Bloomington Telephone, Volume 10, Number 6, Bloomington, Monroe County, 28 May 1886 — Page 2

THJE MASTER fHK HOUSE bt john duqhs. Ha cannot walk, ho cannot Rpeak, Nothing he knows of books and men. He is the weakest of th weak, And has not strenxrth to hold a pen ; He has no pocket and no purse. Nor fiver yet has ovnwl a penny, But has more riches than hi a nurse. Because he wants not any. He rules his parents hy a cry, And holds them captive by a smile, A dospot. strong through infancy, A king from lack of guil. He lia upon his hack and crows, Or V oke with grave eys on his mother. What can he mean? But I suppose They understand each other, indoors or out. rarly or late, Thero is no limit to his sway. For, wrapped in baby robes of state. He ovens night and day. Kisses he ta es an rightful due. And, Turk-like, has his slaves to dress him His subjects bend before him, too, I'm one of them. God bless him t -London Spectator.

DOLLY

Wo were schoolfellows. Polly and I, At a little dame school in the town close by; T earried her books, and she hf Id my hand Two innocent children of God's own baud, We would marry when we grew up, we said, rave plans for the time to come we laid A small boy I, and a wee gin she. In those bygone days - ah me t ah me t Wo grew we were married Dolly and I, At the quaint old church in thetowTi close by; TThe farm was purchased, tbe fees were paid What ahlithe voting coupler the m ighlorg said. And so we were till tbe winds blow bleak, And chilled the roses on rally's cheek,

lAke the waning tide of a waveless sea,

life ebbed gently ah me : ah me t

ff you want to know why fofttiroes sish. Ton must come with mo to thr? towu close by ; Yen must see the church where our vowa were said, And the monnd that covers the restful dead, For my love is sleeping the quiet sleep Sliat the Shepherd gives to His wearied sheep And the world is not what U used to be, Ere its sunlight faded for her and me. Chambers' Journal.

HARRY'S NEW HOME.

BY IACBA J. AliTEE. What is the matter, Bessie? You look pale enough to scare one, and I do believe you've been crying!" Oh! I'm just as wretched as I can be, Jbfiie. My head aches dreadfully, and the baby fretted nearly all night, and and Harry forgot to kiss me this morning." Here the little woman broke down in tears, rhile Josie, unused to such outbursts of feeling from her quiet sister, essayed a word of comfort, as she rescued the threeweeks old baby from its heap of soft blankets, and set about the work of dressing it, "Never mind, Bess, tbe headache will coon pass off, and the baby is sweet enough now, to make up for his bad behavior of he night, and Harry will give you two kisses when he comes home, to atone for the omission this morning. M Then she began talking to the little pink baby, who blinked- his eyes in the light, -and looked as if he had never cried in his hort life. "Oh! you -blessed little baby! You darkling, soft mousey auntie could hug the life out of you this minute. Do you know, Bessie, I think his eyes are jnst like yours, and his head is shaped for all the world like his papa's." A sob was the only response, and Josie looked up in surprise, to find her sister still weeping. "Bess, what does ail you? You've not o!d me everything yet, I feel sure, because vft isn't at all like you to cry about such trifles. There's some trouble on your mind that vou're trying to conceal from me. What is it ?" Between her sobs, poor Bessie related her -story. I thought at first I'd never tell anyone, if it killed me, but oh! I'm so miserable I can't help confiding in you, Josie. You see I've been thinking for several weeks tat there was a change in Harry. He meemed so preoccupied, so I can hardly explain it, but I felt he was concealing something from me. "Well, this morning he had been walking baby to sleep, and as he laid him down on the bed, a folded paper dropped out of his pocket. He didn't notice it, and I never thought of it again, until he had been gone some time, when I accidentally touched it with my hand, and almost without realizing what I was doing, commenced reading it. Here it is. 99 And covering her face with her hands, Mrs. Mitchell tried to shut out . her misery. Josie's pretty face grew scarlet with inSVW O tlATI Ad fill A r v4 .

Dear Claba: I am so afraid of arousing suspicion that I dare not come around this -morning, though I long to do so. What do you think of the pictures? Are they not lovely? They will nelp to make our little home riht and beautiful, though there will be one dear, faithful one there who would make any home full of gladness for me. But IVe no time now for sentiment I'll save my . lova-talk for the happy evenings which will i-soon be here. "I am glad you are pleased with the carpet; -your taate is so exquisite, I feared I could not suit you. The piano will be here next wek a Steinwav, of course. What a little witch you Are to lead one into extravagances. My life has been cramped and pinched since my marriage, but now I am coming out of the hadows into the sunshine. "What a fortunate thing that no one in the place is acquainted with yen. If they were, it might lead to awkward revelations. Til be -around -this evening for an hour or two. I'll tell Oessie I'm going to a meeting. It is foolish. T know, but I almost feel sorrv to deceive

her so, but of course it can't be helped. "Lovingly, "HARRY. Josie ground her little white teeth together as she finished, and her wrath "broke forth in a storm of angry words. "The base, deceitful wretch! I never -could have believed it of him, had I not seen this letter with my own ejes. I don't -see how he dare look you in the face again. Tso wonder he forgot to kiss you! I just -wish I were a man I'd thrash him within an inch of hia life I would indeed. Oh, you poor, innocent little baby, Aunt Jcsie would rather see you dead than to know you would eve be such a perfidious wretch ms your father." Jn spite of her savage and rather unwomanly words, Josie shed some very womanly tears, over the soft, baby face he had gathered up close to her heart. aby, as if in sympathy, set up a vigorous cry, which spoke volumes for the strength of his lungs, and Josie tried in vain to pacify him. In the midst of this distress, a gentle rap was heard at the door, and Mrs. Mitchell hurriedly spread a handkerchief over her face, and feigned sleep, while Josie poked the tell-tale letter into theclire, er. plied a wet towel to her eyes for a moment, and then, with a hypocritically cheerful countenance, opened the door. A little, fat dumpling of a woman hastened into the room, seeming to have .brought some of the sunshine in with her. "Good morning, Josie! How is Mrs. Mitchell this morning? Dear, dear, baby, do stop crying you'll 'waken your mamma if you don't. Give him to me, Josie. You don't know how to manage him. Poor . little thing! Did Aunt Josie stick pins in him? There there there ! " And baby, as if yielding to the soothing oice and motherly touch, stopped crying, end did not renew it, all through the trying process of bathing and dressing. Finally,

the task completed, Mrs. Moore hold him up for inspection, a large quantity of flannel, linen, tucks, and embroidery, and a very small amount of baby. A few feminine rhapsodies from the two ladies followed, of course, and then Mrs. Moore, little suspecting the pain she was causing, said: "Wasn't Mrs. Mitchell delighted with her pictures? They are so exquisite, so life-like, and the very ones she admired so much when we were down town together one day. She could scarcely pass them, but she said she could not afford to buy them. I was glad for her, when I -aw Mr. Mitchell purchasing them. By the way, who was the young lady helping him to select those beautiful vases the other day? I happened into Sewell & Howard's while they were in there. She really has one of the sweetest faces I ever saw." The poor, sick wife, listening with the painful eagerness which only a heart filled with love, grief, and jealousy can know, could not repress a slight moan, and flosie, glad of any excuse to keep from replying, got up hastily and busied herself about the bed. Mrs. Moore laid baby down in his crib, and tearing that further conversation might disturb Mrs. Mitchell, slipped quietly out of the room, promising to come in and dress baby again next day. As scon as the door closed, Josie stooped down and put her arms around her sister's neck. "My poor darling! It seems too cruel itis unjust to the last degree that you should have to suffer so. Just think how you have economized ever since your marriage, working late and early, and often beyond your strength, always patiently sacrificing your own pleasure, for the pake of helping Harry and not being a burden to him. And you've worn .your old dresses, and half starved vour intellect, because books cost so much, and have hardly allowed yourself to think of music even, much as you love it, fearing Harry might think you felt the need of a piano. "He could not get one for you for one of the best and most devoted wives in the world, but he can buy an elegant one for this wretched girl, with her pretty young face,, which has made him lose all sense of 6hame and honor." And Josie's black eyes

snapped scornfully, in spite of her tearsi "Don't don't, Josie ! I can't bear to hear it all. Oh! I have tried so hard to be a good wife to him, working and saving gladly, because I was so anxious for a dear home of our own, where I could have a little yard with a few tea-roses and vines to make it ''beautiful. What have my sweet dreams come to? A black, miserable end.

I have not even my husband's love. Oh! Josie, how can I bear it? Were it not for my sweet baby, I should pray to die." "Don't talk about dying, Bess. I'd live, just to spite him the unfeeling monster! Get well just as fast as you can, and we'll at least have the comfort of letting the guilty creatures know that we are not blinded. I'll follow Harry down town to-nisht, when he goes to that meeting, which will be the first step towards provfng his guilt, and meantime, you must pretend ignorance, wifely trust, and all that." So Josie, planning away eagerly, began to feel quite detective-like, and had not her sister been so miserable, would rather have enjoyed the novelty of being an "avenger." Mrs. Mitchell appeared at the tea-table that night for the first time 6ince her illness. Josie had coaxed her to wear one of her own pretty wrappers, and had arranged the mass of soft, brown hair quite artistically. And Mrs. Mitchell looked very pretty indeed, for her eyes were bright and her cheeks flushed with excitement, and the little hands, usually brown from hard work, were now white as lilies. Josie looked at her admiringly, and wondered if Harry could have the heart to leave her for the sake of that other woman. It seemed that he had indeed become hardened enough even for that, for after almost carrying his wife into the little parlor, and affectionately arranging the pillows on the lounge for her, he picked up his hat and said, half apologetically, that it was too bad, but he had to attend a meeting down town. He flashed up hotly when Josie asked what kind of a meeting, and where it was to be held, and murmuring something about important business in a distant part of the city, hurried from the room. Josie was on her feet in a moment, and jerking on her hat and cloak, rushed out of the door iust in time to see Harry jump into a hack and drive rapidly away. Peeling very much like crying, she returned to comfort her sister, who was heart-sick and wretched. Mr. Mitchell came home at half past ten that night, but as Josie had gone to bed, and his wife pretended to be sleeping, he was saved the annoyance of being questioned. Thanking his stars for this good luck, he crept quietly into bed, without rousing either wife or baby. Mrs. Mitchell bore up bravely under her trials. With a pure conscience and clear, 6teady mind, Bhe determined not to sink under trouble, but, in doing her duty, to rise above it. Josie, more passionate and impetuous than her sister, could scarcely restrain her indignation, and never ceased her scrutiny of hei brother-in-law's conduct. Her vigilance was at last rewarded, by finding a card which Harry dropped as he sat at dinner one day, It was simply the number of a house 381 Elm street but somehow, with woman's intuition, she felt that it was the number of that house. So, that night, as soon as Mr. Mitchell left the house, Josie procured a carriage, and the two ladies were 6oon driving towards Elm street. Telling the driver to wait till they returned, Josie and her sister stopped a moment before entering tbe gate, to look around them. It was a clear, moonlight night, and they could distinctly see a pretty yard with a shell walk winding in and out amidst the shrubbery, and beyond it a neat brick house substantial and home-like. They advanced slowly up the walk, scarcely knowing what to do next, their courage gradually deserting them. By

some kind of carelessness or lucky chance, the front door had been left slightly ajar. Josie stood with her hand on the bell, when the sound of Mr. Mitchell's voice within caused her to change her mind, and quietly pushing open the door she entered, beckoning to her sister to follow her. They found themselves in a pretty hall, where the gas was burning but dimly. Mr. Mitchell s hat and overcoat hung on the hat-rack, with a kind of at-home air, that sent a pang through his wife's heart. They 6topped a moment to gain courage, and then walked quietly to the door of the parlor, where they heard Harry talking. Looking in, they saw a pretty, lare room beautifully carpeted, with handsome furniture, several fine pictures on the walls, an elegant piano, and an artistic mantel covered with lovely bric-a-brac, underneath which a bright grate fire was sparkling and glowing. A fantastic table was covered with pots of flowers in fu)l blossom--roses, pansies, and primroses lending their sweetness to add to the attractiveness of the room. Mr. Mitchell stood before the fire, a picture of contentment. Beside him stood a young girl, dressed with quiet elegance, her golden hair done up high on her pretty, Bhapely head, her sweet face turned up to look at the tall man beside her, her violet eyes full of admiring fondness.

Mrs, Mitchell drew a short, agonized breath, as she saw her happy rival, but no word escaped her white lips. "Well, it really is pleasant here now, isn't it, Clara? Do you know, since I have become accustomed to this delightful house, the poor little parlor at home has begun to look so dim and cheerless that I wonder how we ever could have lived in it all these years. But for you, I might have gone on in the same way years longer. Well, I am thankful those times are past, and I intend to begin enjoying life now." Then suddenly changing his tone, he said : "I half believe that shrewd little sister-in-law of mine has begun to suspect something. &he has kept me in constant fear of discovery for a week past. And I actually feel conscience stricken stricken for being so deceitful with poor Bessie. She is shut up in that dingy, close little house, thinking her liege lord is out on business, and so I am a business of true love, isn't it Clara?" And he stooped andkissed the pretty, rosy lips. This was too much for Josie to witness without giving voice to her wrath, and she burst into the room, her cheeks flaming, her eyes flashing, her whole form dilated with anger. "Shame, shame on you, Harry Mitchell! Are you lost to all honor and decency, that for the sake of this wicked girl you give up the truest love that was ever bestowed on man? Look at your poor victim, whose heart you have wrung with the keenest anguish! Arc you not proud of your work?" Mrs. Mitchell, white and trembling, with a strange ringing in her ears, and a deathly sickness and weakness stealing over her, would have fallen to the floor, had not her husband sprung forward and caught her in his arms. "My precious wife my own true heart, lookup! Oh! darling, have you doubted me?" "Doubted you! Doubted such an innocent, pure, true man as you? O, impossible!" And Josie laughed scornfully. A little white hand was laid softly on her arm, and a gentle voice said pleadingly: "I am Harry's half-sister you are the sister of his beloved wife. I had thought to myself that wo should love each other dearly. Let my hope become a reality." Josie burst into an uncontrollablelit of laughing and crying, and there really seemed to be danger of Harry's sister being suffocated in her embrace. The reaction had been so 6udden; the transition from angerdo gladness so great and complete, that she felt half wild. Then followed satisfactory explanations. Clam's grandfather, with whom she had lived since the death of her parents, when

she was almost an infant, bad recently died. Through her loving persuasion and gentle influence, he had been induced to bequeath twenty thousand dollars to Harry, who had in some way offended him when he was a mere boy, and with whom he had had no communication for years. He had also forbidden any correspondence between the two children, but immediately after his

death Clara had written to Harry, and also announced her intention of visiting him. Harry immediately thought of the plan which he had carried out, of buying a comfortable house, having Clara come to help select and arrange the furniture, and then, after everything was in perfect order, bring his wife into it, and tell er it was home. The latter part of his scheme, which was to have been fulfilled on the morrow, was spoiled by his unlucky letter, and Josie's skill as a detective. Josie, though contrite in spirit, declared that no good ever did come of concealing anything from one's wife, and I quite agree with her. Harry whispered to his now happy wife: "My dear, brave little Bessie, who toiled so bravely for my sake she shall stint and toil no longer. No more faded dresses, turned and turned again, but robes fit to adorn her dear form hereafter, and books and music and flowers, shall satisfy her longing soul." My story is done, or I would tell how the wonderful baby was sent for, and the tired, happy mother found the daintiest crib for its use in her beautiful bedroom upstairs. And how Josie and Clara loved each other dearly, and often laughed merrily over their first tragic meeting, and a great many other equally interesting things, but I won't, because, as I said before, my story is done.

Misplaced Sympathy. "I am sorry yon two ladies arc going all that distance alone," I said to some friends going oast some time ago. "If we see anvbodv on the train I know, 111 put you in his charge." "Don't I'd rather not," one of thorn answered"Why?" "Because you always pet more attention from stringers. Wo are all right. If we have any chaperon he'll be bored to death and lie will be disagreeable all the way. If we have none, ever' man on the train will be at our service and he'll only be too glad to attend to us." "That's queer. I never thought of that." "My dear loy, men are always in search of adventure, and a formal introduction or an intimate acquaintance

makes it duty, and duty is ahvavs dis-1

agreeable." "Well, I suppose you are right." "Do you see that gentleman there? He's been quietly looking around to see what retty women are on the train. Before we get to Port Costa he'll le asking my sister if he can do anything for ''her. She's prettier than I am. But what he is willing to do for her hefll do for me to keep me sweet.'" "I don't think you'll get left your self." "Between von and me and the window I don't think I will." And I left them with their arrangements all made as to how they were going to treat every man on the car. kan Francisco Chronicle.

Respect for Woman Let our Young men strive to reach a higher moral attitude. Let them divest themselves of this blase ovnieal - spirit in which they so of ten wrap themselves. Let them cling to the old be lief that, after all, there is such a thing as maidenly purity and womanly virtue, that love has not yet died out, and that the freshness of Eden still linds lodgment in nianv a heart. Thev will be nono the worse for believing that the actress on the stage or the hard-working girl in the shop or the factory should inspire the same reverence as the spoiled child of Fashion; nono tin worse for treating all women with respect, whether in their presence or during their absence ; for keeping theii own records clean, and for being simple-minded enough to believe thai "virtue alone is happiness below." Philadelphia Record. When is soup likely to run out. of the saucepan? When there is a leek ia it

without the actual contact of the soft

iron with the steel magnet. If the iron is brought very near to the magnet and then withdrawn, an electric thrill runs through the wiro and is felt in the distant magnet, just as if the contact had been actually made and broken. And so, if the soft iron be moved before the magnet, no matter how rapidly or gently, an electric pulse is felt with each motion of the magnet at the other end of the connecting wire. This illustration gives the fundamental principle of the telephone. No galvanic battery is required, as in the telegraph, to furnish an electrical current, the motions of the soft iron acting upon the magnet produce a current sufficiently powerful, even when these motions are the most delicate possible. The piece of iron in the telephone is called the diaphragm. It is a thin, circular sheet of iron, a couple of inches in diameter, held by its rim, and adjusted so that its center comes very close to the end of the magnetized bar. Its motions, which are to induce the impelling of the electrical current through the wir?, are the vibrations of air, caused by the human voice in speaking. Everyone knows that sounds are propagated through the aerial medium bv wave motions of vhis medium, and that we hear them bv the impact of these waves on the drum of the ear. It is also well known lliat these waves differ in length and rapidity of movement, and that these differences give the peculiarities of tone in musical instruments and the human voice. Now, these waves, started by a person t liking, beat against the diaphragm of the telephone and throw it into vibrations. This iron diaphragm, acting inductively on the magnet, originates magnetoelectric currents in the wire helix about it, and thet?e travel along the connecting wire to another helix encircling the magnet at the other end, and, acting upon that, exert electro-magnetic effects which increase and dear ease the strength of the magnet, thus setting its diaphragm into vibration. These vibrations correspond exactly with those of the first diaphragm, and the second diaphragm is thus made to restore to the air in one place what the lirst one received from the air in another place. These air-waves falling on the tympanum of the listener, reproduce the original sound or voice. The arrangement being the same at both ends, the machine, of course, works both ways; so that when a person is talking to the distant diaphragm the direction is reversed, and the sounds are emitted by the diaphragm -near by, and thus the original talker gets his responses. Inter Ocean.

Color and Complexion. The artist will employ for a brunette brilliant yellows and splendid reds. A jonquil-colored ribbon, a scarlet came Ha in the black tresses, a poppy-colored bodice, partially softened by Chantilly lace, will give a dashing character to the figure so decorated, and instead of diminishing its effect, will add to it new force, Hut if we have to deal with a delicate brunette with slightly jaded features, or a brunette whose skin is comparatively fair and eyes of a velvety black, Ave must no longer make use of striking and decided colors. Here, on the contrarv, soft colors should be employed, especially pale blue, because that is the shade which approaches nearest to white, without having; its rawness. If the hair of a blonde be golden or red. it ought without doubt to be accompanied by its complementary color, a dark violet velvet bonnet, a tuft of violets in the hair, a deep lilac dress, will go with itmarvelously well. There is another color which suits all shades of red hair green of a medium intensity. If the complexion of the blonde be delicate and fresh, an orange, Turkev, or ruby red will set off tliw freshness and delicacy, partly by similarity, partly by contrast. Women who are placed, so to apeak, in the halfshades of color, may wear cither what suits brunettes or blondes, provided the tones of their dress and ornomestts be subdued in proportion to the degree of warmth in their complexion. Pure yellow or deep red would illy suit ?hcstuut hair, even if dark; but half-tints, such as pale yellow, maize, deep yellow, turquoise blue and hazy blue, would harmonize well with the neutral character of these natural colors. As to thwse who have ash-colored hair, and skin in keeping with it, eyes blue as the sea or sea green, their delicate and extreme softness calls for hak'-wnrm tints, with suggestions of neutral gray or slashings of pah blue. IShick velvet gives them fairness without detracting from the distinction and delieaoy which are the characteristics of their complexion, and pearls form in their ornaments a happy consonance, provided their cold color is relieved by one that is decided, tastefully used and concentrated witluu u

The Principle of the TelcpliOK'

The telephone is an invention for

igency of electricity at long distances From the speaker. Its principle and ?onstruction may be described as follows: If a wire from a galvanic battery be wound around a bar of soft iron, the bar will be made magnetic, and remain thus while the current continues to pass around it; when this ceases its magnetism disappears. If the bar is of steel, however, its magnetism is permanent; that is, though the current is removed, it still remains magnetic. Now, since electricity can make a magnet, it is possible, in turn, to make a ma'gnet the source of electricity. Suppose a piece of iron be brought close to the end of a 3teel magnet, it will be forcibly held there by the magnet's power of attraction. A wire may be wound around the bar and its ends joined, then if the piece of iron be pulled off from the magnet bar, and stuck on again, a current of electricity will run through the wire every time this is done. Electricity produced in this way is called magnetoelectricity, and the current in the wire is said to be an induced electric current. If, now, this wire be extended to a distance, no matter how great, and ceiled around another magnetized bar, the currents induced in it, by making and breaking the contact of the piece of soft iron with the first magnet, will at the same time affect the magnetism in the distant magnet. A still more remarkable fact is that these Vulucod eurrents may be sent through the wire

space, such as a polished but uncut garnet, a ruby or a trinket of gold." Art in Ornament and Dro.astn from the rench of Charles Blanc.

Ked-Pepper Papers. "Old XTn," said the Deacon, "that was a goofl, story of Honest 13 ob and the man who 1mi4 a passion to be rich. It reminded mof another. When I was a rovUsh youngster about town, before you were born Jd as you are we had a very grasping banker here. He was always on the alert to enlarge biff business connection, and it was the fashion to say of him that he cooked up most of his skinflint schemes in church. "Among the whole-souled commercial men in town was one that I will calf lieckford. Skinflint had loiig had a feeler out for 13eckford's deposits, and one day he made a direct bid for them. " 'Come over and do business with us he said. "You can have any accommodation you want, but give us your business, old fellow.' "13eckford said he'd think about it, and a few days later he dropped in on (Skinflint. " 'I've decided,' he said, to transfer mv account to vour bank at vour solicitation, and I want a line of discount.' "Skinflint's eagerness and pretended liberality suddenly cooled. " 'Why, certainly, Mr. Beckford. Glad to have you for a customer, but business is business, you know. We like to be sure of our ground, so if you don't object it might be well enough for you to make a sort of statement as to your capital. In short, how much do you consider yourself worth?' " 'See here, old Skinflint,' bridled the indignant Beckford. 'Yon solicited my business, confound you ! But since I'm in for it I don't mind answering you. What am I worth? Well, blast you, I've got ten times yes, fifty times as much as vou have !' "Skinflint was taken way back. Beckford was in very moderate circumstances and the banker didn't know what to make of his extravagant statement. He finally asked him what he meant. "'I mean, you old rip, that I have enough, and that's a thousand times more than you'll ever have. Here you are twice my age and you grab as eagerly now as you grabbed in youth. Ob, no, you'll never be worth as much as I am. It isn't in you. That's what I mean.' "I don't know that it has any particular relation to the story," added the Deacon, "but it is a fact that old man Skinflint died bv his own hand." "Ami Beckford?" "Turned banker himself, by George! and got rich, in fact. After he retired he went to New York and enjoyed his fortune like a jolly old brick as long as he lived. He left two or tliree sons, chips of the old block, who entered the law and who are to-dav as successful as they are honored and honorable." Detroit Free Press.

A Beautiful Blow. "One day in 1867," says Mr. Ed. Johnson, of the Boston Ideals, "I was standing in front of the old Logan House at AltooMta, Pa. , admiring a superblooking man who was pacing up and down the walk, meditating, presumably, as tin rest of us were, on the length of minutes when one is waiting for a delayed train. Presently a big, broddshouldered molder, who seemed to recognize the superb gentleman, shambled up near him and muttered something which was evidently intended to offend him. The superb gentleman, however, paid no more attention to it than to look rather sharply at the molder and pass on. Soon the molder repeated the performance, with about the same result, and the lookers-on began to wonder what it all meant. By and by the molder, evidently mistaking the superb gentleman's indifference to him for cowardice, stopped squarely before him and said something which would not look well in print about 'the d d Yankee general.' "I never saw a handsomer blowr inmv life. It landed squarely on the jaw of the iuolder and seemed to raise him .neatly ami gracefully into the air and then stretch him tidilv at full length on the platform several feet away. The superb gentleman looked at the back of his hand with an expression of disgust as if condemning the hand for what it had done, and then resumed his promenade as if nothing had happened. The last I saw of the molder his friends were helping him away, but I frequently saw Gen. Hancock after that, and came to know that he was always the same kind of man slow to take offense, but wonderfully effective in punishing ono who did succeed in offending." Chicayo News. iirit and Endurance "Tbe most desperate injuries men receive in the ring are not, however, the breaking of hands or arms, nor are those punishment?, severe as they undoubtedly are, th ones under endurance of which continued 1'ghting is most wonderful. It is when a man is nearly beaten to death and stands up and lights, or, at least, takes the punishment as long as he can stand up long enough to be knocked down, that he shows the grand grit of a born fighter. There was that memorable fight in 1858 between Charles Lynch and Andy Kelly, for instance. Andy Kellv had to be killed to get him whipped, rle died on the steamboat coming back to the city from the fight, which was up on the Pallisades, if I remember aright just now. His ribs and his lungs and head were all stove in, and yet he fought on. He was so mashed up when the fight was over that John Morrissey turned from the ight of him, saying that it made him sick, and walked away unable to look at him. He fought asi long as lie could stand up, and Ids nerve enabled him to stand up until he was practically dying. Andy Kelly was one of the gamest men that ever lived. And there was another old-time fighter, Jack McCov, who was literally killed in the ring by Chris Lilly, in 1842. His backers begged him to leave the ring' while there was vet a chance of saving his life, but he refused to do so. 'I've come here to tight until I'm killed or win.' he said, or words to that effect, and killed he was. nOw aha Herald.

Basqvks for general wear are not at all changed in shape from those worn for two seasons past

Jud Lafagau-s Logic. A long fac doez not aulwaiz Ude a man's short creed. The best religion help for the livin, chariti for the ded. Justiz iz virtu's protictin; mersy tu often lets down the bars. Not talkin tu much iz realy one-half ov aul that wisdom convevs.

Tu err iz human, but tu aknowledg" an error does not seme tu be. Every day ov life iz but another praktical lesson ov the virtu ov patience. Truth iz ether at the coinmensement, in the midel, or end ov all eloquenceIt iz more often what a man mite bar been than what he iz that grinds him In none ov the other clasics iz tuition so cheap and in the end so dear az in experience. A reputation unable tu prore it qualities only by its pedigre, iz but a tin -horn afair. Courtesy iz often the veneering that covers a shallow mind, but never an ill-bread one. Children may anoy and mortifi usy yet when gone, who would not gladly welcome the worst over again? I hav maid up mi mind tu enjoy old age whether I get a chance tu or notr and there is comfort in the thaut. The best sacrifice maid for ritirn wrongs iz not equal tu the smalest sacrifice maid to keep from duing & wrong. It don't require an edukatoniu tell a comon ly, but it taks sran experienz tu tell one that will skunk the truth. It iz wearin on a man tu get beat in a hors trad and find it out, but not a bad bargain if only the other fello nos it. After aul the Bible iz tlie only just ook. It takles a saint az well az a siner ; a rich man az soon az a poor man ; and often sooner. Give me woeman butv in tbe ruf ; in its inosense. Natur's buty, in which the sole from within casts a hallu over the outward lovlines. Yung man, it can aul be summed np in whether vou ar will in tu work. Work is a -buly good thing. Invest heavily and you are sure tu win. I do not no ov any man who hass got any suces that he iz willin' tu' spare, but I du no plenty ov them who-have got more on hand than they use tu advantag. Komon sens iz not hi be spoken- ov these daz in the same breth with lernin. With so many "lerned" people- in the world, ordinary sens hacr tu take a back seat. It doez not seem az tho a man must necesarily mak a fool ov himself tu be hapy afterwards, but it may be that he doz, for most ovthenx du; sometime or other. "Brase-up" iz a slang frase, but I lik it; there iz lots ov sole in it;: a slap on the sholder with " brase-up, old boy!" haz put new zele intu mani a diskuraged man. The exat dait that swearing bekame an imaginary safety valve for man's feeling 1 have been unable to diskover, but' I hav reazon tu believ that it iz one ov the pionears, and will probably liv to a ripe old age. When a man bekonis so depraved that swearing will not vindikate his manhood, then mortifi katon and subsequent deth iz only a question ov time. Chicago Ledger. A King with an Appetite. Victor Emmanuel, among his other peculiarities, was a tremendous eater, and preferred to take his meals in the strictest privacy and w ith the most entire freedom from restraint. Often, w hen he was only King of Piedmont, he would have all the dishes put on the table at once, and then send away all the servants. At such times lie would eat with his elbows on the table, upsetting the salt on the cloth, that he might the more easily dip into it the little rawonions which he was so fond of, and which he used to nibble all through the dinner. The quantity that he could eat waa amazing. On one of his hunting trips he and his companions stopped at the house of a countrvman for tne night. At supper they had veal cutlets. After the meal was over the King turned to the officer next him and asked him how

m'any he supposed he (the King) had eaten. As his plate was bare, for he had been throwing the bones to his dog, the officer, who had been watching the disappearance of the cutlets with awe, the ught that he might venture on a bit of politeness, and replied "Two or three." The King repeated the question to the others in turn, and tiiey all, out of respect, similarly underestimated his exploits, until he came to Savoyard, who had no regard for anything but the truth, and replied promptly, "Your Majesty has eaten nine. " The King laughingly admitted that he was right. It was about the same time that another characteristic incident occurred. The King and one of his friends, Signor JM had taken shelter for the night in. the hut of a countryman, who had not the remotest idea of the identity of hiaillustrious guest. The King noticed that Siguor J., who was sitting near the fire next the host, kept turning away his head. "What is the matter with you?" asked the King in French, whieb by the way, he spoke like a Parisian. "I can't stand the smell cf this man1" said J., "he smells like a wild beast." "Bah!" said the King, "any ol MS would smell like that if we went for a week without washing." "Oh, never." "Yes, we would, 111 try it myself. So the King went to work conscientiously and never washed himself the least little bit in the world. At the end of five days J. came up to him and touching him respectfully on the elbow, said: "Your majesty has won your bet, and not at the end of a week, but of five days. The King shouted with laughter, and M as highly delighted with the whole adventure. Borne Cor. Providence Journal Puking a trial in Alabama, an old fellow who had been arraigned for killing a man, arose and said: "Jedge, thar ain't no us'n goin' on with these here proceeding, fur I shot Tobe, but that ain't nobody's bus'ness, fur he wna a friend o mine." "If he was vour friend, it's all right," replied the Judge, "for a man has a right to take a few liberties with his friends. The people in this part of the country are becoming too particular. Turn tho sociable gentleman loose, Mr. Sheriff, and call tUs next case," Arkamaw Traveler