Hie Light at Home.
Th* light si home, how hr r' t it 1 earn*
When •nftig *li*,!e* sivrmd n fall ;
An 1 from the ltu, p fr it ftU-ttr*.
To lev*, arxtr*t * .Icemfoit !l ;
When wearied with llio toil* . f .Ut,
And strife for glory, gold nt ftuie.
How *wei-t to sock the quiet <vv.
Where 'oving Hjmi will linp onr name
Around the light at home !
The light at home how still at .1 tweet
It peeps from yonder ootiege dxir,
Tlie weaty isborer to greet,
When the rough toile of day ate o'er !
S* t ia the eoul that doet not know
The blessings that it" team* impart,
The oheerfnl hope* and j • lltat (o
And lighten up the tiearieet v .eait
Areund the light At v ,oine.
" llaitiott.''
ITi. Rzmuo Mime, Non-rnr-s Mexico.)
tVmik and nchnsW* in tun
Prone and •prswluu; on la- fcv,
Atom like brute tliati any mau
Alive or dead.
By his great pump out of gear,
Xjiv the peon engineer.
Waking only just lo lsear.
Overhea I.
Angry tones that called hi* name,
Oath* and ene of hitter blame
Woke to h*ar all tin#, anj waking, turned and
fled
"To 'lie man who'll bring 1* me,"
Cries inlendaut tlarry l.ee,
ilsrr. l.ee, the English fotvmaa of the uune -
" bring the sot alive or dea 1,
I will give him to you," he said.
" Fifteen hundred p down.
Just to set the r*>c*l * crown
Underneath Uus heel of urine
Siuce but d< a:h
lteserves the man whose deed,
be it vrce or wan! of heed.
Stops the pomp* that give us breath
Stops the pnmpe that suck the death
Prom the poio:.ed lower level* of tlie miue
So one answer*.!, for a cry
From the shaft rose up on high ;
Aud ahaffltng, ecranihhiig. tumbhug flow be
low.
Came the tutners each, the holder.
Mouutiug ou the weaker * alioulder.
Grappling, clingtug to their ho!J or
Letting go,
A* the weaker gasped and fell
From the ladder to the well -
To the jvtsoued pit of hell,
Down below!
'To the man who set* them free,"
Cried the foreman. Harry l.ee.
Harry l.ee. the English f, reman f lire mine,—
" Bring* them out and sets ilu-ui free,
I will give that man," uq he.
" Twice that sum. who with a ro|K>
Face to face with PeaUl shall e. [>e.
Let htm c,<me who dare* to hope
" Hokl your peace'.' some one replied.
Star.duig by die foreman * side;
" The'.e ha* one already gene whoe'er he be!"
Then they held their breath with awe.
Fulling on the rope, and saw
Fataung figures reappear.
On the black rope swinging clear.
Fastened by some skilful hand from below .
Till a score the level gamed.
And but one alone remained.
He the hero and the la*:.
He whoee akilful hand made fas'.
The long line that brought them back to hope
and cheer!"
Hagg mrd. gaspm r. down dropped he
At the feet of Harry lev
Harry Lee. the English for. man of the mine ;
" 1 have come," he gasped. " to claim
Both rewards. Senor. my name
Is Ramon'
I'm the drunken engineer—
I'm ihe coward, by that sign,"
, He fell over, by that sign,
bead as stone !
—/.'ret Bar;*.
SPONGE-CAKE.
Lottie Hanscom eat on the back
porch of her mother's house. A basket
of pease half shelled was beside her,
and she was abstractedly tossing empty
pods at the heavy-headed poppies in
the garden border. When the time for [
summer boarders came Lott.e had to
be " second girland a very jrquaiit
little housemaid she looked, with her
black cnrls pushed into a net, and her
bright calico skirt fastened back. She
was humming in a low tone, and listen
ing between times to the gay laughter
of the group on the front piazza, where
three young ladies were embroidering
with Berlin wools and two gentlemen
lounged on the steps smoking.
The air she was humming was a sad
one, but she felt merry enough. It is
true that she was a little tired with her
morning's work, and a little indolent
because of the heat of the day. It is
true, too, that she was conscious of n
faint twinge of envy when Mr. Daven
port's barouche was drawn up to tin
house by a pair of pinticg homes, and
its owner, leaping to the gr uml, as
sisted a lady companion to ahght.
Lottie would have liked to go riding
in a barouche with—well, with some
one who was not Mr. Davenport. It is
a pity the " some one" in question
could not have seen the crimson deepen
in her cheeks as she pulled the basket
of pease toward her and commeucrU
the song over again :
" Te banks and braes o' bonne Boon,
How can ye bloom sac fresh ana fair ?"
A step and voice behind her arrested
the next words on her lips. Turning,
she saw Mr. Davenport, who had come
through the hall, and stood looking
down on her, with his hat in one hand
and a half-finished cigar in the other.
'* All the birds seem to be singing on
this side the house. Miss Lottie."
" Yes," was the demure reply. !
" Silas says there are two oriole nests
in those elms. They're very pretty
singers."
Mr. Davenport did not see the mis
chief in Lottie's downcast eyes. He
was more amused than vexed by her
literal answer.
" Will you allow me to sit down here
a while ? Perhaps they may go on
singing."
Lottie made no objections, only
shelled pease very vigorously. When
Mr. Davenport had seated himself,
thus bringing his hair, which was al
ready beginning to be streaked with
gray, on a level with the top of the
basket, she did cast a sly glance of ad- ;
titration at the heavy gold chain at his
side and the rings that adorned the
hand with which he was wiping his
heated fa#.
"It's excessively warm. Can't I help
yon with those pease, Miss Lottie ? It
is a pity to stain such pretty lingers as
yours."
Lottie blushed, more at his glance
than his words, and replied, hastily,
•' Oh, no, certainly not. I'm used to
" But vou don't like house-work, do
you ? You'd as lief somebody else
would shell the pease, and so forth.
Eh ?"
"Why, yes. That's of course."
"Ah! I'm glad you're frank with
me. Do you know I've been curious
about you often, when we've all been
enjoying ourselves, and you've been
working away hard like a good little
Cinderella? Do you know I've actual
ly worn a path under the kitchen win
dows trying to get a peep at you."
" No," said Lottie, with a frank look
of surprise; but something in Mr.
Davenport's answering gaze suddenly
caused her to bend over the basket, to
hide the vexed color that burned on her
cheek.
" Miss Lottie !"
The voice was almost a whisper, and
a hand softly tried to draw away the
basket of pease.
" Well, sir?"
" Pat these away a while, aLd let me
talk to you,"
" Why, I'm listening ! I sha'n'thave
the pease ready for dinner !"
Nevertheless, she let him put the
basket one side, only saying, with a
nervous attempt at a laugh,
" There ! now are
Mr. Davenport deliberately took the
basket's place at her side, and, bending
his dark, bearded face very near to her
own, answered,
lv I I\TZ, Ivlitor nnl 1 Vtprit>t<r.
VOL. Ml.
" No, not yet. How can Ibe satis
fled. Miss Lottie, when you show so
i plainly that you don't like me T"
His hearer confusedly disclaimed thin
conclusion.
" Why, Mr. Daveuport, I 1 Of
course 1 do !"
" Well, 1 don't want you to like me.
1 don't like you."
Her puzzled and somewhat resentful
glance made him smile, lie continued.
In 'tiding so near that a fringe of hair
brushed Lottie's curls:
"1 believe you know already what 1
mean. You little coy, black-eyed
sprite, 1 lore you. Didn't you guess
it liefore 1 told yon ?"
