WHY LITTLE BOY? Why hittle boy, why do you laugh? As if a bubbling spring €eaping in joy along the path Within yon fain would sing! Your lips the aughing water sipt Aud parted in a smile; The rippled sunlight upward slipt An. lit your eyes the while. Too swiftly sped the glowing ray; In pain each dainty sphere Llosed light its lids upon the day, And "neath them stole a tear. Aud this is why you laugh and cry; Your spring we all have tried, — A smile and tear, a kiss and sigh How little else beside ! EEL LCR JEALOUS. «ty hy what is that?’ asked Caleb May as a2 man rattled up to the door of something heavy on the porch. ‘Going to have company, Jennie?” Jennie Hutter shook her head. “No. said she; ‘father has taken it into his head to have boarders, that's all. ‘Some old gentleman who is going to write a book and wants quiet, I believe, What a bother.” Caleb laughed. ‘‘Hie’ll not you much,” he said. *‘You ar interested in the crockery, nor 4 sweep or make beds, The } branch Ly the window will be troubled as much by his coming as you.” Jenuie pot *How idle you fancy me.” she said, *‘I sew perpetually,and I made a custard vesterday. won't let me do housework, and Nancy always says—'Go away don’t bother me, child, when I tr help. 1 ee? “There.”? said Caleb, “don’t make excuses, I'd as soon expect a hum- ming-bird turn kitchen-drudge as you; and you are to belong to me some day, and [ shall lay yon up in cotton as you lay your pins and earrings and like to see your little hands snow-white as they are now, if you are a farmer’s wife." Jennie I ho } oe Os botl 0 Tose on 1 ii y 4 i Hutu, to shed. othed to Caleb ked down and blu for wh 1d been betx two years, but she had not quite gro used to talking of it “Evervone tri t n sh said, “You will work, Caleb; why not is Caleb his knee as 1d. **J nig d. i han the made to x dered six-{i giant, and and you look as if a you—a fairy, j those we used covered picture-l “When lf tice of rune observation. “As a f harder than the me “I've seen acres, and a fort put away in th bank. whose wives did all the cooking and ironing for a dozen hands besid their own children, with babies crying afte em and keeping all nigl and n ni half the i and if was done men w wd g servants he sai fittle Neo JUSsy Lo n { ia general {eIIOWS ry All women } ti them 1 wv} ¥ LUE mothers thei Knee and her cheek was kKnitti me table a utterly i holding it “This is voice again. And Jenn e, bec was her duty to speak, replied— sir: walk mn and 1'11 call my father,” Thereupon the gentleman entered. “Don’t disturb your father if busy,” he said. “My name is Jordan. I-—I believe my trunk arrived an hour ago.” “Yes sir.” And Caleb lifted his eyes to see the “old gentleman who wanted to be quiet.” He saw a man of forty, very bald, but by no means elderly or piain-look- ing. A very handsome man mn fact, with an air distingue, which Caleb, plain and homely as he was, understood at a glance, and eyes brown, long-lashed, and bright, which followed Jennie's retreating figure admiringly. Yoiu iOWI. Hutter’s?’’ asked the ming aware ti i he is book,” thought Caleb. ‘Well, he's welcome, and if he'll put her in as good and handsome as she is, I'll buy two copies.” Then Caleb looked at his big silver watch, remembered that the man whom he was to see about the two calves which were to be sold would be waiting, and walked away homeward, And why, thinking it over, he should be sorry that the new boarder was a handsome middle-aged man instead of the old book-worm he had expected, Caleb could not tell, *“*What 1s that man to me?’ he sald again and again, with the handsomest ander the sun, I'm certain,” The evening when, after the old-fash- loned country custom, the family ab- {eft the courting couple alone, gther days Caleb might drop in, but he vas not expected or prepared for. On Sunday, therefore, Caleb went over to «fhe Hutters’, Tea was over and Jen- nie was in the parlor, so were the old folks, so was Mr, Jordan. Mr. Jordan was very sociable, and «salked a great deal, | Eight o'clock came and he did not | stir, still he sat and talked. { The old folks looked at each other, | “D'm afeard we are keepin’ Mr. Jor- dan up,” said the old lady. { “Don’t stand on ceremony, Mr. Jor- | dan,” said the old gentleman. “Not at all,” said Mr, Jordan. “On { these lovely moonlight nights late hours suit me best.” And he leaned back in his chair, as though he never intended to retire at all. The conversation flagged, All the better for Mr. Jordan, He told them | about his travels, and he liked good listeners. Ten struck. The old folks arose, | “If you will excuse us,” they said, politely, “we'll retire.” Mr. Jordan excused them, and re- meined talking still. The fact was that in society to which he was accustomed { no young lady would have remained up alene to entertain a gentleman and it remained, he was de trop. ined the gentleman was trying to set him out and grew indignant, He folded his arms and scowled. Mr, Jordan heped smoke was not disagreeable to Miss Hutter, and lit a . in a rage, hearing the took his hat and nd Jennie ran upstairs for Calel h not kis ed her at ng. Caleb himself was jealous and id as tin wore on, nothing to change 1 mind. The ¢ was repeated evening after il Jennie been. 1 eive, Lo 12 i8 Indead Caleb bed possessed of the y liked Mr, Jordan A ever liked hin ‘“The impertine rascal, he must he’ aged to me,’ said m what 1 think of dingly he did his best 1, and to show Ali “ ' Welcome raan istene then started bya WO ’ two turtl “11 ki . Il him.» ill him, by Heaven yz it over his she towards Hutter's farmhouse, It was a very dark night, mo and cloudy. Far away he could see tl gleam of candlelight from the small parlor, and two dark figures with their backs to the window, in a moment. Mr. Jordan and Jennie Hutter, “Together, together!" he;whis- pered between his teeth, and strode on, crushing the green grass beneath his feet, Atilast only the branches of a tall lilac in- tervened between himself and the pair. He stood behind it, and looked at his gun again, He listened, “1 have something to say to you, Jennie,” said Mr, Jordan’s voice, Caleb took aim, deadly aim, at the broad back of the speaker, and stood still again. I'll hear what it is and then Kill him, *’ he muttered. **Yes, I'll hear it all. Then he shall drop at Ler feet just as she has given her talse heart into his keeping, dead, and then I will end my ight 1}eas | and the man she loves shall die togeth- er.” His finger was on the trigger, waiting for the words whose import he well knew, “You must know I love you,” said Mr. Jordan, “You must be used to love and admiration. ‘‘But perhaps yon cannot guess how much. “It is better than my life. Jennie I adore you.” Caleb drew one step nearer, his teeth set, his eyes sparkling, Jennie sald noth- ing. Sie. Jordan went on--*'Will, you be | my wife, Jennie? I am older than you. | but I will be very kind to you, “Could you like me enough for that, my dear? “You will never repent it, I am rich, and my wealth would be lavished upon you,” The muzzle of the gun rested on the window-sill, now, and Caled May’s breath almost brushed the thin, dark curls of Jennie's wooer, “How will she say Caleb, In a moment more Jennie spoke. ‘‘I am =o sorry,’ she said. think-—it never entered my mind that you liked me so, Your ways are 80 it?» s0 much richer and older,” “But does that make any difference?”’ asked Mr, Jordan. *I If it was anyone else, I should say the same. I cannot say yes, Mr. Jordan.” Caleb heard the words and his gun dropped lower, “Why not? the wooer. “11 teil you thé simple truth, Jennie, “I am engaged, Mr, Jordan I have been engaged two years to Caleb May.” “But youdon’t love the sulky brute,’ sried Mr. Jordan; ‘that can’t be, Jen- 1 ( Ts n 141 Am I too old?” asked 1 © “I Jove him better than anyone in the world,” said Jennie; ‘‘and if the handsomest best man on earth were to speak as you have spoken to-night, and if he were poorer u nan a begy 1 and were REAr, an Wel richest, nd the line, looks I like { manly him “You must, indeed, if you feel thus,’ said Mr. Jordan. And without another word, he walked out of Caleb dropped his loaded gun Oo grass and walked in. “Where have you been, Caleb?” said: ‘and what have you been ( And he answ i [ ‘ve before the other.” the room. the ‘red **Jennie, A8XK #1 “Why, we ot } . hon gether, when and were thos somenow We when his friend were goin Pid | gether, one gi f poker, but hadn't quit He then pulled out watch and said he thought he would and put it up f 5. He hated these if | s for $15, | d i 1o- 0 AL Oi i -n pawnbrokers, and asked me would not lend him £15 on it unt | morrow. [I teldhim the watch was not | worth more than $5. He laughed at | this and said I evidently knew nothing { about watehes, I took it and examined | it, works and all, It was a watch that | could be bought for £7 or $8, and I wid | him 80. He offered to bet $15 he could get $26 on it from any pawnbroker, 1 | took him up, and we put the $30 In my friend’s hands. We then went into this shop two below here, and | tossed the wateh on the counter, he The doors he wanted on it, | “Twenty-five dollars,” he sald in an | off-handed way. The pawnbroker pitch- | ed it down and shook his head. | “But just look at those works,” said he in the same tone, | The pawnbroker picked it up, took it to the light, and examined the works with a glass, Then he came backiand said he would let him have $20 on it, “No, sir, I want $25,” said the other, *‘or nothing." “Well, I will let you have it, but I could not lend a cent mors.”’ He thereupon made out a ticket, passed him $25, and then he claimed the bet. Of course it was given to him, and we came in here to take a drink.” The barkeeper smiled, the reporter stepped to the front and told what he | had heard in the garden, and the two | men, merely saying “thanks,” left the | saloon and hurried off in the direction the two sharpers had taken. i Buried Alive. Of all the horrible “and appalling | one can imagine none more ghastly than | that of being buried alive, The case of { was the means of saving her from a dreadful fate, has been often told. The vault at midnight- | the finger—the ghastly terror of the her coffin and blood began to flow | the familiar knock coming to the house door in the dead of night, heard by tress’ ghost was there buried their faces ed husband lying sleepless in his grief, heard it too, and started at the sound. “If my thought, “I should say that was he: knock,’ and when more faintly, it again | smote his ear, rising at last and going resuscitated woman. All this tened to with an interest intensi the fact of its true, ! A curious coineidence respecting this event 13 that an exactly similar sto i s» annals of the fami) Mount 1 ard I was lis. fied by being Ol Edgecombe, The dgecombe, being at s» young and childless, died, She was buried with a i ] finger, and the tors of the IoUSness, th to a HEL i Many a wer. h ww W Yi ETE Os ’ free : iii 6 Criex 3 v £21 t Henry stood amaz- «1: his eyes which he was turning away from the unbecoming spectacle, were riveted on the corpse. The jovial doctor sobered in a mu nt, staggered back. “Can a dead man drink?’ he cried. “Give him more-—more!’’ ex- claimed Sir Henry, recovering his pre- sence of mind and seizing the bottle. A tinge, so slight that only a medical eye could have detected it, began faint. ly to suffuse the white face, tor tore away the shroud and placed his hand upon the heart, Meanwhile the hearse stood at the uneral guests were assembl- Ind ing outside, ~gorvants hurrying to and fro, fetch. ing hot bricks, stimulants, restoratives, in obedience to the doctor's commands, the latter applying every means skill | could devise to keep the Mickering spark | of life from dyiog out; and the startled family, half paralyzed by the sudden revulsion, standing around, gathered in | anxious, silent groups, Breathlessly | they watched for tidings. For a long | time the result seemed doubtful | doubtful whether the hearse before the lying scattersd about and trampled | of death, hastily discarded in the frst | wild moment of hope--might not yet be { But nol | ness, were slowly returning. Colone! Hw was given back to his | family and home, (ling again the place | that it was thhught would know him no more. And not until five and twenty years had passed away after that wewm- tribute, { A young officer returned from China | related apropos of burying alive the home,”” he sad, **we had in the transport, beside our own ({roops, a large draft of ¥Freuch soldiers, soon broke out among the closely pack- | ed men, and deaths were of dally occur- rence, The French dealt summarily with their dead. As soon 4s a poor | fellow had breathed his last, he was his heel, and his body thrust through a porthole into the sea. John Bull's pre- judice rebelled against such rapid pro- { ceedings, When we lost any of our | comrades, they were allowed to lie for { twelve hours covered with the Union- jack, and the burial service was read over them before they were committed to the deep, One day a French sergeant, tilence, was brought up on deck in sheet in which he had died, to be thrown overboard. The twenty pound had been fastened to feet and the t removed, in § him through the port-hole, he was caught | protruding hook shot his ihe when, yushing iY nn the a nai in 1 i more irther through, + flesh was torn by d began the bystanders was al- yreover, they saw about the © “The man’s §1 § ‘ VO HOW. and, m sueht yught