Bloomington Telephone, Volume 14, Number 35, Bloomington, Monroe County, 25 October 1889 — Page 2

X.OVE MAKES A CHANGK.

T MILKS COPLEY. "1 am sick of tho world." ho said ; I am sick of the -world niul of life; Of tbe double-faced hypocrisy, And the strain of the godles3 strife. I am sick of the fools that succeed; I em sick of the sages that fall ; Of the pitiless laughter of wealth, And of poverty's pitiful wail. "I am sick of the devils that leer At innocence passing by ; I -will bar my door to the world, 1 will lay me down and die." Bnt there came a change as he spoke. And the mists were burned away ; And the midnight darkness of his despair Was turned to jocund day. And the sun burst forth once more, Till his glories tilled the skies, And the magical power that wrought the change Was one look in a woman's eyes. -Boston Transcript.

HIS FIRST LOYE; OR vThe Mysterious Portrait. If all the visitors who were present on the opening night of the great art exhibition had been as constant in their after-attendanco as was Mr. Horace Temple, the managers would have made money out of it. The fact was, Mr. Temple had strolled in rather listlessly that first night, but before he had traveled many yards in bis tour of inspection his attention had been caught by a picture which had so fascinated him that he found it almost impossible to get his own consent to move on and make way for others, and in a very short time he was back again, gazing with rapt absorption. The picture represented an Italian garden, where, beneath a dense shade of palms and ilexes, a hammock was swung, in which a lovely yomfg girl, ia a limp, white gown, was lying at ease, her right hand dawdling with a great fan, and her left thrown up behind her head, the loose sleeve falling back and revealing 8 beautiful, rounded arm. One foot was hid in the meshes of the hammock, and the other, from which the tiny slipper had slipped off at the heel, hung over the side in a posture of absolute ease and inertia. The white robe, made in classic design and decorated with a Greek border, hung over the hammock side and trailed along the dense, green grass. The details of the picture were exquisitely portrayed, but its matchless charm was in the beauty of the young girl's face, which had so marked an individuality that Temple convinced himself at once that it was no creation of an artist's fancy, but a faithful likeness of some living human being. As day after day passed by and the picture grew into his consciousness more and more, h got to know every detail of feature, form, and dress, even to the three little spots on the left arm near

the elbow, which he at first took to be specks on the canvas, but afterwards found were three cleverly painted little moles which must have been on the arm of the model. One evening when he had stood a longer time than usual before the object of his adoration, lost in thought concerning the original of this lovely portraiture, and wondering where the artist, whose name was given as Carlo Guizi, had seen and painted her, he was aroused by the silvery strokes of a magnificent clock which stood near, which reminded him that he must tear himself away from present enjoyment, and go home and answer a letter. The letter was in the form of an invitation, and this was the reply to it : Teas Aunt Saeah. Noone certainly has a kinder or more considerate female relative than I am blessed with, and your delightful letter is one moro proof of this truth. My gratitude, however, strong as it is. does not enable me to do the impossible, and I cannot come down, according to orders, and fall in love with your charming friend, for the reason that X am in love already, and the object of these pre-engaged affections of mine defies the thermometer and remains in the city. "On the whole. I hope this will prove not altogether unsatisfactory to you, as I understand your object concerning me to be, not so much that I shall be in the abstract ensnared, and that I conscientiously assure you that I am. "I am not too fast bound, however, to admit of my coming down for a cursory glance at you, so you may expect me to stay over next Sunday. "Yours affectionately, H. T. "When Mrs. Leaton received this letter she happened to be seated near an open window in conversation with her most intimate confidential friend, to whom she proceeded to read the letter aloud, interrupting herself with various complaints of the provokingness of her

favorite nephew, who, in spite of all her He almost held his breath in the abafiectionate indulgence tf his whims and i sorption of his attention as his eager

foibles, was constantly serving her in this kind of style. As she finished reading and laid the letter down, there was a faint rustling under the window, unregarded by the two ladies, and a young girl, who had been sitting very still sketching the pretty view of wood and river visible

from this point, collected her imple- j made his way to Miss Sevellon's side,

Leaton highly appreciated, though her nephew exhibited no underbred eagerness. The first excitement of his discovery had womofl', and he had resolved upon his course. It was a wonderful thing to find himself, the naxt moment, actually being presented in formal style to the houri of the hammock. Just how Aunt Sarah managed it he did not know, but before long Tom Jerome had gone off in the carriage, and the houri and himself were strolling along together on a shady little woodland path, and he was saying: Have you ever been in Italy, Miss Sevellon ? "Oh, yes; mamma end I spent almost a year there," was the quick response. '"Have you ever had your portrait painted?" was the next abrupt question. Never," said Miss Sevellon, coldly, as if she observed and disproved the bad taste of this informal catechism. "Nor ever posed for un artist?" "Never," in a tone grown positively

I icy.

