VOL. UII TBI VIMD AID STREAM. k TWT AMII WTMHAG ftvwn the GROUND. MUYWI IT* wtverr GLEAM the herte thai hnng ar. im.t The horAerx of that winding rnam k fTftly etream. a r'aeid stream, k eofUy gliding, ha hfui atream k lww> name arandenng from the akv, Lurht a* the whi-pet of a dream ; He fait the erhenong srraaeee by. And pwx wtoopad to k the *uvam - The pretty itnaa the flat.end ntrcatn. TV alii, yet unretaotan'. stream The water m the wind panned o'er, fawn n-w*rd many a elanemg bea*. and quivered mere and more. Aud trvpuod atone a tametier • uvaiu The Am ter.d *t ream the mmpenugetream. 1W food, delighted, sitk stream AWIT the airy wand- rer flea TO vlmi the fletde with hkeeom- teem. TO wfr%hw£ etTi am . and r ven hlne. Aud ft tlew that little etrvam - The hCit d etream the ohft'el atromm. The and fomaken. lonely etreaiu. That eau tee wind no more .-*nn tai. He am en yet the fi Mm T ditiu. H"t on tie me>an'hohr tract tVaapAa a uc w< nt that .ittie einam The oht ated el ream the hopek-a* etream The t ver-murmurm*: aoaima itr> am. The Last Sixpence. 1 KU.UA. nvaher dear, you wonhl not feel HARVY D YMNAU maontrilnto your mite MOD thr PAR -farest giH tweuty. pressing Ho her aged couqeui ion's hands ttie si\- PEURT ahach C\**ituted all the monetary wealth THRU ]>WE*N>L. "There's quite EMUTCH BREAD ami butter ami tea for break - fa M. in th morning, ami if 1 get up very early, AS I mean to .KV. 1 si tall have finished Mrs. Smith's DRESS by three o'clock, and thr'S sure to pay me JINN ly I take it to her." WE'VE NO camile or firing in the "-IkuTt v trouble ah ut that; when we c awe hack frooi church it'll tie quite time t-c hard w Aet say anything more, taH take the sspmv and come along, for the church Wk have almost ceased." F *r district. A<:v*nity makes us acquainted with somuge companions, ami Alfred Willis, when he qutted England two years preti oasly to sct-k'his fortune in Australia, little drv&tai that the comf. viable home in width he had left his mother and bet Implied wife would have been 90 soon brx Wen up, and that by alow hut sure degrees they would wlstt sunk to the poverty they now exper- Fhn. the age of fourteen Lucy had lteen able to earn her own living, so that when Alfmi after losing nearly all his capital gaye op the grocery business he hail been deluded into taking, his only anxiety wu p a prsyiuon for his mother. The $2,500 he had left when he was clear of lus business he. In & too confiding moment, lent to a man in wham he trusted to the ulnxut, wfth directions that the interest therefrom must le paid to his mother ; but ere Al fred had reached his journey's end his friend was a bankrupt, and Mm Willis was pen- "TrodWes w-kJom pomes smgly, so just at this time Lucy was seized with rheumatic fever, and for six months was unable to Xhev were alone in the world, for Lucy ■was an orphan, and Mrs. Willis, whilst having no relatives of her own, knew noth ing of her late huslwud's family, who years TieTorr had founded a borne in another Rapidly their few worldly possessions wen- disposed of, until at last they were irlad to find shelter in tin* small—the very small —front room they now occupied. They ti*d lieard several times from the much lowed Alfred; lit owing to the un cerMuaty of his movements they had not been able to reply, so that he knew noth iMTof the misfortunes that had befallen them. His last letter was a bright, choer ful epistle, full of hope, announcing tha he was now far better circumstanced than when he left England: that lie intended returning home l5 r the Juno, the next siearoer leaving Melbourne. To crown their sorrows, a month Itefore has expected return news came that the Juno had foundered in mid-ocean —soqe dozen men, among whom Alfred Willis was aoi included, alone surviving to tell tlie sail twk. - - What a sweet relief was it to enter the - porta of tiod's house, and leave la-liiml litem the crowded streets and the mob of listless loiterers and frivolous pleasun-seek- Outside ail was noise, bustle and <**ufusion; within, a peaceful calm, Ivokcu <:% In trim silvery tones of the aged minis in, as in simple earnest language he plejad d a cam* very dear to his heart. The Sunday service was the one relaxa tion Mrs Willis and her adopted enjoyed ; w<* <* line They were never absent; and •* occasions suoh as the present, when relief for certain purposes in connection with their religion was asked for, tne [plate woa never handed *to thein in vain* Never, however, in their recent experiences ot poverty had their circumstances been so low as now. Lucy for the past month bait been unable to perform her usual quantity of work, so that the wage-fund n|on which tin* two women solely relied had diminished to a onvs|>oiiding extent, until their sole (villaining coin was the sixpence the dispo sal of which formed the subject of discus sion ere they left heme. The vicar was well acquainted with Uic resources of his congregation, and knew they could not contribute much |o (he cause lie pleaded; bul, as he re renuuked, they might at least give a por tion to Gxi's service and that the widow's mite tendered willingly was dearer iu His sight titan the gold grudgingly contributed by the wealthy. Hut even at this up|>eal, when Mrs. Willis observed the hectic flush upon Lucy a check, and noted how the ex ert km of even walking to the church told U|HMI her, she felt half inclined to harden her heart in favor of her young companion, and to keep the last sixpence in her pocket. Hut l.uey read Mrs. Willis's thought, ami whispering in her ear the words "God will provide, * the money was given up in a trice, and the old lady's heart leaped for joy at the self sacrifice which had been ac complished. "Now, mother,'" said Lucy, when they got within sight of their alxxie, "we wont sit up in the dark talking, so as to lose the glow our walk has produced, but go straight to lied, as 1 must lie up early." Loungn gagainst the door-post, with his hands in his pockets, and surveying the outer world as well as he could through clouds of tobacco smoke he was diffusing, was the person Mrs. Willis aud Lucy owned as their landlord. "There's a gen'elman In-en here asking for you," he observed to Mrs. Willis, with a tug at his pipe at almost every word, "and said how he wanted you partie'ler. You see what you lose by going to church. He left a note, 1 think for you upstairs. I didn't sjieak to him myself, but my old 'oqman did, and if you want to see her you'll find her at the lied Llou, in the jug bar." As neither Mrs, Willis nor Lucy had any wish to seek tlicir laudladv in such a place, they borrowed a candle from a lodger, who was not quite so badly off as themselves, in order to read the note said to have been left in their room. "I'm afraid it's from Mrs. Smith,mother," said Lucy, "if so, it's a blowing up, for I told her I'd make an effort to liave lier dross done for by last night, ahri, as you know, 1 did my best." If the room in which they lived looked uninviting in the day-time it appeared far more dismal when viewed by the depress light of a tallow candle. But the residents won- pretty well used to the aspect of the piacc, and therefore devoted their attention to the uote directly. The flickering flame revealed it lying upon the table. Lucy held the candle and took the note ; but no sooner did her eyes rest ujwmit than she turned to an ashy paleness, aud leant against her ceen practiced upon them, he who had for years been the cherished darl ing of their hearts had been given back to them once more. . Ay. and was in the room even now as he quickly let them know, when he thought their agitation had somewhat abated, and that he could safely emerge from the hid ing place he hail sought beneath the bed. Hearing from the residents of the house in wliieb he left his mother and his l>etrotlied that they deemed him dead, and fearing the effect his sudden appearance might have upon them, he had left the note with in their sight, in order to announce the fact of his existence as gently as he could; whilst the frequent visits made to the Red Lion by their landlord and landlady gave him opportunity for secretly returning to the house, and seeking a hiding place where he could watch the effect of his ruse. The compassionate fellow-lodger who had lent Lucy the candle waited a long time ere it was returned; indeed, as a matter of fact, that particular illuminating medium was not returned at all, for it had nearly burnt itself out ere any one remembered that it had been borrowed; but really there was every excuse, for Alfred had so much to tell: How at first he had beeu unfortu in Australia; how, in a fit of desperation, he had resolved to try the diggins, und was wonderfully successful, getting in less than six months some nuggets that realized him $10,(XX); how he resolved not to take his money with him on board the Juno, bnl have it sent over on some future occasion; how, when the steamer foundered lie had managed to secure himself to a broken spar and after forty-eight hours' exposure had been picket! up by a passiug vessel; and finally, the difficulty he had had in finding his mother and betrothed in their new abode. Tlicn, with tears in their eyes and a smile upon their lips, they told him of the dispo sal of their last six|>ence, and of their con fiding trust in Him who, after a night of MILLHEIM. I'A., THURSDAY, OCTOBER '2, 1879 f sorrow, sendeth joy in the morning. And truly their sorrow had passed away oven us a tale that it told. Keoovorlng Lout Timber. That timber iu conaiuerahle quanti ty and ot substantial value is daily found floating on the surface of the Lawrence river is well known, but that i large deposits ot liiuucr ,ic sunken at the bottom of the river at various points adjacent to Montreal is a laet that will by no uieans lie so readily credited. Such, nevertheless, is the case, and daily the timber is brought to the surface by gangs of inhabitants and others, whosell it to dealers. Tlte bot tom ok Lougui'iiil bay, umr iho shore, would appear to be literally covered with timber, and during the past lew mouths a number ot men in canoes,and provided with chains and grappling hooks, have been busily engaged in bringing up the logs, tloating them ashore, where they are hauled uwuy by horses and piled for sale. The timber consists almost entirely of white oak and walnut, it lias been estimuted that most of it has been in the river at least from thirty to forty years, and has formed portions of the numerous tim ber rafts that, in transit from the West to Quebec, have been wrecked or dam aged in or above the Lachine Rapids. The length of time it would require even so dense a wood as white oak to become sufficiently soaked with water as to sink to the bottom of the river aud cause it there to lie as a stoue,war rants the belief that it has been there at least during the period named. Our informant stales that the timber is in a perfect state of preservation, the action of the water or iusects having iu no way impaired its texture or a fleeted its value. Some of the logs brought up at Longucuil are two feet in diameter and from thirty to sixty feet in length. They command, when delivered iu Montreal, from thirty to thirty-live cents per foot. Timber bess of similar character are staled to exist at many punts along the river below the city, where logs like that of Longncuil oc cur; indced.it is difficult to know the number or extent of layers of valuable wood resting on the boftom ot the no ble water highway that flows past that city, and which a short time only may develop. Mules Iu Mines. Colliery mules sometimes live many years without seeing daylight, as they are only taken out of the mines when work is entirely suspended. The inule are used in hauling cars of coal from the various parts of the mine to the foot or slope of the shait from where it is hoisted to the surface by steam. The mules go to work with the miners and continue until evening. They are sta bled in the mine and are carefully at tended to. Strange to say, coats of mules working in collieres are singu larly smooth or glossy—and miners at tribute it to the coal dust that seilleson the hair and polishes it. The iead mule iu a team always carries a miner's lamp attached to his collar; but min ers say that the lamp is unnecessary as the muleg never get oil' the track in the dark. In some places where it is not convenient to haul the cars inules are trained to push them, and it is not un couiuiou to see a dozen of the aniuiu.s working in that way. iu pushing cars the uiuie is provided with a heavy breast-pad instead of the ordinary har ness. The ample time the mules have for reflection does not howevei, seem to improve their dispositions, as every mining report contains accounts of men and boys who have been kicked to d ath or severely injured by them. Owing to the constant teasing of the driver boys, nudes occasionally became so savage that they cannot be approached. How AUMUIM nuiiUied Muket. In 1777, John Adams was appointed commissioner to France, to take the place of Silas Deane, and embarked on board tlie Boston frigate. In the course of the voyage, the commander of the Boston saw a sail, which carried] the flag of the enemy, and the temptation to engage with her was so strong, that, although contrary to his orders, which were limited to carrying Mr. Adams to France, he determined, if possible, to capture her. Having obtained the permission of the commissioner, he made sail in chase; and when coming up with the enetny, he represented the danger of remaining 011 deck, and in sisted upon Mr. Adams' retiring below, out of gun shot. Having seen his charge safely deposited with the sur geon, the captain returned to the deck; the courses were clewed up, all hands beat to quarters, bulkheads down, decks sanded, matches lit, and the light begun. In the midst of it, the captain saw, to his surprise, that Mr. Adanis had es caped his confinement below, and, with musket in hand, was doing the duty ot a marine with great dexterity and com posure. He immediately went to him and said, "My duly, sir, is to carry you unhurt to France, and as you are un willing to go under hatches of your own accord,- It is my duty to put you there;" and seizing the future President of the republic in his arms, lie had him con veyed to place of safely, and took meas ures to keep him there, which were effectual. Qenius is sometimes arrogant; know ledge is always diflident. A Proleaaor'a IJiitchnuM of Krtort. Dr. B , who ft as for many years associated with the University f Vtr giluia, was noted for his quickness of retort and some of his repartees, which are ludiug out of oontemporary mem ory, are worthy of preservation. Once, many years ago, being on a visit to Washington, lie thought lie re cognized a Irlend lit the uiau who was immediately before him. "How are you?" ho said, clapping the supposed friend tiimiliurly on the shoulder. t "My name Is Hull, sir." "I beg your pardon." said the Prc - fossor. "I was looking for the Colo nel." Dn another occasion, as he was walk ing, looking intently at something in the street, a man coming iu the oppo site direction, who was gazing with equal earnestness into a shop window, ritu shoulder to shoulder against htm. The stranger drawing himself up in extreme hauleur said : • " Why did you run against me?" With equal severity the professor answered in exact Imitation of his ques lioner's tone and manner: "For precisely the aftme reason that you rait against me," anil the encoun ter ended in a good n&tured laugh. A gentleman coining into tils office, one duy said: "Doctor, why do you keep your room so hot? It is like an oven." *'l must," he answered promptly, "for It is here that I make my bread." Many years ago this incident was tohi in one of the magazines, bqt the point was somewhat missed, us the con tributor made it bake instead of make. On a visit to a New York publishing house, against which he had a claim for six hundred dollars, he was usher ed into the office where one of the firm sat ou a high stool, shelling letters The professor stood awaiting recognition* but no notice ws tirken of him. Finally the small business man twisted himself around on li|s perch, and said in the most auperoilous of kones: K . "What?" " Aiiki," said the professor, handing tlurofder for tile irffkhcy.* 4 The business was settled without an lAllier word. \ very tiresome cfvTT engineer had been vexing the righteous soul of one of the University profe-utors, who for a joke and to rid himself of the nuisance sent lii in to Dr. R with his engi neering schemes, as to a congenial and sympathetic soul. He therefore came with high hopes, and unfolded his schemes several times with wearisome multiplication of details to the devoted professor, when the listener's impa tience made Itself felt. The engineer continued to say. ".instom? moment, L'rofessor uue thing more." Finally his hearer's much tired patience show ed signs of utterly giving way, where upon the patuulcc again said ; "I only want to show you one thing more, 1 have invented a short method of boring mountains, which i think will prove very valua ble." "My dear sir," burst forth the wear ied, listener, "if you would only invent a short method of boring individuals you would confer a lasting favor on the race." The engineer departed. Hi* U'i.HlA. He stepped into a green grocer's with a vacant, weary, careworn look on his face. "Do you want some potatoes?" "1 never eat them. 1 can't remember exactly what I came in for." "Perhaps you ? \vant some coffee?" "Ain't it funny I can't remember?" remarked the strknger, as lie scratched his chin with the back ol his hand, and scanned everything behind the counter, iu a wild but ineffectual effort to brush up his memory. "I>o you want milk ?" "Mo, that ain't it." "Is it macaroni,mustard 4 chow-chow, soap or wine-jelly?" "None of litem, sir." " Possibly you want a small measure ot beets?" "Indeed I do not. Then his eyes sparkled and he said : "i have It now. I remember what I came in for; it all couies back to liie like a dream of iove." "What do you want?" "Well, now, it's as plain as day. Wasn't it funny I didn't think of it be fore?" "It was rather strange; but what will you have ?" "You won't get mad, will you?" "Mo, sir." "Well, then, I'll tell you. I just stepped in here to ask you if you'll scratch my back a liiLle for me, I have prickle Ileal." A IMa Jam ot Log. The big jam of 10,000,000 log, on Curratunk Falls, Maine, is broken at last, 0,000,000 logs going out at once,' which was said to have been a grand sight It took sixty-live -men thirteen days to break the jam and get the rear over Carratunk Falls. A por tion of the ledge was removed by blast lug. Omar (JlarkJiail a crew of fifty men in charge from the time die first log started on Moose rivef, then on the main river, until this time, And not an accident of Any kind has happened to a man, not even the jamming of a toe. This makes 85,000,000 logs that have passed down the river this season. tlrlnUliiK Toiili. Edge tools are tilted up by grinding. The sharp grit of the grindstone, be ing harder than the Iron or steel, cuts very small channels iu the surface of the metal, and the revolviug disk car ries away ail the minute particles that uro detached by the grit, if we were pkexamine the.surface of the tool that has just been removed from the grind stone. under the leus of a powerful mi croscope, it would appear, as It were, like the rough surface of a field which has recently been sacrificed with some Implement that had formed alternate ridges and furrows. Hence, as these ridges and furrows run together from both sides ut the cutting-edge, the newly-grouud edge scums to be formed of a system ot minute teeth, rutlier than to consist of a smooth edge. For this reason a tool is first ground on a coarse stone, so as to wear the surface ot the steel a Way rapidly; then it is polished on a wheel of much finer grit and final ly, iu order to reduce the serrature as in itch as possible, a whetstone of the finest grit must be employed. This gives a cutting-edge having the small est possible serration. A razor, tor xiinple, does not have a per fee v uttiug edge, as one may perceive by viewing it through a microscope. Be giitners are sometimes instructed, wheu grinding edge tools, to have the stone revolve toward the cutting edge, aud sometimes from it. When the first grinding is being done it is a matter of indifference whether this is done or not; but when the finishing touches are applied near and at the very edge, a grinder can always complete his task with more accuracy 11" the periphery of the grindstone revolves towurd the cut ting edge, as the steel that is worn away will tie removed more easily; whereas w hen a stone runs in the op posite direction, the grinder cannot al-* ways tell exactly when the side of the tool is fully ground up to the edge. This is more especially true when the steel has a rather low or soft temper. The stone, whey running from the edge will not sweep away every particle of the metal that hangs us a "feather" but when the stone revolves toward the edge, tnere w ill be no "feather edge" to deceive the eye of the grinder. Street Life lu Venice. Venice's great impression Is Its street life —so brilliant, so highly colored, so unlike that ol any other city. The coin moil-place shows of the guide-books are Ilut and disappointing; the prisons, dungeons, Bridge of Sighs and so forth. The school girl glamour thrown over these places is mainly traceable to Bv ron's sentimental wash of verse. The unbalanced poet's judgment on the his toric events of Venice is about as weak and vicious as his dgtnant on otiier matters and his ignorance of fact is aj>- palling. The daily picture of Venice, however, is something .of which one never tires and which changes ever with the hour. Gondola life is some thing deliciously dreamy ami luxurious in the soft light of day or under the sheen of moon and starlight. Let dark night come and rain, however, and these long, narrow, deep black boats, seen mysteriously from tiie faint point of light ou their prow take to them selves the likeness of floating coflins steered by the shades. The effect is indescribably sepulchral. You seem to be alone in the waters of lfades among the spirits. The gondolas are all of a funeral black, with black draperies over the dark cabin. Many centuries ago a Venetian law ordered this pattern and color, for what reason I do not know. The laws of Venice do not change, and the gondolas arc all black and ghostly to this day. The streets are narrow and blaze with light. Their narrowness—sometimes not over three teet—makes a very little light serve to brilliantly illuminate them, and the j°ts in the shop-windows, kept open till late at night keep them bright and blazing almost without the out-door lamps. Through them the people surge in constant streams—all nations, all classes, all colors. You study the world, but even the Venetians chein sclves present some strong contrasts* for they in time are made up of the blood of many people. Oue striking contrast, which you soon note, is that the Venetian men as a body are dark, their women blonde. The sounds, too, are polyglotta, and everything is inter national. It was my first sight, for instance, of Greek money which 1 received several times in change. Tit 11 Flkh Stories. "I was at the wheel," said Mr. Young, of the bark Kentish Tar, "some of the. inen being ill. It wa§ a bright, clear day, aud while L was enjoying the tresh breeze which was blowing at the tirnel heard some of the forecabm passengers say, 'There is u Ash alongside!'" Look ing out on the starboard side I saw it lying on the water lazily sunning it self. Its eyes were open and its fins were going just enough to keep him it the top of the water. It was about six feet by fourteen, and was the Anest specimen of that gpeeies of Ash any of us had ever seen." "Six feet by fourteen," said the re lorter meditatively, trying to bring all his arithmetical knowledge to bear harmoniziug this statement with that cpntalued on the log. ' •'! could not see it all at once," said Mr. Thatcher, divining the reporter's thoughts, "but as near as I could make out that was about the size of it. 1 don't think Air. Young's estimate at all exaggerated." • "I am a hand with the bar- poon," Mr. Young remarked, "and I generally try to keep one on hand. On this occasion, unfortunately, my bar poou was on the main deck, or 1 could have had tiie fish on board." "Anything we eould get with the liurpoou," Interposed Mr. Devlin, his talk beginning to,flow as freely as the exciting cause "we gathered in the In terest of suJenea or anybody else." "Any sea serpents?" queried the re -1 orter gently. ."Hou serpents! I should say so," Devlin answered confidently, "I've beou ull over the world since I first wept U> sea. I've been in Greenland, but not at all seasons ol the year at the same time. I've been round the Cape ol Good a god many limes. The Niagara saw the biggest sun fish off the Cape that ever J saw or read about." "When w as that?'* "Iu iß7if—in 1811 tk—before the war— when she was taking the Japanese to their own country.'' "But the sea serpent?" "Tell lain about the sea serpent, Young," Devlip replied. "We did see something very like a sea serpent, Mr. Young said. "That was on the 20lh, the duy before we eu co utile red the sunflsh. it appearcdon the iiiizzen croastrecs, and it w as prob ably thirty fuet iu length. Other gen tlemen besides Mr. Devliu saw it.'' "It was in sections," Mr. Devlin re marked, impatient over the . common place description of his friend, "like a tapeworm. 1 couldn't see it all at ouoe,' but each section was—well, let nie- see ten or fifteen feet long." "What was Its color?" "lirow n or black."- "Are you sure It wasn't the remains of a garbage scow ?" snug one of the sailors engaged iu cleauing the brass woik, a la "Pinafore!" "Bring out the bottle of seaweed, Young/' cried Devlin, and then turn ing to the reporter, he said, impressive ly :—"Remember, I'm a scientific cuss." The bottle of seaweed was produced. It was really a very beautilul thing of its kind, so beautiful iu lhat it would attract general attention aud ad miration in a cabinet of curiosities. There were ferns and sea berries and minute specimens of shrimps and crabs the size of a pea and a ti>h in size and shape very like a whiplash. In color it was brown, purple, variegated. It looked uiore like a snake than a fish. "What kind of fish is this?" the re porter asked. • "It is like a sucker about the head but its body resembles a gar-fish," Mr. Devlin said. "And its color is zebra-like," Mr. Young added The reporter rose to take his leave. "Before you go," Mr. Devliu said, "let uie tell you about the meteor we saw on this voyage. I have seen me teors in the Grecian Archipelago—ev erywhere—raining down all round the sky, but I never saw one shoot up be lore." "That is so," said Mr Young. It started, uear the horizon." "On a line with ttie mainmast," in terrupted Devlin. "it started uear the horizon and seemed to follow the path of the milky wav, upward, upward, describing a semicircle in the heavens. I never saw anything more beautiful, and 1 wish that 1 could write, so that 1 might write about it." "it is something for the astronomers to settle," Devlin answered. "Goodby," said the reporter. "Goodby, and be sure you give us a good report," cried a number of voices alter him. He Woiildu't stop He slid into the office as if he was greased. We knew the very minute, that he came through the hole that the carpenter had left that there w;is going to be trouble, and we were not mistaken. He said that he was related to Adam uud Eve, aud he looked so, aud also as if he hadn't washed himself since his ancestor died. After he had sat down 011 a chair and placed his feet on the desk, he informed us that he had been all his life collecting conundrums. He had about, three hundred in his pocket aud would like to reau them to us. Then he pulled about a pint and a quart of paper out of his pocket. "Why is a baby like an oyster?" he began. We didn't know. "Neither do I," said lie. and then he laughed so loud that the clock stop ped. "Why is a dead baby like half-past six?" was the next one he tired at us. We told him we didn't know, and guessed be didn't, too, but he said that iiad fooled us again, for he did. "Because its almost hea veil," said he and the suort that he gaye knocked the ink staud oil' the table aud started the clock going again. "Why is a lamp-wick like a three dollar and a half bull-terrlor pup?" was the next one that reached us. We didn't know. Neither do I," said he, and he broke the press with the yell that he gave," "By i ketch you every trip." "Why am I like China?" "Because you're near Hades!" we shrieked. "Fooled you again—you're—" "No, you didn't," said we; "we guessed that one right." He insisted that we were wrong, but unless that man's sins were forgiven before he entered our office, we were right. An Amtnou Jockey. t • There is no dispute as to who is Che best English jockey, ills.name is Fred Archer, and his record Is as follow*: la 1878 he won 229 races, out of 819 in which he rode. T his was the. largest number sSVmccs oarer won by a jockey inasingfe season, being in excess of the totaT attained BjTXTSTRr TITTS77 when he won 318 races,|q* iti >IB7O, when ho WMS successful 201 times. This year, bp to August Ist, he had won 107 races, in a toatl of 014 mounts —or an average of say one-third. The extraordinary victory of the horse ••Falsetto" has revealed the champion jockey of America, who happens to be a colored boy with the decidedly Celtic name of Murphy. The New York Timet contends that is quite the equal of Archer, and to prove this as sertion give the subjoined sketch : Mur phy's riding lu the Truvers Stakes race, Juiy 18, and iu the Kcnucr Stakes race, August 22, were the two finest exhibi tions of skill in the saddle thai have been seen in this country in many years. Murphy has a steady hand, a quick eye, a cool head aud a bold heart —four qualifications absolutely neces sary to the success ut every jockey. That lie is very observant during the progress of a race, and U quick to per ceive the weak ppints of an adversary, prompt to take advantage of them, was signally illustrated iu the run for the Travers Stakes. Asked, sown after the race, why he went up to Harold aud Jericho at the half inilo, auly to fall away again, he replied : "Mrell, I did not care for Jericho, but, while I thought Spendthrift was the dangerous norsc, I wauled to go up to Harold to see how he telt: so I tapped Falsetto with the spur oue t uie, went up to theui, felt of llaroid, found bim sprawl ing over the course, and saw he was out of the race, I fell back to keep Feakes from thinking 1 was at all dau gerous?" IT- was then asked how he happened to get between Harold and the pole on the turn. i'l didn't intend to go on the turn," was his reply; "but when we started toward 'tilO stretch, Harold was tired aud unsteady, aud he leaned away from the pole, aud gave ine room to go iu. 1 thought,U better to run for the position than to have to round him, so I jumped at the chance, and went between him and the rail. 1 steadied my horse here a moment to compel Llaroid to cover ,me ground on the turu, atid beat good, for he was very tired, and just before we got to the stretch 1 left him and went after Spendthrift.'* No explanation could be better than that. Murphy has al ready had thirty-seveu mounts this year and has won twenty-five,'besides ; riding a dead beat, and this is a much better average than any English jockey can show. A Half Breed's Revenge. Thanks mainly to a Metis or half breed who is iu the service of the Hud sou Bay company, & Sioux warrior was found guilty of stealing a horse, and condemned to pay the auimal's value by instalments at one of the company's forts. On paying the last installment, he received his quittance from the man who bad broug.it him to Justice, and left the office. A few moineuts later the Sioux returned, advanced on his noiseless moccasins within a space of the writing table, and leveled ids mus ket full at the half breed's head. Just as the trigger was pulled, the Metis raised the hand with which he was writing aud touched lightly the muzzle of the gun; the shot passed over his head, but bis hair was singed off in a broad mass. The smoke clearing away the Indian was amazed to see hisenemy ' still alive. The other looked him full in the eyes for an instant, then quietly resumed his writing. The Indian silently departed being unpursued; those who would have giveu chase be ing stopped by the half breed with, — "Go back to your diuiier, and leave the affair to uie." 4 When evening came, a few whites curious to see how the utfair would end accompanied the Metis to the Sioux en campment. At a certain distance he bade them wait, and advanced alone to the Indian tents. Before one of these sat the battled-savage, singing his own death-hymn to the lorn torn. He told his friends in the spirit-land to expect liiiu that night, when lie would bring theui all the news of their tribe. *He swung his body backward aud forward a? he chanted his strange song, but never once looked up—not even when his foe spurned him with his foot. He only sang on and awaited his fkte. Then the half breed bent his head and spat down on the crouching Sioux,and turned leisurely away—a. crueler re venge than if he had shot him dead. Their Bargain, "Your folks gone anywhere this summer?" inquired one bootblack of another at the post office. "Has your'n ?" was the evasive re ply. "Say, Jim, what kind of a boy are you?" asked the first, after a long pause. " "Me?" Well, I never give a fellow away." "Then, if you won't let on that my mother had to stay at home to wash for her regular customers, 1 wou't say anything about your lather, who Is taking his vacation in the Work House." They shook hands over it and both will keep mum. NO. 39.