Bloomington Telephone, Volume 11, Number 18, Bloomington, Monroe County, 9 September 1887 — Page 2

Bloomington Telephone BLOOMINGTON, INDIANA. WALTER 8 BRADfUTB, - - Publish

Lebiiaiuan Poole, of the Chicago Ptiblic Library, whose "Index to Peri

odical Literature" has male his name

familiar in every country -where the

English language is spoken, began the ethe preparation of the work when he was a. sophomore at Yale College in

Orro Schreiber, a soldier of ling

"William, in a duel so astounded his adversary by not bleeding that the latter

became an easy ictim. Since then

Otto has been a sort of pincushion when his comrades wanted some fan with knives, daggers, and such. When

Otto s time in the army is up, this

bloodless miracle will exhibit himself.

In the cities of Worcester and Fall

Hirer, Mass., and the town of Somer

eft the Swedish population is rapidly

becoming an important element. The

immigrants are mostly young girls, who

-seek employment as house-servants.

Unlike other foreigners, they inter-

marry with the natives. There are al

ready two weekly papers in the Swed-

h language published in Worcester, and in Fall Biver there are regular Idztberan Swedish religious services. The independent State of Congo, an African Government, theoretically free, tmt governed by the European powers, with King Leopold, of Belgium, as President, has just had its first money coined. The coinage is that of France, being in francs amounting to 80,000 -francs in all, of which 4,000 are five franc pieces, the rest two and one franc and fifty centime pieces and copper. Stanley, the explorer, is one of the Council of Administration of the Congo government

Bose Hartwicx Thorpe is recently -described thus: In person Mrs. Thorpe w very tall, straight, and slender, of a decided brunette type, and while the tpallor of her complexion betrays delineate health, increased probably by literary toil, the bright glance of her Uarge dark eyes expresses a high de--ee of intellectual activity. Her onanners are suave and genial in a very .marked degree, and not even the oftrepeated infliction of the too inquisif tire interviewer affects the equanimity "of her temper. Tom Parratt ran into Lou Coulter during a game of ball in Portland, -Oregon, and smashed his nose. Coul- ; ler suffered for several days and then went with his club out of town. At . e a.i "t. a m t

- eawje ne ana ximmons, me piicner, -slept together, and the latter, while -dreaming of pitching, threw out one J a i ri ij. i i

blow on the sore nosa Coulter was r rendered unconscious and remained so tot several hours. He will have to bave an operation performed on the unfortunate organ. ""A young lady of Austin, Nev., says

ne jeveiue, wno nas mucn ume to omm and who ia vatt nlrillfnl with tha

needle mid excels in all fancy crochet work, has made a unique dross. The material is common spool thread, white, and the entire dress is hand-crocheted work, beautifully flowered and strongly made, and about 10,000 yards of thread were used in its construction. The eteeves are crocheted in the proper hape and are fastened in by a lock--crocheted stitch. It is a very beautiful 4ress, and the young lady tells us that it took her three months to complete

So-caxled easy-chairs in drawingroom cars have given inventors a great

of work. They have tried to a chair which will fit every per-

m1! back and failed. They always wrS, for no two persons use their backs a the same way, and there is a wide variation in backs. Some persons are

unless the bearing comes on

shoulder-blades, others are still so when it does. Some wish to

the small of the back supported,

want every square inch of their

pressed on. The only way to do

it is to have a lot of chairs in the bag-

take a templet of every man's

k when he comes in. and pick out

that fits him ; then there will be no

growling;

A. singular accident occurred as her najesty was making the journey from Balmoral to Windsor. The signalman at Hincaster Junction, about five miles from Kendal, had his lamp lit, and all appeared right until a few minutes be;fore the approach of the royal train. .Am the train got near the junction the 'down distant signal, which was to .guide the driver of the royal train, was ia darkness, und for the purpose of injuring safety the train was brought to m standstill. On making an inspection of the signal lamp it was found to con--tun a grand swarm of bees, the great iBnmber having had the effect of put'ting out the lamp, which the signalman

unable to light again. The bees evidently been attracted by the

light Patbick K. Fahey, a contractor, went intt the Wilmington Star office "to get the "name of the fellow who wrote that piece." Failing to get the