Mr Temple looked at her, with a gaze of uncontrollable surprise, "Most extraordinary!" he said, half under his breath. His exclamation was not so low, however, but that Miss Sevellon heard it, and it did not serve to modify her expression. She walked along at his side as stately as a white pigeon, her head alert and her manner distant and cool. "You have a motive in misleading me, I suppose," Temple went on, after a momentary pause, "and I can't help believing you are playing a trick on me." "Playing a trick on you, Mr. Temple?" said Gertrudo, indignantly; "how could such an extraordinary notion ever enter into my head, or yours either?" Temple saw he had given offence, ancl

when he was forced to recognize tho possibility that he might be mistaken in his surmise, the fact was not hard to account for. It was very hard indeed, however, to believe in that possibility., and it was only by dismissing the subject from his mind as far as possible that he could carry on the perfectly conventional conversation which he knew to be the only one which his slight acquaintance with his companion

warranted. He made a great effort to be entertaining, and by the time they reached the house he was able to feel that he had doue something toward obliterating the disgraceful impression of his first stvle of address. When the earlv Sunday dinner-time had arrived, and Miss Sevellon appeared without a bonnet, having changed her church dress for a more relaxed style of garment, the likeness to the picture was stronger than ever. It was not likeness, it was positive identity; and when, during the afternoon, Horace found himself near Mrs. Sevitlon, in spite of all good resolutions he had made, in defiance of every instinct of good taste, his intense interest in this matter led him on until he had contrived to turn the conversation on Italy, and he then asked Mrs Sevellon if none of the Italian artists had ever prevailed on her daughter to allow herself to be painted. Mrs. Sevellon had just responded in the negative, and was going to say something more, when he became aware that her daughter was near them in the recesss of the window, and that she heard his question. And this was not all! He saw by the impetuous flush that came to her face, and the look with which she glanced directly at him for an instant, and then away, that she resented as well as heard. One evening Mrs. Leaton's guests got up some tableaux for the amusement of the company, and Mr. Temple, who had declined to act, found himself seated on the front seat beside his aunt, a very listless spectator, except when Miss Sevellon figured in the scenes which was very often, and she was the acknowledged beauty of the party. He had left his seat and strolled over to a corner very near the stage, when the curtain went up for the last scene. It was fortunate for him that every eye was fixed on the stage, for otherwise the great start and smothered exclamation he gave vent to must have been observed. And no wonder he was startled, for just below his very eyes, in a hammock ingeniovsly swinging! in the midst of a clump of large shrubs that admirably simulated a garden, was Miss Sevellon in an attitude and costume

that exactly reproduced the pieture. 1

eve took in every detail, even to the

Greek pattern in the border of her dress and the antique silver coins in the bracelet on her arm, and yes ! there in a little group, near the rounded elbows, were the three little dark specks. Gould circumstancial evidence go farther ? As soon as the tableaux were over he

ments together and quickly glided awav. Mr. Temple arrived at his. aunt's on Sunday morning too late for the regular breakfast, and when he emerged from the dining-room after his tete-a-tete meal with the hostess, he was immediately hurried off to church by that en terprising lady, who had kept her carriage waiting that she might enjoy his companionship. "All the rest have gone," she said, and we shall be a little lite. Gertrude Sevellon walked with Tom Jsrome." This was the only allusion she deigned to make to the young lady who had formed the whole subject of her letter. Mr. Temple had been some time in

