a
I cannot tell you, Genevieve, how oft it
comes to He
That rather
District m
That row of Aocutionitts “Who stood so
straight in line
And charged at standard literature with
amiable design.
‘We did not spare the energy in which our
words were cl
We gaye the meaning of the text by all the
light we had; ©
But still I fear the ones “who wrote the
lines we read so free
‘Would scarce have reo ognized & their work
in District Numbet T
Outside the snow was mooth and clean—
the winter's thick} laid dust;
The storm it made the windows speak at
every sudden gust;
Bright sleigh-bells threw us pleasant words
when travelers would pass;
The maple trees slong the road stood shiv-
ering in their ¢
Beyond, the white- browed cottages were
nestling cold and dumb,
And far away the mighty world seemed
beckoning us te come—
The wondrous world, of which we conned
what has beer and might be,
In that old-fashioned reading class, of Dis-
trict Number Three.
Wo took a hand at History—its altars,
spireg and flames—
important names ;
We wandered ghough | Biography, and
gave our fancy
And with some fan fell
“good only for ond day;
In Remance and Philosophy we settled
many & point,
And made what peems we assailed to ¢ reak
at every joint;
And many authors that we love, you with
me will agree,
Wore first time introduced to us in Dis
trict Number Three.
in love—
You recollect Susannah Smith, the teach:
er's sore distress,
‘Who never stopped at any pause —a sort of
day express?
And timid young Sylvester Jones, of in*
consistent sight,
Who stumbled on‘ the edsy words and
read the hard ones right?
And Jennie Green. whose doleful voice
was slways clothed ih black?
And Samuel Hicks. whose t« Ones, induced
the plastering all to ¢ rick 7
And Andrew Tubbs, whose various modths
were quite x show to see?
Alas! we cannot find them now in District
Number Three.
And Jasper Jenckes, whose tears would
flow at each pathetic word
(He's in the prize-fight business now, and
hits thie Hard Eve heard):
And Benny Bayne, whose every tone he
murmures d as in four
‘His tongue is not so timid now
auctioneer);
And Lanty Wood, whose voice was just
endeavoring Had to change,
And leaped from hoarse to fiercely shrill
with most sur prisin TANR® ;
Also his siste r ary Jape, full of
prudish glee.
Alas! they re both in higher schools than
District Number Three
: he is an
&0
So back these various ve oipes come, though
long the years have grown
sound uncommonly distinct through
Memory's fele “n ne
And some are full of melody, and bring a
sense of cheer,
And some can smite the rock of time, and
summon forth a tear;
But one sweet voice comes back
whenever sad 1 grieve,
And sings a song. and that js yours, O peer
less Genevivve,
It brightens up the olden limes, and throws
a smile at me
A silver wn amid the clouds of District
Number Three,
-— Wy vill Carleton, is Harper's Magagine,
————— on
And
to me,
Two Hearts So True.
“pittle Blogaom, you make it so hard
for me to say good-bye to you."
“When 2?"
The innocent, surprised, inquiring
face—rrenwntiating was indeed difficult
for John Burrpws. He touched a dim-
ple in her theek, and then aeurl of her
hair, as he might have touched flowers
on a grave, perhaps:
She shook back the silly. wrinkles im-
patiently.
“Wheny John Be i
without a smile, pretty ps she was.
“Nelly, sit down here for a moment.”
They sat down on the pretty crimson
couch before the fire, Seeing trouble
in his face she put heérfhand ih his dnd
he smootheil out the little roseleaf mem-
ber upon his broad palm, more ;than
ever confident hi he looked abit} that
he was right,
“Nelly, you know I love you.”
“Yes, With a blush, for He hid neyer
said it before.
“And Lam very sorry.”
“Why #77 after a pause of bBewilder-
ment.
“Because you are a delicate little
flower, reeding care and nursing to
Step your bloom bright and I am going
to a hardy rough life; among, privation,
ever and malaria, which will try even
my powerful constitution, and where
you must not go.”
“You hte going to the dar West?"
