In the Park, A h.rs of stars. . glimmering veil Before the ancient throne of night; A planet like a sentinel Upon the outer height. Peep dusky heavens, and wide still air. Where fainting fragrance roils along . A Writ that warble* in his dream Some thrill of broken song. Great roses drooping for the dew Around us in the perfect gloom And, as we wait, far off and tow. The distant breaker*' boom. Ah ' among all ds'iciou* nights. Give me this hour's mysterious •WOOD ; Knebanted so. g, enchanted linsli. And June without a moon ! Pyrus Japonic*— Fairies' Fire. It is said that the Pa ries Ha\e br.wning eyes. And thej light them at bove's own shrine : But I know not if aught below Rie skies. Can match Uioee bright eye. of thine! Methmks thon hast stolen ihe Fail tee' iii<> To give them their changing light. And lovers, 1 trow may all x a.nly To a syren so chaimuigly bright, Boar not away, in tliv brilliant guise - tin good sooth 1 tear thou'rt a rangerk And pare not so fordly on yonder skies. Lest thou lake to theawi-iga swsel stranger Li niu G. RivHM. WILLIE. It frightened us a good deal when we found the little boy dead. This is the way it was. We were time country lads goiug home across the lots at noon for our dinner. Iu passing a lonely pasture ground we saw a little basket tying ahead of us upon the grass. We marie a race for it, and Ed captured the priae ; a little farther on we picked up a little hat which we at once recognised as Willie Dedriek's. Then we turned the angle of the sig-sxg rail fence, and there in the corner, jammer! close under the bottom rail, was beautiful little Willie, only five years old. His clothing was totu and bloody, and be did not move ; we felt a little afraid because he was eo still, but we went no to him. He was dear!, aud his plump little features were all blackened with great bruises. It shocked na very much. Only three hours before we had been plaving with Willie at the pond. We felt that it was a terrible thing to find him dead in this unlocked for manner. We asked each other what Walter and Mary would do when they ah< aid Lea.- of this. Willie was the only boy they had. And then the question caaie up what we ought to do nnder such circumstances. There was no one iu sight to tell ns. It was suggested that we might take up the body and carry it home to Walter and and Miry ; it was not far through the lot and down the batik, to tho pond where their home was. It seemed natural and right at first that we should take the chubby little boy and carry him home. But we shrank from the Ereeence of death even in the form of ttle Willie ; and besides that, we had certain dim and ©infused ideas, as country lads do who read the city news papers, that somehow a coroner was neceasary, and that it would not be law ful or safe for us to meddle with Willie thus strangely found dead from an un known cause. So we s.'.t down upon the large stones near by Willie and held a council. There was no chairman appointed, and no secretary, and none of the surround ings that ordinarily belong to delibera tive bodies; nevertheless in all the essentials of a great council this occa sion was very eminent. Here were three lads seated upon three fragments of the ancient granite which strews the northern slope of the Adirondack Moun tains, and below them stretched the wild woods, away to the valley of the mighty St Lawrence; and in their midst, npon that bright summer day, sat the skeleton king with his awfnl sceptre and his iron crown, pressing npon their warm hearts those match less terrors which have ruled the world since time began. It was an august presence, and the boys felt their responsibility more than members of councils ordinarily do. Their final conclusion was, that one of their number must go and tell Walter and Mary, while the other two watched the body. It required quite as mnch courage as wisdom to reach this conclu sion, for to tell the parents was a task the boys dreaded. The lot was east, country-boy fashion, with three blades of grass, to deter mine who should be the messenger of evil tidings. The lot fell upon Phil, and he immediately rose up to start. Ed suggested at this point that in send ing word the death ought to be as scribed to some cause. The boys had been Tery much puzzled from the first to know what could have done it They gazed about the pasture ground to dis cover what suggestion could be made. There were a conple of horses, some cows and some sheep, grazing in a dis tant part of the inclosure. As soon as it was suggested that one of the horses might perhaps have done it by kicking Willie, the boys accepted that as the natural and nndouhted solution of the mystery. And so Phil took that word with him. Phil went npon a little trot through the lot and down the bank, movid rap idly so that his heart might not have time to quail or shrink ; and in less than five minutes he stood by the little house near the pond. He looked in at the door, which was wide open upon this warm summer day, and there he saw Walter and Mary. Walter Bat cleaning the lock of his rifle, while the gun itself was lying across his lap. Doubtless Phil's face was somewhat pale as he went in at the door, for Mary looked at him as if she Baw something there, and dreaded it. The lad had good sense ; he did not blunt out the Bad news suddenly. He said to Walter in a quiet way, " Will you please to step out of the door with me ? I wish to see you." It was the earnestness of the voice, perhaps, that caused the man to put aside his gun and obey ao quickly. When they were out of the house Phil said, " I have bad news for you ; we have found your little son in the lot, kicked by a horse, and we are afraid tb>it he is so bad that he is dead." Phil had thought of this way of pay ing it before he got to the house. When he said dead, Walter gave a little a tart and said, "Is he dead ?" Phil had to say, " Yes, we are afraid be is, and we think he is." Walter stepped into the cottage and Phil stood at the door to see how he wonld tell Mary. Walter said, without any preface, " Mary, our little Willie is dead J" "That was not a prudent thing," the boy thought, as the tragic words fell upon his ear and fixed themselves in his memory. The effect of the words npon Mary reminded the boy of the way he had seen a rifle-shot tell npon a rabbit or partridge. The woman passed through a kind of flatter or shudder for a mo ment, and then sank straight down in a little heap npon the floor. Then fol lowed a series of qnick gasps and catching for breath, and short exclama tions of " Oh dear ! oh dear !" and then the stifled shrieking began. Walter took his wife np in his strong arms and tried to nndo in part the cad work which had been accomplished upon her by the few words he had so suddenly and imprudently uttered. He said that Willie might not be dead after all, but only hurt. And so be placed her upon a bed, and he and Phil left her there and started to go and see Willie. Not many words were said as the man and boy climbed the bank and strode hastily along to the fatal spot. As they neared it, there sat the two watcherß, faithful to their post and as still as statues. Phil and Walter turned the angle of the fence, and the father came up to the body of his little sen. He had not • reined stricken with grief until now, bat only excited. As he looked steed fly upon the chubby little form U bat- KRKIX lvl irrz, Ktlitorun.l Proprietor. VOL. VII. tered and bloody and bruised, the lad who had brought hiui there felt that some words must lie sid. " It's a kick, ain't it If" said ho. This was hardly tUo right thing to say at such a moment, perhaps. Tho poor father ohokod and trembled and replied, "A kiok or a bite or some thing—oh dear !" And thou ho turned his ho ld and looked away, and there was tho sound of his sobbing, .ud a strange, moaning cry. Walter would uot star by the body, bnl directed tho boys to remain and watch while ho himself went aud brought his friend the doctor. Aud thou he turned away and went i tY over the fields towanl the settlement, utter ing loud sobs and that same strange cry. It was hardly more thau ten minutes' walk down to the road toward which Walter directed his steps and in a wry short time the bova saw groups of uieu coming from the houses, up the accliv ity toward the fatal spot. They came hastily, two and three together, and soon a dozen or two had gathered around the three boys who had watched, and were gazing at the body. After the first look the men made characteristic remarks. "That is a rough piece of business ! said Dan. " Fearful !" said Pete. " That's durn queer work for a boas, r.ow, ain't it ?" said Levi, a tall, ketu fellow, intended bv nature for a lawyer. " It don't look like a boss to me," said another. Aud so they went on to comment and examine. It appeared that the r-ail un der which Willie was jammed was dented and marked as if hammered by many blows. The three innocent boys who had originated the "boss theory," as the men called it, accounted for the marks on the rail by saying that the horse pawed at Willie*after he was un der the fence. The men said that they kuew better ; they began to oae&tion the boys as if they entertained suspicious iu regard to them, and the boys became very un comfortable. The men asked asked repeatedly jnst how the body was lying when the bovs had found it, and in quired again aud again whether they had moved it all. The lads felt these insinuations verv keenly. Meu continued to come, and at length women came in groups, until quite au assembly was gathered there iu the open field. Finally Walter returned slowly np the hill with a few friends, as if he were reluctant to come agaiu to the place. Just as he reached the spot, good old Father Most ly, and his wife, a sharp, managing woman, caaie from the opposite direction and met Walter. Father and Mother Mesely lived down by the sehool-house at the other side of the settlement. Mother Mosely at once seized hold of Walter, and while 6he wrung his haud, said : " Oh, Walter! we can't give him up 1" Father Mosely spoke a few words which interested the people very mnch. Hearing some allnsien made to the "boss theory," he said : " The little boy down at the school says it was a sheep that did it." And then it came out that Willie's playmate, Charlie Sanders, was " the boy down at the school," and that Charlie had cried all the forenoon and dared not tell the teacher what the mat ter was ; but finn at the noon-spell he told a little girl th.a Wi.lie did not come to school because a sheep in the lot had chased them and knocked Willio down, and he could not get np. Here wa light indeed, especially for the three lads, who hail begun to feel, since the horse theory was criticised, as if they themselves were culprits un less they accounted for " the murder." Across the lot the sheep were still feeding. A young farmer step[>ed out of the crowd and called " Nan, nan, nan," and the flock, rai-ing their heads, responded with a multitude of ba-a-as, and came gailoning over the grassy field. At their head was the " the old ram," a fine "buck " with great horns curling in spirals around his ears. The young farmer held Willie's basket in one hand, and making a brawny fiat of the other, struck out toward tho ram, offering him battle. The buck at once brought his head down in lino of attack, squared him self for a big butt, and came on with a little run, and a charge that in an artis tic point of view was quite beantifnl. The farmer, stepping aside, caught him by his horns as he came, and that mag-i mflcent charge was his last. There was a blood-thirsty feeling per vading the crowd, nudonbtedly, but Buck had a fair trial. There "on his white, bold face and horns were the bright cxrmine drops of fresh blood. So other witnesses were needed. In a moment a glittering keen knife flashed from somebody's keeping into the bright sunshine, and in a moment more a pur ple stream dyed the white wool around Buck's throat, and there was a red pool npon the grass ; and a little later, as Dan remarked, " Borne tough mutton." j The excitement s bated ; for the mys tery was cleared up and Justice had its due. Kind-hearted Joe, who superin tended the Bab bath-school and led the religions element of the neighborhood, Btepped forward and said to the crowd : j " Well, boys, it is all right here, and '■ no suspicion and no need of any cere- j mony ; let ns take him home." And then Joe took Willie in his arms and held him closely with the little face against his own, as if he were still liv ing, and started for the cottage. Borne of the people followed in a picturesque procession, through the pasture lot and down the bank and along by the shore of the pond. When Walter s house was reached, a few of the women went in to soothe Mary ; and Joe and the doctor went in also, and the people clustered about the door. In the course of an hour it seemed that all had been done that conld IK done for Walter and Mary, and the peo- j pie, except a few, who remained as watchers and helpers, dispersed to their homes. The three days that followed were bright, sunny days. A strange stillnesa and nnnsnal hash reigned in the neigh borhood of the cottage. The harsh, grating sound of the saw-mill was not heard as at other times, for the mill was stopped in token of respect for the great sorrow. Only the softly flowing stream was heard, mingling its nvmirru* with the hum of the bees in the garden. Now and then groups of children, dressed in their Sunday attire, would come down the bank, and with hushed voices and fearful looks steal up to ward the cottage door. Then kind Joe would see them and would come out and take them in to see Willie ; and after a few moments they would issue forth again, and walk sadly homeward, and as they went the sunlight dried their tears. And farmers and burners came from many miles away " to see the little boy that was killed by a sheep." Some of the rough men manifested their sym pathy by exhibiting vindictive feelings toward the ram. After going in and viewing the braised corpse, they wonld come out with dark, determined looks, and grasping again the long rifles which they had brought with them and "stood up " by the door, they would inquire of any bystander, with fierce emphasis, whether the ram that "did that" was dead. On being informed of hie execution, Tun CENTRE REPORTER. they won hi say, •' /'Aa,' will do," with an air that implied how in noli they would have enjoy. .1 it to haro had u shot at him. Indeed, it ap|tcared that i( tho |K found. He had his left hand tied up, but they jerked the rags off and found no hurt or wound. Lastly they fished out ol his pockets S3B 45 in small money, as ho had begged it, and dis covered that lie had a bank-book on a Chicago savings bank with 81H0.50 credited to him. He made a great fuss as they went on to expose him, and finally promised that he would leave Detroit by the Pacific express and never come hero again. He claimed to lutve begged most of the money in Toledo." " Free " Fffjr pt. An Egypti.m correspondent says: "There is not an article sold to the Khcdhivc or his people, from a pin to a sicntn-engine, which docs not yield tribute. We read a good deal of the word 'backsheesh ' in nil books and writings about Egypt, but wc do not know how often it is the echo of the utter ance from Europe. In no other country in the world does a traveler of rank expect to lie lodged, hoarded, nnd rarricd alxiut gratis by the ruler. Here it is the rule. If the governor of an Indian province, with which Egypt has got no more to do than with Kumschatka, arrives at Suez, on his way to Cairo or Alexandria, he has a special train put at his disposal when asked for; if he wishes to stay in Cairo he lias a house as | signed to him, carriages and horses, n stafl i of servants, and his stable spread with every I luxury. Does he want to go tip the Nile, | lie gets one of the Viceroy's steamers to tow liis bialieah. Many jieople come here who expect their consuls to ie-k such favors asof right, never reflecting on the wholesome ex ample set in other countries, and more especially in our own, where even greatness allied to lovnlty is occasionally obliged to take care of itself in private apartments and pay for its own broughams," CKNTKH HALL. CENTIII) CO.. PA.. TJICHSDAV, AKitIST <>, 1874. Hi! \HI M< OTHERS' THOUGHTS. Aiiullirr of III* I uti|ilalaMl M>*trrlc* of ftiv 11 11 ION si >1 tint. About a hundred gentlemen assem bled in New York, the Sun says, to see the extraordinary performance of Mr. J. 11. Brown, a young gentleman who professes to reail thoughts in the uiind of any person in his presence. Mr. Brown is about twenty-seven year* of age, very thiu, and nervous. The first test of bis powers was made by a gen tleman hiding a pencil outside the room. Mr. Browu put one hand upon the forehead of the gentleman, and holding his arm with the other went with hardly any delay to the place where the pencil was concealed. The pencil was then hidden under a gentleman's coat collar, and discovered in a similar maimer. In this experiment the jur son who concealed the peueil allowed his train of thought to be lor a moment broken, aud the iuterval was marked bv the young performer stepping rap idly toward the other end of the room, aud, as the ideas of the man whose mind he was reading were once more brought under control, he as rapidly retraced Ilia steps, aud drew the pencil from un der the collar. Another gentleman was then request ed to think of some person iu the room, but walking rapidly around for some minutes Mr. Brown declared his in ability to find the person thought of, and asked where he wo*. The gentle man then explained thut his friend was iu California. The writer, who wan a doubter, was asked to think of some person 111 the room. He selected Mr. Lewis Lelaud, the proprietor of the hotel. Mr. lirown laid liia hand uj-ou tlie reporter'* fore head and walked quickly up the room. Before Mr. Lelaud he paused, and at that moment the reporter allowed his miud to wander to another peraon. Instantly Mr. Brown stepped toward the peraon last thought of, and then as the rejHirter once more concentrated his thoughts upon Mr. Lelaud, he wheeled, retraced his steps, and put his hand on Mr. Lelaud's shoulder. Four gentlemen, among whom was Mr. Wells, of Fowler Js Wells, phre nologists, were selected while Mr. llrowu was out of the iwom. They passed an article from • tie to another, the last of the party hiding it. Mr. Brown then put his hand on the fore head of the gentleman who had in the first instance given the article to Mr. Wells. After a short search the jer former stopped opposite a gentleman wlume features in some measure resem bled those of the phrenologist, and it was explained that the person through whose hands the pencil had first gone had never seen Mr. Wells before, aud had momentarily mistaken the man pointed out by Mr. Brown for him. This announcement, apparently proof conclusive of the sjwaker's powers, was received wit i applause. Mr. Wells stepped forward, and through bin Mr. Brown traced the article to the person to whom it had been next given, and, finally, to its place of concealment. The next experiment was that of read ing the mind of a gentleman bv holding the hand of another person wlio, while touching the gentlemen experimented upon, allowed his own mind to remain as nearly na possible impassive. Mr. Wells examined the performer's head and found nothing unusual, lie said his mental exertions seemed very wearing, aud that he was not likely to live ten years longer. He added that the performance was to him inex plicable. _ A Ilare for Pigeons. The banks of Betsey riTer, near Frankford, Mich., are a favorite resort for pigeons,and they are annually taken there in great numbers. The nesting is about throe miles wide ami fifteen miles long, anil extends along loth banks of the Betaev river. On their first arrival, whirl? is in May, the hunters buiid huts of boughs on the shores of Crystal lake, a flue sheet of water nine miles long, and in other open localities, nnd shoot the pigeons as they fly in masses. There are three flights a day. First the male birds begin to fly just before sunrise, leaving the nest ings, and fly north and east from ten to sixty miles to feed. This flight lasts nearly two hours, at which time the sky is actually clouded with them. At seven o'clock not a bird can l>o seen. Again, at about half-past eight, the male birds begin to return, and the "hens" begin to leave the nests to procure their late breakfast. The males always take the place of the females, and do their share of the sitting. At nine o'clock the scene Iwggars descrip tion, when the sky is spotted with con tinuous clouds of pigeons goingoricli way with the rapidity of the wind, and coming in sight continually for two hours. The " hens " stay out till four in the afternoon, when they return, and the "Toms" again go out inquest of food and stay as long as they please. Home do not return uatil sundown, at which time they can be knocked down by dozens,as they fly only a few feet from the ground. Later in the season the catching is done in feed beds and salt springs, wliicli are prepared some weeks in advance, being baited with corn and salt, which, being mixed, is scattered over a smooth spot in the woods near a a muddy spring,which being also salted profusely, affords a drinking place. When birds begin to work the feed beds in sufficient numbers, say from one hun dred to six hundred dozen, then the slaughter commences. The largest " haul " that has been made thia season at one spring of a net was fifty dozen. Turkish Imperturbability. Olive Harper writes to the St. Louis Globe from Turkey: "Tho indolence of the people here is something almost wonderful. No one except a native of this country thoroughly understands the art of laziness. Tho men sit all day long on little stools in front of the various cafes, smoking and talking— never stirring. They even talk in a low, murmuring tone, very different to a crowd of Dutchmen, Frenchmen, or even Englishmen. There is not tho least excitement of any kind in their manner ; all ia tranquil laziness. The other evening the cry of 'yanjin var '(' flra') echoed through tho village (Buynkdere), and yet no one stirred from his place in the cafe. Presently a cava use came in and accosted a Turk who was seated smoking his narghila, saying, ' Yonr house is burned.' He simply bowed his head, saying, ' Kis met.' The carasse then said. ' Yonr woman and one child are Also bnrned. Tliere were two snveil. Where shall they be taken ?' Tho Tnrk said slowly, ' Great ia God; take them to my mother,' and resumed his pipe." ANlrangc Bank. A Orange bank has been opened at tho corner of California and LeidesdorfT streets. The capital is 85,000,000, in sl-ires of SIOO. Already about 81,000,- CbO have been subscribed by 1,000 shareholders. Ton per cent, has been calhd as u first installment and a second will probably bo called on the Ist of January, 1875. The management of the bank is to be eminently conserva tive. Its object is to enable farmers to borrow money for oouimeroial purposes upon terms as favorable as are made to other borrowers, -San Francitoo paper, TIIE GRASSHOPPER PLAGUE Lite KM |> I111 > %% la Ia It I lie UlllM* Itcalio) lite l iu|. Gov. Davis, of .Mtnuesota, in view of immediate demand fur relief for the des titute in tho counties of that Btatc rav aged by grasshoppers, has proposed a plan supplementary to the organized relief asked for from the tiraugers. it is toappial directly to the County Boards for appropriations to meet the exigencies of the moment. The Coin tuisMoiiers of llarnsey County, upon representation of the Governor and Gen. Sibley, promptly appropriated $5,(100 for relief, aud if other counties respond as promptly, nil the means de manded for immediate exigencies will be supplied. The Minneapolis Tribune baa the followiug information concern ing tho grasshoppers : Prof. fi. Barnard lias returned to the city after a week's absence. He brings with hitu most discouraging reports front the grasshopper country. He handed us a package containing the re mains of some wheat, c*rn, potato vines and poplar bushes that had been de stroyed bv the pesta on his brother's farm on the Big Cottonwood river, six miles above Now-Ulm. The graashop lm made their appearauce there on Thursday last, and in two hours had devastated the whole crop, consisting of 48 acres of wheat that was out in ear, and would have yielded 25 bushels to the acre, oorn, oats, and potatoes— everything. Not even the grass and the leaves of the trees were left. Tho whole region in the south-west part of Brown and adjoining counties is totally destroyed, from Lake Hanska to the State line ; and the marauders were moving north-east every day, having mossed the Minnesota, going north, last week. Prof. Barnard also says they were quite numerous at Lake Crystaf, in Blue Earth county. Thursday last they invaded Mr. Barnard's farm in millions, coming down like a snow storm. They fly about half u mile high, and alight when they reach a favorable locality. Prof. Barnard says that these iu Brown county are not the same as hatched out in the vicinity of Worth iugton, which w-i-re the color of the soil. These are of a lighter color, with red wings, aud resemble those hatched iu Iow, as reported by travelers. They appeared to have fiowu a long distance, and moved very rapidly. The air is daily full of them from 9 or 10 A. M. to 3 or 4 r. u., during which Interval they continue to drop down upon the doomed country. Fears of a Famine In kenturky A correspondent writes to the Louis ville ('wtrirr-Journal from Jamestown as follows : " Here in southern Ken tucky we are on the eve of a famine wbicn threatens to be very serious, as well a* the western portion of Ken tucky. Last year the season was so ex ceedingly wet that there was scarcely a half crop raised, iu consequence of which our people are suffering much, and already several are reported to have starred to death, and inony others are living on bread alone. " Very early this season our farmers made vigorous efforts to pitch heavy crops, but owing to the protracted wet weather and high water were prevented from getting our heat lands in in due time, the rains continuing up to the 4th of May, since which time we have had no rain to wet the land. Wo have not even been able to raise any vegetables in onr gardens. The oat crop was a complete failure, as was also the hay crop, and a large amotiut of the corn is dead, siul the remainder is fast drying up. With all the rain that could fall it would not be possible to make au aver age of a barrel to the acre. As it is, we will not make five barrels of corn to the field. •' For some time onr people talked a good deal about losing their stock, but now they have lost alt hopes of that, and the only talk is. llow ahall we got bread and meat ? The wheat was mod erately good, but will all be consumed in a short time, and we will be left with out anything to sustain life. The Cum berland river is not navigable, uor will it be for six months, aud the nearest point to the railroad is forty miles. Onr people are without money, their horses and oxen so poor that but few of tbem could travel to do any hauling even if we were able to buy, hence we feel that we aro without hope. There mnst at least be twenty or twenty-five counties iu southern and western Kentucky just in the condition we are, and unless re lief can bo obtained from the outside, some hundreds of our people will starve to death." A dispatch from Louisville rays it is proposed to call on the Legislature for aid. A Trn-1 nousaml Dollar Bill. On a certain day, on a Pennsylvania railroad, a belle of a thriving Pennsyl vania town, the daughter of a wealthy lumber merchant, was traveling in the same car with a shrewd old citizen of her native town and an agreeable young gentleman from the West who tells the storv. Tiie latter had been talking to the belle ; but as night drew on and the Jouug lady grew drowsy, he gave up is seat to her ami placed himself beside the somewhat eyuical Pennsyl vauiau. The latter begun conversation by pointing to a high mountain past which they were whirling, anil said: "Yon see that mountain? Hix or eight years ago it was covered with as fine a forest as ever grew, and worth §IO,OOO And upward. Now, without a tree, covered with stumps, the land is scarcely worth a continental. The net produce of that mountain lies over there in that seat," aud he pointed to the recumbent belle ; " that is my cal culation. It has iu*t absorbed all of that lumber, which her father owned, to raise and educate the girl, pay for her clothes and jewelry, bring her out in society and maintain lier there. Some of you yonng men, if you were given your choice between the moun tain yonder as it now stands and the net produce on that seat, would take the net proilnce; but as for me, give me tho stumps." The London Boy. " I never get tired of studying the London boy," writes the Danbnry man. " Ho is always on the street, and al ways in the way. I never saw sneh a boy in any other eity. Ho is not quar relsome, not saney, not ad dieted to smoking, and 1 never heard one of them swear, even nnder the most favorable circumstances. To tell the truth, I never neard tliem say much of any thing. Ho iH a helpless youth, addicted to Btore windows, rubbing against build ings, and toppling over obstructions. He has a dreadful tendency to bo al ways backing up aguiust something, ana always missing it, to the detriment of his bones. Only they do not fall with sufficient force to break a bone. I have seen one of them slide from the side of a lamp-post, turn apart sum mersault, recover himself, hit up against tho post again, slip off tho curb, aud gradually get down on his back in the gutter—taking iu all some dozen seoonds to do it, whilo an American boy would go down and stave a hole iu the back of his head, aud make a doctor's bill of eighteen dollars in lees than ft ■wood." "NO. 411.'? A tuuvtct'i amij. "411?" " That's me, sir." " Let me see your arm." " It's all right, bir." "All right, is it? In my humble opinion it's as wrong as wrong can be." 411 looked down at tlie bruised flesh aud broken bones he had affirmed to t>e "all rigid" with a luslf contemptuous smile, aud then, resigning himself to the inevitable, laid quietly watching the white hands of tlie young doctor as he prepared splints, bandages, etc., and commenced the work of setting the bone, now rendered doubly difficult by the swelling of the bruised flesh. Tho light of the setting sun stole into the room, illuminating with a sudden glory the* bare walls and comfortless surroundings, and throwing iuto strong relief the two figures which gave life to the picture. The doctor's frauk, good humored face, slight easy figure, and sir of careless good-breeding, could not have been out of place under any cir cumstances ; but Ike other seeui-d strangely in unison with, and jet in contradiction to, his surroundings. His muscular frame might have served ass msilel for strength and beauty—a Her cules in prison dress! His hands, roughened and hardened by toil, bad beeu as slender and well-shaped aa the doctor's own. llis face, brouted by ex posure to sll weathers, was still high bred and refined —aquiline features, clear brave eyes, and, BIKJVC all, the clone-cropped hair of a convict. He had that air of reserve, totally distinct from rudeness, which ouly well-bred people possess, aud which impresses even the most vulgar and obtuse. Though the sensitive mouth tietrayed his delicate, nervous organization, nothing could be more stoical than the com|H>stire with which he bore the tor ture be was suffering. " Why on earth, man, don't yon say something or cry out ?" exclaimed the doctor, half impatiently. Noticing the gathering whiteness round his patient's lips, the doctor hastily |>oared something in a glass, and, bidding him drink it. went quick ly on with his work. After a few min utes' sileuee he glanced up suddenly. " What's thst ?" pointing to a small blue figure on the brawny wrist. " That ? Oh ! my crest. I did it when 1 was a boy," said the man indif ferently. " Your crest ?" " Did I say that ?" and a flush crept i over his face. " I must have been dreaming ; people do dream sometimes, don't they ?' The doctor did not answer, but look ed keenly at him, as he tnrncd away his head with a short, embarrassed laugh. •* What is vour name ?" "No. 411 - •• 1 don't mean that, I mean your name," persisted the doctor. ••Jim Brown," Dr. Harris laughed. * "Jim Brown! Why don't yon say Bill Scroggins ? One name would snit about as well as the other." ill frowned slightly. •• Why should I tell yon my name ?" •• I'm sure I don't know," was the an swer — unless because I want you to. That crest on your arm is very like my own. 1 thought perhaps we were re kfci* ••And if we were? Yon wouldn't own me?" I •' Why not ? I,ra not a bad fellow in mv way, neither do I think yon are ? Whv shouldn't I own you i" The man raised himself on his arm and looked searchingly in the doctor's face. " A convict ?" he said, slowly. "Well," said the doctor, dryly, "I don't sec much society except convicts, at present, and 1 can't say but what 1 like them as well as I do thos# who thiuk themselves a good deal better. I've found out it ian't always the worst that ore caught, by any means. I'm a ' radical,'you must know," he added, quaintly, " and very much disapproved of by the family." 411 looked out into the gathering darkuess for some minutes, and then said, quietly : '• Well, sir, if you care to hear a con vict's story, sit down awhile. I've never told it to any one, and I cfon't know why I should tell it to von ; but the mood's on me, and I might as well talk as think, maybe; anc then you've guessed my secret partly—at least, yon know I'm not Jita Brown "—and a smile flashed serosa his face. " How old do voii think I am?" he continued. Dr. Harris looked at the powerful frame of the man—at the strong, bard j lines in bis face. "Between forty and fifty, I should say ?" •' Thirty-six, yesterday. I was twen ty-four the day I was sentenced; a pleasant way of celebrating one's birth day, wasn't it? There was a lot of stuff in the papers about my * youth,* and mv lieingso • hardened.' Did they i think 1 was going to beg for mercy ? 1 not I ! I've been out here twelve years now, and escaped twice and been caught again; but 111 try it once more some time." " You ought not to tell me that," said the doctor, smiiiug. " Why rot ? They watch me all the time, anyway. Just give me some water, will yon? Thanks. Well, 1 ought to commence with my name, I suppose. It is Fslwanl Tracy. I was the so.nnd son of A Northumberland squire, whe had just enough money to kii p up the place for niy brother, and no more. A fine old place it was, and the only happv days 1 can look back to where spent tliere. That waa when I was boy— home for the holidays, eager about cricket and foot-ball, and to whom a gun aud the range of the rabbit-warren were perfect happiness. After a while, it was unpleasant enough. My brother —s lazy, good-looking fellow, who knew how to riile and to shoot, and only that—was tho idol of my mother and sisters. All deferred to liim except little Mary, my pet, who nsed to follow me round like a kitten. Poor little girl! I wonder if she over thinks of me now. Younger sons in a poor family have a hard timo of it. I only wonder more don't go to the bad than do. Brought up us gc ntlemen, t hey are then thrown upon their own resources, to live by their wits, either in some beg gerly profession, or as hangers-on, where there are many rich relations. They must put up with being snubbed and thrown over, whenever they come in tho way—mailo use of nuii then cast aside ; at least, such was my experience. I was proud and passiouate, aud so felt these things more thau others, I dare say. I wanted to go into the army, bnt my father said ho couldn't afford it—l " would l© always getting into debt," etc.— and so I was apprenticed to a London barrister—a great, pompons man, whom I cordially detested before a month was ont. He had away of ag gravating me whenever wo came in con tact, thAt nsed to mako me long for an excuse to pitch him down stairs. I be lieve in presentiments. 1 know that man would injure me aorno day. I saw more trickery and underhand dealing while in that office than I had ever seen in my life before. Mr. Pierson was a mau of tact, not talent. He had gained MVtrtl good cases, which maa* hit Terms: S-2.00 it Yoar, in Advance. reputation, and lie liad away of making people believe that if black wai not juat white, it was certainly gray, which proved very useful to him. '• 1 was about twenty-two when 1 went into Ketit for a few' week*, partly on business for Mr. I'ieraon, and partly to visit an uncle of mine. Am I tiring you with thia long story ?" " Not at all, Tracy ; go on." 411 started at the unfamiliar name, which the doctor slightly emphasised. His breath came quicklv, and hia voice was husky when he spoke again : '• Would you think, now, that a man oould hear hi* owyi name so seldom that when it was spoken a* you spoke mine it could make the past come back like a great wave, almost blotting out the present ? I haven't heard my name for more than ten years," he went on, musingly. " I don't wouder it Bounds strange to me. It was in the summer when I went to Kent; the time for ' falling in love,' aa it is called, and of course 1 did it. I don't wonder at my self, even now, when I remember all that has passed. We were thrown very much together. Lucy was an orphan living with a rich maiden aunt, whose place adjoined my uucle'a. I had al ways a fondness for playing the part of a protector, and abe was a clinging, dependant little thing, with long golden curls and a delicate pink-aud-white daisy face. I had never eared fur any girl before, and from the first I loved her madly. It'a the ' old, old story,' and I needn't make a fool of myself again by telling it to you. Before I went back to town we had exchanged rings, and she had promised to love me through eternity. A lengthy eternity it proved ! " Our engagement was to remain a recret until I should beootne a great lawyer, and then I was to claim her. This was Lucy's idea. I wanted to sj>eak to her aunt, but she begged me not, giving a dozen different reasons for my silence. I believe even then she thought it best not to bind herself too closely, but 1 never suspected this, for with all my faults 1 had alwaya been perfectly honest and truthful. In the winter, Mr. Piersou told me that the business 1 had !>en attending to had now to be completed, and that be was going down himself. I was of course very tuitions to go, but be did not give me the cbanoc. Lucy met me at a couple of dinners, and from what she said I knew he had been very attentive to her. He was a good-lookiug man, about 40, and oould make himself verv agreeable when he choose to do so. 1 wrote to Lucy immediately, telling her what I thought of him. Khe replied, accusing me of being jealous, and say ing she was sure I was prejudiced against Mr. Piersou, who had spoken very highly of me, and to whom I found she* had confided the whole story.of our engagement. 1 was very angry, and wrote rather harshly to her, for I re member she told me ' I did not love her an I once did.' That was our first quar rel, and was soon made up, and for a few weeks we corresponded as usual. Mr. Pieraon returned to London, but went back again to Kent in a week or two. He said he was collecting evi dence tor an important case. " Soon I noticed that Lucy's letters grew shorter and shorter, and finally one csme, saying that she ' had been think ing over* our foolii-h engagement, and as there was no prospects of my being able to support her, she had come to the conclusion that for the sake of us both it had better be broken.' " I know every word of that cool, heartless letter now. One remetnem liers such things. Very soon after I heard of her engagement to Mr. Pier son. I was age itleman, and he was a snob ; but he had money, and 1 hadn't" " What's a gentleman bom? Is it abillin'ts an' pence ?" quoted the doctor, softlv. " fell? What's that?" " Only a quotation from the York shire Farmer. Oo on." "Well, of course, I was furious ; but what good did that do me ? I thought if I only had money, f would find some means of revenge ; but money was jnst what I hadn't got. About that time, I met a man calling himself St John. He was clever and well educated, and seemed to read all my wild, reckless longings at a glance. Be led me on from bad to worse, till it ended in forgery; then be turned king's evi dence, and I was locked up. 1 was always very strong, and, finding one of the bars loose, 1 wrenched it out, and dropped from my window one dark night and escaped. On my way to the sea, 1 met this man—St John. I might have got off if 1 could have let him alone ; but I couldn't I stopped him ; he tanntcd me with my disgrace ; tAld me that Mr. Pieraon liml known of the plan laid to ruin mo. • The young lady throwing yon over was a prime trump in our hand,' he added, with a leer. I warnel him to be silent; but be, as if blinded to his danger, exasperated roe in every way possible. I grappled with him, and, remembering a trick I had learned at school, soon threw him. My hands were on his throat A half minute more, and the earth would have been rid of one sordid wretch ; but his cries bail been heard by some men in a neighboring field, and 1 was overpow ered. This man—a ruined gamester, once a gentleman—had changed mo from an honest, honorable lad, to a felon, and then, disregarding the • honor' which is said to exist even ' among thieves,' threw me over to ssve himself. I would be content to give Ave vears of my life—nay, more, I would be content to add five years to my life—oould it purchase that one half minute of which I was robbed. " My family disowued mo, and made no attempt oven to procure counsel for me. All forsook me except little Mary, from whom 1 got a tear-stained letter incloaing a fire-pound note, her quar terly allowance, ami telling me that she would never forget me. My father had forbidden any of them to write to me, or even mention my name ; bnt Mary had disobeyed him. 4 lt can't be wrong to write to yon, dear,' ebe said, 4 for yon are my own brother, always." 44 There" was a flaw in the evidence which my counsel took advantage of; but Mr. Piersou worked against him privately, collecting evidence for the crown, and I was convicted. Heaven grant there may not bo many poor wretches who leave old England with the footings which I left it. If I had had the opportunity, I would have put an cud to my miserable existence. I waa taken in a cab, strongly guarded, from the iail to the wharf. Wo passed one of tin* parks on our way. I had been in prison Boine time, aud the fresh green grass, the trees and flowers had never looked so beautiful as now, when I knew 1 was looking on them for the last time. 1 thonght of the hedge-rows white with blossoms, in Northumber land ; the larks singing overhead ; Mary, perhaps, in our favorite nook in the orchard, weeping bitter tears as a last good-fry to 4 ner handsome Teddy,' as she fondly called me. No wonder my heart swelled when I thonght of thoso who in tho sight of God were guilty of my crime. 44 As wo wont down the dock, a child passed us with a bunch of cowslips. Jnst two years before, I bad gathered them for Lucy iu the Kentish lanes. Tho child looked np wistfully, as I passed ; presently she ran after us aud Bat her cowslips in my hand. That was it drop too much in the oup already NO. 81. foil; to save my life 1 could not hare k'-pt back the tears which rolled down my cheeks. I waa handcuffed, but one of the guards thrust a handkerchief into my Itaiid, with a few cheering worda gruffly aaid. The touch of aynipalhy, and the child'# gift aared roe from utter despair. That waa the iaat I aaw of Kugiatid. My life here haa been the mdc, day after day, except the few nights I apent in the tmah, the two time# I got ofT. They (uoat)y let me alone now. I keep by myself, and I've newer told a word of this !-fore. I bad almoat forgotten I waan't Jim Brown,' until to-day. Did yon hew how I hurt my arm f" " One of the men told me you were helping to raiae a heavy atone, and that you let the lever alip in aome way, and ao got your arm croahed." " That'a true, ao far aa it goea; a gang of ua were working on the road when a carriage paused. I looked up aa 1 stepped out of the way, and who do you think I aaw f Lucy and her bua baud ! Hue waa looking juat the same aa ei cr, only prouder, I waa ao neer I could have touched her dreea. Hhe looked calmly at me—l waa only a con vict, covered with the duet from her carriage wluela. If abe bad reoognixed me, the oolor would have faded a little from her pink cbeeka, I think. I wonder if ahe remembers the letter I wrote her, before I waa transported ? I told her some home trutha then. She kuows who to blame for my wasted-—- wefrae than wasted—life. " Twelve year* didn't ma much to me. I looked after the carriage like one stauued. The lever slipped from my hand—yoo aaw my arm. I didn't think of it, until I lound 1 eonldn't lift it. Mr. Pieraon has got some high ap pointment here, aome one said. Of oourae his wife will be feted and flat tered. I wonder how she would like to be reminded of that cummer in Kent How would she look if I should atop her carriage, and remind ber of the time she swore to lore me forever, or how often her bright head has rested on my shoulder. I can feel the thrill of her soft lips yeton my cheek. There, that's ail. Do yon believe in justice f 1 don't The cause of evil should be attacked ; now, it is only the victim. That woman is more guilty to-day than I. She drove me mad—tad yet she rides by iu her carriage. r< •.j.t-ru-.t and admired ; while I, in my prison drees, can never be an v thing bat what I am -411." The Whole Mess. Among the adventures recorded of the Irish brigade in Franoe in early days, one of the most amns>ng was an occurrence in the time of the Regent Orleans, in fconor of whose birthday a grand masqueraue was given in Paris. It was a high class affair; tickets were a double louis d'or each ; all the rank and beanty of Paris were assembled round the Regent, and a costly and lux urious supper crowned the attractions of the night While the entertainment was proceeding one of the Prince's suite approached and whispered to him j "It is worth your Royal Highness" while to step into the sapper rooms ; there is a yellow domino there, who is the most extraordinary cormorant ever witnessed ; he is a prodigy, your High ness—he never stops eating and drink ing, and the attendants say, moreover, that lie has not done so for some honra." Qiii Royal Highness vent aocordiag -IT, and sure enough there vu a yellow domino, ■ wallowing everything aa rav enously aa if he had onlv just begun. Haiaed' piea fell before nira, pheasant* and quaiia seemed to fly down his throat in a little oovy ; the wine he drank threatened a scarcity, whatever might he the next vintage. After watching him for some time, the Duke acknowledged he was a won der, and laughingly left the room ; bnt shortly afterwtra, on passing through another, he saw the yellow domino again and as actively at work aa ever, devastating the dishes everywhere, and emptying the champagnehottles as rap idly as they were brought to him. Perfectly amazed, the Dake at last could not restrain his curiosity. " Who," he asked "is that insatiate ogre that threatens such annihilation to all the labors of our oooka f Accordingly, one of Uie suite was dis patched to him. " His royal highness, the Duke of Orleans, desires the yellow domino to numaak." But the domino begged to be ex cused, pleading the privilege of mas quer-ale. •' There is s higher law," replied the officer; "the royal order must be obeved." " Well, then," answered the incog nito, "if it must be so, it must," and, unmasking, exhibited the ruddy vis go of an Iriah trooper. " Why, in the name of Polyphemus!" exclaimed the Itegeut, as he advanced to him, who and what are you ? I have seen vou eat and drink enough for a dozen men at least, and yet you seem aa empty as ever." "Well, then," said the trooper, "since tho saycret must come out, Jdase vour royal highness, I am one of Hare's Horse—that's the guard of honor to-night—and when oar men waa ordered out we dubbed our money to buy a ticket, and agreed to take our turn at the supper table, turu and turn about" " What 1" exclaimed the Duke; •' the whole troop coming to supper V " Oh, it's asy, plase your highness ; sure one domino would do for all of us —if ache tuk it iu turn. I'm only the eighteenth man, and there's twelve more of us to some." The loud laughtei of the jovial Duke, probably the heartiest he had had for a long time, was the response to this ex planation, followed by a louia d'or to the dragoon, and a promise to keep his "saycret" till the entire troop had supped. Land Patents Uncalled For. The. Western Land-thcncr contains the following : There are remaining in the General Land Office undelivered more than 300,000 patents for agricultural land. Of this sum 75,000 are from IllinouL and nearljr aa many fom Indiana ana Missouri. Among them are patents aigued by Monroe and by and for every other President up to Linooln's time. The cause for this accumulation of pa tents is in the fact that many land owners believe the duplicate receiver's reoeipt is sufficient evidence of title to their land. It onght not to be re garded. Entries are being constantly canceled by the General Land Office for informality, and if the address of an interested applicant iB not known at the local offioe, as too often is the ease, he or the party to whom he has sold his land will some day be much astonished to find another person holding a Gov ernment patent for his property. A HANDSOME PRIZE.— John Hodge, the well-known secretary of the Garg ling Oil Co., of Lockport, N. Y., has just given a gold medal as a prize to the gTaduatiug class of the Union School of his city. A large number of pupils competed for the Hodge medal, wliioh was won by Miss Anna I Buck, of Lookport. The act is like ! John Hodge, who is always doing I something commendable, Bund Wfwrs, Bow iff • Ufa Uu love! Throe Toojra of poto lU*. oat armwed mo from my ovarthrww , Throw imam waabed wttb ahow're of ooooM roto— Tfatoo wiutoro whltotxed wtlh thoril.nl wow. Have toft mo comfortless, and liko to ono Who ouimli half oonoeiooo to a crowded street, And ooohii.it far hka'mam'rj tfaot to oao, Pargets tbo purpose that should glide hlo foot., 0 whore to Pity, timt o moid should my three* thin** niif.lt oud blight elite to ploy t And whore to iUoron. that a moo should eling To dead dreomo and dototoono of hto youth j la Ufa ao email that 1 may ooly •> Oio aong, and dio heeattoo of one untruth t Ho, I am young to Ood'a great wlidornaao Of lioantlao , why thou faint npoc tho brink! 1 will go forward for now happtnoaa. And to tho eoarcih forgot the broke* link, forget t Ido not forgot myoelf indeed. To think that ftoaoon ebon'd hare power to plinad On auch a (joeet bow Bnd Promethean .parks, . With paataoi loohad up and tho geld key loot; I ahoold nil*take ail woothoroooko for larka. And meadow mtot of oninmor morn for Croat I cannot hid one-half my baort bo ttffl. And if I oowid, it to not to my power; A matd to gratify bar own aweet will, Aoked for my tore to wear it aa a flower - 0 what a hope of )oyi What noad to aay 1 gave it, and oho long tho thing away. Item* of Interest. Second Advent tot a now aay. Jan. I, 1901. Romantic school giria now apeli "Jelly" with* fluel M - H There wore twenty brides ata Niagara hotel the ooma night reocntly. Batter down 1 ee the font remarked to himself when he aaw the farmer a wife crossing the field. An Indiana woman, eighty-six years old, died in twenty minutes after being stung by a honey bee the other day. The New Hampshire Patriot thinks the prospects of the apple op in that State merit the appellation of magnifi cent " It ooatalees to take a weekly paper," argues the Cape Ann Advertiser, a diligent hen can earn in a year at the market prfee of eggs." Street boys have a wonderful secret. They know how to steal and eat green cherries without being eeoght by either the policeman or the cholera. The grange in Indiana numbers 100,- 000 members, and in the year pest have saved 81.300.000 to them in the pur chase of goods sad implements. It is said that the leaves of the com mon walnut tree placed over doors, windows, mantels, or in wreaths or bunches about the house, will drive flies away. it is reported that the next grand groveWf Druids of the State of New York has appointed Rochester as its meeting place. The convention will accordingly meet on the find Friday in Jane, 187fC An A lien town toed swallowed a fire fly, and the ChrtmiaU says : ** While the latter was exploring the interior of the toad, the light of nis lantern was visible to ouUuTsrs through the akin of the detested reptile." "Yen ought to acquire the faculty of being at home in the beet society," said a fashionable aunt to an honest nephew. " I manage that easily enough," replied the nephew, " by staying at home with my wire and children." The Detroit Free Pre** says H takes three months ,to prepare for a fashion able wedding in Baltimore. That's nothing. A young lady in Boston has been twenty-seven years about it and the cake ain't ordered yet Every well-supplied hotel or res taurant in the oonntry has on its wine list Johannisbcvgcr, Yqum;, and Yenve Cliquet; yet the vineyards of these three together would scarcely supply a single wine-drinking city. A Cincinnati reporter sara that there is something grand in the sight of a pair of runs way-horses, but the Detroit Prtc Prt-t* believes that a good deal depends on whether a man is on a fence or trying to climb over the end board of the wagon. A Vermont man experimented with a new wash for killing sheep-tacks. He had twenty-seven sheep when he ap plied the "preparation, and twenty-one ■n saars and six living ones whan ha got through. He wont take any mora of that patent wash in hia'n. A lady writer points out the fad, m worthy of notioe, that " while the men who commit! suicide are almost always unmarried, the women are married or widowed. This leads to the inference ' that, while men cannot live without women, women And life unbearable with men." A vhocVing accident has happened on [ the Portsmouth ram porta. The sunset 1 gun was just fired, when a little fellow I named Scutt, aeven yearn of age, ran : across the muzzle, and received the charge in his face, one aide of which I waa blown away. Death was, it need acarely be said, inatantaneoaa. A Maine rogue lima been selling kegs supposed to hold ten gallons of liquor each. A pint of rum waa sealed up in ! side each of the kegs and so placed that, out a small cork, the pur ' chaser could teat the liquor, but where there was a pint of liquor there were nine gallons and aeven pints of water separated from it A bill before the the British House of Commons provides that workmen in jured in the course of their labor may recover damages of their employers, and the* the family of a workman killed at his employment msy reoover a sum not greater than one year's wages of the person killed. The bill excepts all em ployers who do not employ over fifty hands. The St Louis bridge is heavy with masonry for the support of' two road wavs, one above the other, the lower one being fitted for carrying large rail road train* on doable tracks, while the upper one is laid with four tracks for street oars. It is nearly a mile m length, fifty feet wide from balustrade to balustrade, and cost about eleven miliiou dollars. It waa begun in the early part of 1868. The tender young poet who began "I kissed her under the silent stars, and whom the newspaper to which he sent the poem represented as beginning, " I kicked her under the cellar stairs, appeared before the editors and pub lishers assembled in Convention at Lockport reoently, and preferred the request that the name of the room from which typographical errors emanate might be changed forthwith. He wants it called the discomposing room. Dick Whitehead, a horee trainer, is pressing a peculiar claim upon the Chicago Common Council. A horse was bought for SWO to haul the oounty am bulance. He strayed away, and waa taken by a man, who placed him in Whitehead's hands to train and develop into a trotter. Whitehead got the horse bo he could do a mile in about 3:20. Then the improved animal was replev ined by the oounty, and sold for 8680. Whitehead submits that he is entiUed to some portion of the profit realized by the oounty on the horse dicker. A Useful Crow. John Snyder, of Virginia, owns a crow which serves as a substitute for dogs, cats, and all other domestic ani mals. He destroys every frog about the well; allows no mouse a chance for hia life; drivae awey baWka from the poultry, and bids fair to aot as the best squirrel dog in the country. He readi ly spies tne squirrel, either uponi the fence or on the trees, and, witn a natural antipathy to the squirrel tribe, his shrill, keen note is readily detected by bis owner, accompanied by rapid darts up and down, and the owner is thus led to the game. The most re markable feature about the crow fs that he generally keep five or si* days' ra tions ahead of time, and well oonoMted.