aarne, altouh offered every opportunity to correct the misstatement

charged, he quickly jumped from the chair on which he sat, seized it by th back, and brought it down upon the head of Jerome B. Bell, the editor, with whom he had been talking, while that gentleman's back was turned. Bell was knocked to the floor with a long and deep gash on his forehead, but, quickly jumping to his feet, hit Fahey, who still had the chair upraised, a stinging blow in the eye, which landed him 9 in a corner. Bell seized Fahey's collar with his left hand and while the blood covered his head proceeded with his right to crush F ahey't face. Fahey is a he a 1 taller than Bell, Others interfered and Fahey was kept crouched in the corner unlil a polico officer came and took him away. Later he was held for trial on a charge of assault with intent to kill. Oe of the most singular incidents connected with the burning of the Opera Comique, says a Paris letter, was the wonderful escape from death of one of the chorus-singers. On the first alarm he hod rushed up-stairs to his dressing-room on the fourth floor to save his small possessions, and on arriving there, overcome with heat and smoke, he had fallen on the floor in a swoon. There he lay in a state of utter insensibility for over two hours. His dressing-room was fortunately situated in an angle of the building which the flames did not reach, the state of syncope in which he was hail suspended respiration, and so, unharmed by the fire or by the poisonous smoke and gases evolved from the burning scenery, he remained there in safety while death and destruction were rioting around him It was long past 11 o'clock when he came to his senses and

realized the horror and danger of his position. He made his escape by a

staircase leading to the Hue de Mari-

vaux, and on finding himself in safety

he once more became unconscious and

was taken to a pharmacy, from whence

he was transferred to a hospital. A few days ago he was discharged, cured, after suffering severely from his long

sojourn in the pestilential atmosphere

of the burning building. He can now

boast of being the only person who re

mained for two hours in the Opera

Comique after the fire broke out, and

who then escaped not only alive, bat

comparatively unhurt.

Much complaint has been made in

consequence of the introduction of a

new ticket system on overland roads to

California, says a San Francisco journal. The trouble all arises from the fact that the ticket given at the Missouri Biver by the overland agents contains what is called a "punch photograph" of the holder. This is supposed to be a complete description of the passenger. Along the margin of the ticket is printed, in a straight column, the following words in small, black type ; Male Female. Slim Medium Stout. Young Middle-aged Elderly. Eye. Light Dark, Hair. Light Dark. Beard. Mustache Chin Side None. The passenger is photographed on the ticket bearing his signature by punching out all the words that are not descriptive of him. If for a male, the word "female" is cut out by the punch ; if he is slim, the words "medium and "stout" are punched; if his eyes are light, the word "dark" is stricken out ; and if he wears no beard, the word "none" is left stahding; while "mustache," "chin," and "side" are punched. Now, it is readily seen how a train agent passing hurriedly through a crowded car is likely to make errors in describing his passengers on tickets, and so far from being a photograph of the holder, the marginal sketch often becomes a rank carricature. Even when the punch-marks faithfully portray the features and figure, the female passenger cannot always preserve good temper on looking at the picture drawn for her. A well-developed lady of uncertain age is not likely to consider it a compliment to be labeled in cold type as "stout" and "elderly." CURIOUS FACTS.

PAPA'S BOY."

Good authority says this country spends $22,000,000 a year on patent medicines, and that the number of these no3trums is more than 5,000. A boy at San Diego, Cal., is so electric that by rubbing his hands over a box or book and then waving his hand he can lift the object from the table. An old law is still extant in Virginia which impose a fine of fifty pounds of tobacco on a man who absents himself from church for one month without valid excuse. A Texas negro was struck by lightning and killed. In his lockets wore found two horseshoe magnets, two copper cents that had melted together, a nickel that was partly melted and stuck to his watch, and the nickel rim around his money purse was also melted. Quick upon the heels of the report of the death in Brooklyn of Henry Chatfield, caused by an orange seed lodging in an intestine, comes a report of like nature from Norwich, Ct. There Miss Marion Elsie Mackman, a teacher in the free academy, died a few days ago from the same cause. An old negro at Weldon, N. C, at a recent lecture, said: "When I see a man going home with a gallon of whisky and half a pound of meat, dat's teniperarco lecture enough for me, and I sees it every day. I know that everything in bis home is on th3 same scale gallon of misery to every half-pound of comfort. "

BT liUBT ARNOLD. Around the house, from morn till night,' A marry child doth roam ; Bis Voice is sweet, his Bpirits light, The blessing of my homo. His mother's passed to realms above Where all is peace and joy, The child alone is left to love ; Be now is "Papa's Boy." Bis bright blue eyeR and cold en hair Are never out of sight ; Bs's mounted now upou my chair, And asking, Mlapa. woitel HVs placed his little cheek 'gainst mine, Is snowing me a toy ; Alas I how can I write a line? Be says: "Woite, Papa's Boy, At ere he nestles in my lap, While shadows eat her 'round; And there enjoys his little nap Till tea-bell makes its sound, Then, half awake and half asleep, With glance so sweetly coy, Bo rnbs his eyes, scarce half a peer, And murmurs : "Papa's Boy." Oft on a morn, I lie and doze, Build castles in the air. Think what I'd do, were I to lose The cherub sleeping there. The least faint stir that I can make, He hails with infant joy ; Puts out his arms for me to take, And, "Kishshy Papa's Boy."

A GHOST STORY.

BY CLARA MERWIN.

Ten years ago I was in the first sorrow of my life. When the grave closed

over my parents I thought that there

was no place left for me in the world.

I was rich, young, and my friends and mj own reflections in the glass told In e that I was pretty. Of course, I had

many acquaintances; what rich young

girl has not? But acquaintances and

friends differ widely. I did not care

for the people who flattered and made much of me. but I turned, even in the

first days of my trouble, to one friend. She. too. was young and handsome.

We were schoolmates, but since leaving

school we had seen little of each other ;

but when my parents died and Martha Clifton wrote to me tenderly out of her

full heart, I answered back her love. She asked me to stay with her, and I went. How peaceful were those days spent in her beautiful home! The house and place were called Clifton's Vale. The house was many centuries old. Its architecture was remarkable; its rooms curious. It was a rambling old place, and of course it had a ghost. It stood in the midst of very lovely grounds, overlooking wood and river. Altogether it was one of the most lovely show-places in Newton. I staid with the Clifton s for a couple of months, and during that time the house was quiet, visitors were few they eschewed company for my sake. At the end of two months I left them, comforted and helped, and with many promises of a return by and by. Circumstances, however, too varied and too many to mention, prevented that second visit taking place for a couple of years. At the end of that time a great longing came over me to see Martha Clifton again. I must write to her and promise a visit. I did so, and by return of post I got a short but very characteristic reply : Deabest IIattie: Of course I long to see you, but unfortunately the house ia fulL Large as it is, it is crammed from cellar to attic My dear, I don't want to refuse you. I do long to see you. Will you sleep in the Tapestry roomV for it ie empty. I dare not put anybody else there, but I don't think you, Hattie. will be afraid of the ghost. If the Tapestry room will do, come, and a thousand welcomes. I can put up your maid Your loving friend, Martha toim To this letter I made a short answer. I do not believe in the ghost. The Tapestry room will do beautifully. Exrct me to-morrow. The next evening arrived at Clifton's Yale in time for dinner. The Tapestry rcom looked charming. I fell in love with it on the spot, and vowed laughingly that the ghost and I would make friends. My maid, however, looked grave over my i'esting remarks; it was plain that she elieved in supernatural visitations. Oayety of heart, however, was over me. I could not resist the influence of my old friend's company. I felt hapSier than I had been since my parents eath, and after a very delightful evening, retired to my room, feeling brave enough to encounter any number of ghosts that might choose to visit me. The Tapestry room was quite away from the rest of the house it was at the extreme end of the wing. No other bedrooms were in the wing. There was a smoking-room, a morning-room, and a little oriel chamber, which Mrs. Clifton, in her early married life had curiously fitted up for herself, but now seldom occupied. Neither did she believe in the ghost, but she confessed that this little oriel chamber had an eerie feeling. The morning-room opposite, cheerful and pretty enough, was unused. Its furniture was antique; it belonged to a by-gone day, and its inhabitants were dead. The smoking-room also was deserted; even the fumes of tobacco had left it, the judge preferring a more central apartment in the modern part of the house. Altogether this wing of the old house seemed dead. Visitors only came to it out of curiosity; they paid birief visits, and preferred doing so in broad daylight. It must have been quite a hundred years since the Tapestry-room in the far end of this wing had been slept in. Old as the other rooms in the wing looked, the Tapestry-room bore quite the palm of ancient appearance. There was not an article of furniture in it, not a chair, not a table, which must not have seen the light of centuries. The furniture was all of the blackest oak; the bedstead, the usual four-poster on which our ancestors loved to stretch themselves. But the curious feature of the room, that which gave it its name, was the tapestry. Not an inch of the walls was to be seen ; they were Lung completely with very ancient and very faded tapestry. There was a itory about this tapestry. One Dame Clifton, of long, long by-gone days, bad worked it, with the help of her maidens. She had come to an untimely end on the very day on which the great work of her life had bean completed. It does not matter to this story what became of the proud and fair dame, but it was her ghost which was said to haunt the wing and the Tapestry chamber in particular. Warden, my maid, as she helped me to undress, looked quite pale with terror. "They do say, ma'am, as Dame Clare Clifton appears with her head tucked under herarmd threads