“Yes. My mother must have a home
in her old'Age.’ She is strong now, but
time is on her. You know ull
that she tothe pray 11 wi Ua
“Yes, she has been a good mother.
But you shall take me too, John.”
She won her way into his arms against
this will, ea dhll 12519011 {UBUD
“You will take me, too?’
“No. Did I nottell You that you side
hard for me good-
broke & ath A” 132 2» lo
“John, , what, could I do, without |
you #
He took the litle curousing: isn
me
we i AR
.
+9
ten years yet, Nelly.”
“And then I shall be thirty years
old.”
“*Y es, married and with little chil-
dren, seeing at last that yeur old lover,
John Burrows, was right.”
‘‘He rose to his feet,
“John!” in terror. 1.
“Yes, I am going, Nelly, Little one
—you look 80 much like a woman now,
with your steadfast eyes—hear me: I
did not foresee that you love me—that I
school girl when I saved you from
drowning last summer, and your
satch | of books floated away down the
river and was lost, I came here to see
Gregory, not you. I could not help
Joving you; but did not think until
to-night that you cared so much for
me, Nelly, But, child, you will forgst
me,’
“Never!”
He want on
“Nelly, I shall hunger for you day
and night, more and more, as time goes
on and I get older, lonelier, more weary.
But 1 shall never hope to see you
again. Now give me your hand,”
She gave him both. He raised them
to his lips, but before she could speak
again he was gone.
Shivering violently, she went to the
fire ard stood there trying to warm
herself. She understood it all now
for a trip to New York. He had known
that he was not coming back when she
had bégged him to bring her his photo-
graph from the great metropolis,
but was going on—on—into the dim
distance. This is why he had not prom-
ised,
It was getting late—she was so cold—
she had better go to bed. She would
not go into the parlor to bid her father
and aunt and Gregory good night; so
she crept silently up to her own room.
There the very weight of grief upon her
lulled her to sleep.
But when she awoke her grief sprang
upon her like some hidden monster who
had lain in wait for ber all night. Her
misery terrified her. Why should she
not die? Why should she ever rise
from that bed ?
But when they called her she sprang
up hastily, dressed and went down
stairs, and they were too busy talking
to notiee that she did not know what
she was doing. But, by and by, when
her brother reached more
coffee, and observed that “John Bur
rows and his mother went to New.
York on the first train this morning."
she tried to rise unconcernedly from the
table, und fell'in a dead faint on the
carpet among them,
When Nelly came to she was
undjessed and in bed, and Aunt
Mary was damming stockings at the
foot.
“Oh, let me get up, Aunt Mary! I
don't watt to le here IV
“Now, Nelly, be reasonable ! Youare
sick.”
“Oh, Aunt Mary; I'm not.”
for some
t you haverthe old box of curiosities
in ‘my room to look over, Will you?”
“I don’t know. "*
Aunt Mary went for them. Nelly
shut her eyes, and let the wave in all
its bitterness surge over her once, when
Mise Golding came back, bringing a
box of old mahogany, black and glossy
with time,
“There! —setting it on the beds
With 8 wintry little smile of thanks
she liftea the cover. The old mahog-
any box contained strange things
Pictures on wood and ivory, illumins-
ted manuscripts, webs of strong lace,
antique ornaments, ancient embroider
ies, great packages of old letters, sealed
flasks of unfamiliar perfume, ancient
brooches of red. gold, fingeér-rings of
clumsy-set gems tied together with
faded ribbons, a knot of bair fastened
together with a golden heart, the silver
hilt of a sword, and lastly, a tiny octa-
gon portrait of an old man, done in
chalk upon a kind of vellum and en-
closed in a frame of tarnished brass,
“Who is this that is so ugly, Aunt
Mary 7?
“That, they say, is my great grand-
father, Nelly.”
“What is it painted on-this queer
stuff
“Well, it is a kind of leather, I be.
lieve, They used to write on it in old-
“He is uncommonly ugly, isn’t he ?
| said, Nelly, wearily.
As she spoke the little case fell spart
in her hands, A yellow, folded paper
was revealed. She opened it and saw
that, it, was, written upon. 7
“Why, bless my soul, what have you
up in as alarm,
'' She it from Nelly's hand.
seid Te cam bo the wl ‘she cried,
Nelly looked on in dumb auroras
Aunt Mary read a few words, and then
| rushed away in wild agitation: to
LA
Siok TA
and se much confused talking
she never heard before, By and by they
all waited upen her iu a body.
“Nelly,” said her father, sitting down
upon the foot of the bed, “you are an
heiress,”
“This is old Grandfather Golding’s
will I” exclaimed Aunt Mary, flourish-
ing the bit of paper.
“Jt seems to we he was very eeccen-
trie,” Gregory condescended to explain,
‘““He was very rich and bad some hard
sons and some grandsons who promised
to be harder, and he fell out with the
whole set, who were waiting for him to
die. He declared that no money of hi“
should encomrage the young people's
excesses ; a little poverty would help the
family, and the fourth generation
would appreciate his money and proba-
bly make good use of it,
“When he died no will could be
found, and though there was a famous
struggle for the property, it went into
the hands of trustees, through the oath
of the lawyer who drew up the will, and
there it has been, descending from one
person to another and accumulating in
value, until you and I, Nelly, are as
rich as Croesus,”
“How, Gregory 7"
“Ain't we the fourth generation ?
Father was the only child, we his only
children ; all the back folks are dead
and it slides down to us on greased
wires, Hurrah for Grandfather Gold-
ing I”
“Is this true, father ?"
“Yes, my dear. The property is
chiefly in Leeds, England, The house-
keeper who came over last summer, you
know, happens to kpow all about it.
It is in safe bands and our claim is in-
disputable,’’
What did Nelly do ? The little goose !
Instead of flying off in thoughts of car
riages, and dresses of cloth, of gold and
a trip to Europe,
the pillows and
breath: *‘Oh,
John I"
And it was no castle in air.
» Three months proved that Nelly Gold-
ing was the mistress of gold mutold
almost. And then a little note went to
Kansas, saying :
she buried her face in
murmured under her
John! Oh,
dear, dear
the
Dear Jous:
a fortune Will
ww you witl
for me now?
NzioLy.
I am waiting £
you come
And he came instantly ; and though
some might have sneered al his readi-
ness, the heart of the wife was always
at peace,
She knew that John Burrows loved
her truly. Grandfather Golding’s money
built up a commodious Western town
paved streets, raised rows of shops,
erected dwelling houses, founded banks,
libraries and churches; and Nelly
finally lived ‘out West.” But she had
opportunities of seeing pioneer life,
and she said: ‘John was right:l
should have died in a year had 1 lived
in poverty.”
AAA RS SNA
Why Mechanics Don't Get On.
——
We were much interested the other
day in drawing from one of the old
practical mechanics of Cleveland the
secret of hispuccess., Said he: *‘1 have
always made it a rule to do my work
so well that it left a good impression on
my employer,”’ There is more in this
than at first appears. Hard work is
j one thing, conscientious work is an-
f other. A hard worker may outwardly
conform to all the requirements of the
shop ; he may also be in his place at the
starting of the machinery; he may
take short noonings, and be “may be
among the last to drop his tools at
night, but after all he may utterly fail
to get on in the world, and why? Let
our experienced informant answer : |
know of a young man of just that kind.
He works hird enough and wants to
succeed, but some how he can’t. He
came to me for council, and I found out
that he was slighting his work. That
is, in his anxiety to turn off a large
amount, he neglected the finish which
always tells on good work. The con-
sequence will be that, unless he makes
a change, when times are dull he will
be one of the first to be dropped by his
employer.’’ Superintendents and fore
men notice these defects more closely
than many are aware. The man who
slides over his task, who lacks in
thoroughness, who lets an unfinished
piece of work leave his bands, is mark-
ed. Inthe unwritten law of the shop
he is barred from promotion, while the
conscientious workman is morally cer-
tain of advancement. Is the ten-
dency of the day in the direction of
better finish to work? We think it i
As machinery is brought into competi.
tion the strife will be to secure superi-
ority in cheapness, simplicity and finish,
Here it is that the thorough workman
| brings into play all the resources of hia
skill and honesty—his ‘‘mechanical’
moral sense,” it has aptly been called.
Here it is, too, that the slovenly, or
’| enreless, or hasty workman utterly fails.
There are some forms of bad work that
can be deftly covered up, but the com-
of life bring the inevitable
his heart in the work ;
‘who no’ only does his task. b
Women in India,
nine
Degradation Put Upon the
Wife and Widow,
On the day of her wedding she is put
into a palanquin, shut up tight and
carried to her husband’s house. Hit
erto she has been the spoiled pet of her
mother ; now she is to be the little slave
of her mother-in-law, on whom she is to
walt, whose command she is implicitly
to obey, and who teaches her what she
is to do to please her husband ; what
dishes he likes best and how to cook
them. If this mother-in-law is kind
she will let the girl go home occasionally
to visit her mother,
Of her husband she sees little or noth-
ing. She is of no more account to him
than a little cat or dog would be,
There is seldom or never any love be-
tween them, and no matter how cruelly
she may be treated she can never com-
plain to her husband of anything his
mother may do, for he would never
take his wife's part. Her husband
sends to her daily the portion of food
that is to be cooked for her, himself and
the children. When it is prepared she
piaces it on a brass platter and sends it
to her husband’s room. He eats what
he wishes, and then the platter is sent
back with what is left for her and her
children. They sit together on the
ground and eat the remainder, having
neither knives, ferks nor spoons.
While she is young she is never allowed
to go anywhere,
The little girls are married as young as
three years of age, and should the boy
to whom she is married die the next day
she is called a widow, and is from
henceforth doomed to perpetual widow-
hood—she can never marry again, As
a widow she must never wear any
jewelry, never dress her hair,
sleep on a bed-—nothing but a piece
matting spread on the bard brick fi
and somet
The
never
of
iT,
that
and no
matter how cold the night may be,
imes, in fact, not even
she
must have no other covering than the
thin garment she has worn in the day.
She must eat but one meal of food a day,
and that of
in two weeks ste must fast twenty-four
hours. Then not a bit of food, not a
drop of water or medicine must pass her
even if
the coarsest kind : and once
lips—not she was dying. She
must never sit down nor speak in the
presence of her mother-in-law, unless
to do so. Her food
must be cooked and eaten apart from
other women's. She
degraded woman. She may never even
look on at any of the marriage cere.
monies or festivals, It would be
évil omen for her todo so. She may
have been a high-caste Brahminie
woman, but on her becoming a widow,
any, even the lowest servant, may ordes
her to do what they do not like to do,
No weman in the house must ever speak
one word of love or pity to her, for it is
supposed that if a woman shows the
slightest commiseration to a widow she
will immediately become one herself.
It is estimated that there are 50,000
widows in India under sixteen years of
age. The prevalence of suicide among
young females is so great that it has
been brought to the attention of the
courts. This can traced to the
oppressive control excercised by the
mother<in<daw in bousehold matters
over the daughter-in-law, independently
of and unchecked by the interference
of the husband. The son is expected to
take the part of the mother against the
wife,
she commands her
is a disgraced,
an
be
I AOS A
Mores and Materials.
All rich, costly, fancy fabrics are
imitated in more ordinary tissues, such
as woolen brocade and glazed woolen,
in linen and cotton goods, Skirts
for suits of these figured materi-
als are very narrow, and when of cost-
ly tissues they are invanably of alpaca,
or of ordinary faille covered with fancy
drapings. Sometimes the undershirts
have two deep lace flounces, which fall
over a silk plaiting, while the overdrese
is plaited. The *“‘coquille’ apron is every
suitable for light fabrics, It is sewed
to the belt in close plaits, which are
folded down underneath. The plaits
become wider toward the back, so as
to form a kind of shell trimming, which
is taken in with the draping. This
same arrangement of draping is below
the tournure disposed in two shell-shap-
ed puffings, the lowest one fastened
against the lower part of the skirt un-
a | der ribbon loops in the colors of the
tunic, - For skirts of light fabrics puff.
ings and full drapings are mest used,
Skirts for young women are covered
with tiny flounces alternating in em-
broldery and lace, Satinetsare striped
or stamped with designs of birds’ beads,
flowers, ete. Painted satinets are of
a very fine q of goods, and are
generally trim with imitation
brownish lace, Stamped piques will
also bo employed. Scant mantillas are
to be worn over dresses of this kind
They will beof Valenciennes, ma
deep rufiies to match, Old point and
Valenciennes laces are pieferred to any
neck ruchings are the styles, as well
as large “‘pierrot’’ collars. Many fichus
are in one piece. The most suitable
style for a rather stout figure is the
Marie Stuart shape. It forms a very
narrow vest, which terminates in a
point on the waist. A becoming style
for a slight person is in the shape of
an sce of clubs turned upward, which
makes the bust appear larger,
Cloaks of fancy woolen goods dre to
be much worn, A very good quality
of tartan is employed for this purpose,
The cloaks serve for earriage wear,
dusters and waterproofs, The favorite
color for these is “pain beni.’ The
shape is a shirred Prussian blouse,
with the sleeves broad at the hand and
raised on the shoulders, where they
are often gathered. These garments
are lined with heavy faille in the same
color, which is sewed plainly against
the goods, 80 as to form a kind of body
for the shirrs to sit against. These
blouses may also be lined with silk or
satin In the new shades, in striped or
plaid designs. Many of these are of
‘corah des Indes,” lined with satin
merveilieux in bright hues, Some of
these garments will be of ecru tulle
lace, lined with corash. They will also
be the rage for children, and are
beautiful when of red foulard or of
**Adrianople,’’ made so as to complete-
ly cover the toilet, Children from 5
to 6 years of age wear these blouses
with large Aureole hats and red
socks,
A ————— A A ——
What They Knew Four Thou-
sand Years Ago.
From one of these books, compiled
after the manner of our modern ency-
clopsedias, and the compilation of which
is shown to have been made more than
H000 years B. C. it has been ascertained,
which has long been supposed, that
Chaldea was the parent land of astron-
omy ; for it is found from this compila-
tion and from other bricks, that the
Babylouians catalogued the stars, and
named the constellations ; that they ar-
ranged the twelve constellations that
form our present zodiac to show the
course of the sun's path io the heavens 3
divided time into weeks, months into
years ; that they divided the week, as
we now have if, into seven days, six
being days of labor, and the seventh a
day of rest, to which they gave a name
from which we derivéfl our word *“‘Sab-
bath,’ and which day, as a day of rest
from all labor of every kind, they ob-
served as rigorously as the Jew or the
Puritan. The motion of the heavenly
bodies and the phenomena of the
weather were noted down, and a con-
nection, a8 I have before stated, de-
tected, as M., de Perville claims to have
discovered, between the weather and
the change of the moon. They invented
the sun-dial to mark the movements of
the heavenly bodies, the waler clock to
measure time, and they speak in this
work of the spots on the sun, a fact
they only could have known by the aid
of the telescopes, which it is supposed
they possessed, from observations that
they have noted down of the rising of
Tenus and the fact that Layard found a
crystal Jens in the ruins of Ninevah,
The “bricks” contain an account of the
deluge, substantially the same as the
narrative in the Bible, except that the
names are different. They disclose that
houses and lands were then sold, leased
and mortgaged ; that money was loaned
at interest, and that the arket-gar-
deners, to use the American phrase,
“worked on shares; that the farmer
when plowing with his oxen, beguiled
his labor with short and homely songs,
two of which have been found, and, to
connect this very remote civilization
with the usages of te-day, I may, in
conclusion, refer to one of the bricks of
this library, in the form of a note,
which is to the effect that visitors are
requested to give the librarian the num-
ber of the book they wish to consult
and that it will be brought to them ; at
the perusal of which one is disposed to
fall back upon the exclamation of Solo-
mon, ‘“That there is nothing new under
the sun.”’—Chief Justice Daly, in Pop-
ular Science Monthly.
A ————
How He Helped Them Oyer.
————
Two of our belles while walking out
the other day came to a ditch near the
railroad grade at Montelair which they
did not know how to get over. Seeing
a young man coming along the road
they appealed to him for help, where-
upon he pointed behind them with a
startled air and yelled out “Snakes I"
The way those girls crossed that diteh
—_
Agricultural.
The raising of sheep is of the greatest
benefit to the land, because wherever
they feed new and sweet grasses grow
and flourish, and the weeds are destroyed,
Farmers should raise tutnips and feed
them to sheep,
Waar Ax OLp Farwer Bays.
~This is the advice of an old man
who has tilled the soil for forty
years,
I aman old man vpward of three
score years, during two score of which
I have been rich and have all I need ;
do not owe a dollar; have given my
children a good education, and when I
am called away shall leave them
enough to keep the wolf from the
door. My experience has taught me
that
1. Oneacre of land well prepared and
well tilled produced more than twe
which received only the same amount
of labor used on one,
2. One cow, horse, mule, sheep or hog
well fed is more profitable than two ke &
on the same amount mecessary to keep
one well,
8. One acre of clover or grass is
worth more than two of cotton where
no grass or clover is raised.
4. No farmer who buys oats,
corn or wheat, fodder and hay, can
keep the sheriff from the door to the
end,
5. The farmer who
the papers, sneers at book farming
and improvements, always has =
leaky roof, poor stock, broken down
fences, and complains of bad “‘sea-
son.”
6. The farmer who is above is busi-
ness and entrasts it to another to man-
age soon has no business to attend
to,
7. The farmer whose habitual bev-
erage is cold water is healthier, wealth-
ier and wiser than he who does not re-
fase to drink.
GerTING Rip SToMrs. Ex-
Sheriff Jokn T. Pressly gave a noval
entertainment at his farm northwest of
the city, yesterday afternoon, which was
witnessed by at least a hundred of his
friends from the city and washugely en-
joved. Mr. Pressly has one of the finest
farms in Marion county, most of it un-
der cultivation. In several, however,
which had been lately cleared, were a
number of large stumps, and after work~
ing at them for several weeks the rotund
ex-official secured the servicesof “Prof.”
Jenny, of Lafayette, whom he em-
ploved to blast the remaining ones
out with “Hercules powder,” as the
‘professor’ styled it, which, how-
ever, is nothing less than dynamite.
After blowing out a number of
them singly with great success, Mr.
Pressly conceived the idea of blow-
ing up all the stumps in a forty
acre clearing simultaneously, and
this was the entertainment which
the visitors witnessed yesterday after-
noon.
The field selected contained at Jenst
forty acres, and not less than forty
huge stumps dotted its surface. Iliols
were drilled in the roots of these, on a
level with the ground, and cartridges
were inserted and connectad with a bat-
tery by means of wires, All the pre
liminary arrangements were perfected
about noon yesterday, and the blast
touched off about half past two o'clock.
The work of Lhe explosion was entirely
satisfactory, and every stump was
blown to atoms. Pieces flew upward
two or three hundred feet and were
picked up several hundred feel away
from where they originally steod. The
experiment was entirely satisfactory,
and will probably be repeated by other
farmers in that vicinity. Indianapolis
J wal.
ne nt In
Paying For His Whistle.
Not many years ago, when a lofty
building was on the point of completion,
the mason was in the habit of whistl-
ing to the Ilaberer who attended
him whenéver he wanted a fresh supply
of mortar, and as the scaffold on which
he wrought was rather small, this oc-
cured very often during a day's job.
A joiner, who was fitting in a win-
dow immediately underneath, noticed
Pat answer dutifully to every call from
the mason, and thought of playing a
trick on him by imitating the whistle,
and thus be brought him a hodful of
mortar when there was ne room for
it. The mason told Pat that he bad
not whistled, so he had no other alterna
tive than to trudge back with the load.
This having occurred the third time dur-
ing the day, Pat thought he would
watch to hear where the whistle came
from. He had not watched long with
hod on his shoulder when he heard the
identical whistle underneath where he
never reads
OF