w Meadow Hymn. Only when soaring sings the lark, Struggling to fields of purer air; Silent her music when she sinks Back to a world less glad and fair, Only when soaring sings my heart, ¥Flutt'ring on tremulous wing to God Fainter the musio as I fall, Hush'd when I reach the lower sod. Lark of my heart this morn astir, Upward to God on eager wing ! Rise with a burst of grateful song, Carol the best that love can singl | — Richard Storrs Willis, en IN After, After the shower, the tranquil sun; Mier the snow, the emerald leaves ; Silver stars, when the day is done ; After the harvest, golden sheaves After the clouds, the viclet sky; After the storm, the lull of waves ; Quiet woods, when the winds go by; After the ba'tle, peaceful graves, After the kusdl, the wedding bells; After the bud, the radiant rose ; Joyful greetings from sad farewells; After our weeping, sweet repose, After the burden, the blissful meed ; After the flight, the downy nest ; After the furrow, the waking seed ; Aster the shadowy river, rest, -— George Cogper, ROCK CREEK CHURCH. “It is the lact girl I shall send to Europe,” said Mr. Bravoepeth, « “Very likely,” returned his wile, “as it is the only girl you have.” “She has become thoroughly dena- tionalized,” coctinued the father. “She thinks American soil only fit to make mud on overshoes and American men nothing but clod-hoppers. Her head is full of foreign* notions, and she'll marry nothing but a title. She'll have none of my money to carry to a title, let me tall ber,” said Mr. Brance- peth, putting s«It in his coffee. * Where she came by such folly I don’t know. There has never been anything like it on my &:da of the house. Your head, to be sure, was a little tu ned when you first came to Washington, and went to an executive dinner—" “Mr Brancepeth!” “Well, I must find fanlt with some- | body. To have your only daughter! come home s changeling, and pot be able to upbraid your wife about if VOLUME XV. HALL, CO., PA.. AUGUST 3, wor mom wo NUMBER 3L ¥ dent" | Bhe was not ready for any definite par. | “That's right, dear. That's exactly | ley, and shook her reins loose, and took | what I want youn to do. Keep that up, | the detourc! a square, to come upon | and don't falter, if you love her your | him face to face on the other aud nar. | self. Don't you pretend to consider for | rower street. ‘Are there two of you?’ | one moment that he is honest, virtuous, 'she oried, before she thought; and then well-born, the son of a good husband, a | she had unavoidably drawn up to ths man of intellect and promise" sidewalk, * Isn't this roval summer?" | “For heaven's sake, Louisa, what is she said. * There is something de- the end of all this?” | licions about this heat.” “I am urging you to oppose Paull «When you are not on foot,” said | Despard's suit for Jessie's hand, which | pan] Despair d, with the fall look of a | be ba'f confided to me. As for me, I | pair of briliiant hazel eyes at the lovely | encourage Jassie in no such nonsense. | oh ject hall baried in flowers, 1 am board that she shall RIAITY Privoe | “To be sure. And the place is so | Vinca, of the Aretine legation, | tull I cannot ask you to drive. Could | “Hang the Aretine legation! What! you find a spot under all this bloom do we want of foreign legations at all? “Could 1 find a spot in paradise ? | Commercial agents would do all the | And the young man had presently found | business America has with foreign eoun- | it, and bad taken the reins and turned | tries, and rid us of Sila pat of lounging | the horse's heads about, | rascals preying on our daughters, | “Why, what are you doing? where | “Very absurd in you, Mr. Brance. | are you going!" she exclaimed, peth. vince Vinca is a gentleman to i x Back to the greenhouse to send all the tips of his fingers. You might know | this fragrant truck up by messenger. that by the way he followed Helen | And then into the air. I bave won my Manser home, and into the very vesti. | oase and must get out upon the open bule, the other twilight, when he had | somewhere.” never seen her before, or by the wayhe | ‘You have won your case I" lay down along the floor at Mrs. Bote. ‘‘Yes, ove of them. The other I ler's ball, when he thought every ome shall know about before long.” worth while had gone down to the sap- * I didn't know you had two of them. perroom. It is a noble pleasantry ' In the supreme coart ?” which adds spice to society, As for the “One of them. And one in the su. | affair with Miss Long, I don't know how = premest court of all.” : he could be expected to marry Miss ‘There is no understanding legal Long when she hadn't a pennyand he lore. Some States have judges and hadn't either. Miss Long needn't have | justices, and others have chancellors sat round the parks under the same um. | and suirogates. And there are courts brells with him if she hadn't chosen. | of equity and admiralty, and superior | black bread and garlic in the ruined | heard of this ove" arch of an old castle, it doesn’t follow | ‘Yet you are the jury who will bring that Jessie will. She will bring the | in the verdict, the jadge who may per | revenne and he will bring the rank. | haps draw on the biack cap" And jst imagine, my dear, our Jessie a | " Why don't you say executioner and | princess of the old Roman empire!” | all? “Is it possible,” gasped Mr. Brance | surdly.” | peth—‘‘is it possible that my wife 1s| * It makes a man talk absurdly" talking this way?’ { “To be driving down Fourteenth | would be hard. This isthe most shock- ing coffee I" . * Salt doesn't improve coffee.” ** Give me a freeh cup. What did you | send Thomas out of the room for? Because I had something to say.” | “Not fit for his ears. They are long | enough.” i “You don't feel sd very badly, if you | can be making jests.” * Sorry jesting,” said Mr. Brancepeth. | “And when Jessie was such a fresh, | sweet, innocent beauty,” { “She is u fresh, sweet, innocent beauty now," said her indignant mother. | “And she will come out all right, if you only give her time. To go to Europe, and spend a year in a foreign minister's family, as she has done, re- ceiving the attention belonging to such a position, and known to be an heiress—" “Kuoown to be an hewress. By heavens! who knows her to be an heiress? I don’t. If she carries sail this way, I won't leave her a penny.” “It's no use to talk so, father | Everybody knows you are a rich man, acd she's your only child. And there's no danger of any one marrying her for money merely, when there's everything to love in her.” “ What do these foreigners hanging round her care for love? They think of nothing but money, and let her break her heart afterward, for all they will do to hinder, It makes my blood boil to look st them —musicale here, snd cotillon there, and morning calls, and strolls, ard sending the coach back empty to walk home from church. Now, Loaisa, I tell you plainly she must stop all this, ozI'll take the whole kit away from town, and move out on the Oulorado raach, and stay there, and you may tell herso.” * Tell her yourself, father.” J can’t—you know I can't.” “ As for your Colorado ranch, there are as many foreigners in Colorado as there are in Washington, And now do be sensible, and listen to reason s mo- ment. You know Jessie will many somebody —" *¢ | know Jessie will marry somebody?” roared ber father. “How do I know it? I don’t know it. No other man shall ever lord it over my child the way—the way—" “The way you have lorded it over me,” Then Mr. Brancepeth laughed. “Well, I have abused you sometimes, Louisa,” he said. “Ob, don't flatter yourself,” replied his wife ; “1 bave been a matoh for you. And so will Jessie be for as good a man, if you don’t marry her toa foreigner by forbidding it." * Do you mean to say, Lonisa—" “Yes, I mesn to say. And now if you will listen to reason, as spoke of your duing—" Mr, Brancepeth threw himself back in his chair with an air of des tion, “How can I help listening,” said he, “if youn will talk? Although as for the eason—" * And I will talk. Do you remember young Paul Despard, who came here for you to get his appointment in the treas- ury 2” “Of course. Why shouidn’t I? People don’t forget their friends’ chil- dren in a day. Aud I should never have been senstor of the United States _if Paul Despara’s father had not stood my friend. Besides, hasn't he been here repeatedly i” “Well, then, you remember that when he had been here six months, and seen what life in office was, and what it led to—" “Rusts a man’s soul out!” * He went through tue law school, threw up his office without any ado, and went West to practice law?’ “Well, well, I don’t know that I've the time or interest to follow that young mags career along thismorning. What of it?” “This of it. He came back a month or two since fo try a conse before the su- reme court, and is likely to be here or some time still, I suppose.” “And you want to ask him here to stay? That is all right. Insist upon it. Bat to retnrn to Jessie.” “Dear! dear! dear! was there ever anything so stnpid as a man? Now, as I was going to say, Paui Despard is a vising man ; he has become a leading lawyer, the soul of honor, noble, gener- ous, tender and true. 1'vescen s good deal of him—" #80 I should judge,” said her hus- band, dryly. “Ob, goon! Heap it up, and don’t mind me. A senator of the United States, with three committees and sub-committees waiting, has noth. ing-else to do than to hear his wife paiat the excell: vies of the first young man—"' “ My dear, are yon iosing your mind?” gaid Mrs Brancepeth, withdignity., “If you have no respect for yourself, have some 'or my gray hairs” And she ar- ranged the pretty silver love-locks on her white forehead, that made such a contrat with the infantile rose of her complexion and the dewy brightness o her eges that people looked twice to see if they were mistaken in supposing her either an elderly lady or a young girl. Her husband gazed at her much as he did twenty five years ago. “To resume,” said he. “This perfect 3 ye tere. And is as much in love with Jers: 7 Jessie!” cried Mr, “Why? Don't you think it a nice | street and out on the Rock Creek road | { on a summer morning? Do you know, | “Nice? ' Are you quite beride your. I think Washington is more delightful | self ? Shall I answer a fool according | in summer than in the height of the | to his folly? | gay season. I am always rather glad | Mrs. Brancepeth leaned back inher | when papa is kept here by the long | chair and laughed till the gooa man | session. Hot, to be sure—New Orleans | was frightened. ‘And so you reaily is a good deal cooler—but one feels | think it silly? What do you suppose | alive in such heat. I like it, and fancy | Now, Mr. | Imight grow a soul in it, as a flower | Braccepeth, I never saw anybody whose | expands—" : | ercepiiona were so slow. But I hoped **And you are not talking absurdly | could bring you to see that if you | now?’ oppose Despard and I urge Vinea, by| “No, indeed. Three months ago I | what ‘may be called a ‘resolution of | hadn't any soul ; three weeks ago I was | forces’ we may bring about whal we do | just beginning to be conscious of ona ; She won't do what I want her | to-dav—" { to do, and she will do what you don't! * Well, to day? | want her to do.” { *“Oh, what magnificent woods! To | Mr. Brancepeth lookel at his wife | think of such forest glades so near a | with a gleam of intelligence at last. | great city! Just look down that dell— | “ A pretty daughter you have, if that is | it is dark agd dewy still. Ob, see the | the way to do!” be cried. **A pretty | checkered sunshiue on the turf! Why | way you have brought up your daugh- | are you stopping here? But it is too ter!” And then he banged from tha | lovely to go on.” ! room like sn angry hornet, leaving cn “I am stopping here for you to get | the table Prince Vinca's note asking for | through talking against time,” said her | an intorview that evening, just as Miss | gompanion. “Do you suppose I came mother wiping her eyes with her kand- | [ feel it in the core of my being. No Fatciiet, iatisit # sho oriod | one ea take the sense of it away from “Oh, what 1s It, mamma?" she oried. | me. Buat"—as the flush mounted her “Your father,” said Mrs. Brancepeth, | dark cheek—‘I have something inf burying her face again in the cambrio— | nitely more beautiful and precious “your father—he—he isso indignant | beside me, and it is perbags in the to think of Paul Despard’s presumption, | power of some one I despiss to take he threatens to bury us alive on the | that away from me irrevocably. No; it Colorado ranch. He—he says I have | is my turn now. and you must listen to brought you up in a pretty way, and | me, Just now I have the advantage of he is—as mad as a March hare ! _ | all the world; I am beside you I hear “Or a hatter,” said Miss Jessie. | sour voice, I feel your presence, and I But that means midsummer madness, | hesitate to break the spell. Yet I must; not papa's tempers. I declare I think | for to-morrow, perhaps, Prince Vinca paps might be satisfied with baving | may ask you to be his wife; to day, I arranged his own marriage and let mine | alone.” “Oh, Jessie I” “Well, this isa free country, mamma, and I am a grown woman, and I shall marry where I wish to, and shall nat marry where I don't wish to, papa to the contrary notwithstanding.” And the naoghty-tempered Miss Jessie picked out her lace rufiles and smoothed out her pink bows, and looked at her mother and laughed. ‘ Would yon, mamma ?’ said she, “I don't know, Jessie,” said Mrs. Bsaneepeth, wiping her eyes so vigor- ously that they looked as if tears bad been there. “You know I am old-fash- | ioned. I have beliefs, superstitions—I | don’t know what. I shouldn't dare dis- | obey a parent in such a serious matter, and expect anything but disaster to overtake me. And here—I can't say— perhaps your father is right. He knows ul Despard is only making his way, and Prince Vinea—" “Well, what of Prince Vinca?” said the impatient beauty. “Well, he’s a prince to bezin with.” “Yes, I know that,” said Jessie, more quietly. ‘‘And I don’t pretend to say, mamma, that the thought of being a princess hasn't attractions, But that man-that man, mamma—he hasn't any attractions.” “Prince Vinca!” said her mother. “Why, I'm astonished, Jessie. He looks like 8 Roman emperor.” “Yes, just like one of those old beasts that exhausted the empire for their pleasures, And I should be one of the things led captive in his tri- amph” “Or he in yours.” “1really believe, mamma, you want me to sell myself for a title.” “J want you to be happy, Jessie,” said Mrs. Brancepeth, with dignity. “If Paul Despard were only a prince in the Aretine legation—" * Dear me, Jessie, why will yon men- tion Paul Despard’s name when you know your father would cat you off with a shilling—" “Paul Despard would be glad of me without a penny to my name,” said Jessie, “Wouldn't Prince Vinea ?” “Really, mamas, I don’t—believe— he would. With all his gasconade shout sdoration, I don’t believe he would.” , * Are you certain, Jessie?” said the diplomatic lady, who was gradually working things in the (irection she wished. “You don't mean that you think he is trying to marry you for your money? I should hate to have people say yon had bonght him.” “People will say that anyway. Tt isn’t in human nature not to say spiteful things. That ix the claw of the original wild beast in as” “By the way, Jessie,” raid her mother; “1 have an appointment with Mrs, Lerpinards at 1, and I wish you would order. your phanton and drive down to the greenhouse. Durkee has gone to market, end Mrs. Bunce says we haven't half enongh flowers for din- ner.” And her mother sat thinking of the lovely picture it would be when the child shon:1 come driving back in all her snowy laces and muslins, her hat wreathed with its apple blossoms, and the carriage heaped with the hot- hoase flowers, But Miss Jessie did not come home that way, I might, indeed, say that Mies Jessie never came home at all, but that would hardly be the exact state- raent. As she drove down the avenue, tak- ing back the flowers, and making all the beautiful pictura ker mother’s fancy had drawn, and morn, Miss Jessie “In Joe with demand that you shall become mine.” Then toere was silence. There was the sunshine checkering the turf, the stream warbling below, the leaves mur. muring above, the birds replying to oné another in broken phrases of song. And there was a whirl of broken thoughts sweeping through the young girl's brain and taking possession of her. The diadem of a princess, the plain black silk of a lawyer's wife, the cheerless palace, the cottage with its wild-rose hedges, and love, love, love. Why should papa want her to leave him for that fortune-hunting attache? That, if she understood her mother—and of course sha did—was all that his opposi- tion to