church before he caught sight of the

eager, yet timid. To his delight she saw that she eeemed to welcome him, and he half fancied from her manner that she made a hasty resolution to let by gon es be by gon es, and to m ak e friends with him. She was so flushed with pleasure and admiration, and so surrounded herself by appreciative feeling and praise, that it seemed difficult to her, perhaps, to be severe upon another. She still wore the beautiful white costume, in which she looked far lovelier than the picture had portrayed her, and his delight knew no bounds when he found himself presently absolutely leading her to a quiet seat in the hall, and supplying her with refreshment? from the supper-room. When

they were seated together on a wicker

familiAi fiimrA of Mr. Trtm ?f aroma, und I sofa, eatincr their ice in a frieudlv tete-

whpn with a fpfllinir of lazv interest. h i a-tete. the vounsr fellow beorirae so em-

leaned forward a little so that he might get a glimpse of the lady standing next to Mr. Jerome and sincrinir out of the

boldened by his success as to commit a grevious attx pas. As his companion raised her arm to carry her spoon to

same book with him, the delicate, clean-1 her mouth, her sleeve fell backward and

cut profile startled him with a sense of ! revealed again the three little beauty familiarity. His heart gave a bound as spots. It was too much for him. he connected it with the face in the I "Oh, Mias Sevellon" he burst forth,

picture and saw the resemblance. This girl woro a little close bonnet and a trim dress which incased her charming figure in neat compactness but face and figure were the tame. When the service was ended he leaned forward and whispered to his aunt: "Make Torn' JewmS go with you and let me walk home' with Mfe Sevellon. ? This was a coming ta terms that Miss

and full cf gelf-reprr aah. And he could scarcely wonder at her being resentful at having her word doubted again in this bold way; but how could he help it ? What was he to do ? He wandered away, fettling restless and miserable, and took no special note of his surroundings until he found himself near Mrs. Sevellon, who, seated in a doorway, was looking on at the dancers, among whom Temple now saw the young lady from whom he had just been so ruthlessly parted. To his delight Mrs. Sevellon received him more kindly than she had ever done before, for her manner also had revealed the fact that she shared her daughter's just indignation. It seemed now, however, that she had shared also in her daughter's spirit of forgiveness, for she looked at Mr. Temple as if she, too, were willing to forget the past. Perhajs mother and daughter had entered into an agreement to this effect! It looked so. Mr. Temple approached her with some hearty words of commendation of the tableaux, to which she replied, as if deliberately: "Yes, they were pretty tableaux, I thought the last especially. It did carry me back to see G ertrude in that dress. It was an old toilet she used to wear when we were in Italy, one idle summer when we spent our whole time iu a dolce far niente, and Gertrude was half the day in the hammock which hung in our garden. I used to try to get her to devote a littlo time to her painting, for she really has talent, bnt she wa? so lazy, and the old Italian whose services I was o fortunate te secure for a few lessons found her incorrigible. The lessons usually consisted of a morning chat, while Gertrude lounged in a hammock, and he made little sketches of trees and an old fountain near by, which never seemed to come to anything, for he always thrust

them out of sight and 6aid they were failures when I tried to look at them. He was always urging me to let him paint Gertrude, but she objected to having her portrait painted, and positively refused to pose for him. So the lessons came to nothing, and the courteous old man advised me not to constrain my daughter's art, and wouldn't allow me to pay him a cent, tl.ough he had come several times, and really given up a good deal of his time to us." She was a decidedly voluable personage, Mrs. Sevellon, and she poured forth this stream of talk half automatically, giving a large part of her attention to the dancers all the time. Temple saw that she had actually been to preoccupied to seem to notice that she had been treading on ground that to him would naturally be forbidden. He was indebted to the same preoccupation for the fact that the startled look on his face, as the flood of light was unconsciously shed upon the subject that had puzzled him so long, was unnoticed. "What was the old artist's name?" he asked. "Guizi, Carlo Guizi," said Mrs. Sevellon, innocently, keeping time with her fan to the motion of the dancers' flying feet. The chain of evidence was now complete. The old fellow might well afford to decline to pay for those hours spent by Gertrude's hammock under the palms and ilexes. He hud made good use of them? "What can I do to atone for my shameful treatment of you?" said Gertrude with a bewitching humility, when Horace had given his explanution and made his peace. "You can do this," said Horace, "You can consent to my becoming the purchaser of $he picture, a thing my mind ia bent on." "I don't know about that," said Gertrude, doubtingly. "I have never given my picture to any one, and I always said I never would, except to " she flushed and hesitated, and then went on, "but I would have no power to prevent it now, that wretched Italian haa stolen it; it is his, to do as he chooses with, I suppose." "Never mind the Italian for the present," said the young man eagerly. "What were you goiog to say? Wh was to be the exception in the case?" Miss Sevellon's reply was so embar rassed and incoherent that its significance can only be guessed at; it is possible, however, that Mr. Temple found it satisfactory, for the next day he bought the picture, and the next autumn the original of the picture became hi9 wife. Gertrude always declared she was jealous of the picture, to which Horace would reply that, as the picture was his first love, she consequently could only be his second, and that she would have to be satisfied with that condition of affairs.

