The Millheim Jounal, PUBLISHED EVERY THUKBDA BY HI. BtQf JLL©}. Office in the New Journal RiiMtnjr, Penu St., near Hart man's fomdrv. PER ANNUM, IN ADVANCE, fl.ae IK NOT PAID IN advance km K correspondence Solicited Address lotto* ~— 2. MILLHEIM JOURNAL. fl. HART Kit, ' Auctioneer, MILLHF.IM, V "J" B. STOVER, Auctioneer, Madlsonbuig, Pa. "YY H.REIFSNY DKR, Auctioneer, MILLNKIM, PA. DR. J. W. STAU, Physician & Surgeon Office on Main Street. MILLHEIM, PA. 13 R john f UTER ' Practical Dentist, Office opposite the Methodist Church. MAIN STREET, MILLIIEIM PA. GEO. L. LEE, Physician & Surgeon, MADISONBURG, I>A. Office opposite the Public School nouse. P. ARD, M. D.. WOODW ARD, PA DEIXIXGERj Solary-Public, Journal office, Penn st., Millheim, Pa. W*Deeds and other legal papers written aud acknowledged at moderate charges. W: J. SPRINGER, Fashionable Barber, Havinq had many years 1 of experiencee the public can expect the best work and most modern accommodations. Shop 2 doors uest Millheim B inking House MAIN STREET, MILLHEIM, PA. Q_EOKGE L. SPIi!NGER~ Fashionable Barber, Corner Main & North streets, 2nd floor, Millheitn, Pa. Shaving, Haircutting, Sbamponning, Dying, &c. done in the most satisfac tory mauner. Jno.H. Orvls. C. M. Bower. Ellis L.Orvis QRVIS, BOWER & ORVIS, Attorneys-at-Law, BELLEFONTE, PA., Office In Woodings Building: D.H.Hastings. W. F. Reeder. j~JASIISGS4 REEDER, Attorneis-at-Law, BELLEFONTE, PA. Office on Allegheny Street, two doors east of the office ocupied by the late flrin of Yocum A Hastings. J" C. METER, AUorney-at-Law, BELLEFONTE, PA. At the Office of Ex-Judge Hoy. M C. HEINLE, Attorney-at-Law BELLEFONTE, PA. Practices in all the courts of -Centre county Special attention to Collections. Consultations in German or English. . A. Beaver. J. W. Gephart. Attorneys-at-Law, BELLEFONTE, PA. Office on Alleghany Street. North of High Street JgROUKERHOFF HOUSE, ALLEGHENY ST., BELLEFONTE, PA. O. G. McMILLEN, PROPRIETOR. Good Sample Room on First Floor. Free 1 Buss to and from all trains. Special rates to witnesses and Jurors QUMMINS HOUSE, BISHOP STREET, BELLEFONTE, PA., EMANUEL BROWN, PROPRIETOR House newly refitted and refurnished. Ev erything done to make guests comfortable. ' Ratesinodera** tronage respectfully solici ted 5-1 y HOUSE, i (Most Central Hotel in the city.) , CORNER OF MAIN AND JAY STREETS LOCK HAVEN, PA. S.WOODS CALDWELL PROPRIETOR. 1 Good sameple rooms for commercial Travel erajon first floor. ' R. A. BUMILLER, Editor VOL. GO. DO XOTRLAMK HER. Mark saw itbefoie 1 did. 1 have wondered to-day, looking hick, if I could have controlled myself sutlicient ly to prepare him for the shock,if I had read the newspaper llrst this morning, h was passing Mar ,'s cup of coffee to sign the waiter-girl, when I caught iigid\hls face. It was white and his eyes AO" eyer be in his coffin, ami to see. dil ited in a stare horrible •Mark!' I cr. dear. Are you ift terror, 'what is it, I was beside him ♦, that his eyes were tlxeU'eke, and saw place in the paper lie InuWi a certain Then I, too, read the fatal feuding, only a few lines, but full of hoYaph, Mark. \>r 'Do not blame her !' he said in whisper, shuddering as he spoke. 'Ol Bessie ! Bessie ! My heart i* broken I put my arms around him and drew his head down upon my breast, where il had so often lain in childhood, when my orphaned brother came to sister Bessie to be comforted in boyish woes. He was my only brother, though I was sixteen years the elder. Little graves in the cerueiery marked the sorrows of my childhood, as one after another my brothers aud sisters had dropped and died, until only Mark was left. And he was but four years old when our parents both died. We were uot poor, owing to our own handsome home, and a comfortable in- come; so Mark had every advantage of education, studied law, ar.d gradually won bis way to a position in bis profes sion. And I had married,lost my hus band, and returned, after an absence of only three short months, to resume my place as ray brother's housekeeper, only my widow's dress to tell strangers I had ever been away. It was just after Mark bad finished his studies and been admitted to the bar that he bad met Alice Arnold. She had come to Claymont to visit