Paul Despard meant. And more of a title won by some old robber, cenfuries since, than of happiness to- day! She would let them know she was not to be driven like kittle eattle. She should think, at any rate, that one's mother would sympathize with youth, and hope, and-—she turned and looked calmly and gravely at Despard, waiting and surveying her, and the color flashed all over her face, and the tears were ready to sparkle on the tips of her long lashes, as she finished the sentence in her mind-—and love * Are you going to stay here all day ? she asked presently, without looking Finn I have an answer to—" “ Your demand. Don't you think that is rather an autocratical begin- ning I” “ f Low suing . May bring wooing Tuto its own undoing,’ ” said Despard. “Did I understand,” she said, de- murely, then, ‘that you demand I should become your wife to-day? Won't to-morrow do?’ *‘ | was not bold enough to dream of such a rapturous possibility,” he said. “But I was unwise, To-morrow will not do. You remember the little brown chapel, Rock Creek church, out here a mile or two? You shall give me your answer there,” * Do you really think it will be best?” she said. ‘Are you willing to take a wife who, if I'rince Vinea had positively asked her first, might have been his wife instead of yours?" As for the remainder of the drive that morning, from this delicious rest- ing spot to the little brown chapel, where the minister happened to bo at the door with a throng of pickaninnies at Lis heels, it may be best for us to remeriber that there are times and places where ‘two are company and three are none,” So you see after all it was not Miss Jessie that returned to the Brancepeth mansion that evenivg, where guests were assembled, dinner waiting her ar- rival, and her mother as vainly endeav- oring to conceal her anxiety as a bird that twitters on the stem when her nest- lings are threatened. Mrs, Brancepeth felt, and by no means vaguely, that something was on band, but what she knew not, although her keen woman's wit gave her suspicions and hopes; Jessie not yet returned, but gone all day; Paul Despard not yet arrived, but invited to dinuer; Mr Brancepeth still detained in his private room downstairs by a caller, Prince Vinca, as Durkee whispered to her; dinner spoiling, ard Mrs, Brancepeth hot with rage in the background; and possibly the prince persuading her husband to his wishes as «xpressed in that morning's note! It was while she was in the worst of her worrying, smiling now at the secretary’s jests, and trying not to smile at a for. eign minister's English, that the descried, some way before her, a tall daughter of the house was letting her- . salf in, and, with Paul Despard beside her, was tapping at her father's door and angry, time, you kucw, because I'm afraid dinner's wailing, and you ought to be upstairs toe, you neglectful man ! Now, papa dear, I knew you never would give your consent, and so I have just taken me and weleome me back, and him, too,” said the breathless young woman, * for I don't see why you shouldn't love me loves me too." “Jessie! What in the world are you you? bewildered father. “Oh, I have married Paul Despard this morning I" 9 Her father surveyed her one wild mo- ment as she stood there with her white and blushes and coming tears, while he it stood on end. “Well!” he said, Then suddenly, trouble. fused their alliance. Prines,” he said, turning on his gnest behind the serean, “ whatever my own wishes might bave wen speaking, circumstances have given you your answer. Permit me to presets Mr. Paul Dospard, my son in- aw, I trast this turn of affiirs may not deprive us of the pleasure of your friendship. Good-evening—good-even- ing." “ He bas ordered the man to drive to G street,” oried Jessie, in a moment after the door slammed. “I knew he would, Tha: Palmer girl's— Wall, she's welcome, and J dare say he will be when ho arrives.” . “Mrs. Despard,” said her father, “you must go up to dinner as you are, I don't know what vour mother will say. As well as I eonld make out this morning, she was so bent on your mar- rying this princelicg that for my part I It's all highly improper, though, Jassie," he said, trying to sabdue too broad a smile—* improper and unfilial and’ and expensive; for if I only had an other daughter, I should" “Cat me off with a shilling? know better, papa. your only thine,’ ” she sang. *“ And besides, if you did, I shoulduo’t mind, provided rou loved me just the same, for my husband is a rising lawyer, who has just won his second cise. And now you must come up and hide me {rom the day of mamma's wrath. I guess yon had better tell her before all the people, and then she can't scold.” But I fanoy that when Mrs, Despard her husband's, a little anger inirnded on her joy, to thick she had fulfilled, without intending if, the command, per's Bazar, A Deesd of Honor, Our little brave army on the plains is both an explorer of the wilderness und a guardian of the frontier. In order to ao its double work it requires the aid of men who know both tie country and the Indians. have become famous. who has been a government scout for the last fifteen years. Ho is a sober, quiet sort of a man, and so heroic greeted him 8s a comrade. manhood of the man isshown by one of his desperate adventures, narrated in Colorel Dodge's book on “Our Wild Indians.” In 1874 General Miles, while opera- ting against the Indians, sent six men, Chapman being one, with dispatghes to department headquarters. One morning as the party was ridiog along every map was wounded by a.volley, and in an instant the Indians appeared on every side, Dismonnting and abandoning their horses the band moved to a “bul- falo wallow,” a shallow depression in the prairie. By working hard and fast the depression was so deepened as to afford cover. OQae of the men, Bmith, had fallen from his horse at the first fire and was supposed to be dead. Becing him move slightly, Chapman said: “ Now, boys, keep those redskins off me and I will run down and pick up Smith, and bring him back before they can get at me.” Laying down his rifle he sprang out of the “wallow,” ran with all speed to Smith, seized and attempted to shoulder him, * Did any of you ever try to shoulder a wounded man ?” asked Chap- man, when telling the story. “Smith was not a large man, one hundred and sixty or seventy pounds, but I declare to you that he seemed to weigh a ton. Finally I laid dowa and got his chest aoross my back and his aris around my neck, and then got up with him. It was as much as I conld do to stagger unde: him, for he couldn't help himself a bit By the time I had got twenty or thirty yards about fifteen Indians came for me at the fall speed of their ponies. They all knew me, and yelled ' Amos! Amos! we've go: you now!" “I pulled my pistol, but I couldn't hold Smith on my back with one band, so I let him drop. The boys in the ‘wallow’ opened on the lodians jast at the right time, and I opened on them with my pistol, There was a tumbling of ponies and a soattering of Indians, and in a migute they were gone, I got Smith up aeain and made the beet pos- +ible time, bat before I could reach the ‘wallow’ another gang came forme. I had only one or two shots in my pistol, 80 I didn't stop to fight but ran for it. When I was within twenty yards of the ‘wallow,’ a little old scoundrel that I had fed fifty times rode almost on me and fired. I fell with Smith on top of me, but as I didn't feel pain, I thought I had stepped in a hole. The Indians couldn't say around here a minnte, the hoys kept it red hot; so I picked up Smith and pot safe into the ‘wallow.’ “ ‘Amos,’ said Dixon, ‘you are badly hurt.’ “No, I am not,’ said I. “Why, look at your leg.’ ‘“ And ure enongh, the leg was shet off just ab ve the ankle joint, and 1 hed been walking on the bone dragging the foot behind me. In the excitement [ never knew it, nor have I ever had any pain in my leg to this dav.” The surgeon at Camp Sapply ampn. tated Chapman's leg below the knee, more than two weeks after the recep: of the wound. In a week thereafter I had to take away his clothing to keep him in bed. He is as still useful and as ready to fight as pny two-legged scout, This year we are to have a ship-load of Mormons from Eurape evéry montl, SUNDAY READING, Falth is not Always Falth, Words mean very much or very lit. tle, sccording to the use made of them; and nocording to the spirit and to the measure of understandiog in those who hear them, Words that are employed with referense to spiritual truths have pre-eminently a sugge tive rather than a deficitive value, They, peculiarlyy wre liable to great misconception, Perhaps there is no word that has a wider range of values, according to the use made of it, than the word *‘faith.” { It runs from a dry and juiceless bundle | of abstract statements to the life-giving | aud life enjoying act of connection with the personal Savior that seoures rest { in Him forever. In any discussion of { the nature or the elements, or of the | results of faith, it is all-important that | it be understood on both sides of the { disoussion in what sense the term “faith” is used, Heligious News and Notes. | Mr, Moody expects to limit his visit | to Paris to two weeks. OI course he will hold meetings, Montana has one bishop, eight ree- tors, five chureh buildings, 380 commu- | micants, 481 Sonday-school scholars, Russia bas 18,000,000 Protestants, and { half as wany Roman Oa holies, and the | to ench of the two churches, According to the stati-ticil report of | the missionary society of tue Oumber. land Presbyterian chureb, it had among i i i FACTS AND COMMENTS, WHITY “BILL” TRAYERS, soma mo An “srea of 93,000 acres has been | planted with trees in Kansas under the | new law relating to arboriculture, Ths | cotton tree was largely planted on se- | count of its rap'd growh, and 6 000 | acres wore set with walnut trees, Ths | expaotation 1s that this will operate, 1n | ovurse of time, to relieve the climate of | its extreme dryness, Captain OC. W, Williams, of the United States army, has invented an spparatus | for establishing telegraphic communion. | tion between railway trains moviog on the same live of road from any point | and st any time. It is claimed that once perfected the system will prove an | effectual preventive of collisions, and | among railroad men as well as the peo- | ple at large will be bailed as a great | scientifie triumph in tife interest of hu. man life and safety, The census returns of manufactures | iu twenty cities give ths following fig- | ures in regard to th: employment of | children in factories: Philadel; his, 14, | 8560; New York, B08; COCincinnati, 5 024; Chicago, 4 709; Baltimore, 4 111; | Brookliye, 8,423; Boston, 1,228, Cleve. | land. 1.3885; Detroit, 1,220; Newark, 2.680; Jersey City, 750; Pittsburg, 3,- | 245; Provigenos, 1.061u; Miuwaukee, | $65; Ban Francisco, 1,081; Bt. Louis, | 2 042; Washington, 267; New Orleans, | Ths is a con- | i | consed preachers, seven i forty ruling elders, twenty-nine dea- | cons, twenty-four organized ocongrega- | tions and 527 communicants, | It bas been decided to build a eathe- { dral at Spires, in Bavaria, asa memorial | of the Diet beld there in 15629, in which | was promulgated the famous “‘protest” | against the Papal dootrizes whence | arose the name *‘ Protestant,” The king of Bavaria, himself a Roman { Outholie, has given a large sum toward { it, {| According to the New York Times rthere were thirty-eight Presbyterian | churches in that city in 1845, with a | membership of 13,460, In 1872 there | was one less church and a falling off of { thirty-three mombers. In the decade { was a gain of four churches and 4,728 { members. The Catholic church has far | outstripped all others in recent growth, {the Lutheran coming next, and the | Episcopal third. The New York Kvangelist says that here are at present in the F ji Islands | about 900 Wesleyan churches and 1,400 | behools, The communicants are num {bered by thousands. The schools are | attended by nearly 50,000 chil iren, and | oat of a population of avout 120,000,over { 100,000 are reckoned as regular stiend- {ants at the churches. Idolatry is | scarcely known, and cannibalism, for | which these islands were so famons only | fifty vears ago, has been voluntaril | abandoned ave by a single tribe, At the twenty-third spnual council of { the Protestant Episcopal diocese of | Texas the following statistics of Chris. | tian work for the past year were pre- s-nted : Baptism, 383; confirmations, | 146; communicants, 2,425; Sunday. { school scholars, 1,641 ; teachers, 225; | clergy, 22; lay re ders, 34; Ladies | Aid socieiies, 21 ; churches consecrated, { 12; chapels dedicated! 1; oomer- | reported, 28 The total contributions | reached $51,070, being nearly §20,000 { above that of any previous year, WISE WORDS, we determine our deeds. are ills becavse we hoard them. Wounds of the heart are the only ones that are healed by opening. Great men and geniuses find their true places in times of great events, Troubles borrowed and stolen ont. number by far sll others in the world, The means to promote any end are as necessary as the end to be promoted. It is easy to look down on others; to look down on ourselves is the difficulty. On the neck of the young man sparkles no gem so gracious as enter. prise, The reproaches of enemies should quicken us to duty, and not keep us from it. He who lives only to benefit himself confers on the world a benefit when he dies. It is easier to set a man fighting against all the world than to make him fight with himself, In all matters of right and wrong judge for yourself, decide for yourself, stand by yourself, When a man has not a good reason for doing a thing, he has one good reason for letting it alone, Make no more vows to perform this or that; it shows no great strength, and makes thee tide behind thyself, Wao cannot conquer fate and necessity, bat we ean yield to them in such a way us to be greater than if we could. If you have an opportunito to doa generous action, do it. It is a very pleasant reflection to go to sleep with. Man wastes his mornings in antici- rating his afternoons, and wastes his afternoons in regretting bis mornings, Mirth should be the embroidery of conversation, not the web ; and wit the ornament of the mind, not the furniture, I ————————— @ured by lasting. An inmate of the Camden eounty in- sane asylun at Blackwoodtown, N. J, Henry Olark by name, recently com pleted a forty-one days’ fast, which he undertook in the hope that it might restore h's mental faculties. Bingularly enough, that result is likely to follow, in the opinion of the attendants at the asylum. The man was watched day wnd night, and every effort was made, short of violence, to induce him to eat, but the evidence is pretty conclusive that for forty-one days nothing went into his mouth except air and water, and only six quarts o' the latter. His condition varied considerably at differ ent periods of the fast, Oa the forty. second day he asked for and drank a oup of coffee, and thereafter for a fort- night has lived npon a simple vegetable diet, consisting principally of strawber- ries and milk, It is confidently ex- pected that he will be discharged as a cured patient within a short time, Just what share the fa t has had in his re covery it is of course impossible to say, but the cate is one of interest to the medieal profession. Begin Mode tly, “The trouble with these days,” says Uncle Millett, ‘is that people won't begin modest. Now there's {ay Jriend John ——, had a fine start in life, but he's petered out. It reminds me o what Squire N——, of Minot, used to say about his danghters, that ‘they flew hizh, hat lit amazin’ low!’ "—Leaviston Journal, i in factories to be future citizsns, A report on agriculture in Italy by | Becretary of Legation Beanclerk has | lately been presente! to the British | thament, Realagricultural progress | as been made in some paris of the | The | land is burdeded with sn overpowering | taxation, and, while the main remedy | talked of is education, the demands sre | for relief from moral and physical safl- | fering.” * Knowledge without means,” | says Mr. Beaunclerk, *' is of little use When the great mass of land owners | have hardly enough to live on, how ean | they lay out money in improvements? | For small proprietors and renters it is | impossible, while there are few large | estates, and even these are gradually | being split up by the abolition of entail | and the constant subdivision of property | consequent thereupon, | Not many people attach much current interest to the Tonga islands, or think of them, save as having given a name | to the perfame of saufl. Yet Kng | George, monarch of the 150 islets | and their 256 000 inbabitants, is second’ | to none in royal dignity. He bas a wrlisment, containing a nch and an opposition, and in 1870, | treasury | when the Franco-Qerman war broke | out, he issued a solemn proclamation of | *‘ striot neutrality.” His son, David | York 88 olier Whe Stutiors, Mr. Williams B Travers is a broker, bauker, flnnooier ard capitalist, He is really interested in the development of the establishment « f the sport of Lorre tscing in the North permspently is largely due These things would have to his wit and bumor than to anything else.’ This is all the more remsrkable pinee he neither writes nor makes speeches in publie. His witticlsms are enrreney must deperd entirely nponthe circulation given them by the listener bumor mellow. Bometimes itstings, yet 01 truth wo closely to always be cum- fortable for the object of the barbed words, Mr, Travers is a native of Bal timore, and was a man growe and mar ried before he left Maryland for the metropolis, Mr. Travers is now touch. n sixty, though he bears He is tall, slim snd wiry. Perhaps upon seeing him for the his years well. prised, for by some absurd process of reasoning which is never justified we associate wit with shortness of stature aod humor with rotundity of person. However one needs but a glance at Mr, Travers’ face to perceive the humor ever in repose, seems siways on the Joist of bresking into lsagh, thongh t rarely reaches it. His eyes are soft and kindly, withal sparkling with that mischief which is irrepressible. Apart from his wit, Mr. Feavers is a moat interesting man, and his talk is graphic, incisive sud epigramuastio, apd over it sll fapeufully plays his bumor, giving ®ast and point to all he for wit, humor and geniality it will not do to assume that his mental qualities are summed up with that statement. He is a stroog, wise and able man, well in formed avd a thorough man of business and affairs He has an obstruction of | ous and but he hes the wesk unoss of philosoph zivg ou the common: | planes of life. | Standing st the olub window will of the | » man upon the opposite | street and said: | “The coincidences of life are singn- lar sod frequent. Occult influences draw men and into sition, when they sre not all, have no knowledge of esch other What is | Travers a short time ago, he ait n So; ad ¥ s00gn Ead and decreed that the should descend in scoording to the succession in Turkey. not become who sultan's rule. which he possesses would naturally lead him there but for this stammer. Yet, 80 far from its being an affl ction, in the sence of its being a boresud annoyance of his wit and to give zt to bis say- ings. In fact, much of the spics would Anything and anybody falls subjset or his stammer. Shortly alter he nad sud fell into an essy cha’ Daring the curse of the conversation his friend said: { i ¥ liberties were bys Yarkieh soseain. In 1566 | title e Ezyptian ruler was, | firman of the sultan, on | “Viceroy” (which means simply ve in Egypt) 'sultan's | Knedive-el-Miss,” | + Knedive,” which, in the Arabic tongue, i. l= i | the right to send envoys abroad sud to | maintain a native army sod nevy. Bat | the rultan still Janae} the sy | {or imperial raler ; an oy tribute of 0) of Eats a was | paid (and still continues to be ) | to nothing less than a marriage with | manach de Gotha, But royal sire snd | royal son together do not sarpass in | splendor one of their own subordinates, isons, He lives in a gorgeous palace, | has his table furnished with gold and : | i | tainers, and wears a resplendent court: | costume that cost §1,000, | Although almost an infant compared | with the original States of the Union, au industrial, money-making State. silver-minine, remunerative. Then wheat-raising be- Nearly 10,000,007 gal. No trustworthy statistios | of fruit grown, but the report says that | 2,000,000 pounds of dried, 4,086,430 | pounds of canned and over 7,0 0,000 | pounds of green fruit came eastward by | rail last year. These exports obtained | ches | being in especial request, ani the Cali- | fornia orange is also said to be coming 4 into vogue. Only four or five yeirs ago | the price of grapes on the spot ranged from $8 to $9 per ton for o to $15 or $20 ior the choice varieties, These ; rices have already doubled, and, | as viniculture presents few diffienlties | in California, those epgaged in it are | reported to be making splendid profits. Unfortunately, the phylloxerahasv its unwelcome appearance in Beve.ul places, and the California farmers may | possibly discover, therefore, that | wheat-growing pays best, after all, inary sorts | The census statistios relating to | Amorican fisheries are interesting read- | ing. These figures show fisheries to | have been worth in the value of prod. uots the very handsome sum of $45, 000 000 in the year 1880, This was the price, moreover, that was paid to the producers simply. At wholesale prices the pecuniary return for the same prod- nets reached the neat little dortune of $00,000,000. The products incinded dried ood and pollock, smoked herring, halibut and mullet, pickled and spiced fich, salt mackerel, canned salmon, lob- sters, clams, oysters, crabs, shrimps, cod and sardines. The consumption of these is constantly increasing abroad, and very protitsble sale for them has been built up in England, France, and Germany. As yet it appears, however, the pickled fish of American waters are but seldom sent abroad, although great quantities of pickled fish are consumed in Enrope. It il recorded that since the Berlin exhibition of 1880 American fish have become popul r on the conti- nent and agencies for theirsale have been established in very many of the leading cities of Europe, Another fact of