om A MOTRERS THOUGHT. Mother, with your children straying Into danger everywhere How, amid your household dutles, Can you keep so free of care? “0!” she said, with pleasant smiling, “There are angels everywhere!’ Angels guard the little children; All their wilful fancies rule; Watch them in the summer playing By the deep and reedy pool; Keep their little feet from staying Going to and from the school. On the winter's frozen river, In the summer's tever heat In the woods or on the mountain, In the danger-haunted street — What could mothers do if angels Did not guard the little feet? And we are but larger children, Needing also angel care, They givewourage wheu we're weary, Hope and heip when iu despair, Whisper many a word of cantion, Keep our feet from many a snare. In and out across our thresholds, They go with us every day; Oh, how ¢ften have they turned us, When we should have gone astray, Oh, how often death had met us, 1f they had not barred the way. Ard we dimly feel their presence, Feel their love, and strength, and care; And amid a thousand dangers. In life's battle take our share Fearless; knowing, like the mother, “There are angels everywhere. AN ACY OF JUSTICE. “Ah, this is the country! How quiet it seems after the bustle of the city, and how deliciously fragrant the air is! But st’s warm, though. I wonder if I'm near my destination.” Pausing, the soliloquizer transfers fis satchel from his right hand to his deft, while with his handkerchief he wipes his brow, Just then, chaneing to glance over the charming picture. Seated upoa the daisied grass be- neath the shade of an old tree, is a $ with roses, A great cluster nestles at the throat of her cambric dress, while another fastens her belt. The delicate pink harmonizes with the tints of her own rfect complexion, while wound about er small head are a wreath of soit braids, whose purely golden bue would make 8 society girl sick with envy. After gazing until he is satisfied, the stranger coughs gently but audibly. As the girl looks up and sees that she is observed she springs to her feet. “I beg your pardon for alarming you,” the young man hastens to say. “Can you direct me to Brierwood Farm? 1 was told that it was a couple of miles from the station, and as I have beea walking for some time I thought that I must be near it.” self-possession, answers him with the welcome announcement: “You thought rightly, str Brierwood Farm. ’ With a light spring the young man clears the fence and comes to her side, “T must confess that I am very glad. it is the essence of coolness and shadow here, but out upon the open road the sun is scorchingly hot, Is Mr. Arnold at home?” “No, sir, but my aunt is.” As they walked together to the house, under the welcome shade of the green trees the stranger says, smiling: “If Mrs. Arucld is your aunt, why, This is is Rupert Arnold, and my father is re- lated to Mr. Arnold.” *I am Rose May, the mece of Mr. Arnold's wife.” the girl replies as frankly. “Appropriately pamed,” the young man says pleasantly, with a significant glance at the flowers that adorn so lavishly his com panion’s simple toilette. “I hope you will allow me the friendly privileges of a cousin, even if we cannot claim the relationship through ties of blood.” “Have you eyer beeu to the farm be- fore?” Bose asks, “Yes, once, when I was a little chap of five years. Bat that's a long while ago.” “lt musk murely, By this time they are at the farm- house door, which stands hospitably open, and, ushering their vismtor into the sitting-room, Hose hastens to ap- prise ber aunt of the arrival, “A perfent little jewel! How she will shiné int the golden setting that awaits her, and how glad I am that I fell in with mother's views!” Rupert Arnold thinks as he answers her smile aud lia- tens until the last echo of her light step dies away. “] am on my summer vacation, and remembering that my father and cousins are out this way, I thought I would look them up. Heo was speaking of your husband the other day, and la- menting that his busy life prevented him from keeping track of his reistives,’ Rupert explains, later, The cordiality of his recoption leaves him nothing to desire, and when Far mer Arnold urges him to spend the remaining weeks of his vacation at Brierwood Farm he willingly assents, Of "eourse, in that time his scquaint- ance with Rose makes rapid progress, and Rupert soon flatters himself that he lias scunded the height sed depth of her simple mind, be,” Rose answered de- admiration of herself, and who has so eagerly avalled himself of the privilege tacitly permirted him of calling her by the title of cousin, She by no means dislikes him; bis vivacity and companionableness would preclude that; but she gauges rightly the vanity and shallowness of his char- acter, and when she mentally compares him to some one else who towers as high above him in mental attributes as he