The Millkeim Journal, PUBLTSfIEI) EVERY THURSDAY BY I\. K. BU^TIiLE^. Office in the New .Journal Building, Peun St.,near Hartnian's foundry. SI.OO PER ANNUM, IN ADVANCE, OR $1.26 IF NOT PA|D IN ADVANCE. Aceestable Correspondence Solicited Address letters to MILLHEIM JOURNAL. B USTJVB S S D HARTER, Auctioneer, MILLHKIM, PA. B. STOVER, " Auctioneer, Madisonburg, Pa. •yyr II.REIFSNYDKR. Auctioneer, MILLIIEIM, PA. JYT. J. W. ST AM, - Physician & Surgeon Office on i'enu Street. MILLIIEIM, PA. JQR. JOHN F. H ARTELL, Practical Dentist, Office opposite Ithe Methodist Church. MAIN STREET, MILLIIEIM PA. GEO. L. LEE, Physician & Surgeon, MADISONBURG, PA. Office opposite the Public School House. p. ARD, M. D., WOODWARD, PA O. DEININGEK, Notary-Public, Journal office, Penn st., Millheim, Pa. AS"Deeds and other legal papers written and acknowledged at moderate charges. TjTT J- SPRINGER, Fashionable Barber, Havinq had many years 1 of experiencee the public can expect the best work and most modern accommodations. Shop opposite Millheim Banking House MAIN STREET, MILLHEIM, PA. L. SPRINGER, Fashionable Barber, Corner Main & North streets, 2nd floor, Millheim, Pa. Shaving, Haircutting, Sharapooning, Dying, &c. done in the most satisfac tory manner. Jno.H. Orris. C. M. Bower. Ellis L.Orvis QRVIS, BOWER & OR VIS, AUorneys-al-Law. BELLEFONTE, PA., Office In Woodings Building. D. H. Hastings. W. F. Reeder. JJASTIN6S & REEDER, Attorney s-at-Law, BELLEFONTE, PA. Office on Allegheny Street, two doors east of the office ocupiod by the late firm of Yocum & Hastings. J C. MEYER, AMorney-at-Law, BELLEFONTE PA. At the Office of Ex-Judge Hov. C. HEINLE, Attorney-at-law BELLEFONTE, PA. Practices in all the courts of Centre county Special attention to Collections. Consultations i n German or English. % J A.Beaver. J.W.Gephart. JgEAVER & GEPHART, Attorneys-at-Law, BELLEFONTE, PA. Office on Alleghany Street. North of High Street JGROCKERHOFF HOUSE, ALLEGHENY ST., BELLEFONTE, PA. C. G. McMILLEN, PROPRIETOR. Good Sample Room on First Floor. Free 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. Ratesiuodera'" trouage respectfully solici ted 5-h ■JRVIN HOUSE, (MostCeutral Hotel in tbe city.) CORNER OF MAIN AND JAY STREETS LOCK HAVEN, PA. S.WOODS"CALDWELL PROPRIETOR. Good sameple rooms for commercial Travel ers.on first floor. R A. BUMILLER, Editor. VOL. 00. 81 [OUT OF C.VSII. [Luke Sharp in Detroit Free Press.] Pnilip Gilbert 11 immortot. says : 'Let me observe, to begin with, that although the puisuit of wealth is not favoralilo to the i tolled ml life, the nnconvenienc.es of poverty are ev\ n less favorable to it ' Let mc obsarve to liegin with, right you aie P. G.; light you are. One Sunday in Lmdon, it sliuck me that it wouldn't be a bad idea to go down to the office on the Strand and finish up some c.oi respondence that was long oyer due. I would be assisted by the quiet and freedom from interrup tion that I was certain of on that day, so about 11 o'clock I went to the I lam mersmith railway station and found it closed. The London railways are in the habit of closingdown during church time, although they run enough trains the rest of the day to make up for this spasm of Sunday observance. I bad forgotten this freak on the part of the railway people, and so took a 'bus in stead. If that railway station had been open ed this would not have been written, for the price of a return ticket was more than the amount I had in my pocket. I would have remembered that I had left my purse in the pocket I wore on week days, and would have gone back for it. Now, a seat beside the driver on a Hammersmith 'bus o.i a fine morning is something not to be despised. You go along through Kensington and past Hyde Park and into Piccadilly, and so to Charing Cross and the city. It is a bout as interesting an hour's ride as you can wish to have. 'Where for, sir ¥' •Charing Cross.' 'Sixpence, please.' 'Sixpence it is,' and I dived down in to my pocket and up came the nimble sixpence. That reticent coin,however, never told me that all that it left there was just two pennies ana one half-Den ny. After.the silver piece had passed into the hands of the 'bus conductor we rolled merrily along and I had no idea that I would soon be called to face the pangs of direst poverty. I wrote away io the office until the bells tolled 2, and feeling the necessity for a square meal, I went into a cafe that was generally crowded on week days,but was almost empty on Sunday. I don't know why I ordered such a sumptuous dinner— probably because I felt a certain satisfaction at having c --complished some work that should have been done long before —but, be that as it may—l ordered a "blow-tlie expense" dinner, aud only felt sorry I had no genial friend with me to share it. When the waiter brought me the bill I glanced at it and put my h'and down the trouser pocket, on the right. Net result, 2£p. 1 searched all my pockets in the vain hope that they might yield the unexpected cash that a careless man leaves around his clothes. Net result—same old tuppence ha'penny. 'Waiter,would you have the kindness to ask the proprietor to step this way?' 'Proprietor, sir V Yes sir, certainly, sir. Nothing wrong I 'ope, sir ?' 'Nothing whatever. Merely wish to express my gratification.' The proprietor came up smiling and rubbing his hands one over the other. Now I puticulaily distrust a man who smiles and rubs his hands, and I said to myself 'l'm going to have trouble with this man.' 'Good alternoon. I wanted to say to you that rarely have I enjoyed a dinner as well as the one I have just finished.' 'I am very glad you are satisfied, sir. We try to please our customers, sir. Hope you will come again, sir.' 'As things look at present I rather think I'll hare to. But what I wanted to see you particularly for was—l hope I'm not detaining you too long ?' 'Oh, not at all, sir—not ac all. Sun day's a yery light day with us, sir.' 'Then that's all right. WeM, as I was saying, I thought I'd try a chest nut on you if you had the time.' 'A chestnut, sir ?' 'Yes,in Ameiici we call an old story or an old joke a chestnut. Whenever an enemy gets off what he thinks is a good joke, we simply remark 'chestnut,' and that crushes him.' 'Ah, I see sir ; very good sit.* 'Well, this chestnut you've perhaps heard before. Everybody lias in Amer ica. A fellow put up at a first-class hotel, ordered a fine dinner and the best of wine. Having dined exceeding ly well he called for tin landlord. 'Landlord,'he said, 'I suppose lots of dead beats come to your house ?' 'Well, a few.' 'What do you d) when a man Iras no money—is a deat beat, in fact V 'Do ¥ Why I k'ck him out.' 'At this the guest rose, went to the door, and looking over his shoulder at the landlord, said : 'Kick.' MILLIIEIM, PA., THURSDAY, JUNE 10., 1880. 'lt was a few moments befoie the landlord eom|ueheiuled that the fellow had no money, hut when the fact, was clear he vig kicked him into the middle f the street.' 'Very good,' ciirdthe isfeproptic tor. 'Very irood i: deed. I never beard thiil stoiy before.' •t)., that's not all the story, month.* after the folio .v appeared at the s.iiiu hotel.' 'D-m't you remember kicking me out V'tie said to the lan Hud. 'Well, that's all right. 1 don't bear any giudge. Made SIOO,O X) since then. Come,yon shall dine with me this time. I dined at your expense last time.' 'So they hud a grand dinner nud the best champagne in Iho house The landlord apologized several times for his lormer rudeness, but the trayeler insisted he did just right—would have done the same himself under the cir cumstances. Finally, as the last bottle was drained, he said to the landlord : 'Hope you enjoyed your dinner.' 'Oh, immensely.' 'All right, then. Kick again.' 'That's the end. Beat him twice, you see. Now,that's where ho had lhe advantage of me. I have merely got ahead of you to the extent of one din ner.' 'How's that, sir.' 'What do you do with a fellow who can't pay V 'Give him in charge of the police,' said-the proprietor, eying me severely. The chestnut was beginning to work on him. 'Then he has to do any kicking that's done himself. Well, I haven't the money lo pay for this meal. Will you trust me until this time to morrow ¥' I expected there would bo a fus.*, but there wasn't. 1 presume the native honesty stamped indelibly on my face told him lie would lose nothing. I felt veiy grateful to him and we had a glass of champagne on it on Monday. I went back to the oflice and worked till nightfall. I had dined so well that I thought I would never be hungry a gain, but when I got out into the cool night air I found that I needed a lunch. I wanted to keep a pem.y so that if the railway clerk refused me credit for a Hammersmith ticket I could buy a third-class ticket—and at least get on the train. So my available resources were three half-pence. It surprised me lo learn that I could make a good meal on that sum. There was a shop in the window of which sizzled a great num ber of sausages over a gas stove. I went in and made inquiries. I found that for three half-pence I could have sausage and mashed potatoes or fried fish and mashed potatoes. I was not hungry enough to risk my precious life on cheap sausages,so I took the fish in stead. Both fish and potatoes were ex cellent. The next thing was to 'beat' my way back to Hammersmith. I asked for credit at the ticket window, and was politely and with reasonable firmness refused. I somehow received the im pression that it was not by giving credit the District Railway paid its div idends. I stepped back, and waited a few moments, joined the procession at the window, and when once more in front of the clerk I slammed down my penny, saying : 'Westminster. Third. Single.' With equal promptness the ticket was thrust me and with it I passed the barrier, and so got on the Hammer smith train. I entered a first-class carriage with a third-class penny ticket in my pocket. I had three fellow-passengers. As it was Sunday night the chances were that no ticket inspector would trouble us. If he did, I felt that I was lost. There was a white card in my pocket. First-class tickets on the underground are white. I resolved to take another step in crime, so I tore a bit of the white card to about the siz-i of a return half of a ticket. This I put in my vest pocket—for emergencies. Sure enough, at Victoria Station a polite inspector swung himself into our compartment. 'Tickets, gentlemen, if you please.' Four thumbs and four fingers went indolently down into four yest-pockets and brought up four bits of white pa per. 'Thank you, gentlemen.' The door banged shut. The country was saved. I would here like to call the attention of any young man desir ous of getting on and prospering in a career of villiauy and decej tion, to the advisability of acting as near as possi ble like the honest act under similar circumstances. I pulled out the bit of bogus pasteboard in just tho same man ner I had hundreds of times showed genuine tickets—neither delaying or hurrying. If I had pretended to be asleep or to have lost my ticket or tiled any such ruse I would at once have a roused the man's suspicion*, and once that was done the game would he up. Until a false move was made on my part, the inspector performed his duties A l'AI'IOl! FOR TUB IIO.MB CIRC LB. with u cert ii i utibvivptones*, it' 1nnt)i t) so term it. Tii LSO of you who expect to reach Newgate -to pl.igi.uiz* my fi iei.d Ait em ll* Waul —will son the phi It is >}ihy tf l bin. To the ticket taker at Hammersmith I said : 'I have travt led from Charing Grow* here. I have no ticket exc pi Mm pen ny one that let roe on the train. Mow much do I owe you lie named the sum—nine pence, 1 think. 'I have no money. If you send a porter with me to my rooms I will pay the fare and also make it rquare with him.' The porter came along wi'h mc, and so ended my day of poverty. Thus it ia that I agree with Mr. Ilammerton—that the inconveniences of poverty are not exactly favorable to intellectual life. A Peninsula The remnants of ha'f-forgotten stud ies are sometimes brought to light in a strangely dilapidated condition. St) it proved in the following dialogue over heard at a country railway station. The speakers were father and son, tho hit ter a middle-aged man. It seems that the father had been vis iting an adjoining town, and, having there heard loud praises of Florida as a residence, was wildly enthusiastic over the advantages to be gained in moving South. The son, more cautious than the older man, was inclined to scoff at the credulity of the latter. 'Why, the circulars say there ain't no sich place anywhere !' declared the father, his words almost stumbling over one another in their eagerness to escape. •Circulars! a pissle o' lies !' said the son, deftly piling milk-cans in his wa gon, 'you don't mean to swaller every thing that's printed, do you ?' 'Well, but they say if you buy a lot of orange trees that's pooty well aloi.g, you can set right down side of 'em an' fold your arms, an' they'll make your fortune quicker'n no time.' 'A heap they will ! Look here, dad, you clear the stones out o' the four acre lot, and plant 'lnters there, an' you'll be belter on't than if you had a million orange trees 1' 'An' the climate! the air's as clear—' 'Clear where 'taint all thick with skeeters big as your thumb, an' grass hoppers like wharf- rats !' 'The sea-coast ain't many miles a way from any p'int,as I take it, an' the mountains—' Th's was too much. The young man's long-unused knowledge of geog raphy came to his rescue; he had found a flaw which could not fail in proving the vaunted circulars false. 'Mountains !' he cried,triumphantly. 'Mountains I Why, man, Florida's a peninsula !' The father said no more, but it was evident that his disappointment in find ing his castle shattered was tempered by his pride in his son's superior knowl edge. Eating Before Sleeping. Among the novelties suggested by certain physicians is a recommendation to eat before retiring at night. At first the sleep will be heavy and the dreams disturbed ; but eventually, it is claimed, a full stomach will cause drowsiness and the food will digest bet ter. The blood, it is argued, being drawn to the stomach, incites to slum ber, because the pressure upon the brain is thereby relieved. Actors, it is said, eat heartily after a performance and find it advantageous to do so. Our English progenitors, in a past genera tion, partook of late and hearty sup pers, and lived quite as long as their descendants. Lite dinners are still the custom in England, and then in hot countries it is always the custom to tske a siesta after a heavy midday meal. Animals generally sleep after eating. It is doubtful, howyer, if these theories will succeed in changing the habits of the American people. Out sids of the large cities, the midday meal is the principal one, aud the sup per, or tea,is partaken of several hours before retiring. Man is a creature of habit,and he had better follow the ens toms of a lifetime. Still, it is probably true that persons suffering from indi gestion would advantage themselves if they could take a nap after a heavy meal. 'You ought to have your baby bap tized 'Rastus,' said a member of the church to a colored father.' 'Yes, sail, but I can not afford de cost.' 'lt doesen't cost anything.' 'I know it doesn't cost nuthin' fo' de mere act of baptism, sah ; but yo' see I owe de minister two dollars for perfo'min' de weddin' cer'mony a yeah ago, an' he mought object, sah, to baptizin' a baby that hadn't been paid fo\' BOX OR COX. The Brunswick Hotel is no more the Water Olli-e than the High School building is the City Hull, but there are people who are determined not to understand this. An average of half a dozen par day walk into the ofiieo of the hotel, plank their uioney down on the counter and call out : '] want to pay tho water tax on No. 254 Blank street.' When the affable clerks inform them that they have made a mistake, which is enly what an affable clerk should do there is a feeling on the part of these people that they have somehow been abused,and they go off mad. Two or three weeks ago a very stem-faced man,carrying himself very rigidly, entered the hotel, rapped on the counter with his knuckles, and icily observed : 'l'll never pay it—never !' 'What ?' asked Clerk Brown 'That infernal water tax ! You can sue and be hanged !' 'This is uot tho Water Office.' 'lt isn't ?' 'No, sir; you'll have to go down four doors*' 'But if this is not the Water Office what do you have the sign up for V 'Wo have no such sign.' 'Well, it looks like the place.*' • 'Not at all, sir. Please call four doors below.' 'l'll be durned if I do ! Why didn't you tell me when I first came in that this was a hotel ?' 'I supposed you knew it.' 'Oh, well, perhaps you will make some thing by this and perhaps you Won't.' A week later tho stern faced man entered the Water Office one morning, reached his hand through the window to one of tho clerks, and said : 'Shako, old boy, I was out of tem per that moruing, aud have been very sorry for it. Odd wasn't it, that I came into this hotel instead of the Water Office ? You treated mc like a gentleman, aud I beg your par don !' 'I—I don't understand,' replied the clerk. 'Why, I came into this hotel one morning not long ago, aud ' 'But this is no hotel. This is the Water Office.' 'But why don't you put up a sign ?' 'There's one at the door, sir ?' 'And where's the hotel ?' 'Please call four doors above.' 'I won' do it! No, sir—never. Sec you hung first! Good morning sir—neyer will I pay that infernal tax if I die for it!'— Detroit Free Press. Gold from a Kitchen Stove. 'I know a man,' said a cable car pas senger, 'who came to Chicago three years ago when he was just of age,with out a dollar. lie hired out tu a butch er and deliyered meat from a basket which he carried on his shoulder. It was hard work, ard the young country man didn't get fat on it. but he kept his eyes open and resolved to improve tbe first opportunity to better his con dition. As butcher boy ho went much into alleys and back yards, and there noticed that the ash piles which came from the house stoves had a good deal of coal in them. lie bought a hand cart with his savings, resigned from the butcher shop, and went around and made arrangements with house holders to draw their ashes away. Ilis charges were surprisingly low, and by hard work he managed to earn a dollar and a half in this way. But this was only half his earnings. lie rigged up a sieve through which he screened all the ashes lie hauled, and the coal thus se cured was worth about a dollar and a half more. He then went into the bus iness on a larger scale, hiring laborers and furnishing tliern carls and ligging up a large screen where load after load could be dumped. He has boys to pick out the cinders and clinkers aud wag ons to haul the coal away and sell it. He now hauls unsifted ashes away for nothing, but charges for removing sift ed ashes. A good many people who used to sift their ashes don't do it now, saving themselves the trouble and get ting the refnse hauled away for noth ing. That butcher boy is making a ! bout $3,000 a year.' A Western man applied for a pension on the ground that he was badly injur ed by a Confederate "ram" during the war. Investigation showed that lie was a sutler in tbe army, and while out on a foraging expedition with some of the boys, was painfully butted through a fence uy an old sheep of the male per suasion, the property of a Confederate officer. Terms, SIOO per Year, in Advance. M irryitig Under Difflsulti J3. James Sp-toney, vulgtrly c tiled ly his neighboring S;o toy Jim, wis the sou of a well-to-do farm's* in the s'ate of P . At the limn he is intro duced to the reader he is in his twenty eighth year. lie had never .been very far from home, eon: t queitlly had seen very little of the wot Id. lie was an in dustrious, haimlefs young man. whose fortune could never Is* in ule by his beauty. lie was very tall, thin, and remarkably awkward, with small, dull looking blue eyes of so p tie a hue that they looked as if the color was faded out, abundant red hair. Hoi id compltx ion,and large, course features. lloweyer, there is no accounting for taste, for Jemima Jenkins, the daugh ter of an adjoining farmer, declared he was 'jist the handsumist man she ever cast eyes upon.' Now, James had a great admiration for the young damsel, who in her per sonal appearance was as little favored as himself. She was a stout, tow-head ed girl, with a freckled skin, which looked as if the flies had been sporting with it. The ill natured in tiie neigh borhood who knew of their courtship earnestly hoped they might come to gether in matrimony, arguing that it would be a pity to spoil a good-looking couple with either. One bi iglit, sunny Sabbath afternoon in mid summer, as Jim was lying upon the grass in front of the door of his father's house planning tor the future, one of the flrst thing? that occurred to him was that he should get married. 'Dad's sot on it,' he thought, 'and so is mam, and I ort tu try and please 'era —it's time. I could rent old Jake Spangler's farm, and the money I've got "niter the bank 'ill stock it, and Mitnie's daddy he'll furnish the house like he did fur Mat Bunn, who married her sister Sally Ann. I think I'll jist go over to old Jenkins' and ask her— there's nothin' like stritcia' while the iron's hot.' Suiting the action to the word he sprang up and started for the house, and neatly attired himself, putting some extra touches to his toilet before starting on his important mission. lie looked decidedly gay when he had at tired himself in his long grey linen coat, briglittred waistcoat, straw hat, with a blue ribbon around it, short, yery wide, linen pants, and large heavy shoes. lie made fast time as he cross ed his father's farm, jumping fences and ditches until he found himself up on 'Squire Jenkins' land. As he near ed the house he beheld his divinity sit ting upon a giassy mound, beneath a large willow tree, so ne little distance from the house. fc 'o ! glorious opportunity,' thought Jim. 'I kin jist settle the matter now, makin' short work on it.' As he approached he felt a slight trembling of the limbs, a nervous sen sation, but he made up his rniud that he was not going to be frightened from his purpose. 'A gal kin only no, to du her wust, and there's pleuty on 'em if she dus. They are jist as thick as black berries—l kin git another if she's con trary.', Summoning up his courage he shout ed * 'Hallo, Mimie I be it you ? How does yer be ?' 'Fust rate, Jim ! how be yer ? lam glad yer come, fur I'ye been lookin' for yer.' 'The purtty crittur, she's jist a bust in' with luv' fur me !' soliloquized the lover. 'ls yer dog tied up, Mimie ?' asked Jim,'fur I'm afeard uv that cuss,' look ing nervously around. ' 'Tother night as Bill Jones an' me was going home from here, he takes arter us. Bill he's purtty spry, he lias sich big feet he kin git oyer ground very handy, but jist as he went to jump over the horse-trough, he tripped, and in he goos. He holler ed tu me fur help, but, laws ! I jist keeps clear out of his way, when the tarnal critter leaves Bill and makes fur me, aud hangs on tu my coat tail with sich a grip that when I managed to shake him off he had the whole uv my new coat tail inter his big jaws! Bill he jist stood and laughed lit to split hisself. He wus mad cause he got a duckin'.' 'Sakes alive! yer might haye bin kilt,' said Jemima. 'l'll coax dad to shoot him.' 'Mima,' said Jim, anxious to proceed to business, whilst his face became as red as a beet, 'I want tu ask yer some thin' pertikilar. Yer kin either say yes or no, but uv course I'd sooner it was yes. Dad wants me tu git married and so does mam, and I reckon you'd do jist as well as any one else, so I [jist thought I'd ask yer.' Jemima simpered and hung her head —at last she said : 'There's Lydia Ann Blinker yer could git.' 'Won't have her—'cause she's lame.' 'Well, Sally Jane Grubb—how du yer like her ?' 'She won't do,cause she talks through her nose.' There's lluthie Simpkins, won't she suit yer ?' 'No, she won't now, cause she's Wind in one eye.' NO. 23 NEWBPAPBR LAWS If subscribers order the discontinuation of newspapers. the iiwdlshrrs may roHtisue ?> send rhem until all arrearages are paid. If subscribers refuse or neglect m take their newspapers from the nOlnu to which they a reset it they are held responsible uuiU t-hey have set thai tile bills ai d orders ri them discontinued. If subscribers nv\e toother places without in forming the puHidhor, and the newspapers are sent to the former place, t hey are respoiibible. 1 ADVERTISING KATES. 1 wk. i mo. |Butos. (i mos. 1 yen 1 square * 2 (/) ♦ l tot | $(Mi *6 no $s 00 4(M) coo lono lft oo is oo A " Ino 1000 ir.no woo 4000 1 " 10 00 15 00 £".(* 4500 75 00 One inch makes a somite. Administrators ami Executors' Noltees |u/jO. Tntttsient adve - tlscnieuts nml locals 10reels j-r How for fir-1 insertion and Scent* per Hoe for each addition al insertion 'Yer jist tu i>ettiekaieer, Jim !' said Mima, delighted to think P.c preferred her to all others. 'I won't praise an other gal tu yer. Yu don't want tu get quarried anyhow. What'a the use of yer foolin' V 'Did thecal mean to .my no ? Lor, women wits so queer,' he soliloquized# and hacked off, alarmed at Mimie's manner, knocking, as he did so, against and upsetting a hornet's ntst, which so enraged the inmates that they made a grand attack upon him. 'Oh, Jemima ! Jemima ! Jem ! take 'em off; oh, biases, oh !' and before she could realize the situation, he rushed by like a Hying machine, beating his liinhs with his straw hat, his red hair blazing iu the sunlight. There was no time for love or ro mance with poor Jim now—the situa tion was practical. 'Bless my stars !' cried the terrified Jemima, 'Jim Spooney has jist gone mad. Stop, Jim,stop,for the land sake, stop !' Not knowing what course to pursue, she stood looking in dismay after her swiftly departing lover. As he at tempted to cross a creek he fell in, and some of his vicious enemies found a watery grave. Others angrily clung to him. As he mounted a fence, and was about clearing it, an unmannerly bull (doubtless attracted hv his red waist coat), gaye him a toss with his horns sending him far into the meadow be yond. This last shot through the air, rocket-like, was the fltial view .Jemima had of her lover. There poor Jamee lay for some time, smarting with pain, anger and disap pointment. When he reached home, although rid of his enemies, they had left their traces behind them. His head was swelled to twice its size, one eye was entirely closed, whilst his lips were a sight to behold. Til not let Miraie go. l'l' hang on though if she should die 1 would'nt try agin t3 git another gal. It's too much bother, but I'll be spunky this yer time, see if I don't.' 'Yer jist right, Jimmy,' said his fond mother, to whom these confidential re marks were made, looking woefully at her spectacle of a son. 'Never give up. Yer dad didn't when he came a court iu' me, I tell yer. I jist had to marry him to git shut uv him. The next time you go to see Mimie, don't go ashame d like through the back yard, but go to the fron uv their house like a man, and as fur the gal that's the way big folks do.' So the next time he took his mother's advice, and arranged matteisso satis factorily with Jemima that it is re ported they are to be married in the au lumu by 'Squire Bellows. He took her to a neighboring town to a circus a short time ago, and they were seen indulging in spruce beer and eating ice-cream out of the same dish in a loving manner. They looked very happy as they walk ed through the main street hand in hand—and in view of these extravagan ces, the report of their approaching bliss is probably correct, and Miss Jen kins will be Mrs. Spooney. Mr. Gould's Manner of Exer cising. They tell a story in his office about Mr. Gould's resolving, on the advice of his physician two years ago, to exercise. 'I don't wish yon to exercise vio lently," said the doctor ; all you need to do is to practice mild calisth enics an hour every day.' •All right,' said Gould ; 'show me exactly what to' do.' Thereupon the medical man in structed the millionaire in a variety of movements, such as flexing and ex tend the arms and legs, inflating the lungs slowly excluding the air. beat ing the chest with the hands, and bending the body sideways and back ward. Next day, when his brokerage partners, Connor and Morosini, look ed into his private office, where he sat at his desk reading letters from the morning's mail, they were as tounded at the sight. Gould was go ing through a series ot contortions that indicated nothing less than rav ing madness. His eyes were on the manuscript of a long epistle, and he seemed intently perus ing it; but his puny physique was undergoing the strangest motion—his arm 9 and legs extending one after another in all di rections, and his body doing more genuflections than were ever conceiv ed of a ritualist. Was he having a fit ? No ; his calm face indicated no agony or illness. Had he gone crazy ? That was likely, the two partners thought. "What is the matter, Mr. Gould f' said Conner, approaching rather cau tiously. 'ls there something bad in that let ter ?' said.Morosini. •No, no,' replied Gould, setting au arm revolving like a \frbeel with one spoke and no rim ; 'l'm exercising 1 without loss of time.'