from the old tapestry hanging to her

fingers, she dressed in gay silk, that

don't rustle never a bit, though 'tis so thick it might stand all alone, they do

say, 'Tis awful lonesome for you

Miss, to sleep hero alone, and 1 11 stay with you with pleasure if it come to

that, though my nerves aren't none of

the strongest."

I thanked Warden, however, a.nd as

sured her that I was not in the least

afraid; and she, with a well-relieved face, left me alone. I heard her foot

steps echoing down the corridor they

died away, and I was now out of reach

of all human help, for in this distant

room, in this far-away wing, no possi

ble sounds could reach anv oilier in

habitants of Clifton's Vale.

In all my girlhood I was brave ; even

in the sad depression of my sorrow, J had never known physical feir; never

theless, when the last of Warden's foot

steps echoed out and died, and that

profound stillness followed which can

be oppressive, I had a curious sensation. I did not call it fear : I did not

know before that grim and pale-faced

tyrant; but it made me uncomfortable,

and caused my heart to beat irregu

larly. The sensation was this : I felt

that I was not alone. Of course it was fancv. and what have I to do with

fancv? I determined to banish this

uncomfortable feeling from my mind, and, stirring the lire to a oheerfnl

blaze, I drew one of the black-oak

chairs near it and sat down.

Warden had looked so pale and

frightened before she left me that out of consideration for her feelings I had

allowed her to leave the jewels which I had worn that evening on the dressing-

table. There they lay, a set of very

valuable diamonds. There was an old-

fashioned mirror on the mantel-piece,

and as I sat bv the fire I saw the re-

flection of mv diamonds in the glass.

As I noticed their sparkle again that

strange sensation returned, this time

more strongly, this time with a cold

shiver. I was not alone. Who was in the Tapestry room ? Was

it the ghost? Was the story true, after all? Of course I did not believe :ii I laughed aloud as the thought came to me. I felt that I was getting quite silly and nervous. There was nothing for me but to get into bed as quickly as possible. I was about to rise from my easy chair and go over to the old-fashioned four-poster, when again my attention was attracted to the glass over my head. It was hung in such a way as to reveal a large portion of the room, and I now saw, not the diamonds, but something else. In the folds of the dim and old-worn tapestry I saw something move and glitter. I looked again; there was no mistaking it it was an eye, a human eye, looking fixedly at me through a hole in the canvas. Now, I knew why I felt that I was not alone. There was some one hidden between the tapestry hangings and the wall of the chamber. Some one, not a ghost. That eye was human, or I had never looked on human eye before. I was alone with a thief, perhaps with worse, and gems of immense value lay within his reach. I was absolutely alone, not a soul could hear the most agonized cry for help in this distant room. Now, I knew, if I had ever doubted it before, that I was a. very brave woman. The imminence of the peril steadied my nerves which a few minutes before were beginning to quiver. I neither started nor exclaimed. I felt that I had in no way betrayed my knowledge to my terrible guest. I sat perfectly still, thinking out the situation and my chances of escape. Nothing but consummate coolness could win the victory, and I resolved to be cool. With a fervent and passionate cry for succor I rose from my chair, and going to the dressing table, I slipped several costly rings off my fingers. I left them scattered carelessly about. Then 1 put the extinguishers on the candles they were wax, and stood in massive silver candle-sticks. The rcom, however, was still brilliant with the light of the fire on the hearth. I got into my bed, laid my head on the pillow, and closed my eyes. It may have been ten minute: it seemed more like an hour to my

strained senses before I heard the faint

est movement Then I discovered a little rustle behind the tapestry, aid a man got out. When he did so I oponed my eyes wide ; at that distance he could

not possibly see whether they were open or shut. He was a powerful

man, very tall and of great breadth. He had a black beard, and a quantity

of black hair. I also noticed a peculiarity; among his raven locks was one

perfectly white. One thick, white lock

hung back off the forehead so white was it that the fire instantly revealed it to me.

The man did not glance toward the bed ; he went straight, with no particular quiet, to the dressing-table. I closed mv eves now, but I heard him picking up my trinkets and dropping fhem again. Then he approached the bedside. I felt him come close, I felt his breath as he bent over me. I was lying on my bide, and my eyes were shut, I was breathing gently. He went away again, and returned to the dressing-table. I heard him rather noisely strike a saatch, then with a lighted candle in his hand he once more approached the bed. This time he bent very low, aq I felt the heat of the flame as he passed the candle softly before my closed eyes. I lay. utill, however; not a movement, not a hurried breath betrayed me. I heard him give a short, satisfied sigh, and again, candle in hand, ho returned to the dressing-table. Once

more I neara tne ciinKing sounu oi my jewels as thoy fell through his fingers. There was a pause, and then for no reason that I oould ever explain he left the diamonds untouched on the table and went to the door. He opened the door and went out. I did not know what he went for perhaps to fetch a companion, certainly to return but I did know that my opportunity had come. In an instant, quicker 'than thought, I had started from my feigned sleep; I was at the door, I had belted and locked it There were several bolts to thin old-fashioned door, there were even chains. I drew every lolt, I made every rusty chain secure. I was not an instant too soon, I had scarcely fastened the last chain, with fingers that trembled, before) the thief returned. He aw that he had been

outwitted and his savage anger knew no bounds. He kicked at the door and called on me wddly to open it; he assured me that he had accomplices outaide and that they would soon burst the old door from its hinges, and my Life would be the forfeit. To my terror I percaived that his words were no idl-s boast. The door, secured by its many fasteidngs on the cne side, was weak on the other; its hinges were nee.rly eaten through with rust, they needed bub some vigorous kicks to burst them from their resting-places in the wood. I knew that I was only protected for a few minutes, and that even if the thief was alone he had but to continue to assail the door as vigorously t.s he was now doing for a little longer to gain a fresh entrance into my chamber. I lushed to the window, threw up the sash, and bent half out. Into the clear, calm air of the night I eent my strong voice. "Help ! help ! thieves ! fire ! danger ! help! help!" I shouted these words over and over, but there was no response except an echo. My room looked into a distant shrubbery ; the hour was-, late, and the whole household was in bed. The thief outside was evidently maling way with the musty hinges and I was preparing, at the risk of any consequences, the moment he entered the room to leap from the window, when I heard a dog bark. I redoubled my cries. The bark of the dog was followed by footsteps; they came nearer, treading down fallen branches, which cracked under the welcome steps. The next instant a man' came and stcod under the window, and looked up at me. He was probably a villager taking a short cut to his home. He stood under the window, and seemed terrified; perhaps he took me for the ghost. He was not, however, all a coward, for he spoke, wWhat is wrong?" he said. "This is wrong," I answered, MI am in extreme danger. There is not a mo ment to lose. Go instantly, and wake up the house, and say that I, Miss Coyle, am in extreme clanger in the Tapestry wing. Go at once at once!" I spoke distinctly, and the man seemed to1 understand. He flew away, tiie dog following' him. I threw myself on my knees, and in the terrible moments that followed I prayed as I had never prayed before. Would the man be in time? Must my young life be sacrificed? Ah! no, I heard joyful sounds; the thief's attacks on the door ceased suddenly, and the next instant the Judge's hearty voice was heard, "Let me in, Hattie! What ia wrong, child?" I did let him in, and his wife, and several alarmed looking servants who followed after. We instantly began! to look for the thief, but mystery of mysteries he had disappeared. That

terrible man with the black hair and white lock, over his forehead had vanished a3 completely as though he had never been. Except for the marks which he had made with his feet on the old oak door there was not

a trace of his existence. I believe the servants doubted that he had even been, and only thought that the youngf lady who was foolish enough to sleep

in the Tapestry room had been visited

by a new form cf the ghost. Be that as it may, we never got a clew to where or how the man had vanished.

4

Three years liter I was again on a

visit to Clifton's Yale. This time I did not sleep in the Tapestry room. I now occupied a most cheerful., modern, and unghost-like room, and but for one cir

cumstance my visit would have been thoroughly unremarkable.

This was a circumstance which seems-

in a wonderful way to point a moral to

my curious tale. I paid iay visit to the

Chitons during the assizes. Judge Clifton, as one of the most influential

country magnates, was necessarily much occupied with his magisterial duties

during this time. Every morning he

went early into Li , the town wbere

the assizes were held. One morning

he told us of a case which interested

him.

"He is a hardened villain, he said;

"he has again and again been brought before me, but he has never yet been convicted. He is unquestionably a

thief; indeed, o:ae of the notorious characters in the place; but he is such

a slippery dog :ao jury has yet found

him guilty. Well, he is to be tried again to-day, and. I do hope we shall have some luck with him this time."

The Judge went away, and it eame

into his wife's head and mine to pay a

visit to the court and see for ourselves

the prisoner in whom he was interested.

No sooner said than done. We drove

xam Ij , and presently zovna ourselves in the crowded building. When we entered the case under discussion

had not begun, but a moment after a fresh prisoner was ushered into the

dock.

What was the matter with me? I

found my sight growing dim; I found myself bending forward and peering back. The sensation of a couple of

hours of mortal agony returned to me

again. Who was in the prisoners dock?

knew the man. He was my guest

of the Tapestry room of th ree years ago.

There he stood.suuy.indiflerent.with his

vast; breadth and height, his raven-black

hair, and that peculiar white lock flung

back from his brow. He did not glance at any one, but kept his eyes on the

ground. I could not contain myself; I

forgot everytnmg om my sense oi uis-

coverv. I started to my feet, and spoce.

"Mr. Clifton, I know that man; he

was in my room three wars ago. Do

yoa remember tha night when I got the terrible fright in the Tapestry chamber in your house ? There is the man who frightened me. I could neve forget his face. There he stands."

Whatever effect my words had on the

Judge, there is no doubt at all of their remarkable significance to the prisoner.

His indifference left him; he stared

with wide-open and terrified eyes at me.

All his bravado left him, he muttered

something, his face wsis blanched; then suddenly he fell on his knees and covered his face with his hands. My evidence was remarkable and conclusive ; and that day, for the first time, Hercules Strong was committed to prison. He had long been the terror of the neighborhood, and no one re gritted the just punishment which had fallen on him. What Lis subsequent career may be I know no; this is VtiQ present end of lay straugaatory.

DEACON BIJBDETTE'S Olffl. DRIVEN TO IT. A fine looking dog entered a down tovrn djrug store and said, in despondent tones : "Gimme a pint; of Rough 09 Rata. The astonished pfa&rmadfet ttifned pale and dropped into a chlair, gtpod and arossed himself. It's all right. said tha dogAlle guien geistern Ipbex den Hen n; I'm a real dog; gimme the poison, q&ick." "But you can talk," said the temfied derk Oh, that's all right," said the dog, wearily, "ray master sold me to a dade yesterday, and that is enough to make a sensible dog do anything. Hurry up With that Bough on Bats. IT RHYMES WHEBB IT GROWfl. Jfr. J H. Williams, of Norristown, complains that a southern poetess rhjmes "corn" and "gone." Well,, that's correct; that's a good rhyme where the poem was written and the author canft be responsible for the. vagaries of pronunciation all over America. In the land of the cypress and myrtle, where they say, Mccanw attd "goan, " what is the matter with making them rhyme? Now in the empire of Arkansas if a poet should write, Hd asked yon to give him a kits, e ld be," it would trouble his New England collaborator to end the next line of the couplet with "jesterday," bat he of Arkansas goes calmly and correctly on with, "No longer ago than jirt yisttddy." So also, the poet daown in Vai-maomit can rhyme "loss with "hone" and "calf, with "trough. w Moreover, any poet in the republic outside oi? Pennsylvania, inditing an ode to a well known railway in that State, would make "reading" rhyme with "bleeding, 9 but the people who live on the road would use "beding," (They do, too; the old-fashioned Pennsylvania Dutch kind, one feather bed to sfoep on, and three to cover with.) Ton see the poet, dear Williams, rhymes by ear and not by sight. AN ENTHUSIASTIC COLLECTOR. Seedy Stranger I don't wish to intrude, but I am making a collection of stamps for a charitable purpose, and lack but one to complete my collection. If you could spare a few moments to assist me Busy Merchant Well, we have a grestt many letters from many countries What kind of a stamp do you need? Modest Solicitor A fifty cent United States, since you are so kind ; uncancelled, please." B at while the busy merchsat is taking down tbe club he usually 3oes his stamping with, the collector disappears, being led away by the soxmd of a kitchen which is brooding im Ike distance. PUN STRCCKp "I don't know much about aihletio sports," said the accountant b tot I do know that a good swimmer anci a poor base-ball player are alike; they both strike out." Then he laughed in a harsh, rasping manner, like an e raser at work, and diving deep into a tang bed par tial payment and interest account, wiis 8ooq lost to sight in an endless column of figures about half as long as tl e score of a port of the first half of ote inning of a short cricket match He Saw the Commodore

Olte of the best railroad executives in this, coiantry of great men in t iat do partment oi human industry ie. 0. &L Bissdl, Superintendent of the Harlem Raihroad. He rose from the rear rank, as it were, having begun in. tiie most menial station. It was thought when he became e full-iledged passenger conductor that the Itighest peak of ambitien fad been scaled, but there was no keeping him in a subordinate place. One night Commodore Yanderbilt,who owr.ed the road came down from Sacato(?a, and Conductor Bissell had hint' in charge from Albany to New York. Tae dlstaucois 150 miles. Bissell kept a sharp eye on his duty and the despotic Commr dore sat silent. Not a word did he address to that trainmaster during their journey. Just m th spec-La train hauled into New York the old man asked : "How long have yott t-een on this road?" "About twelve years' wem the reply. "Come to my office to-norrow morning at 9 o'clock." Bksell didn't know what he had done to offend his employer, but being a plucky man he whistled away his apprehensions and at the appointed hour appeared in the dread precK'aoe. "Ha! humph!" grunted the Commodore, you're here, hey? Come out to the yard." Bissell followed tbe egre. quite unable to guess what wasia the wind. fow much does that rail weigh? abruptly inquired the Ctaamodore. Bissell (who was one of the bestirs formed employes in tke service) mad satisfactory answer to that and other questions relating to the miautisa of railway construction Still without the slightest relaxation of his stern features the old niaa blurted out ; "How would yom like to le Su-jerin tendent of the Harlem Railroad "First-rate," said Bissell. "Well, by! you are Superintend ent," was the Commo;lore s vigorous and characteristic termination of the inter view. Detroit Free Press. How LiMiela Took Defeat. The Century Life of Lincoln grres the fallowing unpublished letter of Lincoln, to Dr. Henry, oa his defeat for the Senate, by Douglas, in 1&$: "You doubtless have seen ere this the result of the election here. Of course I wished, but I did not ssuch expoet, a hotter result I am glad I made the late race. It gave me a hearing on the great and durable question of the age, hich I could have liad in no other way; and though I now sink out of view, and shall be forgotten, I believe I have mado some marks which will tall for the cause of liWty long after I am gone." Tim Government of the Unfted States owns $7;000,000 worth of braidings and has not a cent of insu janca on tae whole lot How tiooN a smile of God oajx change the wMidt-rowntity.