An Incident of the Season. In a car on the New York Central are seated a gentleman and a lady. The gentleman is bronzed, apparently by residence in a hot climate. His hair and whiskers arc jet black, but the crow's foot is visible at either temple. The lady is attired in the height of fashion, in a style suitable to youth and beautv. Gentleman Would you object to having the window up? Many years of Australian life have made me very sensitive to draits. Lady (aside) That voice! (To gentleman) O, not in the least. (Aside again) It is Theodore. Gentleman (emphatically) Thank you ! (Aside) Those accents ! Lady Did you speak? Gentleman I beg your pardon. Your voice recalled recollections of fifty years ago. It reminded me of one in other times, bat no matte. Your features, too, are strangely like hers only, if you will allow me to say so, the complexion is even more brilliant. Lady -Oh! Might I ask her name? Gentleman Her name was Hose. Lady It is my own. G en tl em an Is it possible I am speak

ing to her daughter?

the lounge is broken. How's that foi

hotel nature ? "My dear sir" he replied, as he paused for a moment from his work of pigeonholing the noon mail, "I was obliged to put you in a room just vacated 1 y a Western merchant and his wife. Pie got drunk and broke the lounge and cracked the glass. She took away with her two towels and two cake of fine soap. He is responsible for the ink stains, and he scuffed two table napkins into his pocket and carried them off, and she broke a dollar pitcher and a seventy-cent pane of glass. We plugged up the burners because they lighted the whole, five and went off to the theater. I think he carried off one of the keys to the door, and I know she cribbed a bouquet holder from the parlor. Hows that for traveling human nature?" I was silent for the want of argument, and he presently continued: "Here are half a dozen telegrams and a score of letters for men who will call around in due season and inquire for them, or want them forwarded to points in Maine or Texas, and give me my trouble for the profits. And perhaps JouYl like to buy some of tliese dozen worthless checks for ten cents on the

Lady You are speaking to herself, j dollar, or take some of tho score of

trunks in the storeroom and settle the

bills for which they are held. Oh, yes oh, yesl This human nature is a big thing, and the longer you live the more you will bo convinced that all the advantage is not on the hotel man's side." iiounod's TVorkgt Mdlle. de Boret's synojfcis in tho Fortnightly of Gounod's views on art and artists is one of the most instructive and agreeable pieces of condensation on a large subject that has appeared for a long while. The great composer has a isingularly happy faculty of crystallized statement, and he is one of those rarely gifted and cultivated minds who can treat art as a whole instead of being a mere specialist. He says the scholar will stillt look for examples in masterpieces, but solely in order to see how they are built up. His inspiration he will find by studying his own heart. His favorite counsel is, "We must neither look wholly within or wholly without." He describes the Real by itself as simply a servile copying, and the Ideal by itself as the meandering oE a will-o'-ihe-wisp. A work of art., he affirms, is the result of uniting imagination and reality. Itis at once finite and infinite.

lady, who lived at VimUov, not iar "c T: V -m- " i linn I imnt nrf liAnr tr itrirliin vni

from the castle where George III. aud -M , rt . v t ,

ueen Charlotte resided. The King . . . ;1;-,.,.

Gentleman Heavens! Why, what? Xo, surely. Lady Yes, indeed. Gentleman Hut that fresh excuse my rudeness that youthful color! Lady That raven hair! Gentleman I'll be candid with you it's dyed. Lady I'll return your confidence. I owe this bloom to cosmetics. Gentleman Enameled, love I My Boat,' any own lost Hose found 1 My

KoseMnfadedl

r Your Rose will fade no more.

