PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY i IN LIUSSF.irS ITUIIYDING. Ctrncr ol .llnfn ni?d IVnn Sin., nl SI.OO PER AXNUX, IX ADVANCE; Or $1.25 if not p&id In adraeon. AraptaMe Coirespcadence Solcitsd, all letters to •MrT.Lirr.i:.: .rr^NAi.." Words and Needs* They do tie least Who talk the most; Whose good designs Are all their boast; For words are dew. They do the most Whose lives possess Tlio sterling stamp 01" righteousness; For deeds a:e true. And it the heart Be pure and good The life will bo * Just what it should— Not dew but tme. —By James H. Haadley. THE YOUNGEST CLERK, "Is it a beggar, Jane?" said Mrs- Troop. "Oh, don't send the poor creature away! (Jive him a glass of milk and a bit of cold beef!" "Please, ma'am," said Jane, "there ain't so much as a drop of milk left: and you gave the last of the beef to old Gideon Gallup. And besides, ma'am, I don't think it is a tramp at all. It's quite a respectable young man. in a brown linen duster, and a carpet-bag.'* "Oh!" said Mrs. Troop. "A new boarder, eh ?" "Well, ma'am, I ain't quite sure," said Jane, discreetly. "Folks is so different." "Jane," said Mrs. Troop, mysteri ously, "I see it all now. It's the youngest clerk." "Ma'am?" said Jane, in a bewilder ed way. "Oh, don't be so stupid!" cried Mrs- Troop, who was one of those nervous New England women who are perpet ually instinct with electricity, and who saw and comprehended things by flashes. "Call Barbara; and make haste about it!" Barbara came into the green gloom of the little pantry, whose window was thickly shaded with morning glory vines—a tall, slim lassie, with solemn blue-grav eyes, brown hair, and a slow grace of manner which she must have inherited from the birches on the mountain-side and the reeds in the swamp, for other teachers she had none. "What is it, mother?!" said she. "I was emptying the feathers out of the old pillow-ticks, and —" "Barbara," said Mrs. Troop, "don't bother about pillow-ticks! It's the youngest clerk—he's waiting just over there in the porch, with his bag. Can we accommodate him, do you think?" "Mother," sail Barbara, "what on earth do you mean ?" "Why," cried Mrs. Troop, with a little impatient gesture, "don't you re member old Mr. Fanshawe, the book keeper in Browne. Brownson & Browne's, telling us about tho young est clerk there, who had the weak lungs and the small salary? And he said he'd recommend him here, for his summer vacation; and he hoped we'd take him cheap and do what we could for him." "Oh!" said Barbara, arching her prtttv brow. "Yes, it seems to me now that I do remember something about it. But, mother, where can we put him? Every room is full -even to the two sloping-roofed chambers in the garret." "But a poor young man," said Mrs. Troop, in a distressed voice, "with hereditary consumption and almost no salary! Barbara, we never can turn him away!" "No, of course not," said Barbara reflecting. "Mother, I can manage it. Don't fret any more. Tell him he may come." "And high time, too," said Mrs. Troop, nervously, "with him waiting there on the porch, and wondering, no doubt, what all this delay means." She bustled out, with kindly hospi tality in her eyes. There, in the pur ple twilight, apparently listening to j the song of the whip-poor-wills on the mountain-side, sat a slender person, dressed in cool, brown linen, with a j valise resting on the floor beside him- How was Mrs. Troop to know that he had heard every word of the brief col loquy ? •'Madam," he said, lifting the straw hat from his curly head, "I—" "Oh, yes, yes!" said Mrs. Troop; "I know all about it. Your name is Browne—with Browne, Brownson & Browne. Mr. Fanshawe told me all about you. You are the youngest clerk there." "Madam, I—" "It isn't necessary to explain," kind ly interrupted Mrs. Troop. "We'll give you a room and board for two dollars a week. I can't promise you Rhe dainties they have at the Chocoma ■douse, but everything shall be elea n lid wholesome. Mr. Fanshawe knew ■would be interested in you, because I ■d lost a son of about your age." ■'lndeed, Mrs. Troop, I am very Hlch obliged to you, but—" wHere comes my daughter Barbara,'' Ihe sUlhrim 3ounuil. DELNINGEK fc BUMILLEU, Editors and Proprietors. VOL. I.VII. said Mrs. Troop, evidently desirous to abbreviate the newcomer's thanks. "Barbara, this is the youngest clerk. His name, 1 believe, is Browne." Barbara let her soft, blue-gray eyes rest upon his tired face for a second, with the most angelic sympathy. "Is your cough very bad this sum mer?" she asked. "Oh, 1 hope the mountains will do vou good! How r long a vacation have you -two weeks ?" He smiled. "Vou are very kind," he said. "The firm will allow me to be gone as long as 1 like. | "And your salary u ill go on just the same?" "And my salary will continue just the same." " That is what I call real generosity, *' said Barbara. "Oh, 1 should like to j thank Messrs. Browne. Brownson A Browne. Well, come in. Our little cottage is full of boarders, but mv mother and 1 will contrive to make room b r vou somewhere." And the pale boarderslept that night jU a little rose-scented room, with a strip of bright rag carpet on the lloor, hand-painted china vases on the wood en mantle, and cheap muslin curtains at the window, after a supper of I'lack caps and milk, delicious home-made bread, fresh honey and johnny-cake. "Two dollars a week for such fare as this, to say nothing of my cunning little corner room!" said Mr. Browne to himself. "L never boarded so cheap ly before in all my life." At the end of a week he was more than delighted with his summer home. Mrs. Troop was the kindest and most motherly of hostesses; Barbara was the impersonation of sweet and graciou s refinement. The mountain was full of purple glens, merry-voiced cascades' winding footpaths and breezy heights. Mr. Browne enjoyed himself intensely. He believed that he had come to tho right place. "Don't you think." said Barbara to her mother, "that he's very strong for a consumptive?" "it's that herb-tea, and the diet of honey and new milk that is building ! him up," said Mrs. Troop, triumphant" ly. "1 never knew it fail yet in lung ( diseases. But he's very pleasant, Barby, isn't he?" "Very!" said Barbara, earnestly. Mr. Browne had not been a month at the little cottage on the mountain, when, overtaken by a sudden shower, lie took refuge in an old, unused barn, j not far away from the house, where a ; thicket of blossoming elderberries con cealed the rule stone basement, and a veteran yellow pine tree llung its ban ner of black-green shade over the mossy shingles of the roof. Unused, except to stow sweet hay in—and in one corner a little'chamber had been, finished off, long ago, with a brick j chimney an l a tiny-paned lattice. The ; door was half open, and Mr. Brown e ! could discern a littl* cot-bed, draped with white; a dimity-covered toilet stand, whose coarse, cheap bowl and pitcher were enriched with purple and crimson autumn leaves in hand-paint ing, an I a little needlework rug which lay at the foot of the bed. "Ah," said Mr. Browne, to that best of confidants, himself, "I comprehend it all now! 1 have displaced Maderaoi- ! selle Barbara from the little corner i room in the cottage. Upon my word,' I feel like a usurper! But how good; they are, this mother and daughter, i whose only income is derived from this precarious occupation of taking summer boarders! How unselfish,how utterly self-sacrificing! There are good Samaritans yet left in the world, thank heaven!" When September came, with its yel low leaves and its clusters of vivid blue asters on the edges of the woods, Mr. Browne prepared to return to the city. "You are sure you are strong enough to resume work?" said Mrs. Troop, anxiously. "Mother," said Barbara, "lie isn't at all like an invalid. Either old Mr. Fanshawe was mistaken, or else Mr. Browne has made an almost miracu lous recovery." Just at this instant Jane came to tell Mrs. Troop that neighbor Jackson was at the door wa ting to borrow a drawing of tea The gentle widow bustled out; Mr. Browne turned to Barbara. "Yes," said he, "I am going to return to New York. But I shall leave something behind me." "We shall be very happy to take charge of anything for you," said Bar bara, who was sorting over red-cheeked pears for preserving. "Shall you? But you don't know what it is, Barbara," suddenly lapsing into extreme gravity, "it is my heart. I am driven to confess that I have lost it—and to you." "You are joking!" cried Barbara, coloring and 'ialf-disposed to be indig nant "I never was more serious in my life," asseverated Mr. Browne. "I do love you, dear little Barbara, truly and tenderly. Do you think you could dare to trust your future to me? Boor as 1 seem, 1 could yet give you a good home." "Uh, 1 am not afraid of that," said Barbara, with rising color and droop ing eyelashes. "1 have been brought up to be independent, yoh know, and J believe I could earn a little money by art work, if ever 1 hud the chance, li —if you really care for me—" "My own darling!" "Then —yes, I do love you!" So Barbara was wooed and won. "Of course, tho dear little mother must live with us," said Mr. Browne* "1 couldn't do without her!" Mrs. Troop, who had once more joined the group, looked puzzled. "Is it a fiat," said she, wistfully. "No. I occupy a whole house." "But dear me!" cried the mother-in* law-elect, "isn't that rather extrava gant ?" "1 think not," said Mr. Browne, scri" ouslv. "But must you really be married at once?" "I should like to carry both Barbara and you back to the city with me,' said the lover. "Anil poor Jane? Though, of course, it would be out of