The garden, tiie overhanging vines,
and the skv whirled before Lottie's
eyes. Lovelier? the rich Mr. Daveu
port, alio had more money than lie
knew what to do with ! Love her ?
She was Rk> mueh amazed to resist
when he touk her hands in his, or to
comprehend the disconnected sentence
which continued his declaration. The
first words she heard distinctly were
uttered by lips that almost touched her
cheek :
" Will yon marry me?"
" I—l SomelxHly will see us,"
j she said, struggling in vain to free her
self.
" That isn't answering my question.
Poor little stained lingers ! they shall
never do any more hard work. How
would you like to bo a rich lady,
Lottie ?"
He saw the quick sparkle in her eyes.
Ah, how beautiful ! To dress, to drive,
j to dance, to see a thousand thing* she
had heard of ! She let the clasping arm
j draw her closer and closer,.and the
bearded lips touch hers once. The
chimp of marigolds iu the garden
gleamed like a prophecy of the wealth
she might possess if she won 1. No
more ealiooes and kitchen-worlf; but,
instead
•• Are you never going to tell me
yes ?"
Homo answer that Lottie managed to
utter earned her so many kisses that
she struggled again to rise.
" Let me go, please 1" she entreated,
scarlet with shame.
" Well, I want to put this ring on
your finger. There ! and now—"
An approaching footstep startled
them. Mr. Davenport rose hastily, and
Lottie, too, sprang to her feet. Hunau,
the house-maid, appeared in the door
way, and Mr. Davenport turned ab
ruptly down the gardeu path.
•• Be them peas shelled, Miss Lot
tie?"
" No, but almost. What time is
it ?"
"Eleven and a quarter."
Lottie went to work in serious earn
est, despite her excitement; but she
was fated to have another interruption,
in the shape of a tall, blue-eyed youth,
' who came up the garden path with sev
eral fish dangling from a rod.
" There !" he said, dropping these
on the piazza, and throwing him*. If
down in the place Mr. Davenport had
just vacated, "the,'me lor Susan, if
she wants them. I've had good luck
this morning. I suppose the fishes
wanted to celebrate my last holiday.
Don't you think so. Miss Lottie ?"
" Yoar last holiday !" was the blank
rejoinder. " What ilo you mean ?"
"I've got to go back to the city to
morrow. Two of the clerks are sick.
Ho for cashmeres and mnsliu again J"
I He looked np at Lottie rather ex
-1 pectantly, hopinc for some expression
of regret; but i.> taw rd did she say.
A sadden pallor h id .vj laced thelWh
on her face, however. The heavy seal
ring that Mr, Davenport had placed on
her fiuger most inopportunely slipped
off just here, fell from her lap, and
rolled along the step slowly. The new
comer picked it up, changed color as
. his eyes fell upon it, but merslv said,
| as he handed it back.
" You have a new ring, haven't you ?"
" Ye-yes."
He watched her as she hastily push
ed it on again ; then said, rather indig
nantly :
" Yon haven't told me whether yon're
sorry I'm going or not."
" Of course I'm sorry, Mr. Willard,"
was the reply, in stitlcd tones ; for Lot
tie was bending over another handful
j of pods.
"'Of courso !' Is that all? Well,
that's the way with women. A man be
lieves a woman will perhaps think
kindly of him when he is gone, will
perhaps regut his departure from her,
so he regrets it himself : and she tells
him almly, why 'of course,' she is
sorry!"
Lottie was making sad work with the
pease. Bpite of all she could do, a lit
tle quiver of the lips betrayed her agi
tation as she rescinded hurriedly,
" Whv, I mean it. What—what oan'l
say but iu-t that—that I'm sorry ?"
' A ui y< u call me Mr. Willard."
" II irry, then!" with an apprehen
sive glance down the garden path,
j " Lottie, I believe yoti have made
a vow not to look at me. Do put those
con—l mean those pease—out of the
way !"_
" I can't ! —yon mustn't ! There,
now ! see what you've done !" cried
Lottie, in real distress, as an unguarded
movement sent the basket and its con
! tents rolling down the steps.
" I'll pick np every p-a if you'll sit
still five minutes and talk bo me. Lot
tie, now te 1 me truly are you sorry I'm
going ? Shall you ever want b> see mi
when I'm miles away from this little
j town, back in New York ?"
" Oh, don't, don't ! How can yon
botlu rme so? Indeed, I must pick up
| the pease this minute 1"
The tears rolling down tho round
cheeks were sufficient answer; but,
man-like, Harry persisted.
" I don't see bow I bother ycu. It's
only a simple question ; but I know
what the real answer is—yon don't care
a straw 1 I'm only a poor clerk, and
there are plenty of rich widowers in the
world."
"Oh, Harry!"
This time Lottie sobbed outright,
and so piteously that Harry was con
quered.
" I ought to be ashamed of myself, I
know I had ! Don't cry ; please don't
cry, dear. If you knew half how sorry
I am myself—how it seems to me I
never can go away from you—you
wouldn't blame me ; you'd forgive rue
if lam a brute ! You do care about
me, don't yon, Lottie ?"
No answer, but unrestrained sobs and
mute resistance as he tried to take her
hand.
" Lottie !" There was a whole vol
ume of reproach in the one word.
" Oh, don't! don't 1 You mnsn't
talk to mo any longer."
"And you won't answer me?"
No reply.
" And you don't love me ?"
Silence still.
Suddenly his arm stole around Lot
tie's waist, and the hidden face was
lifted and scanned by a pair of blue
eyes.
" Lottie, do you love me or not ?"
" I—l don't know. I mean I don't —
I can't— You mustn't talk to me so."
' Why not?"
'• Because I—l mnstshell the pease."
" What in the world is the matter
with yon ?"
" Nothing," said Lottie, freeing her
self desperately, as the odor of a cigar
was wafted toward them, and the top
of a beaver hat became visible at the
extreme end of the garden walk. "Go
away—oh, do go away 1"
THE CENTRE REPORTER
" I'll go when voav'e answered. It
in a little thing enough to ask. Just
Nov it sor no. I toll von 1 love you ;
you know I do. I'm njw ->r matt, but 1
eau make mv wife comfortable, anil I'm
certain I can make her happy. Lottie,
1 w in -uiro you oared for we this morn
ing ; it you ray you don't, I novor
ahull be happy *ga u. Say yo or no."
What Isolde moant to anawor n hard
to toll. Mi Davenport came into > tow
auiLh'tilv, tuul hor mothor'a voice
sounded (rout the kitchen,
" I. dtie ! Lottie! where are thoae
{lease ?"
She tore her hands a*ay, and sprang
down the ateps, wayitig, hastily and
contradictorily,
" No, no ; certainly. Yc*. iu a min
ute."
Without a word more, Harry picked
up the |H-ase (or her the work of full
five mmiltes set the basket oil the
porch, and walked away. Ten minutes
later the pease were dually shelled and
put ou the kitchen table, but Lottie
was no w here to Ik found. She was
locked in her chamber. The seal ring
had been tossed indignantly on the
thaw, and its uew owner was crying us
it her heart would t'fvak.
Half that long summer ufteruoou she
staid shut up, too miserable to face
any comment, Uki hopeless to see any
way out of the trouble she had brought
np-.ii herself; for if she had said "no"
t-> Mr. Davenport and "yes" to Harry
YYillard, she would have been a happy
gul. What was there to do but iaoe
the consequences ? She might unsay
tlie yes, but never the no ; uud yet if
she were to write to Harry—if she were
to tell him she never meant it ! There
was still a little of his holiday left i(,
indeed, he did not let his anger hurry
htm away.
The sunshine of mid-afternoon was
slanting in on the faded our{H-t and Yel
low wash stand as Lottie hastily bathed
her eyes and pulled a wntiug-ilesk to
ward her. It slanted more aud more
from the west as she sat considering,
perplexedly biting the end of her pen,
writing ami re-writing aud tosstug and
tossing aside tiny cream-tinted sheet*
of pa{>er, until the table was littered
with beginnings, and only one sh < t
was left iu the box. This she filially
took up despairingly, aud wrote the
date and the commencement :
" Mr diak Hauky. —l don't know how
to write this to you, and I am very
much ashamed to take back what 1
said, but 1 never meant to say it. I
had to, because Mr. I>avenjK>rt was
coming, and that was lit* ring I had ou
my finger, and he Lud just a>krd me to
marry him, and 1 had said ye.s, because,
you kti >w, 1 i> -u rich, and I thought
it would be nice to be a lady. 1 don't
know what made me sav yes, tor 1
don't love him, and Ido love yuti. 1
am so sorry I said what I did. You'll
forgive me, won't y now you know
that I really don't care for any body
but vou ? Please ! " LorrtE."
As she sat looking at this rather
crude production of hers a difficulty
occurred to her. How should she send
it ? Carry it t-> the post-office, and let
the post-mistre-s, who ha 1 known her
fn m a baby, discover that she had
written to rry Wtllard? Never.
Drop it into the jH>st-box ? No, for the
handwrittiug would IK-tray her, and the
whole town would hear of it. Could
she give it to Harry herself? No, not
that! Or give it to Hasan to give him?
Worse yet. Thoroughly perplexed aud
disheartened, Ix>ttio fell a prey to In r
own fears. If Harry hail tlie letter, he
might be disgusted bv her forwardness,
or else too mueh displeased to forgive
her at all. IVrhaps it was unlady like
to think of sending the letter, and yet,
if she did not seu.i it, Harry would go
a wav.
A miserable half hour of indecision
followed, at the end of which she t >--ed
all the scattered sheet* in a heap into
her writting-desk, locked it, and then
cried w:tii renewed abandon. Ascrus
of sharp raps on the door and a voice
by no means gentle roused her.
" Lottie ! I say. Lottie ! For good
ness' sake, what are you about ? Here
it's after our, and no cake for supper,
and Mr. Willard g< iug in the sit o'clock
train ' Come right down stairs, snd
don't let us have any more dawrjliug 1
Come ! there's no time to spare."
How Lottie ever got into the kiteh
en, and in what manner she contrived
to begin In-r cake-making, she never
knew. Ilurry going at six ! Sho wa*
snch a child that his going away
so< mod to her to end everything finally
between them. She should never see
him again ! Over and over she said it
to herself a* she mechanically weighed
the flour and the sugar for sponge
eaki, beat Iter egg-q and commenced to
mix the ingredients. A great many
ti ira fell into that cake, nnd they so
blinded her that she did not sec her
mother ut ber elbow, oh she was drop
ping it int > the pans, until a sharp
voice startled her :
"lyttie, what lias como over yon ?
You haven't put a bit of paper in the
bottom of those pans ! It would have
burned for certain, and hero it i# almost
fivo. Hurry ! run and get some pnper,
quick!"
Lottie, still mechanically, searched
th* drawers of the dresser in vain ;
then, spurred t > action by the sharp
voice and by tho sound of the clock
striking five, t-hc rushed up stairs to her
own room, tore ofl two half sheets of
paper from the pile she had thrust into
her desk, ran down again, snd had tho
cake in the oven in such a miraculously
short time that even her mother was
astonished.
" There, now, pick over those ber
ries, and set the table. Husan hasn't
finished ironing. And fetch up the
bntter, and—"
The voice buzzed in Lottie's ears, as
she hurried from one thing h> another.
At last everything was done and on the
table, but the rake, and the shrill ring
ing of the stipju-r-bell admonished Lob
tio to hurry with that. Never was enko
so unceremoniously tipped out of the
pans and so roughly cut up. The pa
pers had burned on, and there was no
time to stop to pull the fragments off.
Ho Lottie made the best of it, and left
them on, dumping the cake-basket
down on the sideboard, with n long
sigh of relief.
Mho did not dare to go into supper on
account of her swollen eyes, and on ac
count of Mr. Davenport, whom she was
afraid to meet. And if Harry was going,
what was the use V Hhe could not let
him go unwatcbed, however ; so, run
ning up stairs, she hastily donned a
walking dress and hurried out of the
back-door toward the village. From
the post-office she would be sure to see
biuj pass, and it " would bo some com
fort just to do that," thought poor Lot
tie, trying to swallow thedump in her
throat as she hastened along.
Once in the post-office, she dawdled
aimlessly about the counters, asking
for this and that, and keeping her
broad hat pulled low over her face lest
the marks of tears should be seeu. Hhe
waited a long time, watching the street,
but Harry did not pass. The clock
pointed to five minutes of six—perhaps
lie would be late for the train. At any
rafce, ho liad not passed, and there was
no other road to the station.
Onofciinnteof six. Hurely the clock
must bo wrong. No ; for the whistle
of the train sounded with its first
stroke, and Ilarry had not gone by.
He had been late, then. Lottie turnod
toward home in a hurry. If she should
see him—
CENTRE IIA EE. CENTRE Co.. PA., TIU KSD.VY, OCTOBER '2J, IH7 E
She dol iu>t tlni*h that sentence, for
.-die had no idea how M-< ltlg 11111 l would
help the matter ; Mill she felt m<-re
cheerful a* she hastened along the
Nilii 11V road. She had allllo-t reached
home when she saw the ot>j> -t of her
thoughts coming toward her at . round
pace. There was uo valise in his hand,
and he still wore liin (Liter's coat. Lot
tie's heart gave a great bound, half of
relief, half of apprehension. The llrM
feeling quickly predominated, for
Harry's strides soon brought him to
her side, and lie looked down on her
from his altitude of six feet with a
smile that betokened anything but dis
pleasure.
" Where have you been running to,
you naughty child ? And where why,
where's your seal ring?"
" At home." rtwqrouded the puzzled
Lottie, faintly.
" Why didn't you come to supper,
and bid mo good-bye ?"
" You liaveu't gone."
" I'm going, though. Will you give
me some siH>ngo-cake for luncheon 1"
More and more amazed, Lottie made
uo rcplv at all.
" Did you make the sponge-cake we
hail for *up|K-r ?"
" \es."
" M ule it in u hurry, didn't you?"
" Why ?"
" You didn't get all the paper off,
that's all. Hve what was stuck on my
piece, yon small deceiver ! Why didn t
you Use the {H>st ollice instead of the
sponge-cake ? Eh ?"
A email strip of greasy pat>cr was
laid in Lottie's outstre! -lied hand.
I'pou it she read the beginning of her
last epistolary production of the after
noon :
" Mv Dttktt HAUKV, —I don't know
how to write this to you, ami I am very
much ashamed to take back whut 1 said,
but I never meant to say it. Iha 1 to,
because Mr. l>aveu|K>rl
Here the paper was torn ofT, and, be
sides was taken forcibly out of Lot
tie's hand, which was clasped iu two
others.
" You wrote that to rue ? You mean
it ? Say yes 1"
For some time after Lottie's reply
nothing connected or sensible was said
ou either side ; but when they had
reached the garden gate, and were
philandering under the elms, L.ttie
said :
" But I don't see li w you got so
much paper on yottr mkw. I thought
it was ali in little fragments."
Harry laughed.
" I couhlu't break it easily, because
it was so tough n offense to the cook
—so I took a whole bar. I couldn't eat
it. for I had no appetite, so I turned it
over ami looked at it, and, singularly
enough, 1 began to get hungry imme
diately. Let's have sponge-cake lor
our wedding-cake, I*ottie !"
Travail of A l.lfc.
In a late London pajH>r apjveart d the
following, appended to a notice of a
woman starved to death :
" O.i Thursday her landlord open. 1
the bare room, whence ali the fumitnre
had been taken bit by bit for food.
There was no fuel, no food in the room;
ouly a skeleton that a few days In-fore
had laid down her pen, never more to
t ike it up agaiu—laid it down iu that
moment wheu her childhood'* home
had risen tw-fore her, just as the water*
of life rolled into eternity's deep sea !"
Who was it that thti* went out a fam
ished thing into the world t > come?
Her journal contained these words, the
uarae of the owner having been care
full v erased :
Fire I have gone without for days,
and now 1 nui trying to see how loug
this tir< 1 b ly can endure without
food. Strange, that during the last
few days 1 have lived over again my
girlhood's life. I am ag:i<n in the old
rectory, once more 1 hear thr> ugh the
open chnrch windows the tb.w of the
river, 1 hear the hum of the bee, ami
smell the sweet -scented hay ; and
amidst all this dreamy, delicious Sab
bath silence, a void- is preaching the
law of charity to simple lisb in r .
"Faith, hope, and charity; but the
gre t< st of all these is charity so far
1 have listened, tuid I am of! again,
eyes and thoughts following the gayly
winged butterfly which lnis just come
in at tho open window.
We penetrate into the very heart of
tho dense copse, and somehow or other
silence keeps our tongues. The ripened
nuts fall softly upon tho dried leaves,
and the nimble little squirrel overhead
is eyeing us askance. Suddenly my
br ither leaps to his feet to gather some
flowers growing nenr. I am by his
side ; lie has extended his hand, but it
is rapidly withdrawn- a viper's head
had darted up from among tho moss.
* * * * Hunger tortures me,
and the water I drink is icy cold ; but I
am in sunny France—sunny Southern
France, ami our convent grounds slope
to the swift Rhone. We, a knot of
happy girls, are talking of our future.
I do not look so far ns they ; my eye in
following tho laden grape carts as thov
wind slowly down the opposite liili,
and some grape-gatherers ure singing
in their soft patois, so musical and
sweet when draped in poetry. Schil
ler's " Maria Stuart " rings in mv ears,
mixed with the murmur of the Uliine,
and 1 stay my pen to listen to its wa
ters as they leap over HchafThatu* u's
Falls ; the murmur grows louder, the
waters are dashing along a mighty
flood ; they deafen rue flicy are crim
ing nearer and nearer !—Rut " Wie die
Arbeit, so dor Lonn" repeats itself
again and again : "As the labor, no
the reward." I have labored, and my
reward is hunger, cold, n pauper's
grave. I will try a little longer. " Ap
peal to your relatives," I am told each
time I ask fr help. 1 did appeal.
One sent ni live shillings, another sent
me two, and told ine to make use of my
education—that would Hud me bread.
1 dropped the seven shillings into the
jMHir-box last Sunday when I dragged
myself to chnrch. 1 could not imy
bread with anything so grudgingly
given. Tho four wnlls of my desolate
room close around mo, the roar of the
cataract of the Rhine comes nearer, bnt
a voice from its din of waters says :
"The greatent of these is charity."
Have I lived in vain ? Shall I die in
vain ?
Down n I'M.
Frank Mayer, a miner, walked Into
an abandoned shaft near Chestnut Hills,
Pa., and fell to the bottom, a distance
of over 100 feet. When he returned to
consciousness he found himself encom
passed by the carcasses of horses, cows,
pigs, and goats that had blundered into
the shaft at various times ; and the
horrid hissing of snakes that crawled
ulNiut him warned him that although
he had escaped death by his fall ho was
in danger of a more painful nnd linger
ing death by the slow poison of
veuemous reptiles. All that terrible
night he lay quietly ut the bottom of
the shaft. The next morning lie made
an attempt to climb out, bnt soon dis
covered that all human efforts would be
futile. Ho then sought to attract the
attention of tho people in the upper
world, hut as the shaft is a hundred
yards from tho public roiul it was
several linnrs before his cries were
heard. Ropes were brought, nnd a
dozen strong men with willing hands
soon had tho sufferer ont of the pit.
Physicians examined him, but found
no bones broken and hardly a bruise.
\ hI'EEIIV MAltltlAGK.
A IHnlitiiiuit VI oi l>c tit.it VI ullar
tilt I, ssul Uuli Wl) Win* llct.
Four y< trs ago a bright, intelligent,
but n -i pretty looking young iiiirs, left
a homeless uud penniless orphan by the
death of her fattier, came to ttiis city,
i sat n a Detroit | aper, and procured em
ployment as a waiter girl at a well
known second class hotel, making her
| home with a family tilth cousins, or
something of that sort, thin residing
on Second street. One day, at dinner
time, there strode into the dining room
a tut!, broad-shouldered, bronzed and
bearded man, who was evidently from
the far West. There was the unmis
takable air of a plainsman about him ;
evidently one of the better sort. He
seated himself at the table si rved by
the girl in question, uud watched her
movi i ie!,t* very closely. At sup|M-r
on the second dnv after his arrival he
remained at table until it was nearly
di-sertisl, and then us he was about ris
ing he addressed the gul in courteous
tones, saying that he desired an inter
view with her, a* he had information of
importance to communicate. Hhe re
plied that she would see him iu the
ladies' parlor ut a late hour. She did
so, and was not a little surprised ut re
ceiving nu off rof marriage. Unstated
that he w■ a resident ot the grazing
district of California, owned a large
stock ranch, and was a wealthy mau.
He l ad been out there tbirteeu years,
during which time he had wiut-d, pros
pected for rich diggings, hunted gnz
ill *, fought ludtans, chased greater*,
- ami pursued the usual avocations of su
.-nti-rprising Californium lie was on
his way east to visit hu aged parents,
who resided 1U Massachusetts, hail
stopped IU Detroit to See the citV, had
met her as above described, was
pleased with her appearance, and
thought it would IK fur her advantage
to quit her priKM-ut employment uud
I become tin wife of a ranchman.
There was aa honesty and sincerity
to the man's voice aa he made his dec
laration that convinced t! <• girl that hu
was IU earnest. She replied that she
would consider his pro]<osiUun and
give him an answer at the breakfaM
table. During the night she thought
the matter over seriously, and when in
the tuorniug she tok her eccentric
lover's order, sad he asked iu a low
tone, " An. you going to California ?"
■Me rrp!;<•-1 " Y'<■*," and tln-n Cent for
beefsteak and j ->tat<M s. That was the
extent of the courtship.
A* soon as the hungry guest had de
paitoil from the dining rujui, she re
paired to the parlor, where the lov r
wa* anxiously awaiting her. By hi*
direction* she informed tbe head waiter
that ahe should not work any longer,
donned her hat and shawl, and the two
Marted out alloppiug. DreaseS were
ordt red of nearly all the fashionable
moiiistes in the city, the aa tne to 1*
completed within twenty-four hours.
Hat-i w. te similarly ordered, and then
the retail dealers iu all manner of small
wo xrniß apprel were routed and large
purrtiAM * made, the last one being two
large Sarat.-ga trunks. The ui xt after
noou the pair were married at the resi
dence of a clergyman, made a call en
t.ie bride's humble fr.euds on S ootid
strei i, a:. 1 left for the La-t by tlie even
ing train.
Of course the few acquaintance* < t
tlie bride wno were aware of the cir
eutustauce* of her marriage were all
positive tii. t she l ad acted rashly, and
predicted all manner of trouble* and
trials for her. From the hour of her
departure, howi ver, none of them have
i\er heard a word from her ; but from
the fact that the hap) test-looking wife
and mothi rto Ik'm en tiding alniut the
cit v tho other day, a curly-beaded boy
in tier arms, nint the gentleman who
"i 11 her "ometbiug to her advantage "
by her side, wa* the wrmter girl who
" married in haU%" but did not re
pent t leisure, it msy safely be as
sured that the prediction* did not come
trne.
The St. Pcter*bnrg I'ollce,"
I. 'for* fnm St. Petersburg, aaya
the J'alt Mull (Ju.-'tte, speak of A re
markably frit of determination on thi>
part of (leneral Tropoff. the head of
the St. Pet-rsbnrg police, who had
given in earlier life extraordinary
proofs of personal courage. A fearful
d..tible murder WMI recently committed
at the Military AM demy of the city by
n jh>l crnian, who, being attached to the
female aervant of the doctor of the n•
'.xbludiment, fanci- d lie had cause to
nnapect her of infidelity. Having en
tered the d octor's quarters to upbraid
her, he en b 1 by taking up a oarving
kuife and killing the unfortunate wo
man on tho spot, mid then slaying the
doctor himself with it in bis study.
Here ho locked himself i:: with the in
ntrument of bin crime, and vowed lie
would despatch the first man with it,
who attempted to arrest him. The
JKIIICO summoned to tho spot were awed
by his apparent determination, while
some proposed to shoot huu as a wild
beast, and a party went in search of a
lire engine with a view to drench him
into siirr. nder. A report of the occur
rence reached General Trepoff. .Spring
ing into the drosehky which is kept
n ady for emergencies, the General w as
on the scene in a few minutes. He
ordered the door to tie burst open, and
then entered unarmed. As lie expect
ed, the murderer retreated into a cor
ner prepared to sell his life dearly.
The General approached him unhesita
tingly, with tho words, "Well, my
friend, you liaio committed a pretty
pair of murders, ami I hear that you
are going to stick any one who tries to
take you. Now- stick me : for I came
on purpose to take you myself." The
wretched man was so awed by the quiet
and authoritative maimer of his former
superior that he lowered his weapon and
mode no reply to the challenge, and
two of tho ji lico officers who had fol
lowed General Tropoff sprang on him,
and secured him without further resist
ance. It is not surprising that tho St.
I 'eterabnrg police, in relating the story,
declare their chief to be the bravest
man in Russia,
The Disease of the Day.
A eorr spondent of the liont-on Jour
nal writes : I'aralysis is becoming a
prime disease. It is not couflued to
tlio fleshy, tho plethoric, nor to the
aged. Tho fast life of our business
young men tells on them. It is n very
common thing to see men of thirty and
tliirty-flve bald headed, feel>!e-giiited,
nnd walking about with canes, their
underpinning knocked out, with other
signs of premature iigc. These signs
of earl}* weakness develop in paralysis.
Sudden deaths from this cause are very
common. Several have occurred in
railroad trains ; the vibration seeming
to predispose persons to the diseuse.
Not long since a gentleman died in one
of our churches. Ho was interested in
a case of discipline. He made a report
to tho church on tho case, ant down,
laid his head on the back of tho seat
aud instantly expired. In another case
a man not accustomed to public speak
ing arose to relate his religions experi
ence. He was so excited that ho could
scarcely speak. In tho midst of his
remarks ho was seized with paralysis,
aud curried to his home. Our young
men will have to tone down their stylo
of living if they amount to anything.
ECONOMY lOK TIIE YYIMEH.
!!•%% II !■ lauirllmti i ftiiltfl (hit—A
Hint.
The end of September a year ago,
sals the New York TVibunr, inaugura
ted one of the most curious reforms
which ever took place ut our social his
tory a reform bssrd at first ou neither
a reason nor a principle. Every man
began to economize before he felt any
lack of money ; not because he hold
economy to Ik* a virtue, bat because he
doubted his neighbor's financial credit,
just a* now he d>ns bis religion, and
tor no better cause. Not knowing what
business or s|ieculatiou to trust, he re
solved to button up whatever money he
might hate iu hi* |N>cket, and bj all
means possible to keep it there. Lctu.-
omy was for a while literally the fash
ion ; it was the proper thing to have
invested iu Northern Pacific, and to
find it expedient to contract." Now,
when the general distrust and eoutrac
i turn have made the evil a reality, and
! economy is a necessity, we do not prac
tice it with such complacency and airy
! grace
J u*t nt present, when the summer
holiday is over and the heads of the
firm or family are planning the winter's
campaign, is the time which they tukt
to decide how and where the pinch and
tightening shall be made. In most
j cases the object is to make it,
, not where it shall be least felt,
but where the next door neigh
tor shall not find it out. Bro*n,
finding his shelves full of good* which
sell too slowly for his needs, retains his
. omanirutal platoon of salesmen, but
Jocks the number and pav of hi* hand*
who work out of sight. Hu wife cuts
down the wage* of lier seamslre-6,
dicker* with the washerwoman over
every week'B lull, but drives us usual
in the park lwhind her blooded bays
and liveried fouttnen. The same sy
j tern of petty scrimping and ill-judged
: expenditure runs into every class and
grade. The master carpenter's wife,
pronounced among her neighbors a* a
generous housekeeper ton the basis
of ber dress and parlor furniture) " a
|xrfect lady," finding her allowance
cut down one-half, turns off the poor
woman who has sewed for her, and
buys her under-wear ready made, sav
ing enough in this wav to treat herself
to a I'urt-iau winter dress, a mass of
ouirse cloth, gaping stitches, and taw-
Jrv bead work.
The sewing woman in her turn is
driven to these ready-made clothing
shops, and will make for the rest of the
winter calico wrauperw at twenty-five
cents each, and other garment- in the
same proportion. The frmslc em
ployees of the mills recently closed or
runuiug on half-time crowd the doors
where this work is given out, glad of
il poor el at.ee to rxea|>e starvation.
Hm oMmT MM which offers it* If to
both s4-a ing woman and mill-band, de
cs nt,faithful domestic service,they turn
from as involving a loss of caste. Tbe
cook or chambermaid at Brown , or
eviiithe carpenter's house, is paid at
nearly double the rates of " ;-*'<•*-
ladit •> " in the smaller shop*. Tne
sales lady lodges in a garret and lives
on starvation diet, while tlie cook has
at her dis|K>sal all the comfort and
delicacies which her employer can com
mand for himself. The motive in this
madness he* in the much abused name
of " lady," and it t this motive which
accounts for the hundreds of women
driven, by Uieir own showing, to the
broth-M 01 New York for bread. Tlua
appetite for vulgar displav aud strug
gle (or sham, position, have served
N.K-isl mentors as a never failing text
for Tear* in their cm► ado against tin
shortcomings of our halto-ducated
cla*ses. it wa* apparent en >ugh iu
the days of lavish expenditure, but it
is oddly more notice able in the recent
attempt* at economy.
The nan who when in Europe fling*
his money about to (he amusement and
gain of all shopkeepers, and when at
home dares not dispute an extortionate
bill for fear of a suspicion of poverty,
is the man who iu the hard times
conn tig this winter will dock the wages
of lfl* workmen to spend the money on
opera or ball tickets. Any appeal to
him would U- wasted. When wealth i*
held to be tlie sole qualification in rank
or respect, we are not likely willingly
to betray our lack of ih
Theru is class of rational and cul
tured men and women whom it may be
worth while ton mind just now that
the saving of money is uot sometimes
the tMst humanity or economy. We
fail to mc the wisdom of discharging
wotkrocn or servants whose wages
would amount to hundreds during the
winter mouths, aud before the winter
is over subscribing thouands to bene
tlcial societies or soup-honses. Nor is
it better policy to deny ourselves sud
denly the comforts and luxuries upon
the manufacture of which the majority
of city operatives depend for their daily
bread. Those remarks, of course, ouly
apply to the wealthy class : but there
nio tii lie of us who should not carefully
consider how our small surplus funds
could be expended in wages rather than
in alms.
Number of Type* in a Newspaper.
The nmubor of types nsed in a news
paper the usual size is Rliont 000,000—
i. the actual number of liitsof metal
arranged and rearranged in preparing
a newspaper for the press. Me sup
pose tew people think of the printing
trade as ono of the most exact and par
ticular of all handicrafts ; but it is. In
ranking type, variations that might be
allowed iii the finest machinery would
render the type useless. It is very
rarely that typo furnished by two sepa
rate foundries oau be used together
without a great deal of trouble, though
they try to make it after the same
standard. We read ones in A while of
a wonderful piece of cabinet work, or
mosaic work, containing ton, twenty, or
fifty thousand pieces, the maker of
which has spent months, or even years,
of labor in producing it, nnd people go
to see it as a great curiosity ; but ttie
most elaborate and carefully fitted
piece of work of this kind ever made
docs not compare with that which the
printer does every day for minuteness
of detail and neeurney of fitting. The
man who does the first is looked upon
as nn art ist—n marvel of skill; and if a
hundred of his pieces are put iu wrong
side up, or turned the wrong way, it is
not observed in the general effect; lint
if the printer, in fitting ten times as
' many pieces together in a single day,
puts one where another should be, or
I turns one the wrong way, everybody
sees it, nnd is nmnzod at "tho stupid
carelessness of these printers."
THE MEANEST.— The . meanest man
has been found. llis name is Charles
Ford, late of Chicago. Ten days ago
liia poor wife become, a mother. Ford
drew all his money from the bank and
went to St. Paul. ' Thither, as soon OR
she was able, Mrs. Ford went also, in
order to bring him hock to his home
and family. She met him in the atreet,
and put into his arms the body of her
baby. It bad died on the cars. He
took it and went with her to his father's
house, where the sorrowing wife nnd
mother told the story of her troubles.
She turned to speak to him, but lie was
gone, and has not since been Been,
Sirs. Ford will not follow him, but is
on her way to join ber relatives in Nw
York.
'lVrm®: S'-J.OO a Year, in Advance.
DA.NH rilOHMHCtl'll.
The queerest fellow, without excep
tion, in all Wexford, was Daniel Bat
tles.
He was sixteeu years of age, yet ho
had the rrpdlatiou of )*>*aaail)g as
mtt'-h knowledge about odd ami out-of
the ways things ss any ten average lads,
lie Was believed to have an intimate
acquaintance with every trout in the
*tr am*, and every bud in the woods,
and cverpr rabbit in tbe burrows. He
had the irgest collection of birds' eggs
to be found in the county ; and it w*
reported, and solemnly believed by all
the small boys iu the neighborhood,
that he had a secret understanding with
the kingfishers and orioles, by which
they agreed to surrender one egg of
each litter to him, iu consideration of
his promise to let all the olbera alone.
He was alwaya taking up aoine new
idea to work out, and if he did not
know ail about many things, he really
seemed to know a little about every
thing. He knew how to print, how to
bleed a horse, how to run the telegraph
instrument, how to cultivate silk
worms, how to make the moat out
rageous noises with his hands, how to
graft pours, how to write backwards,
hew to pluy checkers withjhia eyes shut,
and, iu short, he knew how to do near
ly every thing that came in his way to
learn.
One day the neighbours opened their
eyes and prtrkeJ up the.r ears at the
news that Dsn had taken up photog
raphy ; uot that they were astonished,
for they had long censed to be aston
ished at auything that Dan did, but
they were interested iu his enterprise,
though regarding it simply as another
freak of s curious genius.
" Well, well," stud they, shrugging
their shoulders, " Dan is an odd stick.
It's auout time he wsnt into something
useful. Photography, eh ?"
The report was true. Dan had ob
tained a camera of good size, and was
experimenting with it up in his "den,'
in one end of his mother's garret.
It would be hard to imagine a more
untidy, chaotic-looking place than
Dan's "den." It was full of bottles,
old cloths, jars,bits of machinery,musi
cal instruments, car/tenter's tools, old
maps, torn pictures, pots of [paint and
chemicals, fragmeiits of old machines,
stuffed birds, etc. ; and it sraelled so
fearfully that no one but Dan could
ever stay in it long enough to make an
invea ory of the contents.
Dan was a* odd-looking a character
as one would be likely to see in s year's
travel. He was thin and lank in the
body arid leg*. His head was large,
and he had iight bine eye*, and long,
whitish hair, which he rarely combed,
and which straggled about all over hta
head, as if the rats had made nest* in
it the last time he slept.
He was not much of s talker. He
generally kept silent and stared. No
body knew what an amount ef thinking
he did meanwhile, aud in faet, many
who laughed at his "greenness" hsd to
confess afterwards that he not only saw
all thing" that was going on, but knew
more about what he saw than the
smartest of them.
Dan went ou with his photographing
for several weuka. He learned to take
Very good pictures, but he was far
fr m satisfied. He grew thoughtful
,nd almost melancholy. His fingers
wire always stained black and brown
with acids tkat he could not wash off,
and his clothing alwavs gave out the
jweuliar scent of "cobodon."
Dan's mother began really to I* anx
iofis. The boy was growing up a loose
Jack s' all-trades, but without asy par
ticular turn for one profitable calling.
It was necessary that ho should begin
to earn mom y pretty soon, and she
was anxious that be should choose some
single business and stick to iL H#-
t<ok the boy in hand and expostulated
with him. I>an looked distressed.
"I'm trying to do something, mother.
I'm just g tting hold of it now, I gueas.
I only want a little more time."
Tins was about as long a speech as
l)*n was in tlie habit of tusking at one
time. His mother was oacifled, and
for the present, let htm aloiSe.
Two or three more weeks slipped by.
Dan made pictures of tverybody he
could get before his camera. He pho
tographed the cat and her kittens. He
photographed his " deu" and all its
miscellaneous trumperx. He photo
graphed the l>oys in tho street, and he
photographed bnildiugs, fences and
trees.
Still he did not sncceed to his mind.
His pictures lacked the peculiar shad
ing of " tone" ttiat he wanted. His
dream was to achieve this, which he be
lieved would not only make them very
beautiful, but give him a largo profit
able custom.
Ho labored incessantly, now try
ing this plan, and now trying that,
but without any perfect result.
Iu the course of his experiments ont
of his garret window, Dan made street
pictures of people both near and re
mote, in divers attitudes, and at nearly
#ll hours of tbe day. Dan Ux-k them in
single figures and in groups ; he took
them looking np and looking downi ;
making jeatnres or sitting still; he
took them as they stood in windows,
and as they walked below him, or rode
past in carriages. Many of the photo
graphs were clear and good, but stall the
subtile finish was wanting. Dan ceuld
nat realize his dream.
Finally his mother begged him to
stop bis'nmnsemcnt (as she called it),
and go into a store, or so mo business
where be might support himself.
I>an shook his bead.
"Can't, mother."
" But, Dan, I can't afford to give
much more money for the acids you
want."
" Ah i" said Dan. He shook his head
once more, and looked very dejsoted.
He was at his wits' end. Ho believed
he was on the very verge of an impor
tant disoovery. 11a only wanted a little
more time and a little more money.
Where should the money come from?
This was a trying question. He could
not imngine that any one would ever
loan him enough cash to carry out his
projects, and he did not seem to think
of any way to earu a sufficient sum. He
went up to his " den," aud sat down in
the midst of his bottles and rubbish,
feeling uncommonly blue. Then* was
his camera upon its three long legs,
with its black muffler drawn carefully
over it, and with its brass nose pointed
out into the cold air.
The boy's thoughts pointed the same
way. He must go out in the cold aud
tluit something to do, or some day he
might have to stay out in the cold. He
descended into tho street, and wander
ed about the town, moody and dis
tressed.
About this time a trial was in pro
gress at the court. A man was charged
with passing a forged check at the
bank. The teller who paid the money
fully identified the prisoner, described
his movements, and related what was
said tkdween them at the time with the
greatest minuteness.
On the other hand, the acensed in
dignantly denied the charge, and pro
tested that ho was not in or near the
bank at the time alleged, but in the of
fico of a frieud on It. Btreet. Ho re
membered his whereabouts, for his ar
rest was not so long after the presenta
tion of the check but that all his move
ments on that day remained distinctly
in his mind. From tlie first he had
oontinued to assert his innocence, and
NO. 42.
declared that the teller had miataken
him for some other man.
Unfortnuately for him, he was obliged
to admit that he waa alone iu bia
friend's office at the hour in qneation,
and be failed to produce uuy witneaa
heaidea himself to prove definitely
where he was, though he bad made
very effort to do ao. It waa a question
of veracity, man against man, bnt the
clear and very positive *Utement of the
teller against the accused, and the pos
sibility of some motive presumed to ex
ist in the man's financial circumstance*,
had decided the bank directors, con
sidering the interests at stake, to bold
him to answer at the next session of
the court. Aud now the day of hia
trial hail come.
Everybody waa extremely interested
in Una trial, for the prisoner waa well
known in the town, and had always
Imwu sup-xised to be honest. The
anxiety waa intense to I now whether he
would really be proved a criminal.
The case seemed to be going against
the accused, for one or two other peo
ple Lad txen summoned, who testified
that, " to the beat of their knowledge
and belief," they had aeen this man in
or about the bank at one o'clock on the
da v when the check was passed.
The prisoner set in the court-room,
pale, but with a certain fearless firni-
Lieaa on bia features that aoareely
seemed like guilt.
All the known evidence was in, and
to the last, save the statements of a few
frienda aa to his previous good charac
ter, nothing in bia behalf beyond bia
own unsupported word had been
brought forward.
The prosecuting attorney roee and
formally recounted the strong points
iu the case, d frilling capecialiy on the
failure of the prisoner to prove an alibi,
i. e., to show to the satisfaction of the
court that he waa elsewhere than in the
bank at the moment of the crime, when
suddenly, to the unspeakable astonish
ment of all present, a queer voioe from
a distant part of the room exclaimed,—
" But I can tell where he waa."
Everybody turned to look at th
speaker., who was none other than our
friend Dan. He stood with hia mouth
wide open, clutching bia cap with oue
hand, and with the other nervously
poking hia tousled hair. Everybody
laughed.
"Silence!" roared the crier, in a
fierce tone, and then, assuming that the
boy intended to make sport, be ordered
him to ait down.
" So," drawled Dan, " I guess I
won't."
Of oourae that set the crowd into a
still louder uproar of laughter. The
cner made an attempt to get at the
boy.
" Stop !" cried the* judge, in a voioe
that waa heard in all parts of the room.
Aa soon aa silence waa obtained, be
turned towards Dan, who wma still
standing
" Young man, do yon know anjthing
about this case ?"
" Yea, sir," replied Dan, slowly. " 1
know "
"1 don't want to know that yet,*' in
terrupted the judge. " Come this
way. The shrewd magistrate knew
the youngster well enough to surmise
that be would neither care nor dare to
be fooling at such a time.
Dan, ail stained and spotted, picked
his way out of the crowd and walked
forward to the benab. A curious
spectacle be waa, with his uncouth
form and dress, and his mass of white
hair.
The judge leaned forward and said
something to him iu a very low tore,
and then Dan whispered back to the
judge. Sooa the people saw the judge
smile and nod hi* bead.
"Ah." said they to one another,
" our Dan has turned np something
new. It's just like him."
Their surmises were tamed to cer
tainty vheu the judge announced,
"This young man will produce im
portant evidence for the defence."
I>an made hia way out of the court
room and disappeared. In ten minutes
he came back again breathless. He
bad never been known to run before.
In his baud be held a paper as large
a* the cover of a geography- This he
handed to the judge. The judge look
ed at it curiously. Then he looked at
the prisoner. Then at the pajier again.
In a moment he looked up and "said,—
" Ciert, administer the oath to this
bov."
Dan was sworn.
1 cannet repeat his testimony here,
bnt be sure it was drolly worded, and j
disjointed enough. It made everybody j
laugh, even while it interested .them
profoundly. The substance of t was
that on the day when the forged check
wa* par-eed, he was taking photographs
let ween 12 u. and three o clock in the
afternoon. Among other pictures, he
made one of a man who was standing
in the window of a building on the j
opposite side of the street The man
that he photographed was tho prisoner [
at the bar.
Immediately there * * general bun
in the court-room. The prisoner's pala
face flushed, and he gazed upon Dan
with a look of joyful gratitude. #
llat there was still a very important
question to be settled. "At what time
i x.ictly was that photograph taken ?"
Daii took the picture and looked at it
closely.
" There's the clock on St. Luke's
church, up in that corner there," said
he, puntmg to the place, and handing
the picture back to the judge.
The judga looked again, holding the
paper up to the light and turning it
earefullr round.
"By "the dial here," said ho, "it was
jnst one o'clock at the instant when the
picture wat takea."
The jury and the counsel new ex
amined the photograph minutely. It
could not be disputed; there was the
identical man, and there was the proof
that he was not in the bank at the mo
ment when the forged check was
passed.
The toller was once more placed upen
the stand. He was confused by the
evidence ho had heard, and was by
no moans as positive as he was before.
At last he reluctantly admitted that he
might be laboring under a mistake.
And upon that he retired into the crowd
with au appearance of great chagrin.
Dan's triumph was complete. He
was a hem. People forgot his strange
dress and his wild-looking head, and
actually " lionised " him. The prisoner
was discharged. He instantly went to
Dan, and seizing both of his hands, ex
claimed, —
" You have saved me. Yon shall
have any thing you want. I canaot do
enongh'to show you my gratitude."
From that moment Dan's star began
to rise. He had money to continue hia
experiments, and he eventually discov
ered a process by wliioh he succeeded
in obtaining the richest and most
durable photographs that are now
taken in Wexford. He still keeps the
old camera that made his fortnne.
A Mrs. McGuffey, of Dayton, Ohio,
while traveling in Switzerland, took
the smallpox, and was for many weeks
confined to her room at a hotel in
Vevay. When she recovered she fo"'.<l
a bill awaiting her attention, whioh was
figured at the modest sum of $1,300 a
month. All the gneats in a panic left
the hotel, and during her illness the
smallpox patient was the sole tenant of
the house. She considered the bill
reasonable enough, and paid it.
A BLOODY CH!U>-BRI!r,
H*W * Wmnlaln Onr*rula C*l ••
IIW OmUi M III* mi III*
•twikvr** Wlfs.
About on* year sgo In Cumberland
county, mj Um Kautneky Spectator,
wan enacted on* of to* inoat horrible
tragedies that ever appalled no en
;:gh toned community, the account of
whifth, if giv*n in thu order of MMjuenos,
will not only surprise tint roller at
every atop, bnt will astound him at
the catastrophe In wlrioh the victim ia
a desperado aad the murderer a girliah
bride.
For the aake of thoae of our reader*
who know little or nothing of the case,
we give the facta aa we gathered them
from the pleading* in the Bnrksvills
Circuit Court.
Clay and J a*per Watkina were broth
era, and from all that we oould learn,
fearless, ruckle**, dissipated and dan
gerous men. For all Ihia they were
not of a family which would usually be
dnnominated low. Ilowerer, they were
disposed to quarrel, than which noth
ing could 1m more degrading. Their
laat and fatal quarrel wa* iu regard to
a note which one wiabed the other to
deetroy. It waa Clay who made the de
mand, and for the aake of peace Jaaper
claim* that he at onoe complied; bat it
appear* that nothing more than nomin
al peace waa ever enjoyed thereafter
lielwoen them. They quarrelled at al
moat every meeting. Finally threata
were uttered, and Clay went over to
Tennessee, it ia claimed to avoid a
fatal reaplL During hi* aliaenoe his
brother married a girl of fifteen sum
mers, who waa of a good family and
possessed a character simply * pot lea*.
Ooly about three days after Jasper's
marriage Clay returned to Kentucky,
and, being under the influenoe of
whisky, said to some one that Ls waa
" going to see Jasper, bavo a friendly
chat, and shoot it out with him." True
to thi* promise he went, and, on meet
ing his brother, asked him for the eon
furenoe proposed. The response from
Jasper war, " Are you armad t" Clay
rt-plieJ, " 1 bar# nothing but a pocket
knife; have you anything f" Jaaper
answered, " I have arma enough and
plenty to divide with you." The
mother of tho angay men left leet ska
•bonld witness violence. The enraged
Clay advanced upon bia brother, and
Jaaper and his bride went np stairs,
whence, possibly, a fatal shot, taking
effect in Clay's back, brought him to
the ground. Who did this the djing
man seemed not to know, for when ask
ed afterward who shot him be said, " I
reckon brother did, bnt I thought him
too brave to alj on me." This remark
would indicate that more happened on
that dreadful night than has yet been
told, but it ia believed that Jasper
Watkina shot his brother at an unex
pected moment, aa nothing else will ao
oonnt for this remark.
Next morning the wounded man was
taken to the house of Mr. Morton,
where he waa viaited and eared for by
iiis mother and hia friends. Here hia
hopeleoa ooudilion waa deplored by
Itiaaelf, here his dying declarations
were made, but the moat fearful aoene
waa yet to be witnessed.
A day or two later the noble Jaaper
and hia generous young wife go to see
the unfortunate brother and propose to
minister to him. All wet in the morn
ing dew the bride stands by the door
in the sick man'a room, her husband
near her, but on the outside. The
mother of Clay Watkina stands by hia
bedside, attempting to feed him, as the
unimpeacbed witneaa to these fade en
tered the room. Now Jasper Watkina
enters the room, calls hia mother from
the bedside, "eying, " A word with
yon, mother." Clay tarn* his face to
the pillow, dosing* hia eyes aa his
mother walks away with her back to
him, and at tlua moment the tender
bride of Jasper advances to the bed
and, drawing a pistol which had been
concealed under an oveiakirt, shoots at
the heart aad immediately ends the ca
reer of her victim. " Oh, why did yon
do that, Mary ?' was the hypocritical
interrogation of Jumper, to which the
proper answer would have been, " Be
cause you urged mo to do so."
From the time of the oommiaaion of
the crime till the beginning of the
Borksville Circuit Court the murderers
were held for safe keeping in ths Cum
berland County Jail—a joyless honey
moon indeed.* Daring the trial the
young woman, who would seem to be in
a state of nerrous debility, waa borne
to and from the Court House on a
lounge which she occupied; but we
frankly confess that we saw nothing in
this oalclisted to awaken the sympa
thies of any thinking man. Not that
we felt no sympathy for one so yonng,
so helpless, and in snch hopeless mis
ery. We felt deeply for her ; but not
on account of any hypocritical air or
attitnde. We looked upon her as the
willing dope of the heartless wretch
whom she loved. Through his influence
she had fired the fatal shot, and under
the same influenoe she is now profess
ing a weakness which he thinks will
plead for both ; hence she ia the lees
to blame, but by no means blameless.
The argument for the Commonwealth
is closed, and the jury retires. What
is their fate ? The faces of the prison
ers are as expressionless as stone. The
anxious crowd disperses for a little
season and the Court proceeds to other
bußineaa.
The curtain falls over the window of
the jury room, the eager crowd presses
to the bar, the Jndge resumes hia seat,
the prisoners look a little anxious, and
the jury fail* to come down. The dis
appointed crowd slowly moves out of
the Court House, each with a sickly
smile—"No decision yet" At this
juncture we retired, but learned after
ward that no decision was reached,
and the prisoners were held over to
further trial.
A Xew Way to Bail*.
They want a magnificent opera honse
in St. Louis, and this is the way a cor
respondent of the Democrat proposes to
bnild it: "Capital stock to be $1,000,-
000. Oertifleatee of stock for $1,000,-
000, SSOO, $250, SIOO and SSO, to be
issued payable twenty years from date.
After the third year two and a half per
cent, of said stock to be retired by al
lotment, and such stock so retired to
draw ita fall quota of interest for
twenty years at five per cent Stock
not retired at the exru ration of twenty
years to be redeemed by the company
without interest, and to this end the
stock to be a first mortgage on the
opera honse. To explain further, we
will suppose that twenty men own the
sum total of the stock. At the end of
the first three years begins the allot
ment. Blr. Jones is allotted to with
draw. His stock is $5,000. On this
amount he gets interest for twenty
rears oomplete, although his money has
been used but three years. At the end
of the fourth year the same thing takea
place, and so on up ~to the twentieth
year. By the retiring of one man each
year, it will be observed that at the end
of the period indicated three men will
own all the stock. They get no inter
est on their money, but then in lieu
thereof they hgve the building, ground,
and all the appurtenances thereto be
longing."
A Letter from a Father.
Here is a gentleman's letter to his
son in college:
44 Mr DEAR SON—I write to send yon
tiro pair of my old breeches, that yon
may have a new coat made ont of them.
Also some new socks which your mother
has just knit by ontting down some of
mine. Your mother sends you two
ponnds, without my knowledge, and
for fear yon may not use it wisely, I
hare kept back half, and only send yon
one. Your mother and I are well ex
oept that your Bister has got the mea-les,
which we think would spread among
the other girls if Tom had not had it
before, and he is the only one left. I
hope yon will do honor to my teach
ings ; if not, yon are an asa, and your
mother and myself
YOUR AFFECTION AT* PARENTS. "
Western railroads are reducing the
number and pay of their employees.