Thou, then, the longing heart that breakest,
Stealing the treasures one by one,
I'll call Thee blessed when thon makest
The parted - One,
Seprramen 18, 1863.
An Old-Fashioned Love,
The house was unpainted and one-
steried. Down to the small-paned win-
dows, with their thick green glass,
sloped the roof, bearded at the eaves |
with moss and patched with yellow and |
gray lichens, and at one end rose a|
broad chimney, up which clambered a |
woodbine just feathering out with deli-
cate new leaves. There was a stone |
step at the front door; it was worn hol. |
low at the side where the lilacs grew,
and formed a receptacle for the sweet |
dropped petals of the pink, old-fash-
ioned roses as well as for the pale pur. |
ple flowers. A gnarled and ancient |
cherry tree shaded the quaint dwelling
and all about it stood crooked, un-|
trimmed apple and wild plumb trees,
and all along its irregular stone wall |
sprang currant bushes aed blackberry |
runners that twisted and tarned in and |
out between the great loose stones and
stretched over the pathway.
The place was a picturesque bit in
the landscape. One came upon it
abruptly over a rise in the high road, |
and it was like an old-time vignette to
a whole series of modern and magnifi-
cent country residences that formed the
suburb of a large city. It had been oc-
cupied by generations of the same fam-
ily, end so little had they varied in
physical or mental traits that it was
difficult to tell where sire left off and
son began. Their small farming had
continued from year to year without
perceptible improvement or change —
save {bat of the seasons; their gar-
ments descended by inheritance, and
they eschewed all modern ideas of liv-
ing or dying, and were at length laid in
silent rows, side by side, in the old
daisied graveyard on the hillside,
At the time of which I write there
remained among the living of this
family of Barnets but one widow and
her granddaughter, Hetty, a girl of |
eighteen. A hired man attended to the |
farm duties, as had his father before |
him; he was faithful, simple and stub- |
borrly set against ail innovations, |
Helty Barnet—the last of the name—
according to her neighbors, * favored ”
her father wonderfully, and the Barnet
men had been remarkable for fine
physique—well developed, clean of
blocd and tall of stature. Hetty was a
handsome girl, with a bright wild-rose
complexion, clear brown eyes and a
rich profusion of wavy chestnut hair.
Ste moved with a éerene young dig-
nity, unrufiled by the stern exigencies
of fate, and looked out from under long
lashes with a frank, innocent expres-
sion that was foreign to all modern
coquetry. And yet the girl did not
lack for admirers, nor a pleasant con-
sciousness of the power to win them;
nature, in her changing color, her
sweet red lips and the flattering dimple
in her rounded, healthy cheek, did her
coquetting for her, and many a wistful
glance was cast under the cherry-boughs
where, in the summer-time, she was
wont to sit,
*Grandmcther!” she called, one af-
ternoon, as a dashing team ascended a
not distant hill‘ grandmother! who
do you think is coming up the road? It’
is the Widow Campbell's son. What «
display he makes with his black horses
and handsome carriage |”
Old Mrs. Barnet put on her specta-
cles, smoothed her calico apron and
came cht from among the beehives near.
the garden gate,
“Well, I declare to’t, be does!” ex-
claimed the astonished old lady. “It’s
a new turnout as sure as I'm Mehitable
Barnet! Before his father, Ebenezer
Campbell, died, he didn’t know searce-
ly where to get his livin’. That's his
Uncle John’s money he's a-gallivantin’
on now, Hetty, you may be sure of it.”
“Why, grandmother, John Jay hasn't
left him what's his own—yet.” Hetty's
mouth grew round as a puckered rose-
bud. * He isn’t dead.”
“Dead, child! Nobody said he was,
or goin’ to die either, but everybody
knows there ain't no possible chance of
his marryin’, and young Campbell is
dashin’, I tell yon, on his fature
chances. He ain't the kind to wait fora
‘dead man’s shoes’; he’s just a-wearin’
of 'em while his uncle’s a-livin’, He's
the only likely heir, Hetty, to the big
Jay property.”
“But John Jay is not old, grand-
mother,” returced the girl, vehemently.
“His hair may have turned a bit, but
be is not an old man.”
¢ Not so, as you say, Hetty,” and the
old lady looked sharply over her spec-
tacles at her granddaughter, “But he
has dandled you on his knee of'n
Howy blushed, and devoted herself
to her task of shelling peas, but Grand-
mother Barnet was diligently looking
for insects on her favorite rosebush,
and saw nothing.
“You eee,” she continued, “there
was some kind of talk, Hetty, about
John's having had a disappointment
some years a3o. Leastwajs, it ain't
“Why not now, this lovely |
We can go down the
Hetty's young heart filled with inno-
A drive behind such |
But the proposi-
They
were a primitive people, and whoever
married into the family was sure of |
getting a wife whose thoughts were as |
fresh us the morning dew, and lips as |
fragrant and pure as wild roses. To
accept ‘‘ promiscuous” aitention was
unheard of. But this sudden tempta.
mother Barnet, prond of her Hetty's
” 5
and so the young couple drove gayly
away in the golden sunlight. How de- |
fringed country road, into a woodland
drifted asross their faces, and up to a
height that overlooked the sleepy, wind-
ing river! It was an episode in the
dered herself to a keen enjoyment
of it.
* -
. @ ® -
** Who do you think has been here,
Hetty ?” said her grandmother, as the |
girl appeared, with the first star, at the
door. * John Jay.”
Hettie drew a quick breath, and the
light died suddenly out of her eyes,
“ He asked most particular for yon,
child, as soon as he came in, and I told
him you'd gone off to drive with his |
nephew. 1 thought perhaps he'd be |
glad the young man wasn't with worse |
company.”
“ And what aid—he say, grand-
mother ?” asked the girl, slowly. i
“ He said, * Does she often go with |
him?"
* And you told him—" Hettie paused |
with a choking breathlessness. i
The old lady deliberately took out |
her glasses, rubbed them carefully on
the corner of her apron,and then placing |
them on her nose looked at her grand-
danghter reflectively as she responded : |
“ Well, yes, child; I didn't see no |
reason for not telling him that young |
pretty regular.”
“Ob, grandmother!” cried Hetty, |
with burning cheeks,
* Well, I did say this was the first |
downright set attention afore folks. |
And I told bim, child, there wan't to
be found nowhere a likelier girl than
my Hetty, and young Oampbell might
count himsell powerful lucky to get |
you. The Barnet was always a particu-
lar set, and I've no objection to John |
Jay knowing it. He don't want to throw |
his property away, it aint’t at all likely,
on a relation with a shiftless wife,’
** Grandmother!” cried Hetty, again; |
‘“ ob, grandmother, you never told him |
that!" |
“Of course I did. The Barnets was
always an outspoken family, John will |
have to settle the property onto some- |
body. It may as well be your husband
as—, Bless me, Hetty Barnet!”
For the young girl broke suddenly |
into a passionate storm of sobs and |
tears.
** What on earth is the matter, child?
You gin’t got it into your head John
Jay is going to die, have you? He looks |
amazin’ well and young, considerin,’ |
Don’t get notions—" {
Whatever ailed Hetty, she had disap- |
peared, and had hidd:n herself from
ber loquacious grandmother behind |
the old well-sweep nerr thelilac bushes |
There she sat until the stars grew
brighter through the purple night, and
the dew dampened the soft, disheveled |
hair that was already wet with tears, |
She heard the ionesome cry of the whip- |
poor-will from the distant meadow, and |
the sad call seemed to mock her own
loneliness.
“Hetty |”
The girl started up with a bounding
heart and outstretched hands to find
them clasped in a pair of stronger ones,
She was trembling like the slim poplar
in the corner of the yard, and only found
breath to say :
“I am glad to see you,” and even to
her own ears her voice sounded un-
natural and formal. Her fingers were
slowly loosed from the warm grasp and
fell down cold and limp; the tall,
bearded man at her side retreated and
paused fo lean heavily against the well-
curb, Then he a in a voice well
under control :
“I am only in town for a few hours,
I shall make another trip later to the
Rocky mountains, Hetty,” he added,
after a moment's silence, “I believe I
shall never come back again. It is the
life that best suits me-—this wandering
one—and who should care now?”
