vol. 1.111.. TBI WHIP-POOR-WILL Wbws apfJe-hrancb**. flashed with bloom. JiiiieV warm evening* with perfume. And balmier grow* each perfect day. And field* are sweet with new mown-hay. ' men. aansmC tma 1 hear thy note. Tip from the past nre-t tucket* float - Whq-poor-will! Tbnr arc th hours to love endeared. And ramwwec by* thy acoeuts weird What w.ld regret* —what lender pain, Heealls any youthful dream* avai 1. A* Iwtmc down the s' adowy year*. That old refrwiii fond memory h* are— Whip-poor-will! The cornd day mepire* thee not; flat Ind it mm* dt**p-*haded rrot. Them htee a oad recluse doe: wart Tie whw bouiw mwlate. VbM ever* lonwber oonnd is lon. And grove* and glen* are thine alone. Whip-poor-wid! Than, wdien the rt A vofaptaon* night PwsAs m Atw yormg moon's ten ier lighA And and <4 ft*, and ahimmenng Awe splendid in her argont beam- How thrills the loverV heart to bear Thy load wtoecato. liquid clear. Whip-poor-w li! Wtmmm ecwa thy itrfwed phrase. That to the wondering ear convey* Half-h -. taan sound*, yet chsth the sense Witts Twgeeeoee of mtelkgeooe. Avd Ids a wondering voice of air. Haunt* the d,m fiesta, we know not where. Whip-poor-will! m First and Only Love. It uus hern a matter off wonder to tiw why 1 b red Elwyn Asm on as 1 did. lit ww Twrt ?ve years my srnnw, and 1 they all say xmeror later." 1 * Tbev ?** Ik asked ; "wli< an* they I" "Men. *" He laughed and drew my arm through his, and we finished ui? walk in silence. Then, when we had reached the front door, ; and I held up my lips for the usual kiss, he mid "She is very charming, hut my liahy is worth ten of her.*' *Hlh !** I throw ing my self into hi* arms, and clinging to him with passion ate pain and sorrow, "do not say so, I am a woman now—a woman, Elwyn; do not call me that any more." "Well, I will not if it hurts you." And he took my face lan ween his liands, and bent over me with his own bright smile. But breaking from him, I ran upstairs, and shut mvself in nay room. What could Ido ? Nothing. I felt that Ik* was daiiv, hourly, being drawn away from me. and my weak power could avail nothing against the more subtle will of that older far superior woman of the world. My mother, ah. hut not even to her could I comptmin off Elwyn. And > the days went on. Owe afternoon, in the early autumn, I won down to the shore alone, sitting list teas and idle, though wearily. At last, voices that I knew only too well—his and hers—and I staid to listen. They grew quicser as they approached and finally seat ea themar-hres on the other side of the boat house from where 1 sat and kept silence. A fear moments and her voice broke the '"iknew by the sudden start and quick breathing that lie had turned towards her, but lie said nothing. 1 stifled my now loud gasps and leaned forwart! to bear more. "Elwyn ?" Ami now the one was changed. It was as if the words were forced, wrung from her. "Have pity—l love you. * "Gracious heaven!" 1 know he had started to his feet. "You tell me this? You!" "I do!" she answered, tremulously; "and more—//on tore tnr 1 heard hint groan, and knew by instinct that his hands were stretched towards her as though to defend her from her own words. "You love me,** she continued, more calmly, "and 1 love you. 1 have waited for yon to speak, hut you would not ; so 1 have done it. You may imagine, if you will, what it oists a woman to make such a confession unsolicited. l>o you blame inc. Klwyn "Blame ?*' he said, "my lieaulifttl! my dearest! And yet—-Oh, the traitor the miserable traitor you have made of me, Eleanor!" "It is because I love you. Forgive me, if too well, Elwyn.'* loves me," lie said. "That child f" she answered, with a touch of sarcasm. "Her heart is*tooyoung ha- any deep impression. Oh, Elwyn, what is her love to mine ! # She is a pretty toy, a plaything. Will you weigh her in the balance against me ?" "Eleanor," he pleaded, 'have mercy ! Take my life as you have my love hut leave me at least, a little self-resjieot. We are strong in our love, and can liear more than she can. l>o not U cruel in your power." "\\ hat ili* you want to do ?" she asked. "To te true to tier." he said bitterly, yet, oh, how grimly! "1 wish her never to know that it is to a traitor her pure faith has been given. For I will mam her and anil cherish her as though you and I had never met. So help me heaven !" "And what is to liecome of me V "Have mercy ! Why did you ever mine I** ween us I" "You say you love me. I ask, what is to liemine of me < You say you love me, Elwyn F* "Ah, Utter than my own truth and honor!" 1 Hi. how changed and broken his voice smmded ! 1 waited to hear no more. My resolve was taken. His pride was humbled to the dust—trampled beneath the feet of his great passion. He should never knowingly make me witness his humiliation. This much 1 could and would do for him. That evening 1 asked him to walk down the avenue with me, for the lust time, and then 1 said, Elwyn, this must end between us. I will not tnarrv vou." It was a strange start he gave—a strange look, almost of joy, that flashed over his face, only to lie gone again. And then I gained strength to tell the falsehood, that was to set him free. "I do not love you, Elwyn." Ii is needless to rei>eat his hurried words of question and confused remonstrance. But I saw that he believed my love wjis gone from him. and therein I could lie thankful. A short month, aid thev were married. 1 never saw them again. But long after they told me he was dead, and that she was alniut to wed another huslwmd, and they gave me the little packet of hair that he had addressed with his own hand to his "First and latest love." His first and latest, forever. Skull* of .Uurl*rers One of the most curious collections in the great Anthropological museum in the Paris exhibition of last year was a collec tion of thirty-six skulls of murderers who have lieen guillotined in France. This collection has been carefully studied by I)r. Bonder, who has published the result of his studies in the last number of JBrocas Jit vu* d\\nthropololutre skulls is 1,515, and that of the type from the cave of M'Hom me Mort is 1,606.5 cubic centimetres. The development of the murderers' skull is not in the frontal but in the parietooccipital region, aad it appears to indicate a low in tellectual standard, with a strong tendency jto powerful action. Most of the celebrated characteristics presented by the skulls of : these criminals are comparable with those jof prehistoric races. A murderer may be regarded as an anachronism, and his char acter may he explained on the principle of atavism, or reversion to an early type. If a prehistoric savage could be introduced into modern society he would probably be ' come a notorious criminal; on the other 1 hand, if one of the brutal murderers of 1 modern times had lived in prehistoric ages he might have been a chief of his tribe, j highly respected. Many years ago, at Came farm house, where relatives of mine were then living, the household cat was observed to enter a liedroom in course ot being spring-cleaned. The looking glass being on the floor, the cat, on entering, was confronted with its own reflection, and naturally concluded that he Saw before him a real intruder on his domain. Hostile demonstrations were the result, followed by a rush to the mirror and then, meeting an obstacle to his ven geance, a fruitless cut round to the rear. This manoeuvre was more than once re peated with, of course, e jual lack of suc cess. Fiualiy, the cat was seen to deliber ately walk up to the looking glass, keeping its eyes on the image, and then, when near enough to the edge, to feci carefully with one paw behind, for the supposed intruder, while with its head twisted round to the front it assured itself of the persistence of the reflection. The result of this experi ment fully satisfied the cat that he iiad been the victim of a delusoin, and never after would he condescend to notice mere reflections, though the trap was more than once laid for him. IT must be very warm weather that will take the corn starch o ,t cf cheap ice cream. Cat and Looking-GlanM. Ml LLIIKIM. PA., THURSDAY, OCTOBER 9, 1879. Swell Tlikv In Siititmer "Tell me something about the habits o swell thieves in summer time t" said a re porter to a detective. "They devote the summer to recreative and •prosiH.'ctive' work—that is, studying the bearings and acquainting themselves with the resources of the places which they propose to attack when a favorable oppor tunity presents itself. They seldom stop long in one place. They can be met one day at Saratoga and the next at Newport, Long Branch, "ape May, or doing the Canadian tour, all the time having their eye to business and spending their leisure moments in ttie gambling dens. "The swell pickpockets migrate with consistent regularity at the approach of summer to the watering-places, put up at the most fashionable hotels and carry on business as opportunity alTords. The swell pickjioeket seldom gets eaugnt. lie generally travels with a companion to whom he passes whatever he snatches, ami should the linger of suspicion be pointed at him he assumes an air of virtuous innocence and wounded dignity which is amusing to be hold, and oilers, it may be in the most plausible manner possible, to 'show up' if necessary. Kven if he is searched nothing is found 011 him, and unless he is really caught iu the act he cannot he htdd. The light-fingered gentry are always in swarms at horse races, fairs, conventions and camp meetings, and indeed wherever there is a big crowd. They ply their trade with a persistency and and an energy worthy of a better cause." "What do they do with their spoils?" "All property besides cash which they manage to lay their hands on they send to the city, where agents receive it and eon vert it into cash the best way they can. The hotel and boarding-house thieves who make their headquarters in the city arc the dread of every watering-place in the sum mer. They live in grand style, drink the most expensive wines, smoke the most ex pensive cigars and drive in the gayest available coaches. Groups of them may Iw* seen nightly in the corridors of the Saratoga hotels. They are easily recognized, but not so easily gotten rid of. Their restless manner gives them away, but the hotel de tectives as long as they have nothing against the.ll and they have no certainty beyond appearances they are crooked, and cannot very safely interfere with them. They are watched. The detective forces at the ho tels in watering-places have to he reinforced in summer to watch these guests, and a pretty hard time they have of it. in a day the thieves And out all about the guests, how much money or jewelry they are likely to have in their rooms, and when they go to*their meals they invade their apartments and carry away whatever of value they can lay their hands on. The banco, faro or three-card-monte men spend iheir summer traveling 011 the cars trying to 'rope in' countrymen. They reap a rich harvest, for the countryman is the eas iest being in the world to impose upon. The sneak-thieves remain in the city during the summer and so do the low class of burg lars, looking lor a favorable opi>ortuiiity to get into a vacant house. "Your swell thief is generally an edu cated, well-dressed, respectable-looking, high-toned 'gentleman.' He lives well, speuds money lavishly when lie has it and industriously cultivates the friendship of the wealthy and refiued. His demeanor is so pleasing, his outward code of morals so apparently strict, and the dealing with his fellow-men when it suits him so seemingly straight-forward that to the uninitiated he appears t .• be the very paragon of honesty and the embodiment of all that is noble and virtuous in manhood. That class of thieves are the most dangerous in the com munity. They are hardest to detect in the act of committing a crime and their tracks are so skilfully covered that after perpetra tion of crime it is ditlicult either to catch them or to trace any of the stolen property. The swell thieves live in style during the winter, doing an occasional job as their ne cessities require. In tlie summer they go to the watering places—every when* in fact where there is a probability of there being a crowd. They may be classified as follows; Burglars,pickpockets, confidence-operators, banco-steerers, faro and three-card-monte men, hotel and boarding-house thieves and sneak-thieves. "Nearly all the first-class burglars belong to the 'swell' elass. Education is neces sary to make a really good, reliable, level headed and effective burglar. Take the most famous burglars now in prison and at large in this country—the Hopes, Brady, Dobbs, Leary, Irving and Porter, for in stance. They are all men of brains, who would have probably succeeded at any trade or profession they might have chosen. They are regarded as first-class men by the thieving fraternity ; they are cool, daring and merciless when any one crosses their path while they are cracking a hank safe or plundering a house. In the summer time the swell burglars cease from active labor. The darkness of night is an essential ele ment of success 111 their professsion. It is during the long, dark winter nights that they prowl about with all their vigor and misguided enthusiasm, and under cover of night commit, their depredations. A MtiilMter Kouglilv Handled. A local preacher had been preaching in the afternoon in a village not far from Newcastle, England, and having accom panied one of the chapel members to his house, was ot course introduced to his wife, who appeared very glad to see him, and warmly pressed him for a full quarter of an hour to stay to tea. He at last con sented. While all this pressing was going on, the husband was quietly standing by, preparing to wash his hands and face. The good lady then went to get the tea ready, and it was not long before both the tea and her temper were brewing ; for hearing, as she thought, her dearly beloved washing, she made for the little window which com municated between the kitchen and pantry where she was, and taking advantage of his position, more quickly than one could say "Jack Kobinson," she administered two or three hard raps on Ins bald pate, accompan ied with the exclamation "I'll learn ye to bring them hungry preachers here to tea every time they come to preach !" As soon as the unfortunate individual could get the soap-suds out of his eyes he began to think what it all meant, but could come to no other conclusion than that the old lady had made a sad mistake which she also found out, for upon returning to the parlor, she saw her husband patiently awaiting his turn to wash. A hopeless person is one who deserts himself* I*ti'tiir>a of the l'raahl*ut Hcaly's portraits of tl Presidents of the j Fnitcd Staffs, recently added to tlie ('or- ; coran Art Gallery, are mainly tlu: studies from which, al>out thirty years ago, he ex- ! eciited a commission from Louis Philippe, j then King of the French. Those of the earlier Presidents are copies from Stuart and 1 larding, the others tire from life, i They were purchased of the artist by Thomas 11. Bryan, F.sq , together with the j portraits of Taylor, Fillmore, Pierce, Bu chanan and Lincoln, painted since the i French royal order, and sold by him to the gallery. They arc of various degrees of ' merit ; one or two are quite bad, a greater number indilferently good, ami a few real ly excellent. from some unexplained cause the portrait <>t General Harrison is not embraced in the collection. The three tors are anxious to supply the ommission, and two have already been forwarded them for inspection, with a view to their sale, but neither proved satisfactory. The bet ter of these came from Louisville, ard is the property of Mr. Oliver W. Lucas, Clerk of the Board of Aldermen of that city. It is by Mr. John it. Johnston, formerly of Cin cinnati, hut now of Baltimore, and was painted in 18H>, about the time of the j General's election to the Presidency. It is a tolerably correct likeness, but the colors are much faded, and it was considerably, though not irreparably, injured in its trans port at ion hither. For these reasons and in the hope of securing a less objectionable picture, its purchase wus declined. Mr. .J. 11. Beard painted several portraits of the General, which must still be in existence in a good state of preservation. The portrait of Mr. Lincoln was painted in 18tK, during the pemleney of the Presidential election or immediately thereafter, under an order from Mr. Bryan, then a citizen of Chicago. The face is unshaven, which gives it a rather youthful look, without in the least improving his native homeliness. Mr. ! Lincoln was in the habit of explaining that be "turned his beard loose'' at the sugges tion of a lady, whose knowledge of his JKT sonul appearance was confined to newspaper cuts, which fairly made him an ogre. She wrote to him that in her woman's judgment, whiskers would add much to his beauty, ! and if he could IK- persuaded to cultivate them she would kiss him the tirst time they ever met. The gallant rail-splitter at once restricted his tonsorial operations to the up per and nether lips, leaving them free for the oscillatory reward, and in a few weeks garnished his cheeks, chin and throut with a hirsute adornment which puzzled Mrs. Lincoln and surprised his acquaintances without, as already intimated, enhancing his personal pulchritude. As the necessary conclusion to this "ower true tale,*' it chanced that he ami the unknown lady met, and the promised reward was claimed and received. lie was never clcan-shaved afterward. The next ugliest of the Presi dents (counting Jefferson as "good-third") is Zaclmry Taylor. His portrait somewhat refines the plain features of the rough and weather-beaten old soldier, but it very correctly represents him "as lie lived." His eye. which was black, keen and pier- ; cing, greatly relieved his commonplace countenance, and it fairly glows trom llealy's canvas. Probably the most strik ing picture in the lot is that of General Jackson, who, too, in spite of his long life, never grew to l>e a "marvelous proper man," although Ins appearance was very distin guished. lie sat for Mr. Healy in the spring of 18 Ll, and the picture was finished only nine days before his death. The pic ture is in marked contrast with the full length portrait of the General painted by Vanderlyn in 1819, which hangs in the main gallery. The latter represents him in uniform, but bare-headed, standing beside a cannon, sword iu hand, with the smoke of battle filling the background, and its blaze tlaming from his eyes and illuminat ing his face with martial glory. Healy's is stripped of all this glamour, and affords painful evidence of age and infirmity, of disease and suffering; but the wonderful head still bears its leonine aspect, while the steel-blue eyes, undimmed by time or ap plication, retain their former marvelous power, and seem to look directly through the holder. A duplicate of this picture may be seen at the Hermitage, the pose is slightly altered, and the effect rendered more agreeable and impressive. Yet it is sad to look upon, and one at bust turns from it with a sigh of relief. The Harvest in Russia. A field stretching away for miles and miles without a hedge, ditch or boundary stone to relieve the sight offered by what seems to be a very ocean of waving corn tinged with red by millions of poppies. A Jew is surveying this glorious crop, and as he does so he turns to sniff the breeze which is blowing gently from the Black i Sea, about thirty versts off; then he lets his eye wander complacently down a steep j road up which a long procession of empty ! carts is toiling. The Jew is a merchant from Odessa, who bought the crops before him as far hack JUS three years ago from a nobleman in difficulties, and he is pleased I by the sight of those carts, because he j knows now that he will be able to get his wheat comfortably to Odessa before the j September rains set in. The difficulty in j Southern Russia is not to rear wheat, but < to get it shipped; so when tfte aged Ben judas was haggling with Prince Nokine, J the straitened nobleman above-mentioned, about the purchase of his harvests for three I j years, he took care to mention that it would j require more than a hundred carts to carry j the wheat to Odessa, and that after that ! | there might be some trouble about getting a barn in which to store the wheat until it could be shipped. In fact, he described the purchase of the corn as quite a gam bling speculation; and so it often is. But ! not to dealers like Benjudas. He never 1 buys an acre of corn without being quite 1 sure about bis carts, his barn, his ship, and j his reapers; for, behold! even as he stands surveying that noble field at five in the morning, on a promising August day, a ; hundred or so of Prince Nokine's tenants come slouching out of their cottages with scythes and sickles, while a more distant group, coming from the Barine's castle, ap pear pushing before them a giand steam I mowing machine. Prince Nokine, like all Russian landholders, invests largely in i agricultural machinery, as a child wou'd in toys if he had the money; and it was part ' of Bcnjudas's contract that he should have 1 the Prince's machine at his disposal. Not 1 one of the Russian peasants can work them, but Benjudas has brought with him a couple of sharp German slap-stokers, who know how to do everything more or less, and who soon light the lire under the engine and set the mower snorting, moving, and cutting. Presently this big machine is strewing the corn around it as easily and gracefully as a ship's keel slices the sea and lays it out 111 foam; and the Muscovite peasants, marvelling at the spectacle, rest idly on their scythes and utter exclamations of delight. But Bcnjudas lifts Isith his hands indignantly and calls 011 them to do their duty : " Vou lazy swine, do you think it's for this I give you each your ten ko pecks a day? There'll he no swans for you ly and by if you don't bestir yourselves." Now kwass is a very small beer which the Russian peasants love. Prince Nokine's tenant's set to with a will, and soon there are 110 sounds heard hut their toilsome gasps mingling with the swishing noise of their blades us they sweep through the corn in vigorous semicircles. Kven women and children are at work with sickles; and as fast an sheaves can lie made up little hands of tottering hoys and girls carry them to the carts, where some sturdy louts pack them down tight till each cart holds u pyr amid, which is covered with a tarpaulin. Then the carts set olf, and old Benjudtis, who has been surveying all the operations, returns to the Held inwardly ckuckling but outwardly morose. He never shows his lalsirers that he is pleased with them, else they might be asking for more kwass. Of this liquor each reaper gets ;is much as can make him glad, but no more ; and Bcnju das as lie prowls uliout, notes every skulk er who, after doing less than his share of work, would like to secure more than his allowance of beverage: "Now, then, you hog, he olf; a few more of your sort would ruin me. I shan't employ you to-morrow." These are the be 111 sons which Bcnjudas scatters about him as he stands in the shadow of a roadside fir tree, carefully protecting his venerable head from the sun's rays Advice tu a (tank. A seedy individual, rural in his general appearance and make-up, strolled into the Third National bank, Cincinnati during business hours,and observing Fail. Lawson, receiving teller, counting a package of money, nodded pleasantly, and said, "Still a hand in' of it out ?*' "Yes," replied Lawson, "still crowding it on the people." "Ain't you a leetle too handy here?" continued the stranger. "How so?" said Fub. "Why, strangers passin' 'long on the sidewalk and seem' your sign so conspicu ous like, must berunnin' in every few min utes to borrow money." "Sothey do," returned lawson. "Ain't it a good deal of bother waitiu' on 'em? Must take up a gd deal of your time." "Yes, it is some Isitlier, that's a fact, but we like to accommodate everybody, you know. Can't turn away a stranger just because we ain't uequainicd with him." "Lose some, I suppose ?" interrogated the stranger. "Oh, yes." "Folks drop in and get what money they want ami then forget all about it. Or per haps they send it in a letter and misdirect it. Awful eareless, some people are alxmt borrowing money," said the man. "Awful careless." "Owin' a good deal to keepin' your bank close on the sidewalk. Folks goin' by look up and see you countin' money, and then they suddenly recollect they hain't got quite enough to see 'em through, and so quite naturally, they steps In and borrows some of you. You can't very well refuse — hate to hurt their feelin's, and so they git away with you. Some mean folks in this world. Now, I wouldn't do it." "No, you wouldn't do it." "No, sir-ee. I never borrowed a cent of 110 hank that I didn't pay." "I'll bet you didn't," said I>awson, with emphasis. "Now if I was runnin' a hank like y f ou are continued the stranger. I'd keep it hack in an alley where there wasn't so many strangers passin*. 'Twouldn't make no dif ference with me, 'cause I know liow banks are pestered. I never bothers 'em. 'Tain't n.y style. I could walk right past a mile ou 'em and never even look in the winder. But everybody' ain't that way. What, ten cents ?" "Yes," said Fab, "that's all I can let you have to-day. You see there have been so many strangers in ahead of you this morning that our funds are running low. Ta-ta. Don't trouble yourself to send it back in a letter. When the hank wants it the hank will notify you." The stranger thanked hiin, and again urging upon him the expediency of moving the hank on to some back street or alley, so as not to attract the attention of passing strangers so readily, the seedy man took his departure. How Eels are Caught. Many persons who cross the upper ferry, { on the Hudson, may have noticed rows of small wooden boxes, about the size of an j soap box, placed a few yards apart. These boxes have covers on top, and wire screens on the bottom to admit fresh water. These contain small eels which, at this season ot the year, are 1 caught by thousands near the State dam in j the following manner: The • agent of the fish commissioner proceeds to some small outlet or-mill-tail at ebb tide or Slack water and with a small screen, similar to those used for sifting flour, which he dips into the eddies, sometimes gathering as many as a thousand at a dip. It is nothing unusual to gather a half million at one fishing. When caught they are placed in these boxes in running water, until enough are accum ulated to make a shipment. They are then placed in ordinary milk cans, which con tain about two inches of sott sewer mud with a packing swail of marsh grass, newly cut, upon wlncli the eels are placed to work their way gradually to the bottom. Then another layer of grass is placed on this. The whole is covered with a small piece of ice to regulate the temperature, and then they are ready for transportation. At the present time they are being shipped to Michigan under the supervision of Orin M. Chase, who for the past six years has been connected with the State Fish Commission er, Seth Green, and has had entire control of the catching and shipping of these im mense numbers of small eels. et there seems to be no decrease as each season brings its millions to our water. Eels are said to deposit their spawn in the same manner as other fish and, according to the best authorities, who have of late years carefully investigated the matter, their spawn is deposited in the mud in the winter and incubated by the warm temper ature of the water in JUD#. Tho Jovial Judge, The proelivLy to joking: In courts of law Is a homage paid to u deep human instinct. People like justice best when it unbends a little, and injustice itself may bo softened by ingenious judges who conciliate the loser witli irresisti ble jest. Even among a grave people like the Turks, litis love ot humor often overpowers complaint. There is a story in lWe East of a Pasha w ho had receiv ed a present ol two fat geese. These succulent birds were very scarce at the time, and the great man called a feast of his intimates, where roast goose, stalled with pistachios, was to form the central dish, llut a rival magnate, who greatly wanted goose lor dinner, had offered the cook 500 piastres lor a bird, whereupon the too venal oltlcer repaired to the Cadi, and said : *'lf 1 give your worship a goose, will you see me safe supposing auyLo ly complains about the other one?" The magistrate winked and took his bird—the other also disap peared—and at the banquet, when the eagerly expected dish should have been produced, there was an awful disap pointment. The cook being summoned protested with many protestations that the geese had ''flown away." "Recov er them," the infuriated Pasha cried, "or 1 will have thee before our Cadi for the bast'nado.,' The guilty cook rushed madly along the high road, wondering what to do, when lie was asked by a donkey driver, "In the name of Allah," to help him to lift his beast, which had fallen, lie forth with pulled at the donkey's tail with such thought less fury that it came off in his baud, and the cook then rushed on more fran tically than ever, pursued by the cries and curses of the driver. A little fur ther he ran in his blundering haste against a Christian, and knocked the man's pipe-stick into his eye, destroy ing it. Yet a little further, still wildly hurrying, he came round the corner full-tilt upon a very ugly Bulgarian matron, who, being in an interesting condition, was so upset that she then and there suffered damage. Being chased by the husband and some Zap tiehs, the miserable man ran up the steps of a minaret, and when the muez zin would have seized him leaped down to the earth in his desperation, from the llrst platform, killing a Greek who chanced to be sitting with his brother below. Such a situation as that pre sented in the above narrative, it must be confessed, was embarrassing, even to the humor and resources of a Tur kish Judge. To the original sin of the goose were now added four separate misdemeanors, and the spectacle pre st'uted shortly afterward before the Cadi was one of terrific hubbub; though the prisoner exhibited a strange confi dence. which proved not unfounded. First came the Pasiia, who told how the sinful cook had pretended that geese, plucked and drawn, could fly away. "Dost thou, then, doubt, broth er," said the Judge, "the power of Al lah to call the dead to life? Let us not limit the divine might by our foolish misbelief—it may have been so! Go in peace." Next, the donkey-man held up the reft tail of his beast, and cried for justice; but the Cadi said, "Give him the donkey, my son, to feed and use until the tail has grown again; then he shall restore it to thee." The Christian followed, pointed to the mis sing orb, and clamored for punishment. "It is written," said the Judge, "that one eye to a beliver equals two of an infidel. Do thou, therefore sutler nie to put out thine other eye, and then it will be nut right that I should order restitution, by removing one from this