IRISH LULLARY, E'd rock my own sweet childie to rest in a cradle of gold on a bough of the willow, To the sho-heen sho of the wind of the west and the sho hoo lo ofthe soft sea billow, Sleep, baby, dear, Sleep without fear, Mother is here beside your pillow. silver boat on the beautiful river, Where a sho-heen whisper the white cas. cades, and a sho hoo loo the green flags shiver. Sleep, baby, dear, Sleep without fear, Mother is here with you forever. Sho hoo ls! to the rise and fall of mother's bosom ‘tis sleep has bound you, And O, my child, what cosier nest for rosier rest could love have found you? Sleep, baby, dear, sleep without fear, Mother's two arms are clasped around you. ERR CR THE YELLOW ROSES. years ago, 1 One evening about two and neighbor, Madame de Lorgeri, Aware her ctreme fondness for flowers, I took with me a bunch of yellow roses, her especial favorites, On this evening, as an ‘many another, I found her with an gld gentleman, who had about a year before coma into that neighborhood to ake possession of an adjoining property eft him by a distant relative on condi- tion he would change his name to that of Descondrai I was quite jealous of my dear old friend of between him and my dear old friend. On the evening in question they ie ¥ entered softly so as not to disturb them, and waited until the game was over to present my roses. Madame de Lorgeri’s face was brightened with genuine delight, but to my astonish- ment, Monsieur Descondrais’ most strangely abstracted and thought- ful, “Would vou believe it my friend,’ he said, at length, *:th evoked, as if by enchantment a whole epoch of my vouth. Fora few moments I was again twenty years of age and in love with a woman, who, if hving, must now be fully sixty years old. I will tell von the whole story, one that influenc whole after life—even now, n old age has left me barely energy enough remembrance of my youthful love fills me with emotion.” forty vears college, my ng me, se in a certain own of Lea it ago just after father, withou to obtain ¢ regiment quartere X—, for which orders to depart at the i tle place I received once. This was more than one reason; love for t army, thou tion was no gre: of my iife the mere si; form, or the sound sufliced to fire my ambitio ing a Casar or an Achilles. of all, I was in love, and dared not tell my father, whose answer I kuew, would have been an order hastening my de. parture, an —and what i ras as old as I am now, retaining all the vigor and f youth. He idant distressing news for I had no special that objec i OQ <t nnela UHCIE was the conf of follies, loves, debts and aspix went to him: “TTnel LT 3 A on I am most unha ov 4 wirinrrd ir 3ave di i Twenty iouis y would lose your “If I lose, 1] help to cor “No; mo my wretche cepted a lieutenantey Regiment.” “*A misfortune in 15 most are gentlemen,’ “But uncle, I do soldier.” ‘Not be a soldier! chance?” “I do not yet know, uncle neverthe- fess, I know you are the only man might dare doubt my courage.” “Well, Cid, my boy, what is objection to the army?” “I wish to marry.” “tN SAN *N¢ ie nuniform Lie uniform becoming, 18 Are you a coward by ¥ v our wm 43 onsense. Sense Or uo nonsense, 1 am in love.” **And wish I she?’ “Oh, uncle! an angel!’ hat a misfortune! 1 myself, Who is always are angels, What I ask is as to what juame yo they call her?” *Naomi."’ “Humph? Naomi. may be enough for you: but I would like to know to what family this angel belongs.” *‘She is a Miss Amelot?” A tall, graceful brunette, with dark eyes, soft as velvet, shoice.’’ “And if you but know her'’- ‘I do not know." of me. At her house every evening, and yet not know if she loves youl” “*She does not even know of my love.’ “Pahaw! little you know about it. 8he knew you loved her at least fifteen mimutes before you knew it yourself,” “What I do know at all events, is that I will die if she be not mine!” “Oh, nol Softly my boy. sures. Your father is far richer than prs, and would never consent to the maten.” will do” — we “Nonsense! Do nothing silly. g silly “Why not?” “Because I do not wish it, and with gut me this marriage can never take ” “Oh, dear uncle, I beg" “If the girl loves you, and is willing to wait three years" “Three years!” “Peace, or I shall say four. willing, then, to wait three years, you will join your regiment —e'" “Oh uncle?” “But not thisone. I will have you Sathannged into one quartered th- af oles and you may come home “Well if it must be— But how shall I know if she loves me?" “Why ask her of course, “Oh, I should never dare.” | “Well, then, obey your father, and | pack off at once.” | term of probation is over,” 1" | A hundred times have 1 tried to declare { my passion; I have even composed | but at the moment of speaking my courage wanes, and each word chokes { me. Her expression is so sweet, but | yet so grave. The man worthy of her { is not born! Writing was useless, When | my effusions were penned and ready to | be sent their utter foolishness struck | was at | tear my notes into small pieces, ‘Nevertheless you must | your mind to speak at once. Your { father has not told you all: he sends | you to Clermont because his friend the Colonel’s daughter 18 des to | your bride, It would indeed be a good match protestations—all this | nothing if you are really in love with Naomi, Loves folly—but it is a Kind { of folly I should regret never having been guilty of. Old people may call it no nonsense, but perchance the non- | sense is theirs, If the girl loves you, you sacrifice all { pid maybe, right. tain if loves { 18 the hi I. and grow pale! You long to have your rival at sword’s point, as we used to | say in my young days. Well, courage; face your beautiful Naomi. If you are richer than she her intended hus- band is richer then you, besides having a title and being quite ready for the ceremony; her trousseau 1s even being made. You are not prepared; go | her, declare your love—she knows but one is expected make the claration. If she loves you—she must for you are hand if she is willing to walt, 1 tined a QO must " her--‘tis siu- We must first you, 1 now ey INALTY hat makes you shudder ] 1 1% ch iil sCer th seek to to er. of 80 in a letter which I may Keep; will prevent this other affair, get { exchange, and in three years marry jou { to Naom in spite of your spite of the devil himself!” “Uncle, I have an idea.’ “Well?” “1 will write to her. “Very well.” After leaving about writing that not was no difficult matter, for 1 | it a hundred before; tl was how to give ! there wa time soon made up purchased a bunc slipped my declaration flowers. [I still recall the words of my Das ) note, declaring me a g hree years . isked her, as a sign, that evening. of my do y tines yb 5 DO love return, ar If she con LO wear e mn would our future plans, **Ah! you hid ths 7 breathlessly inter 0868 OU quet rupted Mad- ame Lorgeri. “Yes, madame.’ “And then?" “Well, Naom leavening. I was misery sought to i good uncle took me t there two {1 power WOT flow des Tat on rom my heart. hter, i | years later, left me achildless widow my dear uncle has been long dead, a I am now alon® in the worla. Wou | you helieve it, my friends? 1 often this day thin Naomi, and she still to me, yw quite lady, the Naomi of my story love—a tall, graceful girl, with auburn hair, and so my uncle used to say, blacl velvet eyes, “You know not “No, madame." “Then your n raies?’”’ “No: name of my uncle's estate: mine is d’'Altheim.’ “] knew it!” “Why? ~how?"’ “1 will tell you at became omi-—she loved you.” “But the note—the n “She never found your note. Your sudden departure cost her many bitter | tears, and then she married Monsieur | de Lorgeri.”’ “M. de Lorgeril’ “Whose widow I am." “Then you-you are lot?” “Yes; just as you are, or rather, as | you are not, the Edmond d’Altheim of | my youth.” “To think we should meet one day | a8 strangers?’’ 14 y } GRUE i] ) iE 3 is an old my first 3 3 ACK what became of her? wh Wil of Na- Fosesy : } ’ Naomi Ame- | trac.” “The roses’ “Are here. I always kept them.” ebony cabinet, near by, the wilhered bunch of yellow roses, “Unfasten them quick Monsieur Descoudrais, I" exclaimed She did so, | most dust, found the note, where it had | lain concealed for two and forty years. A] WI WOOT 5A «Hpare that Tree." In the Adirondacks the has done his work. lumberman Not a single white and the spruces have been thinned out until it is hard to find one of average natural size, and we have all the fuel we need for our campfires in the litter which the trimming of the trees has i left,’ Besides this business destruction, there is an abuse which 1t 18 as much in the interest of the lumber proprietor as of the state to stop, which is the pesling of the spruce trees for summer camps, The guides and hunters, when they go into camp, ordinarily construct their shelter from spruce bark, i i tigtruck nn New Lay.’ A young man in natty attire, and having the general air of a “shoestring”’ down Fifth avenue, Chicago. At the eorner of street he was stopped by an old lady. She was feeble and bent with age; her shoes were full of holes; her dress was denoted the pauper. ‘*‘Son,” she said, ‘which one of these houses does the want to see I am very me Mayor Harrison but when I went to be seen, and a poor, They told see him he was not It must be a long way there, Can’t you show me the way, son?” ‘“*Well, now, old girl,” said the young man, ‘‘you are on wrong steer for the County Agent, about s’teen west of you are traveling will get there about fifty minutes to 6.” and the young man elevated his cigar. “Please take me there, lady; “I don't know tha way, “Not this eve,’ said the vo “You are too! and he turned as The old lady lool be I can tind the h “hint He blocks here, gait Ng man, la-la for me.” t1erh f ACL OL « I hope, thirew away $ ON I Will She leaned the cigar, and th tals ¢ LaAKe here |; arm, cup of He had a sil thought AM LIN of them and smiles Lie hein and savagely 9; When they got « id lady sald “Where's pray.” the ch He silver dollar a He pat it oori« re, mother, catel give vy Play it el put his h there, on one lay, I caught outo of q I'll just old woman, and maybe she won so hard for awhile if I get home iat ¥ $ 3 3 HAO ear, tell this st or ge Vital Foroe, There seems to be an active and during energy in man that is not 1 en- pure or » It is not closely related to it. It is not firmness of muscle nor suppleness of limb, though Neither is it the will, though this may for a time within the mortal frame, It cause it is more observable in of nervous constitution. Whatever persons it strength, and by judicious management it may be made to keep the possessor in health and to extend his life far beyond the allotted terion of man’s usefulness, Young men reared in the country are large, muscular and healthy. But this differ- ence of appearance need lead no one to | —— 1 ice exerted by the will united | energy. Louis XI Is a. tance, Richelieu 18 a more iHustration principle. 7 abath, influer wi VOUS SLriking iu liter ury men of our own times prove conclu- sively the value of vital force as com- | pared with mere physical strength, | The first is like a Fabianarmy, fighting | a little and all the time retreating | adroitly; the last like a strong fortfica- tion, which having been surmounted by the enemy, all is lost, It follows, then, that the length of | human life depends, first, on the amount of this vital force, and, second, on the | care with which it 18 husbanded, It is | probable that it is oftener found in per- | sons of medium stature and of no great physical strength, though may co- exist with the amplest physical devel- Let any one run over in his all the old men he has ever known, How many of them were | six feet in height? How many of them it iu sele when 15¢ were young? A small prop esume to say. Why is six feet tall, or Ol Pass First vous forces are ni ae men se 1d muel Bei uci | because their phys it usually second, becau exhaust themselve perave | is Al AI Assis Roy's Father's Sword Rob Jol i Brooklyn, a sword i Robert Roy MacGregor’s father, Mr MacGregor Years He was away from home but his daughter-in- led a reporter into a dining hall ornamented with stag's heads and wea- pons of war and the chase, From one corner she dragged forth a straight-! bladed, double-edged, two-nanded clay- | more, with a strong iron basket hilt as | YY nne, belonged to od 3 ao Oi, is green fields and breathed the purest mountain alr, Rebellion broke out it ealled the young men of the country alike from farms, counters and counting-rooms, The city regiments and country regiments encamped side by side, enjoying at first the same degree of health, It often happened that the last died like sheep, because they were unable to endure the hardships and simple complaints inci. dental to camp life, while their neigh- bors from the city grew strong and lived to do duty afterward on a score of battlefields. History furnishes examples of the 3 The blade is four feet long and two and | a half inches in width. The reporter | tried to draw the blade from the scab- | bard, but it resisted all his efforts, “The scabbard ought to come off,” said the young lady. *‘I know it used to. and the blade was bright and in good order. There is said to be only one sword like this in the world now, and that is in the tower of London. That sword came into our family twen- ty years ago. Mr. Robert MacGregor, who is now dead, was then a dry-good | of Philadelphia, He heard | that a family of MacGons who bad | lately come over from Scotland, had in | father, and he went to investigate the | He became satisfied of the truth of all that was claimed for the weapon, and purchased it. Here is the certificate which accompanies the sword.” The following inscription was written on parchment: ‘‘This claymore was usad in the wars of the Covenant. MacGregor, of Argyle, father of Rob Roy.” ihe ————— The average ocoan steamer burns a hundred tons of nosl a day, and some twice as much. Window Dressers, No branch of the mercantile business | to such proportions in the | windows. jefore that time goods for display were thrown into the window recesses