SM had been rendered beautiful.

Gentleman Oh, how beautiful! Let me foJtl thee in my arms. (They embrace as well as they can. The dye of his whiskers blackens her face, and the paint on her cheeks comes off on the end of his nose.) Gentleman Beautiful ! Lady Beautiful forever! Brakeman Albany ! All out for Saratoga! Texas Sifting s. George IIL on Shakespeare. A fashionable authoress of the last century was Miss Fannie Burney, whose "Evelina delighted Dr. Johnson and Sir Joshua Reynolds, When she had become famous she was the guest of Mrs. Delaney, a venerable, culturc4

A FLOKAL EXHIBITION.

aud Queen frequentlv visited their

neighbor, and shy Miss Fanny at such times sought her own room. But one afternoon she and Mrs. Delaney were in the drawing-room, when suddenly the door opened. A large man entered, who shut the door without speaking. The star on his breast revealed to Mis Burney that she stood in the pressence of the King. She retreated to the wall. The King advanced to his hostess and in a loud whisper asked if that was Miss Burney. Upon being assured that it was he drew near and entered into conversation with her. "But what what how was it how came you how happened it what what what?" he asked, in his usual odd manner. Believing he referred to "Evelina," she teplied that it had been written at odd hours for amusement. fcBut your publishing your printing how was that what what?" he asked; to which she answered, "I thought, sir, it would look well ia print," at which he was vastly amused. Soon she became familiar with the presence of royalty, and on one occasion Lad the advantage of hearing his Majesty's criticisms on some famous men. Voltaire he pronounced a monster, and Shakespeare he considered little better than a fool. "Was there ever," cried out this royal Solomon, "such stuff as great part of Shakespeare? only one must not say bo. But what think you what what is there not sad stuff what what what?" Fanny Burney ventured to assert that the sad stuff was mixed with many excellencies ; but he interrupted her to ejaculate: "Oh, I know it is not to be said but it is true only it's Shakespeare, and nobody dares abuse him ; one should be stoned for saying so."

aiders not a creative but a fertilizing

element. His judgments upon the great musical composers are very valuable, and particularly his estimates of what is called modern or scientific music. His advice to beginners is: "Listen to your heart ; govern it by your reason, and do not overload yourself with cumbersome baggage. Inspiration and counterpoint are the true musician's only baggage." From the specimens of his writing collected in the periodical named, it is clear his published works must be a treasure-house of suggestion for musical students and interesting to all intellectual people Pittsburgh Chronicle Telegraph.

Afraid of Catechisms Six-year-old Helen, from the Capital City, is spending the vacation with grandma in Springfield. One very hot dav last week she staved in the kitchen when there was a roaring fire, not heeding at all the hints thrown out from time to time that there were cooler places. Finally grandma became quite out of patience. "Helen," she said, "I will noi have you in this hoi; kitchen. Go into vour plav hoxise at once !" "1 can't grandma, I'm so afraid." "You are afraid ? What are vou afraid of ?" ''Why, grandma, there is a wab and a catechism iu my play house, and I always wag; 'fraid of catechisms." "What can the child be talking about?" And grandma put on her specs and went to the play house and found a wasp and a caterpillar. Woman's News.

"you really most let me explain to you now why 1 it was that you must have been mistaken about not having had your picture painted it It " He stopped short. Miss Sevellon had risen to her feet with a motion of resentful anger, and, without giving him time for another word, had joined some peOr pie who were passing on to the hallroom, and left him alone, humiliated

The Missionary Fund, A Texas gentleman being unwell could not attend church on Sunday, not long ago, so he gave his little son a quarter to put on the plate. When the youth came home his father asked him what was. the text? bnt he replied that he did not know, as he had forgotten it ''Did you forget everything?" asked the exasperated parent. H No," replied the boy calmly, "I remembered not to put that quarter on the plate. "Why, you are a regular little heathen." "I'm a little heathen, am I? Well, for once ih$ aeathen got the money that was coming to them, which is more than could have happened if it had

j been put on the plate.