her aunt,a near neighbor and old friend of ours, and we called to welcome her amongst us. She was about eighteen years old then, and her beauty won its way to my heart as surely as it did to Mark's. She was the most timid, gentle creat ure I ever saw, her color flitting if you spoke to her, her shy blue eyes droop lng.and her voice low and almost plain- tiye in its timidity. Miss Arnold, a strong, energetic old maid, seemed t > actually terrify lrr by her short, biisque manner, but she clung to me from tire first hour of our friendship. Children generally like me, and she was little more than a child. Yet, when ste became more intimate, and came often to pass whole days with me, I found that below the frightened, timid manner there was a clear brain, an intellect that had been carefully cul tivated and a sweet womanly nature. She was an enthusiastic musician and a fine pianist, but sould not sing. Nothing delighted her more than to play for Mark and myself to sing duets, or if I was tired or busy, to hear Mark sing in hi 3 rich baritone voice the mu sic he loyed. I asked myself, after she had ended her summer visit,if she wa3 a coquette, a cruel, heartless flirt, who would win a man's heart only to cast it aside. And, in my bitterness then, I thought she was. In later years I acquitted her of the crime. I believe she had no suspicion that Mark loved her. He wis a'ways grave and reserved, and, although he was but twenty-three at that time, had the air and bearing of a much older man. And I being really so much her senior,l think Alice looked upon us both as rather elderly peopie, and was far more free and con fidential than she would have been if she had looked upon Mark as a young man and lover. But Mark, who had never cared be fore for any of our girl-friends, gave to A lice Arnold all the story of love his heart could ever offer. I knew it, for Mark had made me his confidential friend all tiis life, and see ing her shy pleasure in his presence,the interest she look in a'l tiis pursuits, her gentle acceptance of his grave atten tions, I thought his love was returned, and I was hippy in the expectation of a nearer, closer tie between the sweet, loving girl and myself. But just before she left Claymont, Mark, telling her his love, was answer ed by the tidings that she was engaged to be married. She was dreadfully distressed, com ing to me to sob out her regret that Mark loved her. but loyally assorting her own love for her betrothed. After she left us Mi 33 Arnold took me into confidence. She told me that her piece was an heiress, and her mother was a fool. I am quoting Miss Arnold. She said that Henry Parker, the man who had MILLIIEIM, PA., THURSDAY, APRIL 1., IBBG. wo i Alice's childish love, was a sliowv, handsome fellow, dt whom the family knew not sin j: . but who was distrusted by all of them except Hi" mother, wli • should have heen the uiil's protector, hut who was complett |) fascinated by the lover's attentions t herself. Mark siid hut little to me, hut I know that he suffered keenly, lie made some enquiries in the city about Henry Darker and was convinced that he was an adventuier. I think inv brother c mid have borne his own burden h'tter if Alice had chcseu a man worthy *>f her love, hut lie feared for her future happiness, thinking her hetr ithed had dazzled her imagination rather than'won her heart. When we received cuds for the wed ding I thought of refusing to attend, l ut Mark decided to go, and we sent pur wedding-gift, and went up to the ' jhV to ho :it thecemuony in the church lire dress reception afteruaids ry Pari not wonder when I saw Ilen lle was'bat he liad won Alice's love, the winuirthly hands nue, and hid change her ttV 4l,ner calculated to loye. ! y into a trusting And Ire took the k to betray both, to charted the trust shuddering horror,the tru'i 6 Lye to a ing fear. a shrink- Little by little the poor gin to the fact that her husband des|L eil the very gentleness he had so ofte. praised, and that the charm of a full purse was the one that had attracted him to his wife. Probably a father or a guardian would have protected Alice's fortune after marriage, but it was under her own control, her mother being her only guardian. And Henry Parker spent it freely; at first in a profuse style of living, in lux uries Iris wife could share, but later in gambling and low vice, traveling the downward path with fearful rapidity. \ Piirs uiiii i lit? serted his wife, who returned to her mother,and a year later the newspapers gave the account of his death In a bar room, where he was shot in a scuffle. It was after a year of widowhood that Alice crme once more to Cbir mont, her sweet face pale and sad, and her blue eyes often dreamily mournful. She was but little changed, though older and graver than in her girlhood for her timidity w is, if changed at all, only increased by the trials of Irei mar ried life. She was so nervous that an unexpected sound m ulft her start in P"si:ive tenor, and where the pretty flitting col >r had been in her cheeks there was only an added pallor when she was startled. The free country life, the pure air and quiet, seemed to help her in regain ing something of her cheerfulness, and Miss Arnold astonished us all by her tenderness. She treated her niece like a sick baby anticipating her wants, coaxing her ap pelite.and bringing Inr curt sentences, thaLwere usually like pistol-shots,down to tones of ooing gentleness. 'The poor darling I' she s rid to me, with tears in her hard eyes. 'How could anyone have the heart to say a rough word to her ? I could as soon strike an infant as trouble her, the pretty dove !' But what was the best medicine for Alic6 was soon apparent to me. She had leained to value sucn love as Mark's and she understood at list what his attentions meant. For seven years he had kept her im age in Iris heart, and when once more he could honorably woo her he made no secret of his devotion. She brightened visibly, the shy, blue eyes looking more frankly into Mark's than they had ever done, the sweet musical voice losing its quiver when she spoke to him. Very gladly did I hear that myffrroth er had wo-, the heart he coveted, and very sure was I that it was all his own, with a far truer, more womanly love than Alice had given in her girlish in fatuation to Ilenry Parker. And r,wlro knew Mark so well.knew that each year would hut add to his af fection, and that Alice need never know again what it was to fear her husband. The long, bright summer passed hap pily, and in September Alice was to re turn to her mother to prepare for a quiet wedding and an extended tour. It was the evening before she was to leave us that Miss Arnold invited Mark and myself to :ea. We were all in the parlor, early in the evening, when a gentleman asked for Mrs. Parker, and Alice turned very white as she intro duced Mr. Geoige Parker. 'My husband's brother,' she said a side to me. 'He was always very kind to me.' For a few momenta after thin intro duction Mr. Parker sat in embarrassed silence. Then he said very suddenly : 'I d ) not know whether tny news will be good news or bad news to you, Alice, I came to tell you, U3 soon as A PAPER Foil Vl IK HOME CIRCLE possible nftor ihui iug It rnytelf, that 11 in y is riot d ad.' A'iee did nit faint or scumi. White is death, shes lid, steidily : 'Why did ho 0 micml it from me V 'Ho did not, into itianally, lie was loft 1 >r (Vol and so reported, utter the trouble in St. Louis, hut 116 was only (to: rihly wounded. Somebody took him to a hospital, hut ho g''t belter in other ways, the d 3tors found liis brain was weakened. He was seat to an in sane asylum,and it was on It two weeks ago that he recovered hiss.inily enough to send for me. I went to him at once and brought him to my house. He asks for you every hour, bat I ought to warn you that lie is stiß very queer. The doctors say he is harmless, and as lm wanted very niuc'i to (oine to me I took him out. I should not have left him in a pauper asylum any time, but I Very much fear he will have to go to a private insane hospital before long, lie is strong and well and may liye for years. 'Yes. I shall go to my mother's to rn mow,' Alice said. Will you bring him to me ?' There seemed no qu 'stion of her du ty in her pure heart, but the hopeless misery of. her fair face was heart-break ing to witness. Mr. Parker left in an early return train to the city, and Miss Arnold took me to her own room to look at some lace. 