“TONIGHT; A DAY DREAM.
For thee love's stars shall shine to-night,
And ound thy pillowed head
God'sange's in their homeward flight
Shall resurrect thy dead.
To-night the flowers of youth that grew
Along the shaded ways
Aud smote thine eyes with light that flew
Through all the later days.
To-night those flowers shall bloom once
more
And all thelr little gleams
Of beauty hud of fragance form
Into thy vexing dreams,
To-uight the songs of morning sung
* By childhoods lips aglow,
Shall sing themsclves in strains that
As shadows come and go.
come
To-night the songs as yet unsung;
+ AS yet but feit in beams
Of soul-fire from life's mists upsprang,
Shall sing themselves in dreams,
To-night God's radiant afterglow
«8 hall linger in the air
Till stars of midnight lash and flow
Into the dawn of prayer,
A RAY OF SUNLIGHT.
“Quiet, Bess! steady Fan!”
Jack Trevor gathered the reins more
tightly in his grasp, and touched the
horses with the long circling lash of his
whip.
“Five minutes more will accomplish
the distance if we can maintain this
present rate of speed,” he remarked to
his companion whe had taken out his
watch and was anxiously consulting its
crystal face,
“And will the place afford shelter for
our party?”
“Sheltez!”’ Jack gave a low whistle,
“Why, you could quarter an army in
the old barracks and have room to
8 3, 1?
“ve minutes seems but a short. pe-
riod,” said Laura Decker, glancing
ruefully at her crisp muslin gown with
its dainty garnishing of creamy lace and
blue ribbons; “but the floods willl be
upon us in earnest before the expira-
tion of that time.”
“Farewell, my love,” murmured her
cousin Rettie pathetically, furling her
sunshade under whose tim of soft pink
silk her bright brown eyes were wont to
peer out beseechingly. ‘‘You cost me
a pretty sum at Schaffer’s, but the ele-
ments will have mercy upon yon, my
beauty.”
“And my mauve sateen,” wailed
stately Miss Johnson, surveying the
said miraculously fashioned garment
with actual tears, that she did not dare
let fall on her delicately tinted cheeks,
for a cogent reason that she fondly im-
agined was known only to herself.
** Are you afraid, Miss Beckwith?'’
Lawyer Hunter leaned over and was
looking into the girl’s face, thinking
what a strong one it was, with its deci-
ded mouth and darkly-fringed grey eves.
“Afraid? No. Why should I be?”
She spoke a little impatiently, and let
her gaze wonder back to the great mas-
ses of black clouds that lay piled above
the horizon-like ebon mountains, the
lurid lightning flashing fitfully above
their ragged peaks.
A sudden peal of thunder startled the
horses into a mad gallop, and brought
an hysterical scream to the lips of Miss
Johnson,
“Oh!” cried little Rettie Trevor, un-
der her breath, her face growing very
ping unheeded to the yellow straw that
had earpeted the bottom of the roomy
old vehicle.
“‘Don’t shiver so, child.”
It was Margaret Beckwith who spoke,
and she turned to the little limp figure,
she quickly divested herself of her long
wrap, and hid crisp muslin, dainty rib-
folds.
“But you will take cold yourself,”
remonstrated Lawyer Hunter.
“J am not a tender plant,” she re-
sponded laughingly touching with one
slim band the dark blue of her cloth
dress. **I do not attend picnics clad in
gossamer attire when——""
“Eureka! at last!”
It was Jack Trevor's big hearty voice
that rang out, and a moment after he
drew up the foaming horses with a tri.
umphant flourish of whip and reins.
“Now ladies!”
Ned Johnson seized Rettie Trevor in
his arms, and sprung up the crumbling
steps of the porch. His stately sister
ascended with more haste than .
and just as Lawyer Hunter handed Miss
Beckwith up and followed himself laden
with’ books and shawls, the patter of
great drops sonnded cn the roof, and in
a moment the outside world was a mist
of driving rain and rushing wind, be-
fore which the great trees bent like sap-
lings, and the flowers laid their broken
heads on the drenched earth, and looked
up with pitiful tear-wet faces to the
angry sky that an hour before had been
blue and smiling as an infants eyes,
“0 ye inhospitablo doors,”
uted the irrepressible Jack, strikibg
e panels with such force that the cra-
zy latch gave way and the entice party
sur x into the wy Ao Ball, from
whic gpenel a parlor
sparsely furnished with dingy curtains
and a Sfew moth-eaten couches and
chairs,
“Ugh! it’s damp and musty,” cried
little Rettie Trevor, tip-tilting her
dainty nose in disgust.
“And haunted,” concluded her bro-
ther Jack, looking at her with solemn
would have
city. All went merry as a marriage
bell, till the poor young mother discov-
ered that her lege lord was given over
to an insatiable love for strong stimu-
lJants, Unfortunately, the shock bsoke
her heart, and one fine day she died.”
“And what became of the others?”
““That is as far as my information,
derived piecemeal from the aged father
of our landlord, extends,” concluded
Jack. “I only know that the father
finished his days in disgrace, and died
alone and solitary in this old house,
which is haunted. the superstitious
neighbors aver, by his restless ghost,”
Ned Johnson had managed to entice
that overlooked the tangled neglected
garden. The others were conversing in
pairs, and Mark Hunter stood alone
and unheeded in {the doorway, a heavy
shadow on his face. Meg Beckwith,
looking up from the book whose con-
tents she was carelessly scanning, saw
the shadows, and a sudden look of piti-
ful intelligence crossed her own.
“Mr. Hunter—Mark,”’ she whisper-
ed, crossing the room unnoticed, and
laying one hand on his arm, “I see it
all now. OL, why did you come here?”
“How could I forsee this visit?” he
responded, his iow tone penetrating no
farther than her attentive ear. ‘‘Re-
member that when we left our pretty
picnic-ground in Horman’s Glade, we
expected to return immediately to the
hotel, and not to this abode of dismal
memories, whither the storm has driven
us,’
“Ladies,” said Mark suddenly, in his
usual everyday voice, *‘there must be
same quaint old chambers above, tO
which you long dusky staircase leads.
Who feels in a mood for exploration?”
“Not I,” anwered Rettie, happy in
the company of her cavalier.
“Nor I,” repeated Miss Johnson,
thinking of dust, spiders, and her
mauve sateen, all in one.
The others were engrossed in Jack
Trevor's nonsense, and Meg, gathering
her blue skirts closely about her, swept
them a half-mocking, half disdainful
courtesy from the doorway.
“I am going to lay the ghost,” she
announced, and a moment after stood
breathless on the broad landing above,
her arm closely clasped around Mark’s
as she looked beyond half affrighted at
place,
Hastening her footsteps a little, he
led her into a lerge low-ceiled room,
barely furnished, like the parlor below,
and opening a heavy wooden shutter let
in the dull grey of the afternoon’s wa-
ning light. Meg's face was in shadow,
but the few rays that struggled through
the dusty panes fell full upon his coun-
tenance, and a faint flush colored her
cheeks as she noted the eager express.
ion that rested on it.
Without speaking, he drew a letter
from his pocket, and held it toward her,
She glanced at the address, ejaculated
the one word, “Philip,” and without
opening it put the missive aside with a
firm hand,
“Nay,” he said, and his strong lip
quivered under its covering of dark
hair. “Now that you know all, be
merciful.
darkened with the dreary shadow of sin,
me plead for him.
“Was it so much his fault that he
ed from his wretched parent? Hemem-
ber, he had no
young footsteps and turn him from sin.
“Once he shocked your pure woman-
deed in sackcloth, and as tar as lies in
the strength of weak man hehasstriven
to overcome his depraved habit,
changed lad. Your influence, he avers,
could wean him still farther from de-
struction, aud—you love each other.”
It was well that he did nol sce the
blaze of indignation in Meg's eyes, or
he wonld never nave finished his vehe-
ment speech.
“Mark Hunter,’ she answered, calm-
ly and coldly, for she would have died
shook her frame, *‘you cannot deceive
me,
how yon stood by your cousin, day
after day, warning, advising, counsei-
ing, never impatient, very weary, till
you won him back to virtue? He does
not live in his own strength, he exists in
ours. As far as the world goes, you
ave achieved a noble action, If you
did for my sake—I cannot thank you."
Mark drew his hands across his brow.
“Your words sound strangely,” he
said, with a dreary pathos in bis voice,
“1 did not expet thanks, but’—with a
second quiver of the moustache lip, that
manlike be strove desperately to hide—
“hut -—r
At the sight all the passion in Meg's
stiong nature was roused,
“Because a woman was kind to a
weak lad, whose unstable nature ap-
pealed so irresistably to her stronger
one, was it necessary that the purest
eraotions of her heart must go out to
him also; Why should he have all—
wealth, position, friends, and-—mercy?”’
