Millheim Journal. (Millheim, Pa.) 1876-1984, November 08, 1883, Image 1
PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY IN MUSSER'S BUILDING. Cmmmr •# IWnJn and Pann Nt*., at SI.OO PER ANNUM, 15 ADVANCE) Or Sl .es if not piM In ieeeptiile Ctmsjiradened Solicited, OF"AddrM all letters to "MILLHELM JOURNAL." Ripened Wheat. bent to-day o'er a coffined form. And our tears fell softly down. We looked our last on the aged face, With its look of peace, its patient grace, And hair like a silver crown. We touched our own to the clay-cold hands, From life's long labor at rest; And among the blossoms white and sweet We noted a bunch ol golden wheat Clasped close to the silent breast. The blossoms whispered of fadeless bloom. Of the land where fulls no tear; Put the ripe wheat told of toil and care, Ihe patient waiting,tho trusting prayer, The garnered good of the year. We know not what work her hands had foundi What rugged place her feet; What cross was hers, what blackness of night; We saw but peace, the blossoms white, And the bunch of ripened wheat. LOST HER PLACE. A STORY OF WASHINGTON I IFE. "It's only a six-hundred office!" said Crocus Graham, with flushed cheek and glittering eyes. "And when mv car-fares are paid, and my dress pro vided for, there isn't so much, after all! I'm sure nobody need covet it!" Mrs. Graham looked at her daughter with folded hands and a troubled ex pression of countenance. "Yes, I know, Crocus," she said, in that soft, tremulous falsetto of hers. •'But- six hundred dollars is six hun dred dollars, and, after ail, these public offices are a deal more genteel than school-teaching, or dress-making, or any other way by which a friendless woman may earn a living. And this Mrs. Altamont has powerful political friends, and they tell me a place must be found for her, at all hazards." "And so," cried indignant Crocus, "I am to be flung—and you with me, mamma—helpless upon the world!" "Not helpless, Crocus, dear!" "Mamma, how can it be otherwise?" said Crocus, looking pitifully down on her little white hands, pink as to the nails, and dimpled as to the joints. "•We cannot dig—l<> beg we are ashamed!' But I never will demean myself to ask favors of the depart ment I have always done my duty faithfully, and earned my salary. And now to be displaced for the sake of a dashing society widow with big eyes and rouged cheeks—is it not enough to make one blush for one's country?" "It's the way of the world. Crocus!" sighed Mrs. Graham. "The weak must stand aside, while the chariots of the strong roll on!" "But I couldn't have believed it of the auditor, mamma!" urged Crocus "He was poor papa's old friend, and he was always so very, very kind to mel" "An auditor, my dear, has something to do besides to study to do besides to study the welfare of every one of the clerks in his department,reasoned Mrs. Graham. "I am sorry I bought that new dress now," said Crocus, regretfully. "I didn't really need it; but the pattern was so pretty!—pink moss-rosebuds on a white ground. It was only twenty five cents a yard; but there was the making, and the ribbon-bows and loops, and the buttons. And 1 have saved so little out of mv salary! Oh. mamma! how could I have been so improvident? What will a hundred and seventy-five dollars do toward supporting us now ?" "Look, Crocus!" Mrs. Graham, sitting by the window, had chanced to perceive an open barouche rolling leisurely down Penn sylvania avenue under the bowery droop of the trees, with an elegantly dressed lady reclining among its satin cushions, and a portly, red-faced gen tleman seated by her side. "I see," said Crocus, slightly frown ing, while a scarlet spot came into either cheek. "It is Mrs. Altamont And that is her cousin, the senator Did you see the diamonds flash in her ears, mamma? Oh, of course, Senator Stalkcup can demand any favor he pleases from the government for any needy relation he happens to have! And I —poor I—am to be the scrape goat. I dare say, the six-hundred-dol lar salary will do very well to buy gloves and boots and eau de cologne for Mrs. Altamont. To us, mamma, it was a living." Crocus Graham was the daughter of a gallant officer, who had died in his country's service. She had been in a boarding-school when he died, and her first experience of the real world was in the public office at Washington, where she was set diligently at work. She liked it. She gloried in thus supporting herself and her mother, in stead of sinking to the level of millin ery, boarding-house keeping or genteei beggary. She engaged board at the cheapest place which was consonant with her dignity as a lady. She mended her gloves and made over her mother's caps, and rejoiced greatly in that she was independent of the world which uses widows and orphans so hardly. tlu fflilllwiiti journal. PEININGER & BUMIJoIiER. Editors and Proprietors VOL. LVIT. "Mamma." said Crocus, suddenly' "I won't wait to be discharged*—l'll resign!" "Would that he wise. Crocus?" said the gentle widow. "We'll go West s mamma." said Crocus. "Uncle Joseph took up a government claim in Dnkota. We'll raise chickens and bees, and turn farmers there!" "But, darling, wllat can two women like us do?" pleaded .Mrs. Graham. "Two women, mamma!" cried Cro cus, trying to laugh. "Why, there's nothing in all the world that they can'/ do! 1 may be returned yet as one of the representatives ol some hitherto unnamed territory; and in that case, I'll do my best to pass a law that no political influence shall drive a hard working girl from her plaoe, to make room for an overdressed widow who wants to earn a little more pin money—" "Crocus!" "Wouldn't it be a good-idea, mamma ? But now I must sit down and count the money 1 have left of 4his month's salary. lam not by any means sure that I have enough to take us to Dakota—unless indeed voe were to sell the old pearl brooch that belonged to your mother. And I've a sort of fancy that luck would desert us if we parted with that old pearl brooclv" Later in the afternoon, Crocus Gra ham put on the pink mos-rose gown, with a pretty little hat of rose-colored crape, which she had herself made and crept out under the shadow of the great lime-trees in thecapitol grounds, to hear the band play. All the world was there—the belles of the great city, the fashionables, the notabilities. Elegant carriages block ed up the drives; rainbow groups studded the velvet lawns; and almost the first thing which Crocus saw was the tall figure of the twenty-fifth auditor, standing beside .Senator Stalkcup's carriage, while that rubi cund personage gesticulated vehement ly, and Mrs. Altamont leaned smiling ly forward, beneath the golden-shadow of her amber-lined parsol. "My cousin must be provided for, don't you see?" said the senator. "And they tell me that your depart ment is the pleasantest place in the Treasury Building; and if there isn't any vacancy* just now, why, you must make one! Nothing can be easier, I am sure." "You think so?" said the twenty fifth audior, who was a tall man, with Indian-dark hair and eyes, and a Napoleonic conformation of brow. "Think so, man? I know it!" said the senator. "Rotation in office— that's the only fiafe rule. Keep the wheel turning—nvike matters lively!'' Just then the lime of carriages be gan to move slowly* on. The auditor stepped back; Mrs. Altamont waved hf?r cream-gloved hand, and the roseate countenance of Senator Stalkcup was wafted from view. As the auditor turned into a path sweet with roses and shadowed with the "dropping gold" of laburnum, he came face to face with Crocus, sitting on a rustic bench of twiated cedar boughs. "Mr. Harrington!" she exclaimed, with a start. "Miss Graham!" "j—J only came out to hear the band play, and get a little breath of fresh air," faltered Crocuf. "It is a beautiful place here," said Mr. Harrington, gravel}'. He had known Miss Graham for two years now. He had seen her daily at her desk; he bad exchanged courteous salutations -with her, .as she came, every morning, rxit of the yellow. Southern sunshine into the cool arcades of the marble-pillared Treasury Build ing, with roses in her bosom, and the soft flush of youth and health on her cheek. Her dead father had been good to him, as a young man, and he had never forgotten this. And besides— But Crocus' heart sank piteousJy, as he looked down at her with that seri ous, observant eye of his. "He is thinking how he shall break it to me," she thought to herself. "Oh, dear! oh, dear! I wish it were all over, and I was safe on the Dakota farm, with mamma and the beehives." He spoke at last, after what seemed an interminable silence—spoke in a low, earnest voice. "Miss Graham," lie said, "did you ever think of leaving the depart ment ?" "Of giving up my office?" uttered Crocus, quickly. "Yes," he said. "I suppose, of course, it would amount to that." Crocus rose and stood playing with the tassel on her fan in a nervous sort of way. "It is very kind of you to lead up to the subject so carefully, Mr. Harring ton," said she, "but —but 1 know all about it already." He looked at her with puzzled, in tent eyes. T do not see how that, can he possi ble, Miss Graham," said he. "Oh, 1 am quicker-sighted than you think!" Crocus answered, with a forced laugh. "I have seen it coming for some time. It is scarcely necessary, I suppose, to ask my opinion." "But it is necessary— very necessary, indeed!" said the auditor. "I am some years your senior, Miss Graham, but I believe 1 could make you happv. At least that is the conclusion at which 1 have arrived, after many days and nights of reflection on the subject. And if you will decide to look favor ably upon my suit—" "But," cried Crocus, with burning cheeks, "I was talking about my office in the department!" "And I," said Mr. Harrington, "am talking about you]" If the winged god Mercury had come down from his marble pedestialamong the catalpa-trees—if tho magnificant statue of the "Pioneer" had descended from the portico above, and asked for her love, Crocus Graham could not have been more taken by surprise. ••I'm afraid I am very stupid, Mr. Harrington," she said; "but—but did you mean to ask mo if—" "If you would marry me—yes!" said the twenty-fifth auditor, composedly. "It doesn't seem possible!" said Cro cus; and then, in her bewilderment of happiness, she began to cry. Poor, little, human wild-flower! she never had anticipated any such sun shine as this. So Mrs. Altamont got the six-hun dred-dollar office, and Senator Stalk cup was satisfied. And the Dakota farm project remained a myth. And sometimes when Crocus comes to her husband's private office in the department, a sweet-faced matron in silk and jewels, she looks pityingly at the lady-clerks, with Mrs. Altamont in their midst, and wonders if it were possible that she was once one of them. "It seems so long ago," says Mrs. Harrington—"oh, so very, very long!" —Helen Forest Graves. I fie Second Greatest Man. If we are united in the opinion as to which is our best month, we are equally of one mind who was the greatest man that the United States has produced. That has become a traditional article of belief. But the question now is, Who was or is oui second greatest man? This is a ques tion which the Drawer refers to the autumn and winter debating societies for solution. It will be a good exercise for the young gentlemen and young ladies—for we remember what age we are living in. that we are living in a grand and awful time, and perhaps it was a woman—to bring forward their candidates for the second honor, and to refresh the mind of their audiences with the virtues of these rival claims to greatness. The question is an old one, for we learn in Judge ci C'urtis's able 'Life of James Buchanan" that it was asked in 1833 in the Alex ander Institution, in Moscow. In one of his letters Mr. Buchanan says that he heard the boys examined there, and to the question, "Who was the greatest man that America had produced?'' a boy promptly answered, "Washington." But on the second question, "Who was the next in great ness?" the boy hesitated, and the ques tion has never been answered. The same boy, who might have settled this question if he had not hesitated, was asked who was the celebrated ambassa dor to Paris, and instantly answered, as if ho had been in a civil service ex amination, Ptolemy Philadelphus. But he at once corrected himself, and said Franklin. And tho Drawer thinks that Franklin wouldn't be a bad second to start on.— Harper's Mayazine. Three Thousand Snakes. According to Science tho number of snakes killed near Falls City, Nob., during an overflow of tho Nemaha river is almost beyond belief. They we r e driven by tho water from the bottom lands to the higher grounds, and especially to the embankments thrown up for railways. It is estimat that more than 3000 snakes were kill ed within a mile of this town. They were chiefly garter -snakes, but water moccasins, blue racers and rattle snakes were also killed. A horse was confined in a pasture surrounded by a wire fence in the overflowed district, and when released it was found that several snakes had taken refuge in his mane. Since my residence here I have traveled nearly all over this country, yet up to the time of the present overflow, I had failed to see half a dozen snakes all told. The overflowed district along the Nemaha would not average over a mile in width, and it is astonishing where so many snakes found hiding places. Nearly all the snakes in this country are confined to the creek and river bottoms. MILLIIFJM, FA.. THURSDAY, NOVKMKHK 8. 1883. A FAPLR TOR THC HOMC CIRCLE. EARTH TORPEDOES. An Ins piitlon Which la About to HOTOIU- Untitle the Art of tVr. Particulars concerning tho earth tor pedoes which were lately tested at Thur have been published by tho Geneva papers. Tho result of the ex periments was considered so satisfact ory that tho Swiss military authorities have advised the federal council to purchase the right of making tho tor pedoes and the secret of their construc tion from the inventor, Lieut. Feodor von Zubowitz of the Austrian army. The Zubowitz torpedo, according to several high military authorities, is destined to effect a partial revolution In the art of war, especially of defen sive war. It renders possible tlie lay ing, in a very short time and by com mon workmen, of a series of powerful mines, any ono of which can be made, us circumstances may require, either harmless or arranged in such a manner as to be exploded by a shock, a train of gunpowder or an electric wire. In fifteen minutes sixty men can furnish with these torpedoes a line 1000 yards long. The system, moreover, offers great advantages for strengthening the outworks of permanent or tempo rary fortifications, barring defiles, pro tecting an exposed flank, reinforcing a barricade, covering a weak detach ment or defending a line of retreat. The perfection of this engine of de struction occupied Lieut Zubowitz seven years, and it is said now to have al' the properties which such an inven tion ought to possess—certainly of ef fect. cheapness, simplicity of construc tion and ease of manipulation. After a series of searching experiments it was warmly recommended by the en gineer section of the Austrian military commission and was used with success during the late insurrection in the south of Dalmatia. On one occasion ten men completely barred, in seven teen minutes, the pass of llan with fifteen torpedoes. In appearance the torpedo is a sort of square shrapnel. The charge is explosive Trautzel gela tine, and by means of a simple interior mechanism, can be burst either above ground, under a layer of earth or under water. The torpedoes are made in Borion corresponding with their charges, which range from four pounds to 100 pounds, and are classed respect ively according to tie use for which they are destined, as torpedoes of ol>- servation, of contact and of percussion. The two last named sorts are meant to be exploded by the enemy—involunta rily, of course. The contact torpedo may be put in any place where its ex istence is not likely to be suspected in an abandoned carriage, placed across a road, behind a door or a gate which has to be opened, the mere removal of the obstrcle being sufficient to cause the explosion. The percussion torpedo is hidden a few inches beneath the Foil or in a drain, and explodes readily under the weight of a number of men or the pressure of a vehicle or the tramp of a horse. The four-pound torpedoes are for instant use, and being easy of transport, may be taken almost wherever troops can march. Twenty-five of them can be packed on one bat mule. A single torpedo of this caliber will break up an ordinary road to its lull width, and three or four torpedoes along a road are suffi cient to render it impassable. They pulverize everything within a diame ter of seven and break everything within a diameter of thirteen metres from the centre of explosion. They may be buried under four or five cent imetres of earth without detriment to their destructive effect. It is only the larger engines that ran be buried deeper than this without impairing their efficiency. Up to a distance of three kilometres explosion can he produced mechanically without the aid of electricity, cither by design on the part of the operator or involunta rily by some act of the enemy. As touching the time required to place these torpedoes under a layer of earth five, centimetres thick, it has been foilnd by actual experiment that in fifteen minutes sixty men may sow in this way one hundred and twenty en gines in three or four lines over one square kilometer of ground, thereby rendering it absolutely impassable. A regiment that would attempt to march over it would be simply pulverized. A Whistling Tree. the deep and almost impenetrable forests of Nubia is found a tree that utters at times the most mournful and plaintive notes. Sometimes these sounds are shrill and clear, at others die away to an aflnost imperceptible whisper, as if some captive spirit were complaining of its lot. The effect is singular, weird and startling, until the cause is known. The tree is a species of Acacia,and the sound is produced by cap-shaped galls or secretions of some insect. The wind in passing through the tree produces the whistling noise referred to. A WAR REMINISCENCE. 11 o tt a Ilrgnlir Officer Wri Thumped Into llnp.rt for the Volunteer*. Beading General Lew Wallace's let ter to the eleventh Indian regiment, defending his course nt I was reminded of an accident which hap pened shortly after that conflict, said a veteran of tho war to a representa tive of tho Indianapolis Journal. It happened at Louisville, and General Wallace and tho late General K. O. C. Ord, his son (who acted as ono of his father's aids), and Major James R. Boss, of this city, who was at the timo acting as Wallace's aid-de-camp, were the parties interested. There was al ways an air of superiority worn by the officers of tho regular army towards those of the volunteer service, and this feeling was so bitter on tho part of some as to be the cause of a feeling amounting almost to positive hatred. Ord was a general of the regulars, and his son was a lieutenant in the same service, of equal rank with Ross, a vol unteer, and young Ord occasionally took occasion to snub his comrade, but the latter was not the kind of a man to toady any one. It was after the battle of Shiloh and a number of general officers and members of their staffs were at Louisville, with head quarters at the Louisville hotel, among the number being General Ord and his son. They never omitted an opportu nity to speak sneeringly of General Wallace, or for that matter, any vol unteer officer. Gn n night young Ord was engaged in playing billiards in the billiard-room of the hotel, and his father was in the corridor talking with some other officers. It was pro- posed that the party take a walk about tho city, and as the night was cool the general turned to Major Ross, and in a tone of command, said: "Lieutenant, go to mv room and get iny overcoat." The young officer turned sharply, and, without offering to obey the command, replied, jerking his thumb over lif? shoulder in the direction of the bil liard-room: "There is an .artist in there sir, who can act as your servant." The general said nothing, but was forced t° make his son stop playing to do the errand or climb the stairs himself, and chose the former course. After the occurrence young Ord was even more overbearing in his demeanor towards Ross than ever before, and the feel ing of animosity between them was greatly embittered. One night short ly afterward General Wallace was standing in a group of officers at the hotel, and near at hand Ord with a mixed party of soldiers and civilians. Some one in the party singled the General out, nnd addressing Ord, asked who that officer was. "Oh, that is Lew Wallace, the man wh tried so hard to lose Shiloli," answered the lieutenant. Scarcely had he finish ed speaking when Ross, who had in advertently heard the remark, stepped briskly forward and struck the com mander's slanderer a stinging slap on the cheek, following it up with a blow which sent the young man sprawling on the floor. "You have (thump) slandered General Wallace in partic ular (thump), and the volunteer sol dier in general," (thump), shouted Ross, "until 1 have (thump) stood all I can of it (thump); and now (thump) I propose to show you (thump) that there is at least one volunteer offi cer (thump) who is more of a man than a regular of equal rank," and bumpety-bump went the young man's head against tho floor. The thump ing process continued until the by standers pulled Ross off and allowed the other to escape. After that there was a greater degree of respect and de ference paid the volunteer arm of the service by at least that portion of the regulars. I w;is an eye-witness to the occurrence, and can testify to the truth of the story. An Unostentatious Ruler. The French.people, it is claimed, are naturally ostentatious. They like parade and display, especially in their rulers. But the president of the re public, M. Grevv, is one of the most modest rulers known to history. He lives in a large house, the Chateau of Montsons Vaudray, which has twenty five guest rooms, to which, however, no strangers are invited. His daughter is married to Mr. Wilson, an Englishman. Their child is the de light of the domestic president of the republic. M. Grevy rises at eight, works until the afternoon, fishes for an hour or two on the banks of the Loire, which is famed for its abundance of the finny tribe. After dinner, he plays billiards and enjoys his family life. At twenty minutes past ten all the lamps in the chateau are extinguished. M. Grevy is not a very brilliant man, but he is a good and solid one, and while he may not be a second Washington, he has many of the good traits of chaiacter which have given such an enviable fame to the first American president.-Demomf. Termo, SIOO Per Year in Advance STBEET SWINDLES. h Jfew Turk Correspondent'* Account of a llnwrry Fnrountrr. Near the Bowery, In Canal street, is No. 102, with a groggery in the base ment, a number of rascals in the grog gery, and a variety of curious wiles in the rascals. This is a kind of head quarters for operators known as street fakirs—prize candy pedlars, three-eard monte men and other petty swindlers. They are usually on vacation while here, having returned from trips to horse races, country fairs and other occasions of concourse. But when their money runs out before their play spell does, they sometimes go to work close by. Thus circumstanced,no doubt,was the low-browed, unshaven, greasy-coated chap who to day opened a black hag on a tripod at the outer edge of the sidewalk in front of 192. He had about two dozen small cubes wrapped in white paper like caramels, lie took several $1 and |2 dollar hills from his pocket, making as rich a display as possible on a meagre capital. "I am going to roll this 'ere f2 note round this 'ere block of wood," he said, suiting his .action to the words, "and there it is, all done up neat', and I holds it atwixt my thumb and lin ger," which he unquestionably did. "Now keep your eyes on it, for I'm go ing to fool you. 1 throws it into the pile of blocks—so—and yer can't tell now which it is. But we could, for he had dropped quite separate from the rest, and sc slowly that there could he no doubt about its identity. Then he asked a bystander—whether a stool-pigeon or not made no difference to the game—to pick out throe of the wrapped blocks. This was done, and, of course, the se lection included the one containing the money. He laid these in a row, and at that jwint changed the prize for a blank by deft "palming." "Now, I'll sell the three for half a dollar," he said, and rattled along with nonsensical argument until a fool made the purchase. The crowd laugh ed at the dupe, when he opened the parcels and found no hank note; and yet it soon, provided other purchasers, and in 15 minutes the rascal had taken in $3. A policeman sauntered by, but did not interfere. A scowling pal, by driving off all the hots, prevented the crowd from reaching undesirable pro portions. The seventh deal was in progress. It was intently watched by a fellow who was fully a foot taller, proportionately broader and incompar ably brawnier than the gambler. His character was unmistakable by any body in the least familiar with New York types. lie was a Bowery slug ger. If not employed to whip or eject disturbers in some concert hall, it was simply because he had temporarily given up business to go out on a spree. His condition was palpably that of an inebriety which, by long duration rather than present intensity, filled him from the tousled hair that stuck through his broken hat to his toes, that threatened a similar escape from his muddy shoes. His trousers pockets were empty, except for his hands, judging by the size of those maulers when he pulled them out, but an exploration of his vest resulted in the discovery of 50 cents. He tender ed the coin and reached for the three cubes that the swindler had tempting ly displayed, hut there was a sudden tendency on the part of that individ ual to reform. "Mind, I don't say there's $2 in this lot," he said in a forced, even ghastly vein of pleasantry; "111 guarantee you that there ain't," and he winked elab orately at the slugger, as much as to say confidentially, between themselves, that of course it was only a sucker that would fool his money away. The slugger was not to be repelled. He had made up his mind to play that game to vrin. lie held his half-dollar for a second aloft, with a gesture that made his biceps distend his coat sleeve significantly, and then made the silver ring among the little packets. "You lie," and here some of his personally descriptive words are not quotable; "there's as 2 rag in one of 'era, and don't you make no mistake. I'm a buying 'em, and the money's right in side." lie waved his big forefinger close under the swindler's nose. "This game is-for greenies," and the wolf-turned-lamb bleated very mildly. "This game's for me—right now— and I'm awaiting," was the uncom promising growl in response; Three for hellef a dollar. Toss 'em over." The swindler parted rather with the two dollars that he had than take the whipping that he did not want. He hastily manipulated the three cubes, and cringingly handed them to the slugger, who controlled his fist with a visible effort on finding nothing in the first that he opened, but he slouched away mollified after taking the requi lite money out of the second. NEWSPAPER LAWS. If rotacribers order the dieconiimfttten ef newspap™-*, the publishers mey rontjnneto send them nntil ell arrearages are pud. If subscribers refuse orneplert to take tneir newspapers from the office to which they are sent, they are held responsible uotil thev have settled the bills and ordered them die continued. , , ... If subscribers move to other places with out informing the publisher, and the news papers are sent to the former place of resi dence, they are then ADVfiRTISINU RATFS: ——" — lwk. i mo. I Jn'w. I m<*. | tljs' i mh.m ai on # 200 f 8 <*m S 100 i I<■ LtSSSB ioo 100 I sOS I 10 m I is a' Beo unm R<*> I<i fi *vi *<!! I coloma.!.!!!!!. 100 12 ' I '*i_ *! *<* ' ! On* taeh make* sqnatr. "Artro;niti*t<r t*- * .ontor*' Notice $2.150. TMnn-.t nd local* 10 emti per tin* for flnrt lnT' j ivi wot* por I tin* for rach adilttv -ul inortio i. NO. 44. Address to a Sea-B!rd. Oh, wfld wave wanderer. Precipice ponderer. Haunter of heaven and searcher of sees. Storm acoroer, thunder-born, Through clouds asunder torn, Thou not lor wondet born. Heedless of horror, with sickle-like eaae Cutteet thy silent swarth, Fierce, unafraid. When the fierce quivering lightnlng-ating, shivering, Darts to the dark earth The snake ol its blade. Polar snows snow on thee, Tropic winds blow on thee, Tempest and terror are stung with delight; Ocean's broad billows To tbee are tby pillows, Vast hollowed heaven thy chamber at night, Sunrise and moonrue and wildering wa ters, M idnight's pale shadows, the cloud's sil ver daughters, All gnjte upon thco a id envy thy flight; Freedom itself in its perilous hight, Cries He is mine in his mien and his might ! —Blackwood t Magazine. HUMOROUS. The net that is most popular with blonde youth—brunette. Long courtships are to be avoided — especially when they last until three o'clock in the morning. A noted physician says that nearly all women have smaller chests and trunks than they ought. Baggagemen don't think so. When a young man escorts his girl home after evening service, he finds that the longest way round is near enough for hiin. "No trouble to have my ears bored," remarked the young lady with diamond pendants. "I have it done at every party 1 attend." "The difference," mused Twistem, "between a necessary adjunct of the kitchen and a fat party going up a ladder is simply this: One's a muffin pan, the other's a puffin' man. Little Nellie, six years old, who has been at school two weeks: "Mamma, I am next to the head of my class!" Mamma: "How many scholars are there in the class, Nellie?" Nellie —"Two, mamma!" The young lady who considers it sn endless piece of labor to sew on a BUS* pender button, goes into ecstacies of delight over, and thinks nothing of making a quilt containing about four thousand pieces of silk. "Can you give me a bite or two?" asked the tramp. "Certainly," replied the farmer. "Here, Towser, Towser!'* "Never mind," said the tramp as he cleared the wall; "don't go to any trouble about it. I thought you had it handy. I'm not vary hungry now anyhow." Out in Manitoba a couple of leading citizens had a race on foot about which there was considerable betting and excitement. The local paper in its heading, "A Foot Race," got in an "1" instead of a "t" This did not suit the competitors to a "t." Such ar insinuation was not "l"-egant. A Strange Hallucination Cored. Malebranche, a celebrated philoso pher of the seventeenth century, was for a long time the victim of a singular notion. The London Journal says ho fancied that he had an enormous leg of mutton attached to the end of his nose. A friend would shake hands with him and inquire, "How is M. Malebranche to-day?" "Pretty well, on the whole; but this horrid leg of mutton is getting quite unbearable by its weight aud its smell." "What! This leg of mutton ?" "Yes. Can't you see it hanging there in front?" If the friend burst into a laugh, or ventured to deny the existence of the strange phenomenon, Male branche would get angry. At length n colleague of his, a man gifted with a sense of the humorous, determined to cure him by some means or other. Calling upon him one day he affected to perceive the cause of his trouble And inquired about it. The imaginary patient, overcome with gratitude, ran to embrace this first believer, who. stepping backwards, uttered a cry, "What! Have I hurt you, my friend ?" "Certainly; you have run your leg of mutton into my eye. I really cannot understand why you have not tried to get rid of that awkward appendage long since. If you will allow me with a razor —an operation performed with out the slightest danger" "My friend, my friend, you will have saved my life! Oh! Ah! Oh!" In the twinkling of an eye the friend had slightly grazed the tip of his nose, and producing from under his coat a splen. did leg of mutton, he flourished it triumphantly in the air. "Ah," ex claimed Malebranche, "I live, I breathe! My nose is free, my head is free! But —but—it was a raw one and this one is cooked!" "Why, of course; you have been sitting for an hour close to the fire!" Ffona this time Malebranche ceased to be 1 uunttd by his leg of mutton.