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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.