in- terest is that the boneless American codfish has been adopted as a standard article of food by many regiments of the German mtmy. Proof of this grow- ing popularity of our fish is afforded in the statistios of exports to Europe. In 1869 the exports of fish reached only $134,788, according to a local commer. oial rural. Last year there was shipped abroad $1,902,100 worth of fishery goods, Of this amount $403,620 was ricsived from the exports of oysters to England alone. Simple Fractions. An Anstin teacher was explammng fractions to a rather dull boy. “Now, suppose you and your little sister were nuder a tree, and you found a peach, and you wanted her to have as mu h as you, how would you go about Lv? *8hake her down another peach out of the ‘ree, and give her the littlest one,” —fiftingse The director of the United States mint estimates the circula‘ion of the principal countries of the world at: Gold, $3,- 221,000,000; silver, $2,5638,000,000 ; “Why, Bul, you stammer more since | 1ut0 the rul'an’s treasary. Qa A in Naw York— | practically the relstion which Joi hate lived iu Now York mans than to day between the sultan snd the “B.b-bhigger piace,” replied Travers. | bhodive. The sultan Lad Stara A This delight/ully illogi a! resson suf- | kiad of exterior con over Bos flord as an ex slanaticn, : aod claims the right to enter Egypt Upon setting in New York be became | und quell revolt, and to depose or sus- a member of the skek «x:hange | isin the reiguing khedive. Meanwhile Daring the call of the list he essayed | the interests of various Earopean to bid upon one of the stocks and st | powers — notably of Eagland and France the same time another broker bid the | i ue had » singular and complex in- same price, A dispute foliowed as to op a hy called ve been practically gov- erning Egypt. over the kbedive's hea: | for the past {ur or five years. | insists om controlling on named the price first. To this Mr. “It m-mavele be, Mr. P president, ils : $ i i: = : : 4 2 “I 5k ¢ to.ul specie, £5,759,000,000; of paper, £8.664.000.000, fore d-did, b-bat I'll bbe bang d if I Amid the roar of the exchange the But Travers does not always coms off the close of the board, he was going *‘H-hold, b boys,” he said to his companions, *‘ we'll have some {-faa.” Then addressing the man and pointing to one of the parrots, he asked : “ O can that p parrot t talk ?" 4 Talk ? replied the man, in tones of great contempt. “If he can't talk peck.” *C ome on, boys. The fan is p post. poned until natil another d-day,” said ravers. And later, as bis companions the b-bottle.” Some time ago a young man made a street under Mr. Travers’ advice When if he ventur: d his gains again and ad- stroet but to safely invest his money, bis family. The :dvice was followed the house, Some time after the young man was settled he met Travers and was asked how the house-suited. “The house is all right, Mr. Tra- vers,” wasthe reply. * Bat I am very much troubled with rats.” “(G-geta ¢ cat,” stattered Travers. “ 've had a dozen, but the rals actually drive them out of the houre.” * (3-get a d-dog,” urged Travers. ‘I know where you ccan g-get a g- d dog. Harry Jennings is m my friend and ho won't cheat you. I'll g-go with oun." ! So they set ont together, and reach. ing the dog fancier's place, examined the dogs for sale and one was selected. Harry then put a di zan rats or more in the pit und the dog was thrown in to show how quickly he coald kill them. The dog did dispatch them, one after the other, until only one was left, He was an old graybeard —nearly as large asthe dog. Asthe terrier made for it, it sat upon its hannches and canght the dog by the lower lip instead of being caught by the dog. The terriex yeiped avd ran about the pit shaking and trembling, but Mr. Rat held on firmly, terrifying the dog out of all his canine senses. Travers was running around the pit in great excitement, and fically shouted out: “B b-buy the—b-b-buy the r-rat!" “ Larry" Jerome is oclebrated as a story-teller in New York circles. His presence is always welcome, for he has always a good story to tell. a fresh one, and he rarely repeats himself. For this reason he is always considered a ood addition to every circle. One ay he had heen entertaining a few friends at the Manhattan club, when the cligne was joined by Travers. Alter a while ‘Larry’ exolaimel : «Oh, Bill, by G orge I've got a new story. Something entirely fresh! Ill tell it to you if you'll listen.” « AM right,” said Travers, with an air and tone of great bravery and courage. “I'll stay if the r-rest will.” The story was never told, but Jerome id for the wine amid ths laughter of Bis friends, There is a gettleman, who fs a gen- Hleman in the sense that he isa man of wild snd gentle manners, alwaysvourte- | pols by reason of Foe ahr holds =» | financial interest in the geal Sues | canal; that that canal is nearest military way between E snd the | British empire f India; that eight | per cent «f the mercantile ionnage | which passesanuuslly through the canal | goes under the British-flag. Besides, | Englishmen hotd . ge gsmity of the Egyptian bond. d . A ad - { protest t to {| P paymen Sutures | managing Egypt's a o | The interest of Frivce | English Sustee] i» Egypt is twotoid | France, too, holds a | the bonds, this | France recently undertaken to annex Tunis, a neighbor of Egypt, and a hammedan state ; snd is anxious to limit as far as the sultan’s influence in North Africa. Both Eng- land snd France bave appealed to the sultan to use his authority to down Arabi Bey's revolt, and have more scknowledged the sultan's right to interfere in E