does in stature, could Rupert read the verdict, chagrin would mark him for its own As it is, however, he leaves the farm with his self-satisfaction un- impaired. “A season in town to complete what these two weeks have begun, and Rau- pert, old fellow, your future's assured, No more need to quail before the gov- ernor’s eyes when the dues come pour- ing in! As to fun sand freedom, a Bene- diet 18 as much his own master as a bachelor, if he chooses to be,” Such were the thoughts that fill the | him upon his homeward journey, Two months go by and then two let- | tars come to Brierwood farm, one ad: dressed to Mr. Rose, ‘I'hey are both from Mrs, Arnold, ! Rupert's mother, and contain an urgent cousin in their city home, The letters are worded with such graceful tact and such warm cordiality, that even had the wish to say no been strong, it would have been difficult to do so. “Wou'!d you like to go, Rosebud, to see with you're own eyes what the won - derful ofty is like?” Rose's brown eyes fairly caine, *‘Indeed I would!” she ories. “And John--what does he say?” the { old man asks, with a glance in the di- rection of the tall young man, who, | leaning against the mantel-pioce, is gaz. ing with a world of ardeut tenderness | and admiration at the fairy golden- | haired girl, whose animated face turns | to nim at ber uncle’s query. { “That I shall be glad for Rosebud to | have a chance to see the gay world and | its doings before she settles down into | wife?'* he says, heartily. i { And so it is settled; and Rose departs | home. At first the dazzling galety and i | and almost frighten the little country | girl, | thing as a matter of course, and to en- | ter into and enjoy it all, { trained in purity and truth, her head | would surely be turned by the adulation {| wherever she goes. Bat those who love { no fear for her the brilliant scemes in which she is a | participant only serve to amuse and di- Bose need have | voluminous letters that wend their way | other home in the village some few | miles distant, where they are perused as they read. One morning the Arnold sons of Mrs, Arnoid’s sister and her two daughters, The day passes amid quiet converaa- | tion, and, at length, in the hour be. | tween sundown and dusk, a game of | hide-and-seek is proposed by one of the young peoples, Slipping quietly into the library, Rose epsconces herself snngly behind the draperies of the bey window, Hardly bad she done so when the door opens and Mrs, Arnold and her sister ender, Rose does not stir, thinking that th | ensure her own secarity, for. of course, both ladies will disavow having seen any of the hiders hey begin at once to converse, “How handsome Rupert is,” i Moore says, ‘*Maria, when is his gagemnent to Miss Martello to be con- summated?” “Oh, that was off six months ago,” Mrs. Amold saswers, “Her father eh longer a suitable wife for him. He draw,” the proper person to throw into daily association with a young map whose ! face, which, I must confess, is the pret- ! tient 1 have ever seen?” | score, Barah, dear, Let me tall | something. That girl, although as yet no ope kuows it Lut my husband aod | Rupert and myself, is an heiress. You { remember meeting that old eccentric {| Hugh Heydon at my house? Well, he | died three months ago and left my hus- band the sole manager of his estate, the | whole bulk of which he left, entirely | disregarding his ooly child whom he | had disinherited years belore, to the | daughter of &» woman whom he had | loved and been separated from iu eavly | youth, 1 i | lawyer and confidential friend, no one ! but ourseves as yet knows the tenor of ! the will, I no sooner heard of it than to ihe habitue of , the absolute truth aud candor of her character after the first ceased to interest, “However, do uot fear, mother, dear, that I am going to spoil your plans. Althongh & must confess that, after the girls of our set, shis country maiden's attractions still a hundred tho. sand is not” to be picked fp every day, and, i I do not mean the tidy listie ai fo €O Ww any th ah SOM ir i ——- "ee *.. + Rupert, m of au s His father is iu | easy circumstances, but by no means {able to shoulder Rupert's | ganoer, Do wot think that I am dis. paragnig my son; he is only what his education bas made him, and uot one whit wilder theu others of his sek Once settled down with a rich wife he will be all that his relatives ean wish.” “But the girl—you do not seem to think of her im the matter,” Mrs. Moore suggests, “Ob, she sdmires Rupert exoeeding. iy, Dio bits pinyed in game wall," had Bow, listening with fnshea A fow hours later, in the conserva: tory, whither Rapert had led her from the she listens while in of : ated ardor he pleads suit, Bhe waits until he pauses, then look- ing up straight into his eyes, she says quietly, with an emphas s upon the first word; “Qousin Rupert, you surely would not have spoken as you have just now had you known that the girl you ad- dressed was already betrothed, But to counteract any disappointment this knowledge may cause you, let me hasten to assure you that, although Rose May has recently been left a large fortune, she will in no wise be benefitted by it, for nuder no consideration could she be induced to accept a farthing that right. fully belongs to another. You look amazed. Yes, I know all.” Rupert's look of utter astonishment and embarrassment is a study, When Rose rises with all the dignity of an injured queen, ke can only gaze at her speechless, and when she goes he makes no attempt to detain her, ’ He is foiled, and his mother's well- | laid scheme is a failure-—there is no doubt of that, And with a perturbed { mind he seeks the latter to confer with { had just received. | Arnold. | the girl felt so outraged in every fiber of her being. from an stmosphere where treachery and duplicity lurk beneath the guise of courtesy and pretended affection. As swiftly as it is possible her ar- rangements for departure are com- pleted. Mrs, Arnold makes no endevor to de- tain her. has condemned herself! A few evening's later, with her hand clasped in her lover's, Rose relates to has so unexpectedly been left to her, noble and just, Her recent experience has raised our little country maiden { from the unsuspicious trust and faith with which her young eyes have hith- { erto regarded everything aud every- | body. John's face grows very grave as he | listens, “And is it possible, Rose,” he ex- | disinherited child?” is too unmistakable to stood, For a moment Rose remains silent; then looking up with a gleeful laugh, | she nestles closer to his side, too, quite agree with you. I have my fortune—a richer one than gold miues conid give. What care I for any other?" g And so the of , through nobility husband and wife in the far West have for ever beyond want and suffering, cn————EE A — An Experience. “(Gertie, my cousin Harry Rogers, from Dako coming to make our family a visit, so I'm going to d the coming week to bis pleasure, It will necessitate an absence from the city for a few days, but we'll manage to exist the separation, 1 guess So, 1-by, sweetheart, good-by." spoke Robert Fanshaw to his fiancee, Gertrude Seville, one evening in December, With a bright laugh t { parted, neither having misgiving that before a week should pass each ! would appear in an entirely different light, The first train from : day morring brought his destination. Robert was awaiting his arrival, and could hardly realize that few vears intervening since last he had seen his could so have transformed m into the fine, manly figure he { before him, “Ah, Harry, old boy, glad to see you; | couldn’t have selected a better time for i coming. for if there's anv life in this old { town it's now-=and the finest sleighing! i Jump in and we'll give it a test home,’ At length they arrived at Willow Brook farm, and big and little trooped fout to see cousin ‘Hal,’ as he was fa { miliarly dubbed, Pleasures [olowed { one another, making the hours | quickly, for the tine had nearly arrived t when Harry should return home “By the way,’ said Hal. a day before his intended departure, ‘am I never to get sight of your fir inamorast? Do you fear I’M prove a. Lochinvar and carry her to the wild West? “To tell the truth I would have been a little uneasy on that score had 1 not | known that Gertie was a little fasti dious. Bat, joking aside, here is a copy of a note 1 sent her by a messen- ger boy on the day of your arrival: “Dean GerTiE-—Harry has just ar | rived. 1 have decided to take him te | | Willow Brook farm this evening, and | | spend the week introducing him to his | country consins, i “If perfectly agreeable aud conven | ent to you, we will spend the evening | of December 22 at your home. Besure | xvid svOoLe SHOX 0 ey y parted. 3 he weston Mon. Harry Rogers to $3 Lie COUR} 80 is i iy awn another evening. Asever, ROopErt." | “80 you see, my boy, everything is all right, for I have received no reply, | and Gertie is very punctual, I can al | ways rely upon her. Eh! Hal?” i “Yes, I know all about it; | bhuve had some experience myself, you know, Fact is, Rob, there's ome one waiting | to make me a happy man when 1 go | home.’ : “My best wishes, old boy; and say, | Si him, and-——well, 1 1 Lave uot ween her-—well, for a week; Lh mm £ WW The next morning, ns Robert and Farry were sitting in the office, they & pe: pumas were startled by the violent ringing of the telephone bell. “Bob, you're in for it now. I war- rant it's some old woman who would like to fourish a broomstick in your directio: for not attend ing to her order.’ | tHe!lot “He! ol! Is that you, Hob?" “Oh, Trertie; what is it?” ’ “1 hae not heard fron: you; where | have you been?” “Why, out of the city. ut, say,you | know we're coming up to ght?” I’m going to a reception Well, this was a poser. On the im- | pulse of the moment Robert angrily put | up the mouthpiece. ers was his fond- | est anticipation dashed to 1he ground, | but with a wonderful control of the will he calmly replied. “All right; we’ll make just a short call.” Then, turning to Harry: ‘Well, I can’t understand it, Gertie seems to | have an engagement for this evening.” | Swallowing lis mortification, Harry ! put the best best face on the matter he could, simply for Bob's sake and re- | plied : “All right, Bob, just the thing;haven’t been to the theatre in quite a while,’ lobert mentally swore eternal alle- | gianee to his sympathetic cousin, | Eight o'clock that evening found | them in the parlor of Mrs, Seville’s res. idenee, Gertrude appeared light-hearted, and was becomingly attired for the recep- tion. Robert, stern and dignified, thought she had never appeared frivolous, and wondered that she could 80 lightly laugh and converse after caus- | ing him so many misgivings. On the other hand Harry felt won- derfully ill at ease, for he thought Miss Gertie appeared quiteexcited. In fact, confident that she expected an | escort, and was fearful lest a4 meeting | should oceur. Suddenly Gertie noticed the apparent social coolness, and was doubly perplex- | ed when Robert sald as they were about departing, that he did not know as he should be up on the next evening. Now was she certain that something had happened, yet what she could not conjecture, There was no opportunity for an explanation, and so they parted — Robert and Harry going to the thea tre to see the “Sea of Ice," and to Ro- | bert Fanshaw it was indeed a sea, but | a sea of conflicting thought, The play ended, Robert accompanied Harry to the midnight express and gave him good-by. “Poor fellow,” soliloquized Harry. | *'I fear be has made a mistake, for if I | ! am not greatly deceived that girl's a a fool of Bob. Well, | | they say matches are made in heaven, | but I declare some seem {0 possess con- siderable brimstone,” In the meantime, the door having closed upon t two gentlemen, Ger- | trude rushed from one conclusion to another, “I know there is a misunder- standing somewhere, but 1'll make him explain it all. Ile was angry this eve- | ning, but his nse will at last pre- { dominate 840) | flirt, and maki fie TOA wl se < ghe the carriage and arrived scene of gave The next evening proved that Ger- trude had ized her lover, for lobert was re sealed in the parior of the Sevill and the ‘Gertie, ‘ £ not HASTY JU what mduces you t you have?" “What man nanne; ner? Indeed. 1 think it is you who have been acling. You looked as cross as an old bear last night, and expressed doubts as to whether you would be here this evening.” “Don’t you think I have provocation?’ “Provocation! Well, that surpasses all bounds. Why, when 1 had heard from 3 the time your eousin | was here, excepl the le ne message nid then" “*Not heard from me! Is it possible, Gertie you didnt receive a note of which this is a copy? 1 sent it by messen ger boy the day of Harry's arrival.’ ’ t the copy not OU All titi Piste : a Gertrude gases a n mute astonishment. The note had no delivered, Here, then, was the “missing link" that again restored two minds, at least, to their wonted equilibrium. The re ception Gertrude had attended was of a very dear friend, wd she had ac cepted the invitation before receiving Robert's telephone message. On the other hand, Rob sad not noticed that in her message, which would have ex plained—namely, ‘I have not heard | from you.’ A ss A> Davy Jones Loeker, ihe following explanation is given of the origin and meaning of the phrase “Davy Jones’ Locker,” used by sea- men, The etymology seems to be rather fanciful, but it may be correct. Atl any rate, it will do until a belter theory is found: Sailors call the sea “Davy Jones’ Locker” becanse the dead are thrown there. Davy is a corruption of “duffy,” known among the West Indian negroes, and Jones isa corruption of the Prophet | Jonah, who was thrown into the sea. | Locker, in seaman’s pariance, means any receptacle for private stores. So that when a sailor says, ‘‘He’s gone to Davy Jones Locker,’ he means, ‘He is | gone to the place of safe-keeping, where | duffy Jonah was sent to." | Smollets tells us in ‘Peregrine Pick- | 16” that, according to the mythology of | sailors, this self-same Davy Jones is the fiend that presides over all the evil | spirits of the sea and is seen in various | of death or woe, | i i ii i Yrorita Upas Troe, ! Upon the keys south of Diytona there grows a veritable Upas tree, called the machineel. Any one taking shelter under 1t during a rain or sleeping under it when the dew falls is sure to be poisoned. One who experienced it says: “It swells a fellow all up and makes him feel as if he had been skinned and peppered,” Sewing sowe of the wood make canes for the Exposition, a Hall, of Daytona, suffered from its poisonous effects so severely that be refuses to handle it again at any price, i No man ever heeame grat or good exospt through many and great mis. to | takes, 3 Belng A Woman, R is 8 dreadful bother to be a wom- an and do the business up in good shape, In the first place you've got may be ever so homely and still be wrinkle bad on his forehead his friends thosghtful disposition, and tell each his wrinkles are lines ot Lines of thought, indeed, when in ail probability his forehead is wrirkled by the bad habit he has got of scowling at his wife when the coffee isn’t ptrong enongh, A woman must always be in good erder, the must powder if she has 8 shining #kin; and she must manage to look sweet, no matter how sour she may feel; her dress must hang justiso, and her boot buttons always in place, and her finger nails always clean; and then slic rye Sle can't go out alone, because ladies must be protected; she can't rey § Aany- won't stay frizzed and she'll get mud on her petticoats and things; sh: can’t be a Free Mason, because eho would unfeminine; she can't that would not go courving, be womanly, 26, or everybody will feel wronged. why it is that men “don’t seem to take; and all the cld maids and widows smile and keep quiet, and these significant looks! ten times more than open slanders, is a terrible thing to be an old mad, who are married to drunken husbands, and who manage to quarrel with them six days out of reven, will live mn and call her that “poor old maid.” A woman must marry rich or she doesn't marry “well” And to marry “well” is the end and aim of » woman's existence, judging from the view which people in geoeral take of this matter. marries, The put their man hood whole neighbor. heads together (There is nothing said about his being good enough for her.) And they oriti- cise the shape of her nose, aud relate was, and how her Aunt Bally used to soll beans and butter-milk. A woman must wear No, 2 boots on No, 3 and she must manage to dress well on cents a week, and she musn't be vain, and she must go regularly sewing socisty moeun and to dress dolls and © it aprons for church fairs. She must be a good cook, and she must be able to “do up” her husban’s shirts so that the Chinese washermsr wonld groan with envy and guash his teeth with the same unholy passion atl the sight of them. She mast always have the masculine buttons of the family sewed on su they ry in re ig y the be ready juke tidies she must keep the family hosiery so that nobody would ever mistrust that there were toes in the stockings while they were on, She must hold hersell in constant realiness to find everything has jost—and a man never knows where to find anytinog, He will his boots carefully away ou the parlor sofa. and when he has hunted for them half an hour he will suddenly appesr to his wife with a countenance like an aveuging and demand “What in thander slic Las done with his boots,” She m t all the doors after her lord ana master, and likewise the burean drawers, for a mar. ried man was never known to shut a It would be as unvstural a hen to goin swimming for recreation, She must go to bed fist in cold weather s0 as to get the bed warm Her hnsband, if be be a wiss man, never asks her to do this. Oa, no! bat he sits to “just finish this piece in the paper,” and wails till she has the sheets a comfortable temperature, Al, there are a great many tricks in the trade of living together, A woman is expected to take care of the baby even the first infantile wonder has un oral uig 1st shu rs for is iu fol to And if he doubles up with the colic or trials of entting teeth or the necessary and throat distemper and short sleeves nd too much candy and a bad temper, why her husband tells her that he “does and he says it 100 as if he thought s he alone was responsible for its bewmag in ably to blame for it too. And when she has the headache no- body thinks of minding it—a woman's And if tucks her on the lounge with a shaw’ man has to be coddled under such cir. cnmstances, We might go on indefi- nitely with the troubles of being a wo- man, and if there is a man who thinks a women has an easy time of it, why, hair and get inside a pair of corsets, and put on a pull.-back overshirt, and be a woman himsel! and see how he likes it, Restoration, Osman Digma says El Mahdi intends to restore the whole Nile Valley, from source to mouth, to Mohammedan con- trol, ana after Ye has taken Cairo he will send envoys to Constantinople in. viting the Sultan to form an alliance with him against all Christendom. Tracing paper may be made immersing best tissue paper ina composed of tine and bleached beeswax an inch Bo tos ho give . be allowed to dry for two or before it is used, Facts about Big Fees. “Many big fees have been received by patent lawyers, Prof. Morse spent a fortune in the courts defending his first patents, but he got all back mn the value of the patents, Every invention of im- dearly for legal services. Signal instan- ces of this fact have been seen in the vuleanite rubber, barbed iron fence, nickel-plating, burglar-alarm, sewing- machine, and other patent cases, in all of which fortunes were paid to lawyers, In such cases the labor of lawyers 18 the pay appropriately large, Good pa- are furrowed with care, “Mr Evarts has got some very big fees from corporations, from will cases, and contested sults, He could of a great many $10.- When a suitor has a hard does not hesitate at paying a few thousand dollars to u good lawyer. or ong with a good case times to the court | IAW~ ry. When sulter has been two or Lhree of in yer's blunders, he begins to think pays to gel a good one, “Not along ago it was unlawful and unprofessional for a lawyer a Per ints in the case Al { 5318 Cli This obviously unjust to po« 4 t “a ADDEALS seq uence of (4 iv to have mn i i was i: J wr iL injured on a y unable 10 get i & + it got a loan ge damages because of ns poverty to be proverbial that there was no use The Lor Now it is law- bes POOT Age e for a lawyer to and to make his fees contingent on 5 By the operation of the self-interest the lawyer thus works harder than he otherwise would. Many IS WAY recover- otherwise 4 nemo. B. Haskin took five f a had over and her as his " std law of ad verdicts who woud become vagrants. I rable case where Jo nave eC hin i lect LS POW ( widower who acknowledged ghe and wealthy again althe wife, agh her children for years the case to the court of appeals against John H. Anthon, backed by ithe ch ren of his wife, Of course Mr. Haskl was paid handsomely out of the estate which he recovered for the widow. “Many large corporations have sala- ried lawyers to look after their business, Judge Dillon left the bench of the Uni- ted States court to take a salary of $20,000 from the Union iffy way company. Dudley Field enormous fees oul o i company and the eleval railways, The lawvers saved Lhe elevated rarlwavs about $1,250 tax suits with the city as the courte cut down the bills nt that sui. counsel {or large corporations : iy Cc Equitaly i Mut Ad Life, i rd hi coi ny, and institutions o like magni received handsome incomes, and devote 1 ¥ themselv iargely to business of 41 id & i od 1 000 in the A the $102 the Slat f Po the Ben Butler, Roscoe r Edmunds, or Judge lack cou Il volumes of records There is, in fact, always a for lawyers who can earn big fees. Ti are so many novelties of the law many expedients and devi- ces Lo suit new circumstances, that men { peneration and of skill in devious expedients can find plenty of scope. “An Indiana railroad company once employed Gen. Foster to draw up a contract for them. He drew it on one sheet of paper and charged $20, The company paid and growled. He told them 10 try a certam high-priced lawyer the next time. They did so. The other lawyer sent around and borrowed copy of the contract from ge, turned in a neatly engrossed and charged $2,500, jut the mpany fell satisfiad that they bad a et that would hold water, old days of allowances out of the surrogate a lot of Is been retained in a will case, nothing to do because of the of the frightened litigants, the surrogate’s office to have llowances set The surrogate itted the lawyers to settle it among — themelves Conkling, Ser Jere of 1 demand i aa i ig foes ‘re 80 x the oid {se tied. The gentlemen of the bar agreed to parcel out a very large slice of the estate, each one belng most liberal to his learned brother. While this was going on the stenographer of the court, who was a great wag, handed up a bill “ “Why, you have not written a word in this case,’ said the surrogate. “+f know it," was the bland reply. ‘“Then how do you ciaym this §1.- “i've as much right to it as the law- yers,’ was the reply. But the surrogate plucked I'* In the Rollwagon will case Henry Li. In the Vanderbiit check from Mrs, La Bau for $15,000, and other fees during the trial, and Scott Lord had some large fees. Mr. Joseph H. Choate came in for a big fee on the other side, The big fees of receivers and their lawyers have attracted much recent legislation, and the enormous sums paid in this direction will not hereafter be repeated, There are several cases on record where receivers have received fortunes for merely nominal work, Lp 55 SAAT Mother Eve's Tomb, Situated in the desert, about a quar. ter of a mile from (he western of the city of Jeddah, 1s an object of inte. rest to Christian and Mussalman alike thie ve of Eve, or aa she is called in Arabia, ‘‘Sittna Hawwa,* the mother of mankind. Jt is difficult to trace the hgend that allots to Eve nb as het last stating place, and it is yi DO aia any great antiqhity, However this may be, the tomb Is regarded with great veneration al art er maa] Riruns ship at the shrin ol
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers