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"