've laid a new shell Around a Spotted Egg and worked it off on a
Ceding Ptiblic as a Good Thing !" was ythe enthusiastic reply as the Cackle
grew to a Riot. Detroit Iree Press There appears to be an agreement among recent medical writers that water is fattening, or at least favors e fullness and roundness of the body It should be drunk at its natural tern perature and in considerable quantity.
r
Origuinal Discovery of Oold in California. It was in Alvarado's time, and about March, 1842, that gold was first discovered in Alta, California. It ia true that among the various reports or Drake's voyage, there is one which, in speaking of his landing at New Albion, in 1D78, says that "there is no part of the earth to be here taken up, t herein there is not a reasonable quantity of gold or silver." But it seems probable that this statement was an interpolation. Whether so or not, it is very certain that Drake saw neither gold nor silver on the coast. There is no pretense that he did in a very minute and circumstantial narrative, entitled, "World Encompassed," by his chaplain, Francis EJetcher, v,bo would hardly have omitted a matter of so muoh importance, if known; nor ia there any reference to gold or silver in any of the narratives of the sailors appended to and published with t ho "World Encompassed." For those reasons, and on account also of the very general, indefinite, ?md iuterjectional character of the statement itself, it must be rejected as a fabrication. It is further true, that there were reports that Captain Jedediah S. Smith, the first American who arrived in California overland, found gold in the Sierra Nevada mountains about the year 1826; but bis discovery, if it werq true, took place on the eastern side of the Sierra, and not within what is now known as California. But in 184), Andres Castillero, the same person who afterwards discovered the New Almaden quicksilver miije in Sant Clara County, while traveling from L03 Angeles to Monterey, found near thq Santa Clara river a number of wpler worn pebbles, which he gathered up and carried with him to Santa Barbara. He there exhibited them, said they were a peculiar species of iron pyrites, and declared that, according tn Mexican miners, wherever they were found, there was a likelihood of gold being also found A ronchero, named Francisco Lopez, who was living on Piru Creek, a branch of the Santa Clara river, but happened at the time to be at Santa Barbara, heard Castil lero's statement and examined his specimens. Some months afterwards, having returned home, he- went out on a search for strayed cattle. At uoon, when he dismounted from his horse foi the purpose of resting, he observed few wild onions growing near where he lay. He pulled them up, and in doing so noticed the same kind of pebbles as those to which Castillero had called his attention. Remembering what Castillero had said about them, he took up a handful of earth, and, upon carefully examining it, discovered gold. The news of the discovery, the exacl location of which was a place called San Francisquito, about thirty-five miles northeast of Los Angeles, soon spread; and in a few weeks a great many persons were engaged in wash' ing and winnowing the sands and earth in search of gold. The auriferous fields were found to extend irom c point on the Santa Clara river, about fifteen or twenty miles above its mouth, over all the country drained by its jip per waters, and thence easterly tc Mount San Bernardino. On May 14,
1842, Alvarado wrote to ihe prefect oJ the district, reproving him for not having given official notice of the discovery, and directing him 1o gather and forward an account of all circumstances of interest relating to the gold for transmission to the supreme government. From that time to this day. there has been more or Imss working ol these mines; but no places of very great richness have been found, and none to compare with those afterwards
discovered on the tributaries of the Sacramento and San Joaquin. Overland Monthly. Beautifying. "How do you go abou t beautifying fi woman?" asked the reporter. "Well, we bring out the eyes by careful pencilings, shadings and underlining The Washington vomen and the actresses understand this kind of thing, the former quite as well as the latter. The beauteous dowagers seen in Wash ington drawing-rooms assist nature considerably, 1 assure you. Beautifying is the bloom of youtl with them. Have you ever seen Nast draw a picture. He draws a line here and another there, and when presently it is finished you have the expression. That is just the way we do. If the features are too broad we modify them with lines; if they are too receding we bring themxmt in the same way. It's a very simple matter. We keep ideal heads and faces hanging on the wall and approximate to them as closely as we can. Beautifying is an art now. It is studied in Paris and New York by many women who will make it the profession of their lives." ' "How do they beautify the lips?" "We turn them out and paint them with a salve inside and the saliva which lubritates them in conversation moistens them just enough to make them a perfect ruby in color." "Do you brighten the eyes?" "No, indeed. We don't claim to dc any thing of the kind. Such proceedings ruin the sight and are foolhardy in the extreme,'1 "Can you change the shape of the nose?" "We can modify the shape by lines and beautify the nostrils by tinting them. We modify large ears by skiU-fully-drawn lines and by a peculiar arrangement of the hair. A hollow cheek is tinted low and dark in order to fill it in?" "Do you make dimples?" wWe paint them, making them verv white outside. To make them really the muscles must be cut and that we never do." How do you whiten the hands?" "By the use of doeskin, medicated gloves. Medicated masks are also used to sleep in. They are manufactured of silk rubber; a lotion is first applied to the face; then the mask is put on and induces perspiration and the eil'ect is whitening and healing. Brown powder is used for making brunettes. There is a bleach used for the skm. Moles are removed by a preparation with a glass pencil in three hours. Superfluous hair is not removod by electricity, because the effects are not pleasant, but by a preparation which is
put on the face. When it is rubbed off the hair comes with.it." "I presume you have had a lot of experience with theatrical people?" "Yes. They are more easily suited than anybody else, because they understand the subject They take great
delight in sitting dowc to be beautified; it saves them lots of trouble and we perfume them so delicately, you know, and make them feel so comfortable. I wouldn't mind doing through it occasionally myself." "Do you beautify gentlemen?" "Well, I should think so. They are as vain as women any day in the week. The Washington beautifiers claim that one 'third of their busihess comes from men. They are not In my or hard te work for, but they take delight in being handsome1 Denver Tribune. Retribution, A young Englishman at school at Harrow one day went to the assistance of a stout farmer on horseback, who was struggling with a gate-lock. He opened the gate and held it back for the ritter to pass. "Thank you, my boy!" said the fa mer, who happened to be a very wealthy man. "What may your name be?" My name is Green, returned the youth, with an ill-timed burst of imagination. "And what is your father?" Oh, my father's a cheese-monger," said the smart scholar, chuckling internally at his ready wit, "and he livue in London in Theobald's road rather a small shop, with two steps down out of the street." "I'm very much obliged to you, said the farmer. "You're a capital young chap. I shan't forget you." "Don't!" was the "scholar's fiaal thrust. "Bemembe Oreeu and a cheese-monger in Theobald's road." x And up the hill he went, vastly pleased with his own brilliancy. What his feelings may have been when, ten years later, a young gentle man by the name of Green waa advertised for whose father kept a cheesemonger's shop in 3?b6obald's road, and who, in return for politely opening a gate at Harrow, in the year 18$ . waa left a large legacy by the wealthy -farmer, recently deceased what his feelings were then none of his relatives cared to inquire too closely, but it was generally observed that irom that hour the unhappy young man never lost an opportunity of insisting on a rigid adherence to the truth. For neither waa his name Green, nor anything approaching it, nor had his father ever, even in the remotest manner. been interested in cheese. Indeed, as his son has been heard pathetically to remark, in the smallest amounts it invariably disagreed with him. Comhill Magazine. What It Costs to Die. The cost of cremation by the new company in this city,. it is Baid, will only be 25. The fact that a person dying in New York can have suit'bla mortuary rites performed for the comparatively small sum of $25 is most interesting, and will, we feel sure, do much to rob death of its terror. Dying in New York is luxury, and one about which most peoole show a strange amount of thoughtlessness and inconsideration. A citizen can live throe years in Arkansas for the price of a conventionally respectable interment in New York. Yet few take such a fact as this into the slightest consideration in consenting to a demise. We are, indeed, acquainted with one conscientious old Irish woman, with a complication of diseases, who faithfully attends the dispensary, because she is "on her relations," and she knows and admits that they cannot afford to bury her. feuch a spirit deserves an historical record and wide emulation. The fact is, we are much in need of a society for
the cultivation, not of plain living, but
of plain dying. In the hard Ume4
is often little less than criminal that a man subject his estate to the prolific expenditure of a funeraL We have heard of a gentleman who, at the solicitation of his wife, gave up tobacco a ad thereby, in the next fifteen years, saved over $500, which all went at last for Ilia burial expenses. Here was oertainlv
disproportion between effort
suit t hat most painful to well-balanced minds, and very disheartening to the anti-tobacco propaganda. New York Medical Becord. Giving a Dog a Bad Kame. Some months ago a Washington society lady presented Capt Smith. United States army, one of the military dudes stationed atthe national capital, with a beautiful little dog. Theso pf Mars was very much pleased witb his present "What a beautiful little animal he is, Miss Blank: just like you I What lovely eyes he has, just like youi And sachA v
little white paws, just like youi 1; Miss Blank laughed and said: "Just-like-j'ou would be a, good name for him. Suppose you call him fast Jike-you. v
"An excellent idea, ha! ha! Just
like-you 1"
Not long afterward Gen. , Jenks, who is very much of a martinet, called at the 1 eadquarters of Capt. bmith, and, seeing the dog, admired it very much, and asked: 14 What do you call him? "I call him Just-like-you "Young man,' said Gen. JenE&r sternlv, "I never permit my inferior to. joke with me. I resent your familiarity, sir." "I am not joking, General. That is really the name of the dog. Ha is called Just-like-you. "You shall hear from me, sir," ex- I claimed the General, withdrawing from the canvas. Gen. Jenks called on the Secretary of War, and now Wash ins ton society will miss Capt. Smith, who was so useful last season in leading the german, for he has been ordered to report for duty at Sitka, Alaska. 2fem Sifting. The value of agricultural implements exported from the United States in 1884 was $&M2,7t7, uenrlv six times what it was iu 18(4. In 1888 it was still greater. The bulk of the imple meats consists of reapers and roowtara and goes to Great Britain and its colonies. Liars are the cause of all the i tins and crimes in the world. Epietetua
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