the question for Barbara to keep a hired girl?" hesitat ed Mrs. Troop. "Oh, Jane must come, too," said Mr. Browne. "Bring her with you, by all means. We can manage it somehow. To tell you the truth—" "Well," said Mrs. Troop, eagerly. "I am a fraud and a delusion," con fessed Mr. Browne, while Barbara raised her soft eyes in amazement. "1 am not the youngest clerk in tho lirm at all. The youngest clerk went out to Bermuda,at the expense of the tirim last spring. I hope he is doing well in that climate. This man was Ferdi nand Brown. I am Augustus Browne, the youngest partner." "But however came you here?'' eagerly questioned Mrs. Troop. "Didn't Mr.Faushawerecommend you?" "Not at all. I came to the hotel.but 1 it was full; and they thought that per liiipi; I could La pr.ix ided tor KR IS, 1883. A PAPtR FOR THE HOME CIRCLE. THE WINTER PALACE. IK nuit I flee tie (- of lln Homo of thr 4'i.n r of All Hi" lliiKhlnn. A letter to the San Francisco Chronir <7. from St. Petersburg says: Scarce as money is ;uid po ir as are the mass of people, there is enough to keep up a certain style, especially m royal palaces and public buildings. Thanks to tho courtesy of (. M. Hutton, tho United States vice consul general, who was in charge of tho consulate, we ob tained permission to go over the win ter palace, a favor not always granted to strangers. It is a huge building of brown stone and -covers a large area, each of the sides (it is neaily square) measuring some 150 feet; but it is not more than ninety feet high, and tho heavy cornice that forms an almost un broken line round the top still further detracts from tho height. Placed on this cornice are a largo number of statues, which it requires no great stretch of imagination to conceive to be persons endeavoring to escape from destruction by the way of the roof, so jumbled up are they with the chimneys. The general effect of tho building, which only dates from 1830, would be poor were it not for its size, which, to some extent, makes up for want of architoctual grandeur. The interior is .also devoid of any special architoctual features, and there is no grand stair case. It is simply a huge square box f divided up into rooms, but some of these are truly magnificent, and when tilled with the flower of Russian so ciety, as they are at state receptions during the winter season, must look grand indeed. Peter's throne-rooni f with silver chandeliers, red tinted walls, and highly decorated dome l union hall, with gilded columns ; the throne-room with its massive marble pillars and gold chandeliers and the plate-room, with crystal chandeliers and trophies of gold and silver plate against the walls and stands sloping up to the very ceiling, are all imperial apartments in every sense. The succession of re. ception rooms and corridors is also most imposing, although the paintings of battle scenes, where carnage and rapino are depicted in all their horrors with a monotony that becomes ;dmost nauseating, seems to be hardly adapt 0(1 to excllltiiVo toJvr* ivinmc in tended for gay assemblages, and they must form a ghastly contrast to bright 'oilets and glittering jewels, and fair womanly forms. The visitor is escorted through hall after hall decorated with almost barbar ic magnificence, and as each one is taken under the charge of a fresh at tendant, attired in gorgeous imperial livery. The place, which at present is quite unoccupied—as the emperor re sides at another palace some distance up the Newski prospect—fairly swarms with servants, who are all well dress ed and courteous and extremely idle* having apparently nothing else on earth to do excejit to stand or walk about in the empty apartments, which are seldom trodden by any other feeU Here and there is to be seen a superior officer, in full uniform, evi dently in charge of some part of the building, and at one point we sudden ly tame upon two Cossack sentinels, armed to the teeth and standing motionless on each side of a doorway- This was the entrance to the room con" taining tho crown jewels. Our attend ant inserted a key, two heavy iron doors swung open, and we were usher ed in. The room was almost bare, with the exception of some glass-top ped cases, si ch as are used at museums for manuscripts and objects of interest* which stood near the walls, and two central stands, but when tho cloths which covered them were removed, the sight was dazzling. In the side c;ises was a collection of tiaras and aigrettes and pendants, in brilliants and rubie a and pearls. The central stands bore the crown regalia; the emperor's crown, a huge mass of diamonds of the purest water, surrounded by an extra ordinary uncut ruby; the empress' crown, somewhat smaller, if possible more brilliant, anil the sceptre, bearing on its top tho celebrated Lazaroff dia mond, of which the story is told that it was stolen from an Indian temple and carried off concealed in a cut in the leg of its purloiner. Compared with these Muscovite gems all others that I have ever looked on are dull and small- One thing in the picture-gallery of the palace was remarkable, and that is the absence of peculiarly Russian worthies whose portraits covered the wall 3. There were faces of strictly English type, Swedish faces in small and German faces of any quantity, but Russian faces none, and no one could guess that he was surrounded by the likenesses of men by whom the great northern power had been built up. It is very much the same to-day. The leading men here are quite differ ent in appearance than the mass of the people, so different that they might well belong to another race. They have, many of them, fine features and noble forms. Holland. Holland, writes W. A. Croffut, was originally a sort of archipelago—a vast sea made shallow by the alluvium washed down from Central Europe through the changing channels of great streams. Its area was equal to that of Massachusetts und Connecticut. Hero and there tho sand and mud washed level with the surface of the water, and on this trembling mass the people clustered, and grew precarious food, and fought ever for firmer foot ing. Now they drove back the ocean; now the ocean drove them back and drownod them out. For many years they have slept on tho battle-field with weapon in hand and armor on, never relaxing effort and never feel ing for a moment secure. The inces sant combat lias made them a robust, patient, vigorous and overcoming poo pie. But tho victories have not beeD all on one side. Every ten years or so the savage sea would storn. the forti* float ions and drown 10,000 or 20,000 ol the farmers. Then, where the sand dunes were too low for defense, the} built a great system of dykes, reaching far beneath the tides and far below ( tho wonder of the world. Still the brigand Mouse would steal through its walls, or the Zuider Zee would burst its prison, or the barbarian sea would leap its barriers, and there was a do. structive inundation about once in seven years for centuries. Onee 75,- 000 people were drowned, at another time 100,000 —a slaughter three times as great as that at Waterloo. More than once since that great battle was fought 20,000 Hollanders have been swept away in a single overflow. But the survivors were obstinate. They drove back the sea and rebuilt their villages. They strengthened the do. fences along the coast and erected windmills upon them, which incessant ly pumped out the water and poured it into the sea. They put the rampant rivers in strait-jackets of solid mason, ry, divided them so they would bo harmless and taught them docility. Then they constructed walls around the great lakes, and started windmills on theui. In this way they have reclaimed more fertile land than there is in the state of Uhode Island. It was likft dr;iinin2 lake George. An enterprise is now on foot to build a dyke across that groat inland gulf, the Zuider Zee, pump the lower half dry and expose to the sun a vast area of arable land. It would be below the level of the sea, of course, but the Dutch farmers are accustomed to plow below the level of the keels of the ocean steamers oIT the coast Signifi cant, indeed, are the arms of Holland —a lion swimming in the sea. Heavy Theft. The St. Petersburg Viedomosti re ports that the summer palace of the czar at Peterhof was a few nights ago entered by burglars, who successfully eluded the vigilance of the spies, de tectives, soldiers, servants and dogs employed to guard the building, and, having broken down doors, safes cupboards and boxes, made off with a vast quantity of very valuable booty. Among the valuables stolen are a number of gold and silver medals, an immense amount of jewel ry belonging to the empress, and the curious dishes iu which the peasants brought bread and salt to the late czar at the time of the emancipation of the serfs. The police have since arrested about a score of suspicious persons, but it appears to be tolera bly certain that the thieves are still at large. 'Brave Officer. "Old Benbow," whom the 'beau Ben"of faithless Sally Brown "fought," as recorded by Hood, was an admiral. His last and most celebrated battle was fought off Carthagena with Admiral l)u Casso in 170:*. lie was left by his captains, wdio were afterward shot, to carry on the engagement alone, and ho continued the fight, remaining on the quarter deck, although his leg had been shattered by a chain shot, until the French sheered off. The admiral of the enemy's lleet wrote him a letter three days after the battle, saying : 44 Sir—I had little hopes on Monday liist but to have supped in your cabin ; yet it pleased God to order it otherwise. lam thankful for it." Bendow died of his wounds in two months. A Cool Wave, The old gentleman met him at the door, almost before Hernandez' hand had left the bell-knob, and with one courtly gesture of his paternal hand waved the young man in the general direction of the front gate. Hernan dez obeyed, with infinite tact and courtesy, remarking, as he moseyed down the deserted street, that he knew the signal service had predicted a cool w r ave from the northwest, but he had no idea it would get along so soon. Terms, SIOO Per Year in Advance. PEARLS OF THOUGHT. Words are the key of the heart. Affection is the broadest basis of a good life. Ungratefulness is the very poison of manhood. Wo are never as happy nor as un happy as we fancy. It is a good rule to be deaf when a slanderer begins to talk. A woman who wants a charitable heart wants a pure mind. Wo have suflicient strength to sup | port the misfortunes of others. The utility of virtue is so plain, that the unprincipled feign it from policy The great event of to-day is usually but a trille in the memory of to-mor row. Borrowed thoughts, like borrowed money, only show the poverty of the borrower* There is very little that we do in the way of helping our neighbors that does not come back in blessings on ourselves. It is with narrow-souled people as with narrow-necked bjttles; the less they have in them, the more they make in pouring it out. If a man empties his purse into his head, no man can take it away from him. An investment in knowledge always pays the best iuterest. Love is the most terrible, also the most generous of the passions; it is the only one that includes in its dreams tho happiness of some one else. Every duty well done, doubtless adds to the moral and spiritual stat ure. Each opportunity eagerly grasp ed and used is ihe key to larger privileges. Music is the harmonious voice of creation; an echo of the invisible world; one note of tlie divine concord which the entire universe is destined one day to sound. If a man does not make new ac quaintances as he advances through life he will soon find himself left alone. A man should keep his friend ship in conutuot repair. It oral Routine. There must be a good deal of same ness in the dailv routine of existence * after all. I was struck with this in the park yesterday while observing the Princess of Wales as she was driving along the sweep which extends from the Marble Arch to the Oxford-street entrance to the park to the gorgeous statue of the Princo Consort on the Kensington side. In response to the bows and salutations of the assemblage she.bows her head, first to the right and then to the left continuously There is almost no cessation in the exercise. It is a part of her duty in life. And the bow is a study—a won. derful medium between listlessness and cordiality. The features remain quite smileless ; there is no suspicion of the smirk of the popular favorite of the footlights for instance. But tlie> eyes are full of interest as they light on every passing face, and it is im possible to entertain a doubt that one has been bowed to, distinctly and di rectly, by the princess. That is what so enchants people—not only people iu a certain position in life, but the poor people, the hard toilers of the busy town, who stop on their way to have a look at the dear princess. There seems almost as keen a look of interest in them upon her face as she sees in theirs concerning her. No one can see her without feeling an admiration foi her. But one who looks beneath the surface of things must know, although so well dissembled, that this is only acting out the royal part It cannot j be that Alexandra really feels the in terest ber features indicate in even passing stranger who bows to her in the park. And it must he a consider- t able deprivation to her in the way of talking to those who accompany her— this constant bowing. Yesterday her eldest daughter was with her, and also one of those cousinly grand German duchesses—semi-royal—over on a visit. The ladies were reduced to helpless silence, for so continuous was Alex andra's bowing she could not find time to talk to them, and no doubt it is con trary to etiquette for lesser lights to converse with each other when the great one can take no part. How simple and elegant Alexandra's toilets always are! Always so neat, compact and trim! During the hot weather she has been wearing simple washing prints to the park. Yesterday the sky was slightly overcast and she was ap propriately dressed in black silk with small brocaded flowers in natural colors. She wore a tiny white lace bonnet, with black spotted net veil. Her appearance of girlishness is one of the most marvellous charms of this stainless princess. NEWSPAPER TAWS. If mibacribers order the diocontiinmlloo of newnpiipera, tk publishers may continue to pond tlieui until all arrearage* are paid. If Hubsrribera rrfiw'r neglect to lake their newspapers from the offlce to wliich they are mut, they are held responsible until thejr h.-ve pett lt*d the bills and ordered them dia contiir.wd. If subscribors move to other places with out informing; tlie publisher, anu the news papers are sent to the former place of resi dence, they are then responsible. AD V KRfifiiNO RATES: II wk. I o. I Smt. I 6mt*. J I yM SI 00 S 3 00 $ oo $ 40019 tm 800 400 I I l| 2fiS?J mm iOO 800 '8 001 SO 00 I ®oßi 800 18 001 >oo| 35W>1 I 00 ! (jine Inch innkh r iMiunrw! Adnimti itor* ftad Ks irutum' Notu-4-R:.W. TruniiWt it<)vurtl.nnieata Hi 11 U>r:tlb 10 ir line for rtr*t inaertian and t owU p* J iw for oaul! ailJitiou.il maartioa. NO. 11. Parting. Yoa know when friends are parting And hearts must say good-by, II iw oft they kiss, long linger, And how they woep and sigh. You know whon we two parted, With jest and idle laughter, The sadness and the ttpra Come to ns long years alter. When sickness and when sorrow Stole hall our lives away, Ah, then we still remembered j Car laughing, loving day. Then came a thrill ot gladness, Like gleaming trorn above; II half our life bore sadness, O '-hall, at least, was love. -11. Bewail. HUMOROUS. "No more reflections, please," said the looking-glass, after it had tumbled downstairs. It is very unlucky to have thirteen at a table, particularly when there is only enough to satisfy the appetite of ten. * An Ohio dentist has devoted him self to active politics, probably on the ground that his calling has fitted him for "taking the stump." A young bride, on being asked how her husband turned out, replied that he ! turned out very late in the morning and turned in very late at night. A fortune awaits the man who in vents a penholder that you can't stick into the mucilage bottle, and a muci lage brush that won't go into the ink stand. "Nerve!" said the young man to his friend, "why, Jack's got a heap of nerve. He wasn't embarrassed a bit the first time he went to a barber's shop to get shaved." "Mamie says you can't come to see her any more," said a boy to his sister's admirer. "Why not?" "Be cause you come to see her seven nights a week now, and how could you come any more?" Silence was the only answer. "Is Dr. Calomel v(\y successful in his practice?" "Very; he has cleared over $20,000 the last two years." "In deed! But has he lost any patients?" "Only those who have died. Of course*, tliov could be of no help to him any longer.*" "Of course not. A young lady reading in a news paper the other day of a girl having been made crazy by a sudden kiss called the attention of her uncle, who was in the room, to that singular oc currence, whereupon the old gentle" man gruffly demanded what the fool had gone crazy for. "What did she go crazy for?" archly asked the ingen uous maiden; " why, for more, I sup pose." Ireland's National Color. Ireland may be said to be an emerald isle and green enough in a great many ways, but the flag of that country is uot green, but blue, if any respeot is to be paid to traditions or heraldry or the actual facts in the case, whatever sort of emblem may be commonly used. The green banner is the result of popu lar belief of several centuries'duration, but the old books tell a different story. T here was a Duke of Ireland, says the Pall Mall Gazette, in Richard H'a time, Robert de Yere, Duke of Ireland and Marquis of Dublin, to whon the king granted a coat of augmentation, "awire, three crowns or, with a border argent." In Edward IYs time the arms of Ireland were such a problem for the heralds that commissioners were sent to investigate and to report* Tho commissioners pronounced that the arms of that kingdom were three crowns in pale. A drawing in the British Museum settles the question. The drawing was made in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, or, at least, registered the colors as they existed in her reign. The national flag appears then to have been a harp or with strings argent on an azure ground. Thus in early times the national flag was certainly blue. An Insult to the Profession. A prominent physician was heard using very uncomplimentary language about a certain butcher. "Why is it," asked a friend of the doctor, "that you abuse that butcher so much? You are everlastingly say ing mean things about him." "I've got good reason to talk about him. Last winter I owned a fat pig. I gent for -that butcher to kill and dress it. He did so, but what do yon think he told me when I wanted, to know what his bill was ?" "I have no idea." "Well, sir, that butcher patted me on the back and said: 'Never mind about the Mil, doctor, we are in the same business, you know, We pro fessional men must help each other otit' I was so mad at the fellow I could have—" "Prescribed for him," added the doc tor's friend.