SR g——
FOR SOMEBODY'S SAKE.
As o'er life's mountains and vales
Qur pilgrimage journey we take,
We add to our trouble and care,
And heavier burdens we bear,
For somebody's sake.
Though deeply we're wounded by grief,
Though the hear: may continue to sche,
Our sorrows we keep out of sight,
And our faces are smiling and bright
For somebody's sake.
‘We labor and toil all the day,
And many a sacrifice make,
And at night may be weary and worn
With the trials we've cheerfully borne
For somebody's suke.
Though humble our dwelling may be,
Though simple the food we partake,
Our happiness may be assured,
And poverty’s ills be endured
For somebody's sake.
What wondrous tasks we achieve!
What wonderful deeds undertake!
And how sweet is the victory won,
When ull we've accomplished was done
For somebody's sake.
The struggle that's only for self
No joy among angels may wake,
But the brightest of crowns will be given
To those who have suffered and striven
For somebody's sake.
A
How 1 Saved Two Lives.
It was only a few days after my
mother died that old Kate, the blind
woman who lived in the pext room to
us, lost her little dog, and offered to
share with me Her scanty means of
living if 1.could fill his place for her.
{ was glad enough to accept her offer,
and so, day after day, I led her through
the streets, and at night shared her hum-
ble cot. It was in that way, through
passing so often the same houses, that
I noticed and was attracted towards
he inmates of one.
It was an elegant brick dwelling,
with bow window, and in that window
often sat a lady with the gentlest and
mest beautiful face 1 had ever seen,
while leaning at her knee would be a
oy of about twelve years, with eyes
and brow like her own, but features in
general more like the dark handsome
face of one who'would sometimes come
‘and talk with them for a while,
It was all the same to old Kate where
1 8d her so long ‘as ghé knew by the
sounds about her that we were in a
populous neighborhocd, and I would
often pass and repass that house with
4¢he bow window, and its beautiful occu-
pants, as many as « dozen times a day ;
;and so, though they knew me not, I
came to know them all,
The months went off, and summer
came with its pleasant evenings. Then,
when old Kate, worn out, would fall
asleep, I would watch my opportunity
and slip out unheard. Perhaps it was
wrong in me to do so, but surely, 1
thought, no ome would harm a little
girl.
One evening drawn by the splendor
within an open door, I stood looking in,
when a lady who was passing left the
arm of the elderly gentleman she was
walking with and came up to my side.
“Come away, my child,” she said,
earnestly. **Do you not know that is
one of the devil's most deadly traps?
Come away, let me entreat you!"
‘was not afraid—she spoke so kindly,
but it did not seem to me what she
said could be true.
‘Oh, it is too beautiful to be that,” I
answered, ““It is like fairy land.”
Her voice was even more earnest as
dhe spoke again, and there was a bitter-
ness in it, as though she had suffered
through just such a place.
“Put it is so, my child, It is the
straight road to destruction. True, it is
beautiful, but it is so only to entice and
ruin.”
1 walked on by her side for some dis-
tance—the gentleman all that time
never saying a word, but looking, as 1
thought, a little amused—and then she
loosened my band and 1 sped away
home.
Another moonlit evening came, 1
could not resist the temptation to once
more stray out. This time my steps
were turned right towards the house in
which 1 was so much interested.
The lights were lit, but the eurtains
were all down ; and though L crouched
down by the low railings, 1 could see
nothing, and was turning away when a
light carriage suddenly drove up and.
stopped, and a gentleman alighted and
rahi up the steps. At the same moment
the door opened and the lady with the
beautiful face came with outstretched
as 1 had never seen it before—all stained
with tears that yet fell, though with
her ‘white hands she tried to brush:
them away. —y
«Oh, George! where is Gaston
Herbert is {ll—perdaps fe L have
—
sake I had any clue as to where Gaston
is; but I will do my best.”
But ére he had left her I had gone on
the wings of the wind, for 1 knew
where 0 look for himk « Only an hour
before 1 had geen him entey the door
that 1 had heard called the * devil's
most deadly trap.”