'Let them be alone,' she said to me. jjis for tire last time. I know Alice, there t ' lo drinking, gentle manner , a strong martyr spirit, and she pool . chiu1 ". To-day we read in the city papers this para graph : ''Mrs. Ilenry Parker,residing at 232, street,was found dead in her room I fioin tin **'etsof an overdose of chlor nl. The dose W. nrOUa:,i . , • j t i * , f , v takoii uc ; cidentally, as Mrs. P.rke ! suffering from insomnia, and using ' chloral to produce sleep."- Mark is locked iti bis room, and even I dare not intrude upon Mm,or ask the question that haunts tue. Was the overdose taken by accident, or in a mom :u of utter despair ? TELL YOUR WIFE. The following advice from a corres pondent of the Country Gentleman is well worthy of acceptance, but wo would add a little more to it in the form of a suggestion, that in case you are a farmer and have no wife—Get "If you are in any trouble or quan dary, tell your wife—that is if von have one—all about it at once. Ten to one her invention will solve your difficulty sooner tlan all your logic. The wit of woman has been raised, but her instincts are quicker and keen er than her reason. Counsel with your wife, your mother,or your sister, and be assured light will flash upon your darkness. Women are too com monly adjudged verdant in all but purely womanish affairs. No philo sophical students of the sex thus judg ed them. Their intuitions, or in sights, are the most subtle, and if they cannot see a cat in the meal, there is 110 cat there. I advise a man to keep none of his affairs a secret from his wife. Many a home has been happi ly saved, and many a fortune retriev ed. by a man's full confidence in his wife. Woman is far more a seer and prophet than man, if she is given a fair chance. As a general rule, wives confide the minutest of their plans and thoughts to their husbands. Why not reciprocate, if but for the pleasure of meeting confidence with confidence? I am certain no man succeeds so well in the world as he \vho # taking a partner for life makes her the partner of his purposes and hopes. What is wrong of his im pulse or judgement, she will check and set right with her almost univer sally right instincts. And what she most craves and most deserves is con fidence, without which love is never free from a shadow." A LADY of charitable disposition asked a tramp if she could not assist him by mending bis clothes. "Yes, madam," lie said, "[ have a button, and if you will sew a shirt on it I will be greatly obliged." —SUBSCRIBE for the JOURNAL. TUB OLDEST MAN. AN EX SLAVE NEAR DE TROIT uCAIMS THAT DISTINCTION. Ho is Said to ba 127 Years Old and Remembars tha Revo lutionary War When old' Dad" Freeman was bur ied across t ie river in Windsor a short time ago, says a Detroit (Mich.) letter to the New York ll< raid , it was believ ed that the oldest man in the world had heen laid to rest. "Dad" was 122 years ol I, as conclusively proved before his death, and left 13S descendants. Since Freeman was buried some relic hunters have brought forward a man whose authentic record fixes his age at the remarkable figure of 127 years. The proof furnished leaves no room for doubt. The name of this man is An drew Lucas. He is the father of Mr. P. A.Lucas, who for nine years past has kept a barber shop in Detroit. Mr. Lucas was horn a slave under the fath er of Genera' Jackson, he of "eternal" fame, and was a grown man when the General succeeded to the paternal es tate. lie remembers the Revolutiona ry War distinctly and recalls many very interesting incidents of the second war between this country and Great Britain. He declares that it is as dis tinct to him as yesterday when General Jackson went to New Orleans during that very memorable struggle, when he accompanied the General as his body servant, lie describes the cotton bales piled up as a temporary fortification. Soon after this, at a time when the General was away, Lucas was whipped for some reason and ran away. He re members very well why lie was whipp ed, but does not give the reason. He worked Iris way slowly north and cross ed into Canada at Black Rock, on tire Niagara River. Andrew Kirby, then customs collector at Fort Erie, shelter ed liiur and helped him across into the K.tttg'a Uuiuaiu. iuuuJ cuiplaj' merit in the family of General Brook, who was killed in ttie War of 1812 at tjueenstown Heights. Ntxt he ran on the Niagara River, under Captain John Clinch, for whom he worked nine years, and was then discharged by bis em ployer because the latter considered I "■ •- .1 I t() P,, useful. Lucas was then sixty-two yea.w ~ Lucas soon found employment ~rr X j n this time at Kingston, Out., where lie married his second wife. His slave wife had borne him seven children. His second and free wife had borne him seventeen. One daughter by this union is now living at East Saginaw, Mich. Her name is Mrs. Williams, and she is seventy-one years old. Fif ty years ago Lucas removed to Brarrt ford, Out. There he got work from lire father of Judge Stevenson, of Cay uga. The Judge, though now an old man himself, remembers Lucas as a man about seventy years old when be, as a boy. was going to school. For twenty-nine years Lucas was a driver for the express company at Bruntford and resigned the place ten years ujo for the reason that lie was getting along in years and felt the need of rest. He has the frame of a once powerful man and stands six feet three inches in his stockings. A year ago lie sawed and split twenty-five cords of wood for William E. Walling, of Brant ford. Up to three years ago he never wore spectacles, and during the sum mer of ISS3, when visiting his son in Detroit, Mr. Lucas read the City Ilall clock from in front of tiro Kirkwood House, across the Campus Martius. He then walked without the assistance of a cane, being 124 years old ! This is a most remarkable case of longevity. Lucas is certainly as old us stated, and from his appearance to-day promises to hang on for some time to come. This man is probably the old est person living. lie has witnessed the development of the most wonderful era in the world's history, and has per sonal lecolleclion of all the many great events in the career of this nation. 'llow many times must I tell you,' remarked the managing editor of a Chicago paper as lie slowly filled up the waste basket with the funny man's 'copy,' 'not to use the word 'para graphia ?' There is no such word in the language. 'Paragraphist is the proper term.' ' 'Paragraphed is the better word,' warmly contended the fuuny uian. 'That doesen't make any difference; it's not in the dictionarj. You don't place yourself above Webster, do you ?' 'ln many tilings I do not,' frankly acknowledged the Western humorist; 'but I know more about writing para graphs in a minute than Daniel Web ster ever knew in his whole course of senatorial career. lie can call it what lie clioses. I call it p iragrapher, and if this isn't satisfactory to tiie alleged managing editor of this journal, I will throw up my posi ion if I have to go somewhere and work for a living.' This so alarmed the managing editor that he remarked a mother-in-law joke of the Elizabethaiu era to be double leaded. Terms, SIOO per Year, in Advance. ONE SORT O' IIO r J3EKEIPIN\ It's raenny a long year now gone by seiice me and Sarah A nil commenced linuseke.-phi'. We've allera lived right here where we do tnis day, and I guess we'll contiunei to slay here under tlie old roof until some day when one or t'other of us'll hev to go, and the old church hell 'll toll and the ''narrow heus " tho poets tell about will open its door,and one or t'other uv us 'll hev to go in, and tho door it'll lie closed, and we'll go to our long time rest. Mebbo it won't be so veiy long apart we'll go, 'cause did you over notice, how the old folks who hev lived and loved together for menuy a year, go a way sometimes almost together—even the Dark River don't separate 'eua long, they loved each other so. And now friends, do you want ter know why 1 begun this letter so, and why Sarah Ann and me hev allers got on so well together ? Well, it won't take long ter tell. It's because we've both of us hed a little kominon-sense (if 1 do sty it), and Sir ill Ann hev us ed her's iu housekeephi', and I've tried to use mine in providin* th'ngs as kora fortable-like es I could and 'lowin' her to do the housekei piu' part herself 'bout es she wanted ter. I've lived long enough to diskiver sjrae things, and one is that there's two kinds of housekeeping-sensible and foolish. The sensible kind hes things neat, and orderly and plcasaut about the house, jist as a matter of course. It don't take enny frettiu' an' foam in' to hev it so—it sort o' has it self tliet way. And the foolish kind is where the woman goes about the bouse with a double-barreled microscope, as it was, lookin' fur the least appearance of dirt,and witli a dust-rag in one haud and a dust broom in the other she goes around makiu' herself and everybody else miserable. She meets the children when they come from school, with a smile? Not much—if it's muddy, or dusty or even sunny ! "l>ou'i you come in here with those muddy feet onto my clean carpets," is the first thing said, even if they come into the | most back door in the houe and the clean carpet is nuthin' but an old rag heim-loom full of holes and greasy. Such a woman never goes nowhere, never has enny lime. The stove wants blackin', the knives want scourin,' the ciiaujVn.ro wants sweepin', the cellar wants cleanin' the winders wants wasbiu' or the inopb mrds wants scrub bin'. She can't leaye the dish-cloth and the dust-rag long enough to go to missionary meetiir, and es fur enny charitable or neighborly wbrk she does outside—it don't amount to a thimble ful,don't get time. She's a housekeep in'slave bound down with dish rags and dusters till she can't move, aud she's so nice and neat she makes enny ordinary person fesl like a miserable slattern if she cills 011 her and siis down for just a five minutes' cocyersa tion. Of course I believe in heviu' things neat aud nice, but not over neat and over-nice. I believe in noslovenly sort o' housekeepiu', but I don't bleeve in woman's makiu' a .eternal drudge of herself. What sort of earthly good dus it do ? Ain't there notbin' higher in Jivin' than keepin' the dust off of things ? Ain't there enny duties that a womam owes to her family, and to society, too, that she should attend to, or should she narrow down her mind to the scrubbin' of the four walls sur rouudin her ? It don't take long for a sensible, kommon-sense woman to an swer these questions. But there's menny a woman who'd read these lines that's doin'the very tiling I'm object in'against, and because she's doin' it is why I write, hopin' that this year will see a change in her method of housekeepiu'. I've read this over to Sarah Ann, Mr. Editor, and she agrees with me-prob ably largely becahse she knows, a3 i do, that her housekeepin' is of the sen sible kind. UNCLE IIEZEKIAII. A (Jlevel and speculator sent his son to Wisconsin to buy hops, telling him to keep his eyes open for any other speculation. Alter a few days a dis patch came, saying: "A widow has got a corner on the hop market of this State. Shall I marry her ?" "Certain ly," was the reply sent over the wires. Twelve houis later the son aunouncjd : "(iot the hops, the widow, and seven step-children, and shall go to Chicago to-morrow to see about a diyorce." "What are you watting for, little boy ?" inquired a kindly old geutleman of a street urchin who was watching each passer-by intently. 'Waitiu' for a long-whiskered gent smokiu' a cigar. Then I'll fuller him an' get the stub." "Do long-whiskered men smoke better cigars V" "Naw, but dey dou't smoke 'em so short." A Brookiin woman is keeping in a book a list of thiugs she ought to pur chase, but cauuot afford to wear. She calls the book her ought-to-buy ogra- Pby. NO. 13 NKWSI'APtH T.AW If Hutocilhcrti order the discontinuation ol newspapers, the punlislterx may eontinne to sand lliein until all am'nr*pe> are paid. If subuerlbofs roftic or uejileet to tae uictr newspapers from tin* yffl*e to w hi eh I key are sent Met are lieli responsHdentdil they have settled Um'ldllH ai.d ordered them dlseoottnr.ert. If subscribers move loot her places v\ it cunt In forming the puldislu r, mid the newspHpers are sent to t lie former place, I hey are responsible. I 1 !.. 1 ADVBRTUHNQ RATBB. 1 wk. 1 mo. | 3 mo*. 6 mns. I yea 1 aqua re i-uu ♦ 4 <** | $6 00 ♦dim IBW W column 400 f> 001 10 on 15 W> IMOO £ •• 700 10 001 lAOO 30 00 40 00 f * 10 (Mr If. 001 2T 00 4.*>(*> (*>oo One Inch make* a *<|tum*. AilurinislrnSor* and Executors' Notices *1.50. Transient adver tisements and locals lOoents per line fr first Insertion and 6 cents par line tor each adUltlon ul insertion Tho Man With a Mission. "Am Pickles Sin it I: in tie hall to night V' anxious'y inquired the presi dent as the notes of the tritmgte died away. " Yes, sah," was the prompt response. '•You will please step forward ; I hey a few words to say to you. "Brudder Smith, it am couae to my knowledge dat you believe you Uas a mission on airth. You believe it aoi your solemn dooty to be on land fit eb ery funeral in your uayburhood, wheth er friends or strangers, an' offer your sarvices an' consolashun. You stand ready to knock off work in tie day time, an' to rout out of bed at night, an'it seems a long week to you when some body isn't on his dyin' bed or on de tnovc to'rds de graveyard. "Brudder Smith, you am one of our oldest an' best members, an' I doan' want to hurt yer feelin's. Since you took up dat raishur. your woodpile has run short, your rent gone behind, an' your fam'ly looks run down. If I were you I'd drap it. I'd bring myself to believe dat ds mishun of a mar'd man was to take good keer of. bis fam'ly a,nd lay by a few dollars fur a rainy day. Pull de stockin's off de feet of a woman wid a mission an' you'll find holes in de heels. Go into de home of a man wid a mishun an' you'll find a sufferin' wife, half-fed children an' a hat full of dunniu' letters. Brudder Smith, you may return to your seat Lime-Kiln Club. A Capricious Composer. If the stories told of him are true, Hans Von Bulow is getting crankier day by day. It is related that during his last concert tour, as he was about to take his seat at the piano, he saw some very plain woman seated near the platform. At that he walked off the stage, and to his manager's inquiries and entreaties said : "Until those ugly women are remov ed I will not play a note; so you may do as you please about it." The manager stepped up on the stage, announced that flerr Von Bulow had become suddenly indisposed, and the orchestra would play a symphony which was to have been played later in the eveuing. While the audience look ed on in wonder he had a number of palms and shrubs from the conserva tory near the concert room placed be tween he platform and the audience. Then calling Bulow to the wing the manager asked if the view suited him. 4t oh, yes, that's all right," quietly said the great musician, 4 bus long as I don't behold those monsters of ugliness I am quite indiffereut to my surroundings." And without auy more ado, the capri cious composer weut on the platform and performed his share of the pro gramme.— Ntxc York Sun. No Help Wanted. A young man who said he had left the farm to strike a job in the city, and who added that if he could only secure a place somewhere he felt cer tain of laying the foundations of a fortune, importuned a business house on Jefferson avenue until the chief clerk finally played a joke to get rid of him. He gave him the street and number of the County Jail and ad vised him to call and ask for the place oi the last man sent to Jackson. Half an hour later the young man pulled the sheriff's bell and said to that official: "I am in search of a situation. I am twenty-two years old, never sick a and *' "I have nothing for you," replied the sheriff. "I'll work mighty cheap. I can bring you twenty testimonials that I don't swear, drink, chew or gamble. If you'll *' "Sorry, but I have no vacancies." "Didn't a man leave here for Jack son a few days ago ?" asked the young man. "Oh, yes—half & dozen of them." "Then give me one of their places. I 'll work the first month for my board and clothes." "They didn't even get that much,*' said the sheriff, as he began to tumble to the racket. "Well, I've got to make a begin ning, and I'll furnish my own clothes." "I should like to aid you, but real ly I have no vacancies at present.*' "Oh, come, now—give me a show." "Can't do it.'' "Can't; eh-! All right for you. I'll find one somewhere, and don't you forget it, and the day'll come when I'll make you powerful sorry that you gave me the cold shoulder on a cold day !''— Detroit Free Press. —First-class job work done at the JOURNAL office.