without any special regard for harmonious blending of , and it seemed to be the impression that the way to catch the public eye and call attention to the beauties of the was to make the drrangement of les displayed as incongruous possible, Suddenly an artist appeared in a well-known Boston house, and out time, at a colors good 4 of his love of art IE small salary, in decorating the windows with displays that fairly dazzled Bostonlan’s eyes. Beautiful scenes with wax figures for ranean inhab stuff to make Santa Claus’ j derella and other 16 and n a field requiring 1 iginality and a fertile spent the $213 § ile 11 in ct of the gloo representative, © Prince Ovel ine and various representatives ' howed peculiar ly seemed aul nt the g but the HAVE fron ae 3 Had ’ I ¢ lay-out i hanged onee that I am kept busy salary. Desides, working 3 sunsaine De of Varety an alr make it A sate somewhat wre the average salaries paid?’’ £30 to $406 a week, x [1 ¥y irom 3 i receive ob 4h vik 4d p the past necompetent of mvyinoed capal 1s IS determina “Do you ign before working i “I don't, but 1 know It is not the best plan to do it, though, tends to limit one's powers. | 1 wi as it suggest another so that the same style used twice. Itls best to you know its fresh, exhibit at the expcsition. How would put it on paper previously?" —- Face Powder. A young married man discovered a freshly opened box of face powder on his wife's toilet table, ‘“To this com- plexion have we come at last,’ he said, and flung it out of the open window, It alighted safely on the head of a gentleman who was going to church in his Sunday best, and enveloped him from head to foot like a spring storm, “Come down and be murdered,’’ he yelled up to the man in the window, shaking his fist and describing a war dance, “Come up and I'M fight you,*’ shriek- ed the powder magazine above, The wife appeared as a pacificator; armed with a whisk-broom she descen- ded to the sidewalk, and her husband had the satisfaction of seeing her care. fully dust off the strange man, while she made soothing apologies in invisible nes, And the husband has concluded not to interfere with his wife's toilet reia- tions in the future. ——— Tue man who knows you well may forget all about you when you are ill. i 1 i 1 4 : { On the Box. It was the poverty and not the will 1i8 Heense to enable me to spend a doz- n the box, and see what was like from the point of view of he 10,000 cabbles who ply their calling n the huge metropolis, It isa nervous yourself at the ack of a handsom cab for the first Lime, even if you profess to be some. hing of a whip. The roof shines be. ife $ to the horse, of which Can #66 than the head and a few inclies its distance 18 quite startling. 8 cannot be seen, estimating the widt drive through is very cone slippery J that ng rig if often you 5 30 the difli- § is h of spaces ing of vel haracter- Reeves t cluster of flowers ring in my buttons and bewilderment. “If you would only give you the shilliag.’’ she stam- mered, ‘we would ask you to come and give us a ride some other day.’ I said that I could not, and hurried off, These ladies were neither stiff nor patronizing in their manner to me. 1 am posed believe now that a touch pature really make the whole world kin, including even the unromantic cabbies, With my \ai OV UD 13 ais of 1 may ng Noots On. he radroad passenger who leaves from anv depot in Detroit must shHosy his ticket at the gate. The idea is #0 keep dead-heads off the trains and pre- vent people from making mistakes, but it’'sa poor day when a dozen Kickers don’t show up. Recently a man with a very, very iron-jaw and lois of width between the eyes reached one of the gates with a parcel under either arm. “Ticket, sir.” “In my pocket,” “Show your ticket!” “Can't you take my word that I've “Please show your ticket.” “Am I liar?” demanded the passen- ger, “Ticket, sir; show your ticket.” “111 be hanged if 1 do.” “All right; please stand back.” “look a-here,’ said the man with the metal In his jaw, “I'll stay here & years before I'l show my ticket at that gate.” A dozen people laughed at him, but he let the train go out and walked greay paw and said: “Pardner, put it thar! Both of us dead-broke. Both of jus want to get out o' here. Both of us got left at the gate, Pardner, I'll toss up to see whether you pawn your red whiskers or I spout my old hat for two schooners of beer!" The wide-eyed man laid down his bundles and kicked the other with such | force that he fell flat. When he had the gate, exhibited his ticket, and passed through with the remark: “There it 1s—there itis! but I'll beat the conductor or die with my boots oni"
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers