FOR SOMEBODY'S SAKE,
As over life's mountains and vales
Our migrimage journey we take,
We add to our trouble and care,
And heavy burdens we bear
For somebody's sake.
Though deeply we're wounded by grief,
Yhough the heart may continue to ache,
Our sorrows we keep out of sight,
And our faces are smiling and bright
For somebody's sake,
We labor and toll all the day,
And many a sacrifice make,
And at night may be weary and worn
With the trials we've cheerfully borne
For somebody's sake.
Though humble our dwelling may be,
Though simple the food we partake,
Qur happiness may be assured,
And poverty’'s ills be endured
For somebody's sake.
What wonderful tasks we achieve!
What wonderful deeds undertakel
And how sweet is the victory won,
When all we've accomplished was done
For somebody's sake!
The struggle that's only for self
No joy among angels may wake, :
But the brightest of crowns will he given
Those who have suffered and striven
For somebody's sake,
IIIS SRSA
AN OLD LAWYER'S STORY.
I am an very old man now. So old
that 1 work no longer as I used at my
profession. The time of rest has come.
1t 1s a happy time. 1 am not poor,
have all life's luxuries. Best of all, I
have a wife who loves
children are beautiful and prosperous.
What can a man wish more?
I read my favorite authors,
my cigars.
evening.
I smoke
Sometimes we go toa play.
Every Sunday morning to church. It
is all holiday-time for us. It will not
last long. We are both old, but we are
happy.
There is no romance about a lawyer's
profession. People are disposed to sneer
at it, speak of its followers as
tricky sort of folks, more anxious for
their own 2.» than that of their neigh-
bors, If we do not stand
alone; but 1 say for
hood, that have hearts as well as
other men,
merely for what we can ma
we undertake a cause,
Odd things fall into our way very
often. 1 have had no need to read ro-
mances. The real stories that have
fallen beneath my notice are quite as
interesting, apd far more singular, than
any tales of the imagination could pos-
gibly be. 1 tell them to my children
or :
alia
Y
they
s of winter evenings.
sit is only to flatter the old
they assume an interest in
heless I will tell one of the
one which I have.aiway#
to remember.
MARY years ago, while I was
comparatively a young man, and still
apmar: a certain City
of Peunpsvivania, and enjoyed the repu-
tation of being the cleverest lawyer ever
known there. It is not for me to say
the praise was merited, but I certainly
found myself able to discover loopholes
of escape for those whom I defended,
which surprised even my fellow law-
vers, I possessed by nature those quali-
Mi. i resideda ia
excellent detective, and I was a thor-
ough student of the law. There was no
mystery about it, but among the more
ignorant classes I had gained a reputa-
tion for more than human knowledge.
Perhaps it was not polite for them
gay Ul the devil heiped me, but they
did.
However, 1 began to tell you about
Madame Matteau.
She was an old lady, who owned a
little house in the suburbs of the city.
She herself was of American birth, but
her husband had been a Frenchman,
and so the title Madame had been be-
Liv
Oo
#
ah
Tr
fe
end her danghter Gabrielle, and a son
named Henri, were her only living rela-
tives. Her income was bul slender,
and she eked it out by taking a few
boarder: generally steady old people,
who had known her for many years
These respected and liked her, but the
city generally had a prejudice against
her. There had been two sudden deaths
in her Each time the victim
Was
was found dead in his bed in the morn-
ing. Each time the jury was divided—
some believing that strangulation had
house.
man had died in a it.
It was a terrible thing that two such
deaths should have occurred beneath
her roof.
The rest of the little world hinted that
these were strangers, and that their
trunks, with no one knew whatamount
of money and other valuable property,
remained in Madame’s possession. No
one said she was a murderess, but every
ene said it was ‘‘very strange,” in an
odd tone, and no one since that second
death had visited Madame Matteau.
much more—had always insisted that it
den deaths in the same house, But my
faith in this theory was shaken when
one morning it was published over the
eity tLat another transient boarder had
been found dead in Madame Mattean’s
touse, and that she was arrested on
guspicion of having murdered him, his
her possession.
Before 1
shock of this terrible piece of news, a
message came to me from Madame
Mattean, She desired fo see me, Of
course | went to her at once,
She had been taken to prison; and I
found ber in a little grim room with a
barrel window, and an insufficient fire
upon the hearth. The logs had burnt
mn two upon
white ashes were scattered over the
hearth, Almost in them sat Madame
Matteau, wn her widow's dress of som-
bre black.
She was cinlly with and excite.
had drawn chair close to
head to foot
pale as she
Jushel it toward me and held out her
“Oh, thank Heaven, you have comel”’
she said, “I know you can save me.
man? Why shouid I? Why do people
| come to my house to die? To dle horri-
| bly, with black faces and starting eyes,
as if some one had choked them? Ughl
night before.
horrible?
I sat down beside her.
hand.
‘Madame Matteaun,”
salm; collect yourself. As your law-
yer, I must know all. Tell me from
first to last what happened-—what was
said, what was done. If you—mr"
Oh, good Heaven, how
I said, “be
upon me! I could not ask ber whether
she had any confession to make. I saw
she had not.
Lean was innocent of any crime,
“If you have any suspicions,
ded *‘tell them all to me.”
“There is no one to suspect,’ sobbed
| the poor woman
| “In the house were Gabrielle, my
daughter, whom you have seen, old
Hannah, the cook, Mr. and Mrs, Deau-
| champ friends of my poor dear husband
in his boyhood—the best, the kindest
people—Mr. Gray, a very old man, Loo
| feeble to leave the house, poor deforin-
ed Miss Norman, and
Bassford. None of these could or
would murder a mouse. Bee how kind
they are; they remain in my house, they
send me word that they have no doubt
of me. Oh how can anybody?”’
“And this man who—"" I began.
“Yes said Madame Matteau, ** i
will tell you; he was fair, young, hand-
somely dressed; he asked Mr. Bassford
at the depot if he knew of any one who
could accommodate him, Mr.
ford brought him home,
” 1ad-
other two strangers died. I could not
bear to put him there; but Mr. Bassford
laughed at
ward.
brielle.
late for our quiet household. Hannah
had made his fire, She came and told
us that she had done so.
pight.
After he had gone, we found that he
had left his watch on the table.
wore it only with a bunch of seals, and
he had been setting it by the clock, and
showing it to us as something very hand-
some. 1 knocked at his door to restore
i
i
i
i
ye night, and wore it
As 1
the
So I kept it for U
down to breakiast next morning.
came down I met a gentleman in
hall. He inquired for Mr, Glenn, That
was the new ¢ name, I sent
Hannah m. She could not
do so and grew alarmed, She had a
key that would open the door, and used
The next thing [ knew we were all
in the room, windows were
wide open, and the dq had been sent
wr and the young ho had called
vas screaming that his brother had been
hoked to death; and then there was the
nquest, and arrested The
brother said t thing 4
was that I wore Mr, Glenn's watch and
seals. I had forgotten it in my terror.’
«Sn Hannah had a key to the room?"
I said.
“Yes; at least it wasa ke
open it, It was
fords's door. ocked the
out with a stick and put that in.”
“The people who were there on i
night were your boarders when
other two men were found dead?”
asked,
“Oh, yes”
“And Hannah was there also?”
“All my married life Hannah bas
lived with me.”
“Your daughter oversees the house-
hold in your absence?’
“Yes, poor
i help.”
I thought a little while.
“Madame,” I said. ‘there is some
strange mystery in this affair. 1do not
despalr of proving to all the world your
entire innocente. Meanwhile, bs as
| calm as possible, and endeavor to re-
member everything connected with the
sudden deaths that have occurred in
your house. The incident that seems
the most untmportant may really ve of
the most immense value,
So 1 left her and went home,
Strangely enongh, on the way I met the
doctor who had been called in,
| a dull, heavy sort of person, considera
bly given
opinion of his ability was not very great.
| However, I questioned him ou the sub-
| ject, and he replied:
to
A
pila
they
$1 wy
LE GIES
that « 14
COAL Wotlid
od 4
f Mr, Bass
the key of
She i other
at
he
h
chil Hannah's
wid
Wisi
| woman murdered him.
| should say it was by sitting on him, or
| smothering him with the bolsters, 1
suppose the cause of his death was
| asphyxia. Why, too little breath to
| keep on livin
| short of breath. So we'all do. 1 wash
| my hands of the matter.
the watch that looks dark.’’
tor, The coroner lived near me.
| jury had been twelve of the most igno-
rant men in town.
This 1s all be told me:
were the other two. Men don’t smother
themselves. We made it inscrutible
Providence t'other time. We made it
murder this. That there watch, you
know.’
Thus, without any new light, I went
home and formed my plans, There
was but one way in which to penetrate
the mystery. | mustenter the house; 1
| must see the people there: 1 must pene-
trate to the room in which these men
had died suddenly, and 1 must not be in
my real character. That Madame Mat-
teau was innocent, I fully believed; but
that some one beneath her roof was
guilty I made no doubt, It might be
Hannah. It might be the librarian, Mr.
Basford whose key fitted dead
man’s door, It was impossible—but no,
{ would not harbor a mad superstition,
| There could be no supernatural power
hich human beings drooped
Death as it came to us all
was mystery enough, What had been
said to me Ly 2 woman, |
spirit she lived to-day,
“some awful,
when it 18 locked in with its victim,
murders him, Let others believe what
they will, I believe that.”
The words haunted me, but I laugh-
ed a# them of course. Whatever it was |
I would try to know. I had a plan. |
At dusk that day I went into my bed-
room myself, 1 came out a changed |
man. 1 wore a white wig, a pair of
green goggles, and an overcoat the tails |
of whish reached my heels, I had a
muffler about my throat, and a little |
hunch on one of my shoulders. I car- |
ried a thick cane and stooped a great |
deal as I walked. In my hand I carried
a carpet bag, and in my bosom a pair of
pistols, well loaded.
As I passed out into the street the
early moon was just rising; she lit me
on my way to the door of Madame Mat-
teau’s house,
It was opened for me by old Hannah,
Her eyes were red and swollen. Then
received Madame Matteau’s address
desired to stay under her root all night.
she shook her head.
“I don’t think you can,” she said. |
“The lady is away from home, Besides, |
we are in trouble here. I don’t think
Miss Gabrielle would—"
Isut here Miss Gabrielle herself ap- |
peared.
“I am an old man, Miss,” I said,” |
“and as you see, quite infirm, I dread |
wnother step, I should take it as a
kindpess if you would accommodate
Miss Gabrielle looked at Hannah.
“We have only one room,” she said, |
il i
I ended the question of my stay by
begging to be taken to it.
“You will have supper, sir?” asked
the girl.
But I declared,
only wanted rest,
Her reply was:
“Hannah show the gentleman to the
blue room, and make a fire,”’ i
I was in the blue room, the scene of |
the three sudden deaths or murders. It!
was a small apartment, painted blue, It |
had also a blue window curtains, and a |
blue silk coverlet on the bed, a neat
striped carpet, a set of old mahogany |
furniture, and a very handsome ewer
and a basin of costly ehina. It was at
the time almost a universal custom to
burn wood. In this room, however was
a small coal stove, 1 alluded to this as
Hannah came in with the scuttle.
“Yes, sir,” gaid, Missus
burn coals, Her son is a clerk, or the
lke, at them new mines in Mauch
Chunk, and he sends it cheap to her;
but it’s a dirty, nasty smelling thing
and I hate it. Now it's built and
twill warm up in fifteen minutes,
os longer than wood.”
went out of the door and eame
back in 8 minute with a little tray on
which stood a pot and cup and saucer,
also a little bowl and a tiny pitcher, and
something in a napkin.
“Miss sent a bite and a nip,”
he, “Ten rests us old folks mightil
rood night,
“Good night,”
Sie S000
that I had eaten and
she does
iit
It
sald
y.
I said.
shall I must
ough, for 1 baye bills
some hundreds of lara with me to
pay out to-morrow, and it’s in this bag.’
She looked at me in a queer sort of a
way, and lingered Ix me, Al
sie spoke: “l.00K ye, gir," she said, “]
think that old folks of Your age
rong to lock di on themselves.
‘ou might be ill at night, and who'd
get into you? Leave your door unlock-
ed.”
The moment she Was gone I turned
the key,
Was it this woman's practice to beg
travelers who stopped with her mistress
not to lock the doors? Was thete some
baneful portion in the cup she had given
me?
It was an innocent looking cup enough
—.an old-fashioned affair covered with
little gilt sprigs. The tea was fragrant
hyson; but the suspicion that had crept
into my mind tainted I fancied a
strange color, a curious sinell, I put
from me and would not have tasted |
for a kingdom.
1 had not intended to sleep, and 1 did
not undress myself. 1 merely removed
my disguise, and sat down beside the
table. with my pistols beside me, That
some attempt might be shortly made to
murder me I felt to be possible. 1
thought of all the old tales that I had |
heard of trap doors, and sliding panels,
“1
be
expect 1
up early,
o pay. I have
dol
de ast
GO
HOTS
it
is
#
¥
I was not a coward, but I felt strangely |
nervous; and singularly enough for ® |
man of my perfect health, my hands
lumps of ice, while my head was burn-
Fifteen minutes had passed, and the
fire was kindled, but the room was not
warm. The blue flames stroggied |
i
i
room. There was nothing cheerful |
aboiit the stove, though it was of that |
Yet,
I drew a chair toward it from habit,
and sat with my feet upon the hearth.
I do not know how long 1 sat there. |
Suddenly I became aware that I was |
if, I was losing my senses, i
and an unseen knee had been
presse | against my chest, my sensations
eonld have been no different.
A thought of the evil spirit which my
friend had suggested, faintly struggled
mto my mind, As [staggered to my
feet, a noise like the roaring of the sea
was in my ears, The flame of the can-
die turned to a great yellow blur. I
barely retained strength enough to stag-
ger to the window and fling it open.
The fresh, cold winter air rushed in at
it, It gave me intense pain but it revi.
ved me. In a moment more I was able
to clamber out of it upon the shed below.
There | remained until the day-dawn.
With my returning senses the truth
came to me, That which had murder-
ed three men who had slept before me
*
bility.
As for the fact that peither doctor
nor coroner discovered the truth, I have
scarcely used in the place, and that it
tad not been mentioned that the blue
chamber was thus heated,
Of course I rejoiced the household by
ty discovery the next morning, and
equally, of course, Madame Mautteau
was not only freed from all suspicion,
but became the object of universal sym-
pathy. She was always grateful to me,
and she proved her gratitude by giving
me what I soon asked for, the hand of
her daughter Gabrielle in marriage.
ston oA AI AAAI
The Siandered Climber.
We have frequently heard it main-
tained that it is injurious and unwise to
permit ivy to cover the walls of dwell
ing-houses, as it must necessarily occa-
sion an internal damp prejudicial to
health and eomfort by arresting the
rain and conducting it into the crevices
of the walls, detaining it there until it
Now,
and they are found
boldly asserting that no covering what-
ever is better calculated or more power-
fully and uniformly tends] to effect
ternally, than a general coat of ivy on
the outside,
ivy-colored wall, and
the leaves hanging down, one over
another, from the highest point to
which the plant attains to the ground,
forming an ornamental ghieid that casts
th
ev will discover
against the walls, conveying it from leaf
coming in contact with or moistening
the walls; while the clinging nature of
the plant, intended for the purpose of
adhesion, thrusts its shoots into the
as it ascends, and acts as 80 many suck-
ing engines, extracting and drawing
away for the nourishment of its own
luxuriance whatever meisture the walls
may be supposed to attract or imbibe
from the atmosphere. No walls are
forms a permament external covering.
Inside the shoots and next the wall will
be found, in addition, a coating of dry
dust and cobwebs, keeping the walls
perfectly dry in the weltest of weather,
and that, too, on aspect: mostly expo-
sed to the rain and least
ing smiles of the sun. Depend upon i,
vy clinging against a wali isa pre
from damp not a eause of 1.
read :rs plant ivy againt U
without any fear of
sults. Itisa warmth g
as many can testify.
ces against the emp)
to the
eco
Toe old
oyment of IV
external covering to buildings is raj
dying out, and will at
ease to be put forward as
tention,
-—-——
At the Sign of the Big Oyster.
A pretty good story Is going the
rounds by word of mouth, It is said
that a trio of members of the Illinois
Legislature went on a jamboree the
other day, and, having decorated the
town with pigment of a decidedly san-
guinary hue, concluded late in the
evening they would have some oysters,
There is no oyster-house on the south
side of Old Capitol Square, but the law-
givers were not aware of this. They
were not fully posted, and seeing a sign,
as they supposed, of an oyster-house,
they went up stairs ani sat down toa
sund table in a beautifully-furnmished
A gentleman very neatly dress.
ed came in and inquired:
“Gentleman, what can Ido for you?”
“Oysters for three, please,” one of
t trintaverate replied, “I'l take a
dozen raw.”
“imme a half dozen fried,’ said one
of the others.
“I'll take a dry stew chimed in the
third,
The proprietor looked dazed and wor-
ried, and began:
“But, gentlemen-—-"’
“0, we've got
i
i
¥
i
on.
»”
in advance, if you so desire,
“But, gentlemen" *‘Come, come!"
eried the man, impatiently. ‘We are
in a hurry.” . “But, gentlemen, this is
no oyster-house, This is *No
oyster-house!” exclaimed the trio
““Then you better take in your signof a
big oyster at the foot of the stalrs.
“Sign of a big oyster] Why, gentle-
men, you are mistaken, This is the
office of an artist, If you want your
ears doctored, 1 am at your service.
That sign is an ear—not au oyster!”
Then three members of the Legislature
looked sick and went out.
Many musical instruments are now
made of paper,
Few people are aware they do wagons
and carr more injury by greasing
too plentifully than ip any other way.
A well-made wheel will endure constant
care be taken to use the right hand and
proper amount of grease; but, if this
matter is not attended to it will be used
up in five or six years. Lard should
never bo on a for it will
penetrate the hab, and work its way
Andrew Knight tells us of a bird
which, having built her nest on a fore-
| ing house, ceased to visit it during the
| day when the heat of the house was
| sufficient to incubate the eggs; but al.
ways returned to sit upon the eggs at
| house Tell, Again, thread and worsted
| are now habitually used by sundry spe-
| cles of birds in building their nests, in-
| stead of wool and horse hair, which in
| turn were no doubt origmally substi-
| tutes for vegetable fibers and grasses.
| This is espeelally noticeable in the case
| of the tailor bird, which finds thread
the best material wherewith to sew.
| The common house sparrow furnish.
es another instance of intelligent adap-
| tation of nest building to circumstan-
ces. for in trees it builds a domed nest
| presumably, therefore, the ancestral
type—but in towns avails itsalf by pre-
ference of sheltered holes in buildings,
| where it can afford to save time and
| trouble by constructing a loosely-form-
{ed nest. Moreover, the chimney and
{ house swallows have similarly changed
their instincts of nidification, and in
America this change has taken place
| within the last two or three hundred
years. Indeed, according to Captain
Elliott Coues, all the species of swallow
on that continent—with
exception —have thus modified the sites
and structures of their nests in accord.
j ance with the novel facilities afforded
| by the settlement of the country.
Another instructive case of an intel-
| ligent change of instinct in connection
| with nest-building js given from a let-
ne
| 1862. which I find amone Mr, Darwin's
manuscripts. Mr. Houst says that the
Paradise duck, which naturally or us-
nally builds its nest along the river on
he ground, has been obs rved by him
on the east of the isla distur
bed in their nests upon the ground, to
build “new ones on the tops of high
| trees, afterward bringing their young
| ones down on their backs to the waler;
| and exactly the same thing bas been re-
corded by another observer of wild
ducks of Guiana. Now, if intelligent
adjustment to peculiar circumstances is
| thus adequate, not only to make a
whole breed or species of bird transport
their young upon their backs-—or, 4s in
the case of the woodcock, between their
lega—but even 10 make web-footed
water-fowl build their nests in high
trees, I think we can bave no doubt
that if the need of such adjustment
wore of
the intelligence which leads to it would
eventually produce a new and remarka-
of their ancestral in-
net of nest building.
when
the
t
| £
¥ " fiftsatine
bie modification
st
RA ——————
Washing the Afr,
Those who complain of rainy weath-
io not realize that vot only does the
need washing 1 y the air
hich we breathe so many times a day.
t of rain upon the air and the
of the rain have been made a
ation by the Meteoro-
UL Ais
The efi
£4 it #5
of examin:
rical Council of London during the
past years. Three stalions were
used for collecting the railfall—one
Bartholomew’s Hospital, another at
Upper Hamilton Terrace, in the north.
west portion of London, and a third at
Hackney. It Was found the rain con-
tained twice as much lmpurily as that
which fell at the suburban stations, and
the impurities gathered at all the sta
tions were in the same proportion.
The chief impurities were found to
be sulphates and chlorides, and it was
discovered that the main caught at Bt.
gi isiert
¥
WO
Hs
-
taste. The summer rain is more im-
pure than that of winter, and in the
mixture of London rain and soot a
trace of arsenic is found. In summer
the rain was shown to contain a larger
quantity of sulphates than chlorides,
which was supposed to be owing to the
decomposition of animal and vegetable
matter during the warm months, After
the rain had been falling for some time
the impurities are found to diminish,
and the satisfaction with which we
breathe in the washed air after a good
rainfall is an evidence thal our senses
| fication,
i HAP
Starving to Death.
| The symptoms of starvation from
| want of food are—severe paip in the
| pit of the stomach, which is relieved on
pressure; this subsides after a day or
two. but is succeeded by a feeling of
weakness and ‘sinking’ in the s.me
region; then an insatiable thirst super-
venes, which, if water be withhsid,
| thenceforth becomes the most distres-
| sing symptom. The countenance be-
| comes pale and cadaverous, the eyes
| acquire & uliarly wild and glistening
| stare, an general emaciation soon
| manifests itself,
| The body then exhales a peculiar
{ feotor, and the skin is covered with a
| brownish, dirty-looking and offensive
| secretion. The bodily strength rapidly
| declines;the sufferer totters in walking,
| his voloe becomes weak, and he is inca-
Lpable of the least exertion. The men-
| tal powers exhi it a similar prostiration;
| at first there is usually a state of stu-
which gradually increases to im-
y, 80 that it is difficult to induce
"the sufferer to make any effort for his
own benefit, and on this a state of man-
jacal delirium frequently supervenes.
the bod yap
Sorghum Bead,
1t is only a few weeks since considers.
able attention was attracted by the
statement of somebody up in Minnesota
that sorghum seed, ground into meal or
flour, made good food for man or beast,’
| and that the fact had been demonstra
| ted by actual and thorough tnal. Now
comes Dr. Collier of shedepartment of
agriculture at Washington and gives
the information that in great districts
| of India fully nine-tenths of the inhabi~
| tants subsist on sorgham seed; that in
the immense territory known as Turke
estan sorghum is the chief cereal, be.
cause, owing to the prevalent droughts,
| no other grain can be grown; that in the
northern part of China, whose inhabi«
tants are in America popularly supposed
| to live on rice, sorghum is grown exact
| ly as corn is here and used for the same
purpose; that he has secured from Chi-
na, India and South Africa seventy
| three varieties of sorghum seed which
| are entirely new to this country, gil of
| them extensively grown in their native
soils and not one of them ever cultiva-
| ted except for the seed and forage. “In=
| deed,” he says, ‘‘It is probably tree
| that for the past thousand years the
| seed of sorghum has furnished food in
| greater abundance for man and beast
| combined.?”’ He then goes on 10 argue
| that the seed of sorghum grown in this
country can easily be made to pay the
entire expense of cultivation, leaving
| the stalks to be crushed for sugar or
syrup and afterwards, in the pulp, to be
| used for ensilage or for paper making.
| With all these engaging qualities, it
| does seem strange that sorghum has nob
been handled in a manner to develop its
usefulness, and the ill success that has
attended its culture thus far naturally
casts a doubt on the glowing anticipa«
tions indulged in Ly itsadmirers, Still,
it must be remembered that it {akesa
long time to adjust the various agencies
necessary Wo carry out such plan as that
contemplated by Dr. Collier. If sore
ghum seed 18 valuable for food as corn,
it is manifestly a great waste to raise
| the plant for sugar alone, It isso few
years since the seed of the cotion plant
began to be utilized that it need surprise
n
, one to hear that the value of the sor-
ghum crop may be largely increased in
the same manner. The nutritious
quality of the seed is well known, but
farmers are not generally aware of its
availability as a grain, nor do they com-
prehend how easily a market could be
made for it were it to be offered in any
i
14 tit w
GUADLILY.
o
en MA AAS
Answering the Wrong Leiter,
United States Treasurer Spinner,
when in office use to receive a score of
requests daily for his autograzh, about
the oddest ever written. The labor of
answering them becaine so irksome that
ho had a form printed as follows: “Your
h a date) is hereby com-
When a request for his
autograph came in he signed the blank
form. But one day his “form” gol him
into trouble:
A tall raw
request of (suc
boned countryman walked
“Morning, sir,” said
11 hig oy
into 0s oul
3}
ne,
“Good morning,” said Spinner, look-
ap.
ing
“] pome for that place you promised
me,’ said the countryman, after an
awkward pause.
“Place?” said Spinner, crossly; “RE
omised you no place.”
“Yes, you did,” insisted the country-
man stoutly; “I’ve got your promise in
your own hand-writing.”’
With that he hauled out one of Spin-
per’s autograph replies: “Your request
of such a date,” ele.
“But, man alive,’ said Spioner,
‘that was in response toa request from
you for my autograph ’
“No twasn’t,” said the man; wf
never asked for no autograph. 1 want
a place; that's what I wrote for.”
Spinner had the man’s letter hunted
Sure enough, it was a formal ap-
plication for a place. “Here,” said
Spinner, emptying inlo his big band all
the money he had io his pocket, ‘“here’s
some money for you. 1 can’t give you
a place, 1 haven't any to give.” And
with that the countryman had to be
content.
pr
y
up.
ncnn—— I SS
A Wite's Buraen.
1 —
| A woman's pursuils and trials may
| appear very petty to the opposite sex,
| when at the close of the day she tries to
| gain the sympathetic ear of her hus
band. Yet donot regard this act of
| confidence as prompted by selfishness,
| that she may get rid of ber barden, for
after all, isit not a compliment to your
greater capacity for reasoning, and for
adjusting means 10 ends? And are you
sure when you meet your wife's appeal
for the help of your wisdom with the
careless, or it may bea grufl reply—
“Iron’t trouble me with your little cone
cerns, I hate a world of larger ones
pressing upon my attention!” Are you
sare. 1 ask, that you know of what you
are talking? Oh, husband, believing
that you are bearing all the burdens!
Did you ever try to calculate or to com-
prehend the drain on heart and brain
required to keep the home machinery
| running without an exasperaling frie.
tion? If your home in its domestic
| sconomy is blessed with this frictionless
| motion, you should not only regard
{ yourself as the most fortunate of mor
tals, but should begin 10 respect your
| wife's executive ability, if not to wor
ship her genius. And the conclusion
which is to be sought in trying to have
yout recognize in her this ability to suc
vessfully meet and conquer home diffi
that being equal to these, she
that, and to sympathize
most