Physicians and Persian Women When a Persian lady is ill aud requires the attentions of a physician, she must be concealed by a screen, and he makes his inquiries without seeing her. She may be permitted to put out her hand and wrist in order that her pulse may be felt, but only when actually necessary. Among the lower classes in the villages a little more freedom is permitted in consulting a doctor, for they live a more communal life, and the physicians in the rural districts are itinerants, who on arriving at a village open an office under a broad plane tree by the side of a murmuring brook. Of course veiled, the women flock around him, and he prescribes heroic doses, sometimes adding a charm to be worn over the suffering member, consisting of an extract from the Koran inside of .in amulet. After dosing the village and carefully collecting every fee on the spot, the rustic jlSsculapius prudently decamps to the next village. If the patient recovers, praise U given to God as well as to the doctor; if he or she dies, the result is laid to kismet, or fate, but at the same time it is well that the doctor should not be on hand, for human wrath is liable to overcome faith in the decrees of destiny. S. G. IK Benja tnin, in October (Jhautauquan Bested by a Hotel Clerk. "Human nature, as seen in a big hotel, is rather envious, isn't it?" I queried of a day clerk as I leaned on tho counter. 4Y-e-s," he slowly and dryly replied. "For instance," I oontimvO. 'I have a chandelier with five humors in my room, but three of the burners are plugged up and cannot be lighted. Tho soap is eheap and poor, the looking-

glass is cracked, the warble-topped stand is stained with ink, and one log of ;

The Polaris9 Chronometer. On the desk of Edson B. Brace, chief clerk f the bureau of equipment and recruiting, in the Navy Department, is a little rosewood case, bound and inlaid with brass and bronze. It is in the, form of a cube, about eighteen inches high, and contains a chronometer such as is used on all naval vessels. This little instrument has quite a tragic history aiid is held of considerable value. Is was the ship's chronometer of the unfortunate Polaris that was ser..t out on an Arctic expedition by the Navy Department in 1871. When the Polaris

was nipped iu the ice Capt. Hall saved this instrument and some other thing from the vessel. As long as Capt. Haifa survived he kept the chronometer with him. When he perished it was buried in the Arctic snows and abandoned. , This was someUme in 1872. For fou:.

winters it lay buried in the ttnow and ice., In 1876 Capt. Nares of the British Navy, now Sir George Nares, then in command of tbe last royal expedition to the Arctic region, discovered this chronometer at Newman's Bay. He dug it out of the snow and took it to England with him on his return. It had then been buried in the snow for four years in a region where the murcury sinks to 104 degress below freezing point. It wan found to be in perfect order and was wound and ran all right as soon as taken from its cold bed. On retnrring to England Capt Nares turned the instrument over to the British admiralty office, from whence it was sent as a present to this government. "With all this experience it loses only a single second in twenty-four hour&. Wah ington Star

How a London Hou Was Arranged for Fashionable , Wedding:. The house in London at which a very pretty wedding took place recently wai quite a floral exhibition. Palms and ferns were arranged in groups everywhere, hall staircases, landings. Blocks of ice, with wreaths of fern, were placed everywhere, for it was on of the most torrid days of the season. On one landing was a block of ice standing close to a fountain, in whict were floating waters lilies. Perhapi u fountain" will not be the right expre sion. It was a miniature waterfall, be low which was a miniature lake it which water lilies floated and a larg white china swan seemed to be swimming. Along the banisters, at close inter vals, were large bouquets of white rosea white pinks and other white floweri tied with large bows, and ends of whiU watered silk ribbons. The receptiot rfbni doors were arched with whit flowers and ferns. Garlands of th Slime were festooned around the waIIs in the fireplaces were blocks of ice sur rounded with small palms and whit geraniums. The mantelpieces wen canopies of white flowers, gardenias anc stephanotis being most uromineni among them. ' Iu the center of the room was a huge bell, entirely composed of tiie same flowers, white roses and maidenhair ferna The clapper was in the shape of a smali white plush dove, holding in its beak i spray of orange blossoms. In the dining room there was a long buffet at om end of the room and small tables dotted about. Over the sideboard wan s banner of white Liberty silk, on whict was written in rosebuds the name of th contracting parties and the date, witt just the words, "Till death do us part The buffet, which was a long dinin table, had, of course, the weddingf cakt in the center: it was of three tiers, an2 covered with centrifugal sugar over th icing q d decorated with natural flowers. 1 here was also some '.wonderful emblematic figures, which space wUl not allow rue to describe here. Th floral decorations were of both kinds, flat and raised. The flat floral decor lions represented Cupid's Ikw and ar iovs made ith small white roses and feathery grasses. Silver baskets in the shape of the wooden baskets carried bj children at the seaside, held white iris, white roses, gloxinias, sprays of myrtls and orange blossoms. The smaller ts bles had sprays of white rose garlands of the Louis XIV. period laid on them, and over the dining-room door was o gigantic floral horseshoe made of whic dowers and maidenhair fern.

in a:

Warned in Time. Yabsley So young Bjinx is to marry Miss Grirnme, I hear. I rmght have proposed to her myself if a rat had not run into the room one evening when I was calling on her. Wickwire And when she jumped up and screamed you got digustod, I suppose ? You shouldn't be critical, Yabsley. A woman can't help acting that way. Yon musn't expect a woman to act otherwise. Yabsley But she didn't do anything of the kind. She coolly picked up a book and smashed the life out of Mr. Bat the flrst round. She has entirely too much nerve to suit me. Term Haute Express.

A Model Sou in Hard Lack. An incident occurred in a neighbor-

rural district last spring bv which

the beauty and strength of the holy tic which binds father and sou were strikingly illustrated. The scene was a tavern; time, evening. Stranger drives tc the door, alights, enters bar-room and thus accosts the lundlord: MI say, yew, ain't thare a Squir L lives here in your place?" les, sir. "Wall, I heerd he had an Irishman at worked for him last year that wants to aire. D'you know him?" "I do, sir, but he has let himself; 1 have hired him." " Have, eh? Waal, that's bad. Don't know any good likely feller as wants to let reasonable, dove?" "I do not, sir." "Thunderation! I've had the darndest luck ever ye see; here I be, time t go to work most, frost out of the ground, team iu prime order, and haven't no help. My name's B , I live out in B ; got considerable of a

farm there. Last year ray brother helped me, but he got so along in the fall he wanted wages, and I couldn't raaly 'ford to pay him none, so he quit. Waal, then I took the old man, my father, arter work was 'bout over, an' I've kept him all winter long, calculating he'd help me this year, and here, 'bout threo weeks ago, the contrary old skunk would go anof watch with a neighbor as was sick, took cold, and darned if he didn't die ! so I jes as good's lost all his keepin' and haven't no help, after all. Waal, good day, I must hunt up somebody." And' the model son de parted. -Boston Traveler. X Noble Sacrifice. At the breaking out of the War of thm Rebellion there lived iu New York City an old lady by the name of Hall. She had one son Thomas by name. lie being her only child, all her hopes and prayers were centered on him. With them lived her nephew, Thomas' cousin. The two young men were- of an age and looked so much alike that they were frequently taken for twins) and as frequently taken for each other. At the commencement of the war John Hall for that was his cousin's name enlisted in a voluntary regiment and went to the front for three years. When the draft came Thomas was drafted and was forced to perform a duty which he did not relish. One day, ia quarreling with his Captain, he shot a ad killed him, then fled as a deserter. He was traced to his homo by a detail from his regiment, and when they surrounded the house and demanded him to surrender his Cousin John, who had just been discharged, gave the dis charge papers to Thomas and surrendered himself to the squad as the deserter. His aunt had always been as kind as a mother to him, and he knew that the shock of having her son shot as a deserter would break her heart; also, that he had no one to love him, as Tom had, he decided to sacrifice his life that tney two might live together. He He was then taken back and bore the punishment of death for lm cousin's ciime. Philadelphia Press.

Not in His Line. "Doctor," said young Mrs. Filomel, with muuh concern, "I hope you can do something for Charles. He has just come home from his club. He went awav as well as he ever Mas, and now he cannot stand upon his i oL I'm terribly alarmed." "Very likely," re lied Dr. Lancet, "but I cannot help him. Y -u nin-tcall in a surgeon. I thmk oWib fc:t ate a little out o. mv lin n B -tou Trau cripL

A Sick Mao. A sick man expressed a desire for apple dumpling, and his wife made dozen. A little sou sat by the bedside watching the dumplings disappear one by one. After eleven had been devoured the ehildsaid: "Pa, can X have a duiapling?" And the invalid, hrting into the last of the toothncme de iNrie- said: 'Oe way, my aon, four t her is ick,"