Mark's rugged features grew sudden
ly stern.
“Stapl” he commanded. ‘*Tell me
one thing. you love Philip?”
Meg gave a little gasp at the abrupt-
ness of the question; then her lips took
on the old decided curve.
- “I could love no une who proved him-
self less than a man,” she responded,
and there was honesty at least, in her
voice,
Ss wl 5 halt
n a hal
awed look on Ne Taco my childhood
was a hard, unlovely one, for I was not
to wealth, as was my cousin Phil-
ip. 1 have edtucatea myself by my own
and have won s n the
th
5
i
:
ji
k
i
i
dripping boughs apd rain-laden grasses
were sparkling diamond-like in its glo-
rieus radiance.
“Mr, Hunter! Meg!”
It was Rettie who called from the
regions below, and the truauts came
down the dusky old staircase much
more slowly than they had ascended,
A second ray from the tiny window
fell athwart them like a blessed omen of
asproaching weal,
“Poor Philip” Mark said, struggling
between a sense of his own happiness
and compassion for his cousin’s disap-
pointment,
“But not poor Mark; echoed Meg
softly, thinking how noble his plain
facetlooked in the golden glow,
““Where have you been?” questioned
curious Jack, as he stood at the horses’
heads, while the party surged out to
tako their places with laugh and jest,
“What have youdtwo been doing ali this
time?"
“We have laid the ghost,” answered
Mark gravely—*‘the ghost of doubt and
misunderstanding that has cast its
shadow over so many lives, Pray lea-
ven it may never walk again!”
“Eh!” said uncomprehending Jack,
wondering at the strangeness of the
reply. But even after he and Megiwere
happy man fand wife, Mark never ex-
plained how his lifo, hitherto so dark,
had at last been {llumined by a ray of
sunlight.
PRCT RS.
Nervous Trouble.
“When I reflect on the immunity of
hard-working people from the effects of
wropg and over-feeding,” says Dr.
Boerhaave, *‘1 cannot help thinking
that most of our fashionable diseases
might be cured mechanically instead of
chemically, by climbing a bitterwood
tree, or chopping it down, if you like,
ather than swallowing a decoction of
its disgusting leaves.” For male pa-
tients, gardening, in all its branches,
is about as fashionable as the said dis-
eases, and no liberal man would shrink
from the expense of a board fence, if it
would induce his drug-poisoned wife to
ry her hand at turf-spading, or, as at
last resort, at hoeing, or even a bit of
wheelbarrow work. Lawn tennis will
not answer the occasion. There is no
need of going to extremes and exhaust.
ing the little remaining strength of the
patient, but withouta certain amount of
fatigue, the specific fails to operate, and
experience will show that labor with
practical purpose—gardening, boat-
| rowing or amateur carpentering-—en-
| ables people to beguile themselves into
| a far greater amount of hard work than
| the drillmaster of a gymuasium could
| gel them to undergo. Besides the po-
| tential energy that turns hardships into
| play-work, athletes have the farther ad-
| vantage of a greater disease-resisting
| capacity. Their constitution does not
{ yield to every trifling accident; their
| nerves can stand the wear and tear of
| ordinary excitements; a little change in
| the weather does not disturb their sleep;
they can digest more than other people,
Any kind of exercise that tends to
strengthen—not a special set of muscles,
! but the muscular system in general—
{has a proportionate influence on the
i general vigor of the nervous organism,
i
i
| and thereby on its pathological power of
| resistance.
| For pervous children my first prescrip-
i tion would be—the open woods and a
| merry playmate; for the chlorotie affec-
| tions of their elder comrades—some di-
verting, but withal fatiguing, form of
imannal labor. In the minds of too
i many parents there is a vague notion
{that rough work brutalizes the charac-
{ ter. The truth is that it regulates its
defects: it calms the temper, it affords
| an outlet to things that would otherwise
| vent themselves in fretfulpess and ugly
passions, Most school-teachers know
that city children are more fidgety, more
| irnitable and mischievous than their
{ village comrades; and the most placid
| females of the genus homo are found
among the well-fed but hard-working
housewives of German Pennsylvania.
oH —
Female Backet Shops.
A correspondent writes of the bucket.
shops which are run by women for the
benefit of their own sex: These women
managers are in certain instances only
tools in the service of some downtown
broker, who really runs the shop and
pays them a salary. The broker knows
that ladies of refinement desire to avoid
notice, and hence they hire a handsonie
brown-stone front where ladies may
come avd go without suspicion. There
are several of those on Twenty-fourth
street, where the tickers may be heard
all through business hours, and in eacha
seore of ladies may be seen jotting down
quotations, which they contrive to see
through the veils which conceal their
identity. There is a very extensive
bucket-shop on Thirty-seventh street
which is counected with the stock ex-
change by a half-dozen wires, a fact
which suggests the extent 6f thelbusiness
transacted within its walls. This esta-
blishment is conducted by a woman of
great financial ability who has made the
system very profitable, but at the ex-
peae of a number of wictims,
has been in the business a dozen
years, Her rule is to demand a margin
of 10 per cent.'on all purchases, and she
charges the usual brokerage, which is
Bi cents on $100 for either buyi or
selling. As soon as an order is p Soe
her she phs down to her broker,
by whom i
L Among this woman's patrons are some
of the richest ladies In the city, who
find stock speculation a relief from
ennui, Other operators are found in
indies Yho gy ohamize on their pin
money for purpose. Some .
making milliners and modistes dabble
in stocks, and then there are those liv-
ing on fixed incomes out of which
squeeze enough to buy an occasiona
. "or “eall.,” Taking sll these
¢ together, a large aggregate is
formed, and in this manner female
speculation is an acknowledged feature
in Wall street New York,
i s——— a I WP
Lorrie Nuun “What is oatmeal
me wis i,
Mamma mado of oats, my
Little Nell — “Oats! Why, that's
hones.”
High Buildings.
The question of theeffect of extremely
lofty building upon the health of the
city is one that ought not to be overlook-
ed. We are accustomed to hear of the
benefits of the sunshine, the general
{importance of a free circulation of ex-
ternal air, and go on; but I cannot help
thinking there is a consideration much
more commonplace which is not sufli-
It is not
always clearly understood that the one
mosphere of our globe is to cleanse; in
plain words, to keep all nature clean and
wholesome, Wherever the air ean find
entrance it forces its way in and laps up
any uncleanliness; wherever it can find
exit it forces its way out and carries off
the pollution—the gases of decomposi-
tion—to be dispersed innocuously
among the clouds. Now, let me use a
coarse expression for the occasion and
speak of the sweat of the city of New
York. Fverybody can see at a glance
what this is. From every bit of road
surface, yard surface, wall surface,
floor surface, drain surface, skin surface,
water surface; from every chimney and
ventilator; from every manufactory,
workshop, warchonse and shop; from
every little heap of refuse or of dust;
from every sink and gully, and from
every pair of lips or nostrils, foul or
fair, there is, hour by hour, day and
night, without a moment's intermission,
forever rising up—borne upon the white
wings of the all-cleansing, busy air—a
perpetual sweat, seeking to escape and
be harmless, but, if repressed and pre-
vented from such escape, capable of
producing no one Knows what amount
of mischief and misery, disease and
death, by reason of iis poisonousness, as
we all 50 well know. Suppose, then, the
city in some parts—not likely to be the
most healthy parts in themselves—to be
covered over to a depth of 150 feet in-
stead of 50 feet, with that hive of bu-
man industry and polluted air which we
call houses, what will be the effect upon
the sweat of the town? It is enough
to say that the amount of noxious mat-
ter overclouding the ground, and *‘sus-
pended” (as chemists gay) in the air
which the citizen's have to breathe, will
be just so much the greater for every
apathetic enough to tolerate such i
thing, and the exigénces of money-
making are sufficiently urgent to make
not more, of the city of New York may
in a short time be built over to such a
height as to render it, in spite of all its
a very nasty oity in which to transact
business.
Logt Cities of the Wea.
Survey, has reported as one of the re-
sults of his last season's field operations
the discovery of several more ruined
ined. The most remarkable was a vil-
lage of thirty-five underground dwel-
lings situated near the summit of one
of Arizona,
for the entire community.
lings were excavated after a common
pattern, and a common pattern and a
whole, They bad no intercomimunica-
{ion beneath the surface, and were only
leading from the suiface by a vertical
shaft to the floor of the main room of
the dwelling. Holes cut at convenient
distances along the sides of the shaft
served the purposes of a stairway. De-
scending the shaft; the explorers found
themselves at the side of an oval-shaped
arch-roofed room, about twenty feet in
its smallest diameter. At the ends and
on the side opposite the entrance, low
doorways connected the main room
with smaller rooms, the whole suite
consisting of four gpartments
A groove eighteen inches deep by
fifteen in width, extending from the
floor of the main room up one side of
the shaft to the surface of the hill, its
boltom filled with ashes and its sides
blackened with smoke, formed the fire-
place and chimney of the establishment.
Around the mouth of the shaft a stone
wall enclosed a kind of door yard. The
wall seems to have served the double
purpese of guarding against snow slides
and preventing the accidental falling of
an inhabitant into his own or a peigh-
bor’s dwelling.
Considerable debris was found in
these ancient dwellings, an examination
of which led to the discovery of many
Curiosities, illustrating some of the so-
cial and domestic customs of the ex-
tinct race. Stone mauls and axes, the
jnplements used in excavating the
dwellings, pottery, bearing a great va-
riety of ornamentation, bone awls and
needles of delicate workmanship, the
family grinding stone for gran, its
well worn surface indicating long use,
shell and obsidian ornaments and im-
plements of wood, the uses of which
were undiscoverable, were among the
trophies of the exploration,
Search made for water course or
ters of a mile in length and consisted of
a single row of houses, the common rear
wall being the lining rock, while the
sides and fronts were made of large
sauared stones, laid in clay. A narrow
street or pathway extended along the
estire font, Other and similar villages
could be seen along the canon for a dis-
tance of five miles. Among the relics
found here was a wooden spindle whirl
similar to those in use by the Pueblos
in the apparent manner of its manufac.
ture,
tools of any description was discovered.
The surface of the wood of which the
whirl was formed had apparently been
charred and then ground down to the
required size and shape by rubbing it
upon sandstone. A shaft of reed simi.
lar to bamboo, a species eulively un-
known in that region at this time, still
remained in the whirl. It had been
piece of fine twine,
twine being examined
microscop, discloged the
under the
fact
hadr.
perfect grains of corn, walnuts, bones
of the elk, antelope and wolf, portions
| of wearing apparel of a fabric resem-
bling the mummy cloth of Egypt, and
other articles were found in
dance buried in the piles
which partially filled these deserted
homes,
There were no weapons of war or
works of defence, no temples or idols
and no hieroglyphics or pictures,
ro. A” ———
European styles in SMationery,
Engraved cards are the rule.
which are of a generons size, and cut
nearly square, Cards for married la
pane on her mother’s card until she 18
twenty years of age, at which time she
can use a visiting card of her own,
wife are necessarily large. This fashion
calls and during the first year of mar-
riage; at all other time the husband and
| wife use separate visiting cards. Cards
for gentiemen are narrow and rather
{ short; the script is round, and has a
| much heavier look than the hair line
| letters on ladies cards,
All kinds of
on clear white paper, except silver and
golden wedding cards. The former
has the script in silver, and blue tinted
cards; the latter has the cards of a
pinkish white with golden letters,
little variely.
out by the parents of the bride; the
note sheet with lettering is in shaded
script. Square cards are used when
the couple issue the invitations. If
preferred, a separate card, with the
lady’s name on can be used,
corner, and on the right lower corner
are stated the reception days,
Afternoon reception cards, or note
sheets, are also handsomely engraved
{in script. When cards are used they
and address, The reception days are
| written in the left hand corner, and
{ either above or below -this the hour is
noted, for example: “Tea at 5 o'clock.”
! seript, neatly engraved; the guest's
| name is written by the hostess, a pretty
tone to the invitation,
— A ese
Changing a Gold Pleen.
“] recollect another instance,” and
the conductor's face lost its look of in-
dignstion and a smile crept over it, “in
which I completely cured a fat, fussy
vid woman of her efforts to beat her
way, She would invariably tender me
either a twenty-dollar gold piece or a
bill for the same amount, We don't
generally carry enough change for such
denominations, and it so bap-
pened that I was caught that way half
a dozen times, and I guess she began
to think she had a soft summer snap,
and became a regular patron of my car,
One day I fixed mysell. I hierally
loaded myself down for the occasion,
and langhed about it to myselt so often
my driver wanted to know if I
thought [ had mashed the pretty gurl
who sat in the corner ona
trip. Well, at the corner stood
my small mountain of waiting my
coming, 1 stopped the car with cheer-
ful alacrity, sud assisted the woman on
board with such a beaming countenance
that I really feared that 1 magt give
myself sway. After she had fairly set-
ed herself I started
up
Hi
;
:
5
EE
i
Love Among the Arabs,
~The girls have little to do with select-
ing their husbands, The men nearly al-
ways fix that up among themselves, A
bold warrior sees a girl whom he Jovesin
| another tribe, Herides up at night, finds
out where she is sleeping, dashes up to
her tent, snatches her up in his arms,
| puts her before lnm on the horse and
| sweeps away like the wind, If he hap-
| pens to be eaught he is If be is
{ not, the tribe from whi ‘hh he as stolen
i the girl pays him a visit in a few days,
| The dervish, a priest of {he tnbe, joins
#110L%,
{the hands of the youug man and the
girl, and both tribes join in the merri-
ment, All the bravest oca steal their
wives, but there ars some who do not.
Their method is a little different. Of a
calm, momlight pight-——and a G11
ght in the tropics is fa
1an here —yon may see an Aral
¢iore the tent of his inamorata
a stringed instrament sunetiin
| our banjo and singing a sonz ol 118 03
This is his courtshi
They ae the most musical people intl
| world, They talk in poetry, and
| teweporization is us easy with them as it
| was with the Scaldsof old. The court.
ip only lasts a week or two. If the
1 is obstinate he goes elsewhere and
| seeks to win anotier girl by i songs
{and music. Sometimes the fathers
i make up the mateh, but always the girl
{18 the obedient slave. Her religion, her
| people, her national instincts, the tra-
| ditions of her ancestors, all teach her to
{be the slave of her husband. The
| power of life and death is in his hands,
{ and she bows before lis opinions with
the most implicit obedience. It is only
Ho
composition,
| his glib talk of woman's highest duties
{ and grander sphere, with his winning
| manner, with his marked respect, so
attering to a woman's soul, that she
leaves her husband, forsakes the teach.
| ings of her childhood, gives up home
pose in his arms. They are as fine
riders as the men, and as fearless, They
ride straddle and can go almost any dis-
They are fine
know wial personal
The women of these people are mod-
Indeed, it is the
world to hear of
The women mature
at 11 and 12, and are old at 35 When
| voung they are very beautiful. They
have soft, dark skin, black, flowing hair
soft, languishing. eves. They are
| passionate in their loves, but after mar-
riage all their affection is centered in
| their husbands. If a woman is found
to be untrue to her husband she is in-
| stantly killed, together wilh her lover,
| But this seldom happens,
civilized life.
n the
men of
i —
Home Amusernonis.
In Magic Music one of the players is
sent out ot the room and a handker-
chief, a pair of gloves, a brooch or
other small article, is hidden in some
| cunning nook. The signal is then
| given for the banished one to return,
and a. lady or gentleman acquainted
with music takes up a position at the
| piano. It is for the musician to indi.
' cate, by the strains of the piano, when
| the seeker is approaching the hidden
object. As he recedes from il the
| music falls to a low tone, and a moarn-
| ful cadence; as he approaches it, hg
! notes swell out loud and clear, and
burst into triumphal strains as he lays
| his hand on the prize, If properly
| managed the magic music may be made
to have almost magnetic power in
| drawing the secker toward the proper
| spot.
An improved way of playing the game
| is to set the seeker some task to per-
| form instead of finding the handker-
chief. Say, for itstance, he is to take a
book from the bookcase and present it
to a lady. Ashe walks around the room
the music increases in sound as he ap-
proaches the bookcase but fails as he
sses it, This tells him what locality
iis task is. He takes a book and the
music sounds loudly and joyously. He
begins to read. No; the music falls at
once; he is faltering in his task. He
carries the book around the room. As
he approaches the lady the notes burst
forth loudly again, concluding with a
triumphal flourish as Le presents the
volume to her with a gallant bow. In
case of failure a forfeit is exacted; and
each player must have a task set him or
her in turn.
a
Gay Head Indians.
A subscription has been started in Boston
in sad of the half breed indians at Uay
lives of twenty-two men from the
Those who reached the
ith
a5eiie
Ei
lh
I
i
is
:
:
‘
it
of
1.1
:
:
§
i
E
g
Eg
il
;
i
i
!
0
e
:
:
Hi
{
.
2
i