1 knocked, and no one answering,
though in my heart I was frightened, I
pushed open the door and entered. I
saw, not this time the great crystal
lights or bright pictures that lined the
walls, for my eyes were fastened on two
forms who in the centre of the room
were confronting each other,
“ You shall pay for your words—and
now!" one was saying; and as he
spoke he drew something glittering
from his pocket,
The mar who was thus threatened
with the weapon was the one I sought.
I sprang forward,
“Stop 1’ I cried, with frantic energy.
Do mot killhim., Herbert, his boy, is
dying, and calls for him.”
All eyes turned with curiosity and
surprise upon me, but I cared not.
The man’s hand with the knife fell to
his side.
‘His boy, Herbert, is ill and dying,”’
I repeated, ** and he calls for his father;
and the doctor says if he does not see
him he eannot possibly live.”
I shall never forget the look of agony
that came in the place of the anger to
the dark face of Herbert’s father,
“ My boy dying, and I here !”
He had been beside himself with
anger, but the shock of my words sober-
ed him, and taking my hand he led me
from the place. Once out in the street
1 tried to leave him, but he held me
tightly.
“If my boy lives it will be you who
saved him,” he said ; ** you shall come
with me.”’ s
Such a pathetic scene it was when
the mother, hearing footsteps, came to
the door and saw her husband. 1 can-
not think of it now without tears,
A couple of hours later the doctor
declared the danger past ; the boy had
seen his father, and his delirium
quieted, had sunk into slumber.
Ro it was that I, Pollie Evans, saved
two lives,
Mr. St. John, true to his word, never
from that time neglected his family ;
and Herbert grew and thrived from his
¢ ildhood (which they told me had al-
ways been delicate) into as stalwart a
lad as ever gladdened a parent's heart.
Twelve years have passed since then,
and I am Pollie Evans no longer. But
I will not anticipate.
That night was the turning point of
my life,
“You must stay with us, my child,”
Mrs. St. John said. “Henceforth your
home is in this house, which but for
you would be desolate indeed. Ican
never repay to you the benefits you have
given to me, but all that is in my power
i shall do. Your real name is Mary,
sou tell me. I had a sister Mary once,
and I love the name, Mary, will you
be willing to let me do what | can to
make you a happy, useful woman 7"
I was at once sent to school. Of
course I had much to unlearn as well
as to learn, but hard work accomplishes
wonders ; and two years ago I received
kindly words from my teachers that
brought a thrill of pride to my breast,
for 1 felt that 1 could at last reach the
ultimatum of my longing, and go forth
into the world and work for myself and
be independent,
One day when 1 thought we were en-
tirely alone—Mrs, St. John and myself
—in her boudoir, I broached, the sub-
ject for the first time,
I was little prepared for the effect of
my words, I knew that she loved me,
though not till then how much. But
though she pleaded, yet I was firm, for
1 had discovered something within my-
self that forced me to do so. But, oh!
it was hard indeed to resist those ten-
der, earnest tones,
“Mary, do you know that to gee you
leave my roof would break my heart ?
You do not speak. Is there, then, no
way in whieh I can induce you to give
up this idea that has gained such a hold
‘over your mind ¥" ~~
“Of course there is, '?veried a rich
voice at the door that brought the blood
in’ a tofrent from my heart to my cheeks,
as pushing aside the curtiine, Hecbert
i. RE Ws ® L 4
His eyes ‘met mine, and fell, A joy-
‘ous light sprang into his handsome face
that face that 1 had long known I
cared for with more than a mster’s
affection, « ‘ 3 ;
“Ask her to stay. as your daughter,
Jmother.,”’ : ,
. As I stood there blushing crimson, a
took mine.
| Herbert St. John, Herbert often calls
me “Polly,” for which I do not chide
him, for I love to hear my old name
spoken in his tender tones, though in-
deed, perhaps, it might be as well to
say that everything is music to me that
cores from his lips,
ra ——
The Shetland Pony.
———
The native live stock of Shetland can-
not generally be commended, but the
well-known pony of that part of the
world is perfect of his kind. As carts
would be out of place on the steep sides
of the hills, ponies are kept by every
family for the purpose of carrying peat
for winter use, The fuel, after being
dried, is placed in baskets called *‘cas-
sies,’’ one of which hangs on each side
of the animal’s back, a strong, broad
back, admirably adapted for the pur-
pose of bearing heavy burdens, The
“Sheltie” is an animal which for many
generations has been bred and trained
under special and peculiar circumstan-
ces, and hence his physique and general
character, his hereditary instincts and
intelligence, his small size and his puri.
ty and fixity of type. A pony belonging
to a breed which has bad to pick its
zigzag way down a steep declivity dur-
ing many generations must be sure-foot-
ed, Bythe same rule a pony, whose
grooms and playmates include a dozen
juveniles—the - children of the neigh-
borhood, who roll about underneath
him or upon his back—must be gen-
tle, and the same pony, living on the
scathold on air sometimes, rather than
on herbage, must be hardy, The
pony of the Shetland Isles is in fact the
offspring of circumstances, He is the
pet of the family, gentle as the Arab’s
steed under similar training. He will
follow his friends indoors like a dog,
and lick the platters or the children’s
faces, He has no more kick in him
than a cat, and no mere bite than a
puppy. He is a noble example of the
complete suppression of those vicious
propensities that some ef his kind ex-
hibit when they are ill-treated, and of
the intelligence and good temper that
may be developed in horres by kind-
ness, There i8 vo precedent for his
running away, nor for his becoming
frightened or tired, even when he has
carried some laird from Lear-
wick to his house, many Scotch miles
across the hills, He moves down the
rugged hillsides with admirable cir-
cumspection, pannier fashion
with two heavy ‘‘cassies’ of peat,
picking his way, step by step, sometimes
sideways, in crossing boggy spots, where
the water is retained and a green carpet
of aquatic grass migt deceive some steeds
and bring them headlong to grief in
the spongy trap, he carefully smells the
surface, and is thus enabled to circum-
vent the danger. In the winter the
Shetland pony wears a coat made of
felted hair, and specially suited for the
occasion. His thick winter garment is
well adapted for protecting kim against
the fogs and damps of the climate, It
is exceedingly warm and comfortable,
fits close to the wearer's dapper form,
and is not bad looking when new. But
when the coat grows old toward spring,
at the season when the new one should
appear, it becomes the shabbiest gar-
ment of the kind that you often see. Its
very amplitude and the abundance of
the material render it more conspicuous
when it peels and hangs for awhile rag-
ged and wern out, and then falls bit by
bit till the whole of it disappears. The
number of ponies bred in different dis
tricts depends on circumstances. 'A
good breeding district must possess a
good hill—that is, a hill lying well for
shelter, and well clothed with native
vegetation, such as heather.— Henry
Evershed in ** Forestry.’
Peanut Flour.
———
stout
loaded
No doubt] ere long “‘peanut flour”
will be an important product of the
South. Virginia is set down this year
for 2,100,000 bushels, Tennessee for
250,000 and North Carolina at 135,000
bushels, these being the chief States
engaged in their eultivation, and those
in which it was first introddced from
Afriea. In Virginia they are called
“peanuts,” in North Carolina *‘ground-
peas,” in Tennessee ‘‘goobers,™ and in
Georgia, Alabama and Mississippi
“pinders,'" Virginians are beginning
to turn the peanut into flour, and say
it makes A peculiarly palatable ‘‘bis-
cuit.” In Georgia there is a custom,
now growing old, of grinding or pound-
ing the shelled peanuts and turning
them into pastry, which has some re-
semblanee, both in looks and taste, to
that made of cocoanut, but the peanut
pastry is more oily And richer, and, we
ctrse to America in slavery, she cer-
universall
Recent Legal Decisions,
o——
NEGOTIABLE INSTRUMENTS--TRANS-
FER AFTER MATURITY — Mey ENSES, —
GG made his promissory note to 8, who
indorsed it and then sold it to abank. It
was not paid, and the bank transferred it
for a valuable consideration to M. As be-
tween G and 8B there was an agreement
that each should pay half of the pote ; but
neither the bank nor M had any notice
of it. In an action for the note against
G alone he set up the defence that he
was liable for one half of its amount
only, but the trial Court gave judgment
against him for the full amount, In
this case—— Bank of Sonoma vs, Gove—
the Supreme Court of California, on
the appeal of the defendant, affirmed
the judgment. Judge McKinstry, in
the opinion, said: “If a party who
transfers a note or other pegotiable in
strument after it has matured, and who
had purchased it before maturity with-
out any knowledge of any defence to it,
his transferee acquires as good a title as
he himself had, although it was overdue
and dishonored at the time of the trans-
fer, Here the note was discounted by
the bank before it became due, without
any notice of the agreement between
the original parties, and its transfer
carried with it a valid title to the in-
strument.”’
Banking —PusrLic Fusps USED BY
OFFICIALS TO PAY FALSE NOTES, —
The Treasurer of a town in Connecticut
made promissory notes, as such Treas-
urer, and had them discounted at a
bank where he kept his public account.
The proceeds of the discount were placed
to his credit as Treasurer, and the funds
of the town were from time to time de-
posited and placed in that account
After several renewals these notes were
paid by checks drawn by the Treasurer
on this public account. He then became
a defaulter to the exact amount of the
checks drawn by him to pay these frand-
The town demanded that
the bank should pay its deposits in full,
but the bank issisted that it
tified in considering the notes as valid
paper of the town, and refused to strike
out the amount of the checks from the
ulent notes,
was jus-
account. An action was then brought
town Fast
Hartford va. American National Bank —
of
Connecticut, upon the case being carried
Ol
for the disputed sum
and the Supreme Court of
Errors,
that
town.
advised
for the
Judge Pardee, in the opinion, said:
there for adjudication,
judgment be entered
“Only in cases where, notwithstanding
violations of restrictions in charters,
the corporation has received and
tained for its advantage that which in
good conscience it should repay or pay
for ; or only jn cases where, if it is com-
pelled to repay money or pay for proper-
ty applied to its use by the unauthorized
act of an agent, the judgment will in-
flict no loss upon it can a judgment be
given against a municipal corporation
or its money be retained, or it be com-
pelied to pay. But, in this case, the
bank having loaned money to a public
agent whom it knew had no authority
to borrow, it cannot invoke the aid of
this principle of equity without demon-
strating that, upon all the
judgment in its favor will inflict no loss
upon the town,’
reo
facts, a
NOTE — MATERIAL
PLACEOF PAYMENT, ~—
twelve
PROMISSORY
ALTERATION
A note was made payable
months after date, or before if
goods were sold. No place of payment
was stated in the ncte, but Was
agreed verbally that it should be collec.
ted at the residence of the maker,
The payee, however, inserted in it that
it was payable at “First National Bank,
Sioux City, lowa.”” It was then sold
before maturity, and without any no-
tice of the agreement as to the place of
payment, to C, The maker refused to
pay the note, and in the action brought
upon it—Charlton vs. Reed—sel up the
defence that the insertion of the place
of payment was a material alteration
and invalidated the instrument. The
plaintiff in reply to this defense claimed
that as the time of payment was in
definite the note was not negotiable,
and that it was not a material alteration
of a nou-negotiable note to insert a
place of payment. The defendant had
a judgment, aud the plaintiff appealed
to the Supreme Court of Iowa, where
the judgment was affirmed. The Chief
Justice (Day), in the opinion, said : “Kt
is insisted that this note was not
negotiable because it is not certain as
to the time of payment. This position
is not sustained by the weight of
authority. It has been decided in Penn-
sylvania, Vermont, Massachusetts and
Kansas that a note payable at a certain
time, whether in the event of a sale or
other contingency, is negotiable. The
cases relied upon by the defendant all
show that the notes there in question
were not payable at all except in the
event of some contingency. The altern-
certain
it
teration, and a material alteration may
be shown to invalidate a note even as
against the indorser thereof for value
before maturity.”
PARTNERSHIP—DISSOLUTION AND
SETTLEMENT—REOPENING SETTLE
-
of the accounts between the members
oné of them filed a bill in equity to
open the settlement and for a new ac-
counting on the general ground that
proper entries had not been made in the
firtn books, in fraud of the complainant,
The Chancellor, in this case—Loesser
vs, Loesser-—refused to give any relief,
on the ground that specific charges of
fraud must be made to give the Court
power to act. An appeal was taken Lo
the Court of Appeals of Kentucky,
when this ruling was sustained. Judge
Prior, in the opinion, said : *‘In every
case where a partner has obtained a
fraudulent advantage of his copariner
equity will give relief ; but when there
has been a settlement of their accounts,
in order to attack that settlement for
fraud or mistake the specific acts of
fraud must be alleged or the manner in
which the mistake occurred set forth.
tates an investigation by the Chancello
of the entire partnership
find out for the complaining partner
whether or not he has suffered by the
settlement that both at the time regard
ed as final. He has no right to require
the Chancellor to make a discovery of
fraud upon such a pleading. — Reported
for Phila. Record,
The Most Elegant Seminary In
America.
n—
It has already been announced that
the Chestnut Street Seminary of Phila-
Pa.,
Cooke,
sion that the mansion
should be devoted to this purpose, and
several months ago he began the need-
ful alterations in his old heme to fit it
for its new Upon these he has
formerly the property of
and
use,
ing the house at a cost of §25,000, Its
accessories and surroundings,
comprising everything which twenty
years ago Mr. Cooke deemed necessary
outdoor
to the completeness of his home, leave
be The
stands on rising ground, commanding
a charming outlook in all
nothing to desired. house
over & richly cultivaled rolling country,
with cottages and
country seats,
dotted beautiful
rounded by forty acres of fine lawns
and gardens, the entire farm or grounds
belonging to it comprising 200 acres.
The railroad station is less than half a
mile distant, the roads are all macada-
mized, there is a gas-house constructed
of granite, by means of which not only
the house but the lawns are lighted, a
beautiful clear brook flowing through
the grounds, a bowling-alley and a
natatorinm. There are conservatones,
hothouses, greenhouses, graperies, and
other comforts and conveniences,
among which should be mentioned sta-
bling for any horses which pupils may
choose to bring, as is not unusual in
such institutions,
The superb Nerman Gothic building,
five stories high, and containing nearly
one hundred rooms, is constructed of
plaster between ceilings and floors, to
make it as nearly fire-proof as a house
can be: and it is supplied with a num-
ber of wide stairways, securing safe
and speedy egress. Mr. Cooke has de-
clared his intention of keeping house
and grounds in their best condition
and sparing no improvement that may
suggest itself to make of the place
everything that can be desired from a
sanitary and material standpoint.
——————— A ———————
The Railroad up Pike's Peak.
The railway to Pike's Peak i8 pro-
gressing. The route is not fully decided
upon, and surveyors are still working
busily. The road will be a narrow-
gauge, thé length about thirty miles.
Trains of three cars will be run, each
carrying forly persons. The officers
are making a point of running the road
where the finest views can be obtained,
views which will be new to the tourist,
not seen from any of the old trails
The first twelve miles of the route will
be of surpassing beauty. New camp-
ing-grounds will be opened high up
among the mountains, where the peo
ple can live in tents, enjoying the pure
air and the wild grandeur of the Rock-
jes, sending down by rail every day for
the luxuries of civilization, and even
getting their daily papers regularly.
Some large summer hotels and sanitari-
line of the road. The Pike's Peak
Railway will be looked upon as one of
the greatest triumphs of engineering
skill in America. No road, in America
or abroad, has ever been aid through
such a wonderful and beautiful scenery.
Joseph N. Heminway, of Troy, N. Y.,
a Rockwood, kis
Our Palates.
mr—
Frioassee or LAus,—Take abreas
of lamb and cut it into pieces about
two inches square. Put the pieces into a
saucepan with a qnartered onion, three
or four cloves, a bay leaf and one table-
spoonful of butter ; cover the saucepan
closely and let it steam gently half an
hour, shaking it occasionally.
Browxsep ToMaTOES, — Choose large
tomatoes and cut them in half ; place
them well with pepper and salt and
dredge with flour, Place the pau over
a brisk fire and let them brown thor-
oughly ; turn and brown the other side.
Serve them on buttered toast,
Barry Lusx.—Warm one pint of
new milk ; stir into it one tablespoonful
| of melted butter ; when quite cool add
| three well beaten eggs, a little salt and
one tablespoonful of powdered sugar,
| beat well together; stir in gradually
one quart of sifted flour ; add one tea-
| spoonful of soda dissolved in a little
| milk. Beat well and pour in buttered
pans. Bake in & quick oven. Tum
out and cut iu slices at table, To be
eaten hot.
Cuickex Toast.—Take the remains
of a cold roast or boiled chicken and
chop up fine, pul in a saucepan, season
with salt, pepper and the round of an
onion finely minced, add a small piece
of butter, one tablespoonful of cream
and just enough water to cover the
chicken, simmer all together fifteen
minutes, break over the meat two or
| three raw eggs, stir all together, pour
| it upon nicely buttered toast and serve,
GERMAN PANCAKE Soup.—Make a
| batter with half a pound of prepared
flour, a little salt and half a pint of
| milk, stir it well and add two well-
| beaten eggs, mix until of the consistency
| of cream, make into pancakes and fry a
| light brown. As each one is fried lay
{ it on a board and cul it up into narrow
| strips, beat up an egg and put it in the
| tureen, add the strips of pancake, and
| pour over them a quart of boiling stock,
| stirring all the time.
| Cream CAKE.—Sift one pint of flour
| into two tablespoonfuls of creamed but-
| ter, add an even teaspoonful of baking
soda, two tablespoonfuls of powdered
| sugar, half a teaspoonful of salt, half
a teaspoonful of grated lemon peel, a
cupful of cream that has soured a little,
| and two well beaten eggs. Mix the
batter, pour it into a buttered and
papered tin and bake in a moderate
oven.
TomaTo with WATER CRESS —
Take three or four tomatoes, scald them
a moment, remove the skin and put
them in cold water a few minutes to
cool ; wipe the tomatoes, and cut them
into slices. Make a plain English dress
ing, have the tomatoes and cresses (an
equal quantity of cresses) in separate
bowls, pour the dressing over, and after
each bowl has stood for ten minutes
mix them well together and sarve.
————
A Pair of Army Shoes.
There was another poor fellow, a very
| small man, who had received a very
| jarge pair of shoes, and had not yet
| been able to effect any exchange. Une
day the sergeant was drilling the com-
pany on the facings-—right face, left
face, right-about face--and, of course,
watched his men’s feet closely to see
that they went through the movements
promptly. Noticing one pair of feet
down the line that never budged at the
command, the sergeant rushed up to
the possessor of them, with drawn
sword, and in menacing tones demand-
ed :
“What do you mean by not facing
about when I tell you? I'll have you
put in ‘he guard-house.*’
“Why, I did, sergeant!” said the
trembling recruit.
“You did not, sir! Didn't 1 watch
your feet # They never moved an inch.”
“Why, you see," said the poor fellow,
“my shoes are so big tnat they don’
turn when I do. I go through the mo-
tions on the inside of them.”
Reproached by A Dog.
———
An old hunter loansd his dog to a
friend, an amateur, and this is what the
amateur said after returning without
the dog : “I never was so disconcerted
as when I caught the reproachfui
glance of the old dog’s eye after missing
as fair a shot as 1 ever had ; and soon,
as I repeated the performance, 1 could
plainly see in his expressive countenance
disgust as well as reproach. Although
1 have stood behind the trap and, amid
the jeers and hoots of the crowd, missed
my ten birds straight, I never was so
utterly demoralized in my life, and of
old dog, with a look that will haunt me
to my dying day, hung his head, and