Heity’'s heart throbbed hard. He
was only corroborating what so many
declared—that he ‘‘never would marry,”
that desire for a love and home was
dead within him.
Bhe replied primly :
“Your sister will miss yon.”
She has her interests,” returned
John Jay, his glance seeking passion-
ately out the sweet face in the settling
[ie i Fe ave
was a good match,
Dpusa
~ ’
with you, and he
his fine place, too —"
“Don't, grandmother, please don't
talk over that affair,” pleaded Hetty,
Ten years
ago, only think of it, and Mr. Campbell
and has two children. I
never loved him, grandmother. Would
you have a Barnet marry for money or
family #
The old lady bridled with the dignity
“ No, never, child. You are right.
The Lord will watch over you.”
Hetty sighed softly and went on with
her work. She had not changed much,
this fair, healthsome woman: there was
a calmer expression upon her brow, and
a not infrequent look of yearning sad-
ness in her eyes, but she was still the
last ** handsome Barnet.”
Much had come to pass to fret her.
The faithful servant-man had been
* gathered to his fathers,” and matters,
consequently, gone wrong on the un-
productive form. There was a mort-
gage, too, upon the place that threat.
no one with whom she might disonss
3
her lived to them-
selves. But her love for the quaint old
house was as that of all her kindred, and
die beneath its roof-tree Day and
night she turned the problem in her
Hetty had assisted her helpless
A
young moon curved its bow in tha pur.
ple sky, the dew fell down like silver
beads, and once again the lonely woman
listened to the faint, far call of . whip-
How
the past returned to her!
memory broke within her past centrol,
“I do believe John loved
Why could I not have forgotten self,
pride, shame, everything, and tried to
understand ?
Jat we
went forever, Ah! me! I wonder
where he has been all these years?
Teu years!
1
“He never intended to marry, I
know it, Nor do IL
life |—a lonely life |”
Plaintively came the ery of the bird,
"
said ‘good-by.’
Her head sank on her arm, and the
night folded her in dad
roveries,
* Hetty | Hetty I”
Softly, tenderly the voice, out of the
“ John I”
A firm footstep sprang into the shad-
of her joy was come,
“I have returned to find you!” cried
Neither riches nor pride could
tempt you.
”"
eaid the happy woman, be
tween smiles and tears.
‘“* But, you remember, your grand-
mother gave me to understand —"
“ Ah,” interrupted Hetty, clasping
her lover as though she might again
loge him, ** remember, also, that a
Barnet never reveals her love unasked.
Grandmother could not know the way
of my heart,”
What plans the stars and leaves were
witnesses to that night one cannot
know, but Hetty made no delay to wed
with her first love, and the quaint
house received another inmate.
8till picturesque and moss-roofed it
stands beneath its gnarled old trees,
and children’s voices, that call Hetty
“ mother,” ure heard merrily mocking
the robins in the spring time,
Peace, plenty and Lappiness dwell
therein, and one is fain to say : “There
is no love like the old love,”
The German translations from Long.
fellow number 86 ; Dutch, 2; Bwedish,
0; Danish, 2; French, 8; Italian, 9;
Portuguese, 4; Spanish, 1; Polish, 3;
Russian, Latir, Hebrew, Chinese and
Sanskrit, each 1.
Amsterdam, the ehief commercial city
of the Netherlands, is to have an inter-
Rational exhibition from May to October,
approached and asked some sturdy Re-
presentative point blank questions, or
when they rolled spittoons over the
floor, or drew pictures with chalk ou
members’ desks. Morse is prond of his
heirs, but he can't manage them, and
the little fellows make it lively enough
for him sometimes.
The prettiest and most favored chil
dren of the congressional groap are the
bright-eyed, fair-haired boy and girl of
Congressman Skinner, Their pretty
manners and charming prattle has made
them popular with every one connected
with the House. They can climb over
desks and all that sort of thing, but
unlike the majority of children of their
boisterous or inclined to
precociousness, Mr, Skinner is proud
of them, and when the douse is in ses.
ion, and he can sit behind his
with one on each knee, he seems the
happiest man in Congress,
Congresstuan Hammond, of New
York, has a fine little son, who always
makes friends, and when he stands
around the floor he is dignified and po-
lite, and shakes hands and chats bright.
ly with members on all sides, He's a
friend of Belford's boys, and when these
little chaps are together it is a pleasant
picture to watch their many
I'wo of the brightest children are the
daughters of Congressmen Mills and
Dingley. They are handsome girls and
always prettily dressed. Little Miss
Mills is an especial favorite with Joe
Blackburn, who takes particular pride
in teasing her with reference to her
father's political status.
Me Mills is a Greenbacker, but Black.
burn, when talking with the little
miss, always speaks of him as being a
Republican, at which the little girl fires
up with indignation, and with all the
language her baby lips can command,
rebukes Mr. Blackburn flercely ; a fact
which pleases the latter immensely,and
always attracts a group of statesmen
ages are not
desk
Congressman Valentine's boy is
son of the journal clerk.
These little chaps are bright, hand-
some and full of vigor, and complete
on Oritic,
Norwegian Glaciers and Folk-Lore.
A correspondent of the Nature gives
of a Norwegian glacier known as Buer-
bree, near Odde on the Sorfjord. “I
visited the place,” he says, “in 1874,
siderable bit of the valley by the vast
irresistible ice-plow was very strik'ng,
My object, however, is to repeat
a strange pieces of folk-lore, which tends
to show that in this particular spot the
advance of the glacier must have been
The
Buer
tale was that
valley
lish, long ago
extended far
and was full of
farms and eunltivation. It had also a
e. Lapis)
porter, Ald uo wo. TREY
eighteen hours a day.
auction rooms, picked up cheap lots and
i
{
.
colvmn recalled to the observer the de-
attractively, Every article was care.
fully examined, creases were smoothed
out and goods were neatly arranged
and made to look fresh and attractive.
i
kept his money turning. A principle
that lay at the foundation of his sue
coss was the rigid honesty
his dealings. Goods were repre-
sented to be exactly what they
were. The price fixed was as low as
possible, and there was no deviation
from it. Shoppers were relieved of all
care save to tind what they wanted
Lots of goods purchased
cheap were sold very cheap, and Stew
art's bargains became famous, His
bot fs
Hid
thoug
which could gain custom
ging. When he started his uptown
store he ordered that particular atten
tion should be paid to poor persons
coming in from the Fourth avenue side,
s0 that he wight attract the Bowery
trade, and be succeeded.
his jadgment was prompt and decisive.
Ho did not have to watch others to
tell what he wanted, and when
importations came in he made his se
lectiops while other purchasers were
garded as prophetic of coming wars'and
pestilence. ‘
I 55
Popular Rescrts in a Spanish Town,
The
chief streot was lined with awnings
reaching to the enrbstone in front of
the shops, and every public doorway
was screened by a striped curtain
acquaintance introduced us to what
seemed a dingy bar, bat by a series of
lurrings opened out into a spacions
concesled cafe-—that of the Two Broth-
ers—where we frequently repaired with
him, to sip ebiccory and cognao or play
dominoes. On these occasions he kept
the stock. Buying and selling for cash
and striking the market at bottom
prices all the time, he attained a busi-
against periods of commercial depres.
sion.
harvest to him.
forced down
could make
goods, The
The collapse of credit
values so that his cash
its own price for
curtailment of his
marking the side of himself and a
friend with their initisls, and heading
All travelers in
are described
“Strangers” or “French,
utation for a pure Parisian sccent which
"
Brothers resorted many soldiers, shop-
keepers and housewives during fixed
hours of the afternoon and
Don Roderick’s palace,
bad times, was made up for by
closing out stocks direot to consumers
In his wholesale operations he gave
only short credit, and ne indulgence of
tardy payments was shown. Collections
were rigorously pushed, and ecom-
promise of claims refused. An embar.
rassod firm must at least pay Stewart
luxuriating in the most expensive seats
Toledan
and lis.
includiog
great
some
of beauty,
The ticket
ment it could get with other creditors.
he died worth about £30,000,000,
In the retail store 520-horse power
was required to heat the building, ran
chines,
employes under pay.
in vain of the inhabitants,
the crawling power of the ice, until the
glacier reached the lake below. The
disappearing the snow began to fall.
awful
engulfed
valley and farms,
proached by steps,
the
is the
and by
cursed
Nor curse
# mile to go before it reaches its desti-
nation in the lake above Odde.
and not invented for the occasion, as
Olsea gave it half jokingly as the
tradition of the district.
farmer who owns the remnant of
i
i
{
i
{
i
i
{
and much of its custom came from tran-
sient visitors, It was frequented by ail
classes, from the wealthies! to the very
poor. A constant line of ludies thronged
in and out of the blune-shaded doors
Carriages lined the curb, and liveried
coachmen of the firm
doors. Inside
to get about because of the crowd.
ing proper'y for store purposes was
greatly increased. It checked the up-
town movement of trade, and caused a
great many other retail houses to estab.
lish themselves in the vicinity.
- EE —— i.
Wit of the Little Ones,
“What is that man yeiling at ?” in.
quired Tommy of his younger brother.
replied the
little ona,
A little girl read a composition before
the minister. The subject was “a cow.”
She wove in this complimentary sen-
tenca: “A cow is the most useful ani
mal in the world except religion.”
“Ma, am I all made now ?” said a lit
tle miss of three and one-half years at
the breakfast table [yesterday morning,
“Why, dear?’ said the fond mother,
Nellie has a four-year-old sister Mary,
feet.” Puzzled and ready to ory, she
up each year, but no one will buy.
this tale be genuine it points to a pro
longed advance of the Folgefond, which
They's all the feet I've got.”
A lady was singing at a charity con-
cert in England and the audience in
The Wonders of Paper.
At the Melbourne exhibition, held
ing house made entirely of paper, and
material. There were paper walls,
ings, paper joists, paper stairways,
paper carpets, paper bedding, paper
chairs, paper sofas, paper lamps, paper
ying pans and even the stoves in
which bright fires wero kept constantly
burning daily were of papier mache,
and when the fabricator of this man-
sion gave a banquet in this dwelling,
the tablecloths, the napkins, the plates
and cups and saucers, the bottles and
the tumblers, and even the knives and
forks, were likewise made of paper, —
Journal of Chemistry,
~
time. Her daughter, a little child, was
present, and on being asked afterward
how her mamma had sung, replied:
A young lady having ‘ set her cap”
osite sex, and having failed to win
im, was telling her sorrows to a cou-
ple of her confidants, when one of
them confronted her with these words :
‘' Never mind, Mollie, there as good
fish in the sea as ever was caught.”
“ Mollie knows that,” replied her little
brother, ** but she wants a whale,”
=A p—
A recent return shows that in England
and Wales there are 1,267 building
societies, The membership of 1,015 of
these amounts to 372,035, and the re-
oceipts of 1,116 during the year reached
the sum of £18,604,665,
|
he smoked a short brier pipe, giving to
the whole business of the
refurning to our ion about
somewhere like a worm-track in old
wood, and, pursuing the sound, we
discovered, by the aid of a match
lighted for a cigarette, two men stand-
ing in the obscure alley, and serenading
positively laughed with pride at the
attention. The men, it proved, had
friend engaged them to perform for us
Lathrop, in Harper,
a ——
The Hindoos.
honest
verbal
They are good-natured;
among themselves, prone to
their treatment of women and
aged; careful of and kind to their male
daughters; frogal in
except on special occasions,
a8 birthe, deaths and
extremely submissive to authority;
industrious, with a somewbat fitiul
and desuitory industry; careless and
unsystematio in most of their arrange
ments; very prone to lying, but is eften
the result of imperfectly understand-
ing what is said to them, and of a loose
ness of thought and mental limitations
which are beyond the conception of a
European interrogator; averse to any
change of which the benefit is
not very obvious to them, and crav
ing few boons of government
except to be left alone as much as it
can find in its heart to leave them, *
* w
a lovable, though not unfrequently a
somewhat exasperating people; difii-
cult to understand, but well worthy of
study; who will repay with interest the
expenditure, but all who have to deal
with them, of the whole of the avail
able stock of the four great qualities
which they most require and most ap-
preciate—gentleness, patience, firm-
ness and thoroughness,— Garden of
India,
ARIA.
Friendly People,
The infinence of genuine friendliness
is wonderful, We have met people who
were so kind and cordial in manner, so
responsive in look and greeting, and sp
swift in doing and saying courteous and
gracious things, that they seemed to
diffuse a sweet atmosohere around them.
How beautiful they were, even though
they had plain faces and rongh hands.
No face is ever hopelessly plain through
which a friendly soul looks out upon
the world.
The number of books and pamphlets
published in Germany dwing last year
was 15,191, as against 14,941 published
in 1881,
| Ban
survivors of the ts
from arrived in this city by the steRn
Newbern from Mazatlin, The survivors
| were Captain McArthur, his wite, two
children and one sailor. They had been
taken from a Mexioan coasting
echooner by the Newbern on
her down trip. Two days be
fore that the schooner had picked them
up, the captain and his fawily looking
| little better than bronzed skeleton, one
sailor a gibbering maniac, the other
| senseless. A two-vear-old child of the
captain's was dead. All had been mm an
open boat forty-six days. For many
| days they had subsisted upon a mouth-
ful of food and a spoonful of freshened
ocean water. When the Mexicans
schooner took them on board one sail
overcome all restraint and drank him-
self to death with the water furnished.
“For the love of God give me pass-
age to some place where my wife and
clild ean have proper care,” the wrecked
| captain said to Captain Huntington of
the Newbern, when the steamer was ap-
proached by a boat from the coasting
schooner,
The survivors were taken aboard.
“There is a white man among them
for I can tell by his voice,” an English
lady on the Newbern said, *‘ but how
dreadful that poor squaw looks.” It was
| the captain's wife, her exposed flesh
burned to a darker hue than an Indian's,
that the lady thought was a squaw.
The maniac sailor died from the ef-
fect of the water, which he hoped would
give him new life, soon after he was
lifted on board the steamer. The
others were tenderly cared for,
The captain's little boy, only four
years old, looked wildly strange and
unvatiural. *“ Bat, bless you,” an of-
ficer of the Newbern said to a Call re
porter, ** we eould just see him grow
fat and natural-like from meal to meal.”
The little fellow, who had stood what
killed three of the stiong sail
ors, was soon & great favorite with
| every man on the steamer.
The captain's wife, when Mazatlan
was reached, after being on the steamer
three days, gave birth to a son. It was
| two weeks old when the steamer arrived
| at the wharf, and a lively, bright infant,
| Buch is the story of their resene.
Words cannot picture the sufferings
| they endured in the forty-six days in
an open boat; days when the mother
saw oue babe waste away to dea‘h
for the lack of even such scanty nourish-
ment as had to be dealt to all; days
when the clear-headed captain had
to tie to the thwarts two of the
crazy sailors to prevent them from
feasting in fact upon the weaker
ones, upon whom their deliram.liguted
when distant sails would loom up,
wildly revive sinking hope, disappear,
{and drive hope into a greater, blacker
| distance; days when the sufferings of
{all were nearly ended by drowning,
| when the crazed man’s wild plunging
{ nearly capsized the boat. It was a ter.
| rible picture, and one which the imag-
ination alone can attempt feebly to
paint.
* Ah!” the wife and mother said one
day on the steamer, as the passengers
were at dinner, “if my dear baby boy
| had had each day a mouthful of the
water so lavishly dealt out here.”
General Torbet’s Way.
| Torbet, of cavalry fame, who was
| lost at sea last year with the ill-fated
{ Vera Orns, was a good fighter and a
{ hard worker. While having a kindly
| heart for the trooper who was always
| ready for ‘boots and saddles,” he
| hated a shirk and had his own way of
| meeting the complaints urged by shirk-
ers to get rid of daty. Just before
| breaking camp in the spring of 1865
| the general attended a sick call to see
| the state of health in his command.
| One after another of the boys came in
| for prescriptions, and by-and-bye a
| strapping big trooper, who was a no-
| torious shirk, entered the tent with his
hands on his stomach. Torbet took
him in all at a glance and then thun-
dered out:
“ What are you here for ?”
Sick,” was the faint response,
“ What ails you?’
‘‘Snake in the stomach.”
‘How long has it been there ?”
**Six months,”
“Sargeon,” said the general, as he
turned to the officer, “call in two men,
cut this man open and remove the
snake! We are going to break camp in
ten days, and we haven't time to coax
the reptile up I” .
Fifteen minutes after that the man
was out on the line grooming his horse,
and by noon he looked well enou:h to
eat his way through a barrel of pork.—
Detroit Free Press,
Agrioultural implements mannfao-
tared in the United States for the year
1881 were valued at $69,374,086, and
gave employment to 88,620 hands.
The two highest chimneys in the
world are near Glasgow, Seotland.
Oae at Port Dundas is 454 feet above
be grousd, and the St. Rollox 4854
about his Pee
several occasions he perf?
operations with an ordinary penknife
hosing other instruments were not at
and.
Honoring a Painter,
Whoever may be the greatest of
painters, living or dead, no painter, dead
or living, bad ever such honors paid to
him as have just been lavished upon the
Hungarian artist Mankacsky. In Maa.
kacz, his birthplace, sn iaseription was
put up announcing that in that town
| were born“ Arpad, the founder of our
| country, and Munksesky, the founder
| of our art.” When he was expected in
{ Pesth special trains were run
from various parts of Hungary in
order to enable Munkacsky's fellow-
countrymen to see him and shake
{him by the band, His famous
| picture was on view, and ss much as
£5,000 is said to have been made by
{ exhibiting it.
presched a sermon, or at least an ad-
grand concert was given, to which
Munkacsky was specially invited and at
the Abbe Lisrt, was present. In the
course of the entertainment the painter
was asked whether he was * fond of
music ” and if he played on any instra
meni, He replied that he was devoted
to musie, and that he played on nature's
to stand on a chair,
| one might see and bear him.
and even hysterical.
women wept, and the Abbe Liszt took
the whistling virtnoso in his arms and
embraced him. It is recorded of the
late Ole Ball, a showy violinist who
passed with the Norwegians for a man
of genius, that on one occasion, at a
moment of political crisis, he was called
upon by an excited audience to furnish
suggestions for a revised constitution ;
and when the pianist Gottechalk died
at Rio Janeiro, a writer in one of the
Rio newspapers named, in a paroxysm
of admiration and grief, the one
in the region of the blessed which so
angelic a player could fitly occupy.
But the enthusiasm of which Mun.
kacsky has been made the object goes
beyond all previous manifestations of a
like kind. —S¢ James’ Gazette,
Attachment to Newspapers,
The strong attacliment of subscribers
to well conducted newspapers is fully
confirmed by publishers. “Stop my
paper,’ words of dread to beginners in
business, lose their terror after a paper
has been established for a number of
years. So long as it pursues a just,
honorable and judicious course, meet.
ing the wants of its customers in all
respects, the ties of friendship between
the subscriber and paper are as hard to
break by outside third party as the link
which binds old friends in business or
social life. Occasional defects and
errors in a newspaper are overlooked by
those who have become attached to it
throngh its perusal for years.
They sometimes become dissatisfied
with it on account of something which
has slipped into its columns and may
stop taking it, but the absence of the
familiar sheet at their homes and offices
for a few weeks becomes an insupporta-
ble privation, they hasten to take it
again, and possibly apologize for having
stopped. No friendship on earth is
more constant than that contracted by
the reader for a journal which makes an
honest and earnest effort to merit its
continued support, Hence a conscien-
tionsly conducted paper becomes a fa-
vorite in the family.
I'he Sparrow Pest,
If the sparrow, whom the spring
makes more belligerent and obnoxious
than ever, would just take himself away
and let our native songsters, who have
been exiled by his pugnacity, come
into our gardens and a once more,
we would be willing to pardon him for
his unnumbered displays of ill-breed-
ing, ill-nature and general meanness.
By the way, has the reader ever noticed
what a difference there is in the feeling
the children have for this smudgy,
dirty, greedy wrangler of the streets
and his country cousin, the modest
gray-vested, cleaun-footed little chip-
ping-bird that used to hop inquiringly
along our garden paths until driven
away by the low-bred stranger from
over the sea? No child ever gathered
other than good impression from little
chippie—but the sparrow, brown-coat—
ugh! He is a devil of the gutter, who
has all the vices of the street Araband
none of his possibility of amendment.
The moral influence of ‘‘Chippie” was
one of the things we lost when we en-
couraged the feathered scavenger that
drove him away. — Our Continent,
A scientist says iil
Loos onary
i to m
'dinary two-cent
matches, That
‘is of very little »
in the night, smashes
on the bureau in searching
lor 1 match, and realizes that all the
4, match power phosphorus con-
| cealed inside of him will not light the
| gus, —8iflings.
i Subjection of a Horse,
| One of the amusements of A
| stock-raisers is to “run” a “mob™
| wild horses, ** mob” being
| man's yame for herd, Some of
| mobs number among their most
| members fine enimals which have
' broken, but have run away from
‘of servitude. One ates
i
Ht
tl
2
»
>
s
| young man name! Fitzzerald.
an 00KIg the 220) over Le
suddenly
“Well, that's lucky! I've not seen
| that gray horse these two years. I
‘made sure that some ome had
| him."
| Going into the yard he tried to drive
| this horse into a corner by himself and
cateh him.
i
5
! through the air at the gray, who
| flying about the yard. For a
| it hovered over the horse's head, and
| hen settled round his neck. The
| was tightened, and the gna made a
| plunge or two. Bat his training
| resuming its sway be walked toward his
| master, though straining slightly ou the
With a long stick Fi
rabbed the horse gently over the head
{and body. Gradually be
‘slipped on the bridle.
| his fore leg was strapped up did the
; horse suffer the saddle and the crupper
10 be put an. Harleq te
ter giviag Harlequin—as gray
| was pamed—a few turns around the
{yard in order that be might buck if
| disposed to before being mounted, Mer,
| Fite d said: boy, will 3
, We
hold out the
| “Now, Harlequin, old
!{ whether youn or I can
| He made several attempis to mount,
| which the horse resisted by Dimging.
| Suortening the reins, and holding the
| near side ear along with them in a
| grasp of iron, he pliced his toe in the
stirrup and in an instant was on Harle-
quin’s back. A furions plunge .
way across the yard, the horse
alighted on the ground with all four
feet close to each other, his head be-
tween his fore-legs, his tail well in, and
his back bent like a cat's
het A dog harks at ber. pu}
| this bucking, though 1 againand
| again, failed to unseat therider. Round
and round spun the maddened gray,
bucking and squealing like a pig, but
his rider's vise-like legs retained
grasp. All at once a strap was seen fly-
ing loose about the cantle of the saddle.
* He's slipped his
bound to come off now,” ex one
of the stockmen. With each buck the
saddle slipped further on to the horse's
withers. At last a furions buck sept
the plucky rider to the ground,
and the bridle, which he had
off in his ;
the horse, smashing the saddle with &
kick which he intonded for its owner.
Inspection showed that the gray
horse was again canght and
the crupper was tied to the tail with a
piece of twine. On mounti
to be used. and an hour
stop at the rider's bidding. But the
subjection was real, for the
A Theory About the Moon,
‘When the earth was
Dr. Ball, astronomer ror or Treiand,
it went round so fast that the day was
only three hours long. The e:
liquid then, and as it spun round snd
round at that fearful speed, and as the
sun caused ever- tides on