abominable cook." The Christian de parted, and was succeeded by the in jured husband, who told his woes. "By the Prophet's beard," quoth the Cadi, "1 see no way in this, save that thou shouldst divorce the lady, and marry her to the cook. Afterward, if it be heaven's will that she come again unto the same state, let him send her back to thee, and all will be well." This suitor also declined to proceed to execu tion, and there was only left the Greek, who vociferated for retaliation on the slayer of his brother. "Inshallah!" said the Judge, truly 'hurry is the de vil,' as the wise say; the cook shall suffer for it; this is but iust. Get thou, therefore, to the top of the min aret, and jump down on the ollender whom I will place below, and it shall be that if thou slayest him none shall complain." Hereupon the Greek also left the court like „tlie others, amid acclimations from the bystanders, who were loud in the praise ot the Cadi's wonderful decrees; but that function ary was presently heard to whisper to the cook, as lie quitted the court, "Never you send me 11113' more geese, my friend." I.oftt Children. A mother one day lost one of her child ren, a child of two years, and after a long 1 and anxious search found him in the kitcli eu closet, in a huge iron pot, fast asleep. He had been left in charge of a servent, who had fulfilled her duties by taking the child to the kitchen and then going off to gossip. A Mrs. D of Barrington, af ter a similar experience, found her missing 1 child in a bread-trough, sweetly sleeping on the dough. The trough was a very large ' one, used for mixing bread for the ship yard men, and when full of dough usually stood oiv-a low settee near the fire, that the bread might rise the quicker. The child during the absence of his elders from the kitchen, crept in and made himself com fortable. But more amusing than this was the case of a lady who lost her baby, and after disturbing the whole community, and crying herself nearly blind, found baby safe in the cradle, with clothes heaped in so disorderly a manner as to have defied pre -1 vius search! FOOD FOB THOUGHT. Love, faitlcpatience—-the three essen tials to a happy life. Human life is everywhere a state iu which much is to be endured. To possess the gift of helpfulness Is to be the mortgage of all who need. Every child walks Into existence through the golden gate of love. People must discuss something—lt Is tiie great preventive of insanity. When one's heart is full, one is not apt to drop a plummet Hue into it. Great souls hold firmly to heaven and let the earth roll on beneath tlieiu. Low as the grave is, only faith can climb high enough to see beyond it. It is not life to live for one's self alone. Let us help oue another. Let your word be your bond. Good credit is a fortune to begiu with. Peace is such a precious jewel, that I would give anything tor It but truth. Act well ai the moment, and you have performed a good deed to all eternity. Death is the funeral of all sorrows and evils, and the resurrectiou of all joys. Where one is fagged, hungry, and depressed, the worst seems most proba ble. if you have good health you have niiie-tenths of all the Lord ever gives to any man. He who has created us with a thirst after knowledge will certainly satisfy that thirst. Certain sermons are more calculated to weaken faith than to render men be lievers. Men show their character in nothing more,clearly than by what they think laughable. The grandest o! heroic deeds are those which are performed within four walls and in domestic privacy. He that does a base thing in zeal for bis friend, burns the golden thread that ties their hearts together. They who respect themselves will tie honored; but they who do not care for character will be despised. Be alweys on your guard against the devices of wicked men, when you hap pen to come hi contact with them. Some people have softening of the brain, but the world suffers more from those who have hardening of the heart. How great one's virtues best appears by occasions of adversity; for occasions do not make a man frail, butsbow what lie is. Rowland llill suid, when he ouce saw a boy 011 a rocking horse, "Like some Christians; motion enough, but no pro gress. Hard words are like hailstones iu summer, beating down and destroying what, if melted into drops, they wonld nourish. Those who disbelieve in virtue be cause man has never been found per fect, might as reasonably deny the sun, because it