wrgeanl was one board : landed ie sort the transi rs Rochefort at Home and at Work. | and acknowledged. i }2ia fal y . #4 wl his fall mone » Lantern tl A scsi It's My Wife. hel night The ot nigh a borin named O'Harris was drinking beer and playing cards in a Green River aven saloon, Detroit, somebody asked him what sort of a wife he had. “The humblest, docilest little woman in all the world,”’ he replied, “Doesn't she ever say anything about your spending your evenings away from home?" ‘Never a word “And has she no objection to your spending half your wages in beer and | cards?” “If she has she doesn’t state "em’’. “But won't turn you some You Enow that even a worm will LE Ig ne when LF the on { day? turn.” “Faith and she will that. 1've been | going on in this way for the last four. teen years, and for the last two I've been looking for a climax. A wife suffers for about so long and then she turns on you," Not, mora than five minutes had pass- ed, and the men were busy with their cards, when a woman openea the door and slipped in. She stood for a moment | to get the range, and then made a bee- { line for the laborer. Off went his hat, the hair flew in showers, and over went the table with its glasses and cards. Five or six badly frightened men rush- | kelped along by a push from a chair, and as the laborer took the middle of | the street and gathered himself togeth. | er for some tall ruuuing be cried out | with a lump in his throat: “It's my wife, and she’s turned at last, I'd like to sev the worm which would upset seven men and a saloon in | he clegant manner just witnessed in side,’ { an A AI Sb | Scandal will rab out like dirt when | it is dry. Amateur Doctors. | Amateur doctoring is exceedingly | common, Great as is the number of ailments which every year are profes- sionally treated at the mstitutions for which special appeals are to be made all over London soon, it may be doubted whether the cases in which amateurs every year try their hand at selting | right the rickety human machine are | pot vastly moore numerous, Such efforts | are especially common in the lower middle-class, The wealthier and more intelligent are of course chary of eve- rything but the best professional advice in matters of health, and the poor are | wonderfully ready to run to the hospl- { tal and dispensary. 1t is not that they are averse to amateur treatment-—far from it. The well-known story of the cabman who nearly iimself by | swallowing some sort of draught { which bad been left hicle, and which } him as | much «« meant 1 {l- readiness ignorant ¥ £6 anyll Lie LON ight do pl Ad 14 arty it was { for." 0 ANS An exaggerates justration i ludicrous $a the ie nia Ley ars ht- ———— han Hreathing. 1iISeAsSe 18 pure aur Vr SYRLe- vatio a full and constant supply for the lungs. All the plans fx matizing exercise ne it with pleasure should be encouraged. Horse. back riding, walking, bicycling, foot- racing and athletic sports are hardly less valuable for the increased quantity of air that they compel us to consume than from the exhilarating and healthful | effects produced in our minds, In order to be of real value exercise regular and, if possible, in the open air, and sufficient each day for the wants of the system, but never excessive, Ex- tremes are always dangerous, Gymna- ginms have caused the breaking down of hundreds of young men, Fearing to go out in inclement weather isa vain fear. | There may be a day occasionally during | the winter when it might be prudent to remain indoors, but with proper at- tention immediately afterward no well | person while exercising is likely to be the worse for a thorough drenching or wet feet. Air is the best of all blood purifiers, and the more thoroughly the lungs do | their work, the purer the blood and the jess liability will there be to disease, | believe that the chief cause of pneu. monia is breathing impure air and pext | to this over-eating. Both tend to be foul the blood. The victims of this disease are principally among *‘good | livers,’ who do not take sufficient ex. ercise in the open air. The disease sel- | dom attacks those whose occupations require them to spend much of their time out of doors. The | main object of exercise then, is to com. | pel the breathing of as much air as i» | required for the elimination of effete | matters from the blood, and the reward | almost certain immunity from all ¢ Of by combu should be 1 i forms of disease,
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers