CRADLE SONG,
Sleep, my pretty one,
Sleep, my little one,
Rose in the garden is blooming so red;
Over the flowers the fleet-footed hours
Dance into dreamland to melody wed;
To the voice of the stream~—to a song in
adream,
Sung low by the brook to its stone-covered
bed.
Sung soft as it goes,
And the heart of the rose
Gives a tremulons leap
As the melody flows,
Ab, little one, sleep,
Bleep.
Peace, my little one,
Peace, my preiiy one, 4
Lilies bend low to the breath of the bredge;
Lithe as a wiliow, the boat onethe billow
High tosses the spray for the sunlight to
tease, ; .
With a kiss and a tear—with a rainbow,
a fear,
For the light is the sun's and the
tho sea's;
And the wind o'er the lea
spray is
suited to the station to which you evi-
dently beloug.”
“It was a sudden impulse which led
me to answer your notice, Poor papa
has been gone from me a whole year,
and now I have just heard that all the
money he left is lost, It was invested
in a Fire Insurance Company, which
bas failed, I must earn my living some
way,”
“And so you pluckily seized the first
chance that scemed to present itself,
Good! I Ike your spirit, The taking
of such a trying and responsible place
as that of the directing spirit of my |
teastble; unt I have dn mvalid sunt who
is about to part with her companion— |
a lady wha Las come into a small pro- |
perty lately, and so does not need the |
position any longer,
“x yous
able imprefsion upon the old lady, who
is rather et in her way, it will be a |
neoeed in making a favors |
Breaks to melody free,
As the waves that release
The low laugh of the sea.
My pretty one, peace,
Peaca,
Joy, my pretty one,
Joy, wy little ove,
Fairies of night from their bright jeweled |
2nrs
Fling a faint sheen and shinmer on rip
ples where glimmer
up-gazing eyes of
BLAS;
And the boat, while i
song of the tides
As they kiss into languor the sand
bars,
Oh, river, flow fleet,
Ere the melody meet
The sea’s breath to destroy
W bat the echoes repeat;
My little one, joy,
Joy!
ETRE
HIS DAUGHTER.
“Come, Miss Agnes, or your luuch
will all be cold as a stone.”
As the kind old housekeeper looked
into the room her face took on an anx-
fous expression as she saw the bowed
young head, and heard the smothered |
sobs of the mistress of whom she was
so unselfishly fond.
““What is it, honey? Did the letter
bring bad news? Tell me about it, and
may be the telling of your trouble will
make it easier to bear.
Agnes raised her head apd looked at
Mrs, Willard in a dazed sort of way for
an instant, Then with an effort she |
controlled herself sufficiently to speak
and unburden her mind of the sad trath
whieh pressed so heavily upon if,
“We'll soon be without a home, Mrs, |
Willard! The money that papa left |
me is all lost, That letter is to tell
me.”
“Well, Miss Agnes, you have your
cousin Earnest to look to. He will take
care of you,”
A erimson
girl's palior,
“‘Hush, Mrs, Willard, don’s speak of
him to me again; he is married. The
news came this morning,”
“Bad luck to him! and he engaged
to yeu! He is a black-hearted—-"
“No, Mrs, Willard, he’s only fickle
and thoughtless, He fell desperately |
in love with the pretty young thing he |
bas married, and they have made a run- |
away match, I am glad he found out |
the nature of his liking for me before |
instead of after our union had taken
place, He had a cousinly fondness for |
me, That was all.”
Agnes spoke with a quiet dignity
which silenced her listener at once,
““Well, come and have your lunch
now. I broiled a bit of chicken for |
you, and I hope it will taste good, |
Sitting here and fretting won't mend |
things a bit.”
She succeed m coaxing Agnes into |
the dining -room, and poured oot a cup
of fragrant Mocha, laia the morning |
paper beside her plate, and then loft
ber alone,
Agnes sipped the coffee and tasted |
the chicken, Then she glanced over |
the columns of the newspaper,
An advertisement aftracted her at. |
tention. It was this:
“WANTED—A Housekeeper, Bhe |
must be active and good tempered, as |
well as competent to direct the domes- |
tice under her particular charge, Ad- |
dress E, Box 65."
“{ will have to earn my living now,” |
thought Agnes with a sigh, “and I kept |
house for papa; so why can’t I for some |
one olse? At any rate, I will answer |
this advertisement, and learn what kind |
of duties are required.”
Bhe wrote a note and sent it to the |
given address,
The following day brought a reply |
from Mr. Durant, requesting her to
call at the writer's house, and giving |
its number and the name of the street, |
After a long walk she reached the |
place. It was an imposing-looking |
mansion, A carriage was drawn up
before it, and a liveried footman ran
up the steps and gave a tromendous
peal at the bell, glancing st Agnes cur-
ionusly as he did so,
A servant came to the door, Agnes
gave him her card, and hie moved nowe-
leasly away, returning soon to say:
*‘ Please, Miss, walk into the library.”
A gentleman was seated at a table
writing, - He turned his head as A
entered, and looked at her EO at
first, then curiously. His eyes were
very dark and bright, and their expres-
sion was one of unmistakable surprise,
“Are you the lady who answered my
advartispmems’ ob asked, ia
wt os, wir,” say Agnes tim s { 1
for the first time that she had done a
wery foolish thing in imagining herself
eompetent for the position,
“If was struck with the basisoss-like
eonociseness of note, Miss Balfont,
and to myself suited in ob.
taining a substitate for the f+*%ful pers
won who is leaving me. But,” with a
half smile, “I hope you will pardon
me for saying that your youth is against
’
The
the down-gazing
t glides, sings the
of
the |
flush chased away the
tried to make her voice steady |
a8 she answered, but, in spite of her |
wofforts, it trembled:
“I never had any trouble with our
own servants, sir, so I thought [ mgiht
manage other people's; but 1 see my
mistake,” ii
“I must agalu ask pardon for intend.
dog my | upon you. But why,
may have you selcoted this par.
“tioular line of empl mi? Would not
the vooupation of a tescher be more
pry
Son
“5
much easier employment than that of
housckeeper, I will conduct you to
her, and see how the plan is hkely to
modest face at once attracted
invaiid’s fancy, and she was en-
gaged to take the piace on the following
week,
She fulfilled her duties satisfactorily,
and after a few months she became
Agnes’
and found a real pleasure in trying to
make her life as happy as it could be,
while enduring so much pain,
Hor death came suddenly, and was |
that at first it
thoughts out of her mind,
Then she awoke to the knowledge |
put sll other
When she broached the matter to Mr,
Duaraut, however, he would not listen
**I never thought to put trust in wo-
I have learned
to like to see you about this lonesome
old house, You are still on the sunny
side of life, and I am forty, Bat I will
try to make you happy. Do not an-
swer me now. Think of what I have |
at this time,”
Sarprised and bewildered at the sud- i
den proposition, Agnes withdrew from |
Mr. Darast's prescuce,
Was there such a thiog as trus jove
in the world?’ she questioned herself;
that is, 10 a man’s heart?
Her own sad experience taught her
to answer: **No,"
She did not love Mr. Durant, but she
was conscious of a feeling of respect
and of admiration for him. He had
not professed to love her, It would
be purely a friendly union, and was it
not the truest kind of marriage, after
all?
Thus she reasoned down her con-
scientious scruples, and at last made up
her mind to tell Mr. Darant that if he
would take her for hus wife, knowing |
that her heart had once received a blow |
which had given love its death-wound,
sud to accept friendship and respect |
instead, she would be to him a true and |
faithful companion throughout life's
journey.
Mr. Durant was pleased with her |
candor, snd after a briel delay they
were married.
The young wife proved like a ray of
sunshine in the grand old house, Every
room showed tokens of the change |
that had been inaugurated with its new |
mistress; and best of all, Agnes learned
to love her husband; not with the ro-
mantic devotion that had characterized |
the first love, that had ended so disas-
fection, which was far better caloulated
to make its object happy.
One morning, while looking over
some old-fashioned dagunerreotypes
packed away in the drawer of an eld
cabinet, Agnes came UPON AN exquis.
itely-painted miniature of a young girl.
The artist had depicted the sweet
face with a smile eurving the delicate
the pink cheeks, and
Isughing roguishly out of the eyes, blue
as the flax-flower blossom.
Agnes hastened with her new-found
treasure to the library—-her husband's
favorite haunt,
She held the pieture towards him,
“See what 1 have found! What a
shame for such a beautiful face to be
hidden away in a place which is so sel-
dom visited,”
Mr. Darant glanced ap with a pre-
occupied look, but as his eves rested
ening of his usually calm face, and with
a lowering brow, he caught it from
Agnes aad trhow it across the room.
Then, seeing by his wife's pallor that
he had startled her, he calmed himself i
by a supreme effort, and said;
“It is through your ignorance of my |
past, Agnes, that yon have given me
such a wound, The picture represents
my daughter, Grace, :
“Her very existence cost the life of
her fair young mother; and when I at
last forgave her debt, and gave her the |
warmest place leit mm my benumbed
heart, she deserted me for a stranger,
and again I was left desolate,
“She proved an iugrate, Never
mention her to me again, Agnes, I
have learned to depend upon your love
and sympathy, Do not disappoint
we.”
Agnes stood for an instant in mute
surprise, longing but not daring to
plead for forgiveness for the disearded
child of whose existence she had now
heard for the first time.
1t seemed so cruel to her fo be en
joying the beautiful home of her noble.
hearted busbana, while his daughter
was an exile from ib,
But A had the rare gift of pa
tienae, she said nothing until she
could see the way clear not to injore
the cause of the atsent one. But from
closed to her the carefully guarded se.
cret at heard, she determined to svent-
ually effect a reconsiliation,
By inquiries she learned the whole
bitter truth, Grace Durant had fallen
in love with the son of Mr, Duram's
bitter enemy. and hopeless of gaining
her father's consent to their marriage,
had yielded to the entreaties of her
young lover, and had made 8 clandes:
tine mateh with him, i
iid ’
Wey kd
A
then had left his darling to battle with
the world, abd try and wrest a living
from it for hersell sud baby boy.
Memory.
A Phenomensl
If you want to find the most uner.
phenomenal memory In|
“Very, madam, very,” I sald, grow- |
ing famt with suppressed emotion. *I |
Beautiful Naples,
Of Naples’ 405,000 population, 350,«
000 Lvs underground iu noisesome cels
of a little grandson?
eation with ber step-danghter, and sue.
ceeded 1m obtaining the child's picture.
Again she went to her husband with a
likeness; but this time of a dimpled,
dark-syed boy.
i
i
|
i
i
Amzi “mith,
tall,
You will be met by a
rlender gentleman, of pleasant |
Around jim on every
first according to Congr. ses, and next |
then roused into sudden intentness,
“Who is this, Agnes?”
answered bravely:
“It is your grandson, and name-
child, His father is dead, and tus
ing herself by giving music lessons,
and forget the past! Take your dear
ones into your heart and home,”
Mr, Darant looked at the fair young
pleader curiously.
A suspicious moisture dimmed for an
instant the brightuess of Lis eyes,
“Do you know what your intercession
will cost you-—-that is, if I accede to
your request? Agues, think well of
what you are doing, My will is made,
and it is in your favor,”
“Burn it! destroy it! it is unjost,
Here is your rightful Leir,” and Agues
pointed to the blooming childish face
with an eernest besceching gesture,
“You are a good little thing, Agnes,
I am not deceived in yon, 1 read itn
your face when I first saw you. Be it
as you say. 1 have enough for all,
Thus Agnes made peace between the
father and daughter, and when
sweet gift of a goung soul elad 1 mor-
tal guise came to her own arms a few
months later, he was received with a
1oy which was not dimmed by the feel.
ing that her own little son was an in
terioper—takiog the inheritance from
the rightful heir; and the blessing
which is promised to all “peace
makers” descended upon the happy
home, making it like a foretaste of
heaven to live within its boundaries,
ACarious African Tribs,
A more remarkable or unique race
the Masai does not exist on the
continent of Africa, In their physique,
manners and customs and religions be-
liefs they are distinct alike from the
Gralla and 8 They are the most
magnitic y modeled savages 1 have
seen, or ever read of, Beautifully
proportioned, they are characterized
by the smooth and rounded outline of
the Apollo type, rarely showing the
knotted and brawny muscles of the true
athlete, The women are very decently
They wear,
ail,
the countless bills, res -utious, eto.
on both houses since ths very earliest
days, It is a reposilo'y, not of what |
Congress has done, but of what the
of the bills regardless of
to thirty pounds of thick
iron chains, The
small kidskin garment round the shoul.
ders and breast, that being of somewhat
more ample dimensions among the mar.
ried men,
The most remarkable distinctions
characterize the various epochs in the
life history of the Masai. The boys
sud girls up to a certain age live with
their parents, and feed upon ecnrdled
milk, meat and grain, At the age of
12 with the girls, and from 12 to 14
years with the boys, thoy are sent from
the married men's kraal to one 10 which
there are only young nummarried men
and women, There they live till they
are married. At this stage the men are
warriors, and their sole oceupation is
cattle lifting abroad and amusing them-
selves at home, The young women
attend to the cattle, build the huts and
perform other uecessary household
duties, Both sexes are on the strictest
diet, Absolutely nothing but meat
and milk passes their lips. Spirits and
beer, tobacco, or vegetable food are
alike eschewed. Bo peculiar, indeed,
are they in their notions that they wil
not even eat the meat of any wild ani-
mal, Moreover, the meat and milk are
never taken together,
sts MI ISR
Newlounn diand’'s Cod Bank.
The foundation of the cod bank of
Newfoundland is of solid rock, and was
no doubt formed by volcanic action.
The formation of the bank has been the
slow, and toilsome work of ages,
Every spring, mynads of icebergs,
their lower part mixed with the coast.
bottoms of Greenland and Labrador, to
the extent of thousands of carloads,
came floating majestically through
Davis Btraits, and meeting here the
warm waters of the Gulf Stream melted
and deposited their contributions, until
those immense shoals were formed
where the cod and haddock swarm.
Tone mighty St. Lawrence has assisted
swept down In its course of over 2.000
miles, The great bank—there are seven
~—4s 600 miles long by 120 broad, but
what is called the Telegraphic Plateau,
because the Atlantic cable goes over it,
enerations the inhabitants of New.
coast have got their Jally bread or laid
up a competency from this seemingly
cupply is year by year becoming percep-
tibly less. Considering that the fish
harvest is gathered on a farm for which
no rent is asked, that there is no
expense for cultivation, and that the
mate exhaustion or deterioration of the
supplies must naturally be expected.
Nature rejoices in ilinsion. Whose
im she
takes as a child to her bosom,
Iv A woman is worth her weight in
4034. she ha bus lo drop i ut 8 New
ork restaurant to learn how very val.
able she really is
finger writes, and
Tim's
haviug writ, moves nor all your
fap gh rire brad ivioed 3
§ lide, Nor all. your tears wash ont a
¥
OI course they are carefully indexed
names and themes, but Hmith's
memory doesn’t need this crutch, The
members in preparing bills or reports
are always anxious to know if any
steps have heretolore been taken in
the same direction, and the oracle w
consult in each case is Smith, You
approach Bmath on the subject, no
matter what it 18, no matter Low long
ago, and, after pulling the front lock
of his hair for a moment, and giving
squint at the ceiling, he will re.
mark, for iustauce, “Why, yes, you'il
find a report of that in 39 of the sec-
ond 334" (meaning document 39 of the
second session of the Thirty-thrd
will go for it with
a ferret, During an
intercourse of several
him to make a
J
instinet of
daily
mistake,
Let me give an intcresting
about him, Bome five years ago he
was taken suddenly sick, and the
rouble soon sssumed the shape of a
fever and attacked his head. The
solicitons Senators insisted on daily
reports of his condition, from the quiet
little country house a few miles from
Washington, For many days, as the
disease gained on him, it seemed du-
bious for Bmith and bis eyelopaedic
brain, and correspondingly gloomy for
the public men who depended on his
ready stock of knowledge. But the
clouds broke at last, fortunately, and
be began slowly to mend, The nature
of the complaint led every one to fear
that poor Smith might have wrecked
his brain eargo during the
storm through which be passed It
was a balmy morning in Msy when
Amz began his return engagement at
the old desk, and 1 was one of the first
to try whether his brain wonld snswer
roll-eall in the good old way, So 1
asked whether there was any document
giving the dates when the different
Ntates were admitted into the Union,
He squinted at the ceiling for a few
seconds jonger than usual, but at last
he eangh! spirit of revival borne in
hrough t windows on the ble
laden air, and replied:
“Yes, it was 1574, in the Forty-
third, that a report was made from the
House Committee Territories, in
which this elligence was conveyed,
I think it was 561 of the first, ’
That was then seven years before,
and no one had asked for it. since the
day it had been dumped in with a grist
of documentary rubbish and quietly |
story
v
menial
i MOTI
in
on
heaa,
He does pot trouble himself fo in.
quire, modest gentleman that he is,
whether this gift is natural or seqaired.
He takes what the gods have sent,
without apy horn-blowwng or airs of
superiority, satisfied that he i= nselul,
aud content with the compensation
thereunto attached.
sg
Taming the Texas Seer.
“I have just bad a talk with a iady,"”
said a western geantletian to a reporter,
“She is a very well-educated lady. and
comes of one of the oldest families of
the east. When I met her she had just
returned from Europe, and was on ber
way to the west (o do some traveling
among its features of interest. Learning
that I had some slight scquaintance In
that country she engaged me in conver
sation, and we discussed at some length
the peculiar customs in vogue there,
especially among the cattiemen.
** And did you ever see any of those
dear, sweet cowboys?’ asked she,
“1 remarked that the distinguished
honor had been mine.
=
’
+
ing to the cattle?’
“Now it occurred to
cowboy ‘singing’ to an animal, although
I had never heard it called by that
name; 80, somewhat surprised by the
gravity with which the esupheism was
made, I smiled, and said 1 had.
“ei 1g must be lovely, in the middle of
it is about the
exceptions.’
“iAnd does it quiet the poor dear
“**1 beg pardon.’
**Does it really soothe their restless.
ness and prevent their wandering away
from home?’
“ +wwha-—Great Caesar!’
““Why you seemed surprised! Can it
be really possible that you have ever
been upon a cattle ranch and have never
heard the cowboys singing to their cat-
tie to keep them from becoming restiess
“With some difficulty I smiled a stall
smile, told her that | was subject to a
spasmodic catching of the breath, and
said: ‘Why, certainly, madam; but who
told you of the custom?’
“Oh! a friend of mine just returned
from New Mexico. He told me that
the first question asked of 4 cowboy was
whether he could sing or play some
musical instrument. If he could do
neither he could never obtain a
You know at about 2 o'el in the
morning the cattle get uneasy, and will
walk their flesh off (I believe they call
it) If there is not music to soothe them.
cowboys take turns, you know, and
have regular watches,
times, though some-
3 oven) Suh ot night, it,
Four the eBort o al aut the.
*
i
3%
‘iMy friend said that a fine tenor
voice was especially valced, but that the |
music of the piano, flute and zither was
algo prized, Those who could obtain
but that of an accordion or |
that made by beating on tin pans often
lost their entire herds. 1s it not a
beautiful picture? It quite reminds one |
to soothe |
the savage breast,’
“‘Madam,” sad I, ‘I am not quite
right; but I am ready to admit that if |
music hath power Lo soothe the breast |
of a Texas steer, she’ll scothe almost |
“But 18 it possible have
seen this thing done?”
“With a great effort 1
presence of mind. *It 1s,
general custom now,’ 1 said,
it was found somewhat difficu
a dozen small cowboys to
whole herd of steers, Ww they were
scattered over forty miles or 80 of
wush, especially of a dak
ight; but under the {
recently been adopte
up every night to
turning them
morning, the custom wh
allude has become common coms
mon, in fact, that it nad quite slipped
my memory, and may the Lord
mercy on my sinful soul!”
‘+1 beg pardon—1 did not
you in full.’
“‘Yes; the cowboys sit
the fence and play and ig all
It is a mistake to think they take
~a hard life is cowboys,’
wheel the plano out
and prop it up wilh a
and while one plays
and, with viol and
they make the well
in fell
Opera singers go.
Abbott and Patti and
the rest of them a :
in the innumera
How perfectly
Ww started
You nevex
retained my
indeed, a very
‘At [rst
it for half
sing @
hen
ane
i r stormy
n 3
¥
iA
6
out of
to
BO
have
quite catch
811
the
+
ALLIC wa,
a
tha
3
é
(Fy
Bs
Agony uu
whole 3
‘wild
whose calen
i
sweal,
y y
nd, ce 1
Laramie plains, along ih
oo LOPES of New Mex FOO,
hiils of the cloud-capped
knocks at the porta
1
rial
(r0i2
¥ 43
Sierras
8 of Lhe upper
rest you first hear it
3 City —a
mur of surpassing swe
every onward
grows stronger a
¥, 88
54
iN
faint,
ines: ti
of the carwheel
Wm
i serge
. bursts u
roar of melod)
hing the Texas steer!’
“Here | paused and looked |
steadily in the eye. She believed every
wo She isa good example of the
uigher culture; but somebody has been
fooling with her ab at
business,’
wall
$4358
Tr wt
si Te
frost
ita id
tut
YO
* raged
£ INES
13
Niagara Oo the cowboy
$4
socthn
i¥
er
vel
Fk.
¥ bod
ws
£3 v
soothing
c———— I —— on
Here ana There.
Husbands and ¥
experience how much ha
to their daily lives by thinking
twice betore speaking once. This, par-
| ticularly when they have a hateful sen-
tence behind their to eth, When respect
and confidence are thoroughly establish-
ed many a little suggestion and bit of
advice from one or the other is received
in the most charming way. He isan
anomalous young hasband who does not
lopping off here and there. Only a little
twig. maybe, but enough to mar the
domestic oak if the pruning knife is not
used, t isso natural to hold a wife
responsible for her husband’s toilette,
and social failings, thal these (wo
things, alone case an lmmense amount
of domestic warfare unless the opposing
forces are under a loving flag of truce,
A wife, too, can annoy her husband so
much that it takes the opera, the club,
or 4 wrestling match to make him for-
get the ties that bind them. A happy
family is really a training school, If
the members do not all msist on being
professors at the same time, the disci-
pline tells its own story, in happy faces,
good breeding and hospitality.
tt
Food and Drink.
| Mr, Edward Atkinson's estimate that
the cost of food and drink for the 55,-
wives only learn by
ppiness they
d
averages 81.67 per week, each does not
| mmelude any beverage except tea and
coffee, The nation's *‘drink” bill is
about $800,000,000 a year; or iwice as
! much as the cost of flour and meal,
{ The meliowness of old wine, it is
{ found by experiments in Germany, is
| due to an increase in the proportion of
glycerine contained in it more than to a
decrease in the proportion of tannin
| which it holds. The orthodox Church.
man says retarning missionaries declare
| that unfermented wine was never known
| in Nyna,
“Dooron! I'm worried aboul my hus-
band! Do yon think him se fur”
“To the best of my judgment, mad.
am, he is suffering from gastritis,”
“I knew it, 1 told him his trouble
i
yesterday.”
“Dip you nutioe, dear, ai the
Inst evening how grandly our daughter
Clara swept into the room?”
Husband (with a gront)—“Ob, yes,
Clara can sweep into a room, but when
it comes to sweeping out a room she's
not there,”
Yousa Frarnenty, who was dining
with the family, was onremituing in his
attentions Yo the oldest daughter,
“1 don't see thal sistor is
salt,” ventured watehful B bby,
“Never mind what your sister is oat.
ing, Bobby,” interposed the father in
alarm, *‘Littlo boys should be seen,
HO nnn” ;
“Well, she ought to eat salt,” isisted
Bobby, “eos ma told her last night
that every
ea
must be taken with a grain
street. Crime 18 80 rampant that mn
city highway robberies are of frequent
occurrence in broad daylight. The
natives feel that the world owes (hem a
living and they are going to get it, De.
fending the erimnals gives occupation
to 11,000 lawyers of the Italian school,
who work, according to a Cincinnati
Enquirer correspondent, for fees ranging
from five cents upward, Asking an
official what per cent. of the population
the bad class, his answer ime
that about eleven-tenths came
under that head,
At any rate police of Naples
assume that every moan is a thief, and
when they take a prisoner Lhe govern-
ment sets to work might and main to
convict him, and sometimes for a wd
of from a week to le Lier
allowed iit
i ie i mired,
s 48 no ball
the
! pe
en days he is pelt
to ses his friends or get
i
offender
8 lost to view as if
in Italy. Th
efore the instructing
m. Here he
LE eXAIn.na~
is worried and
't know what he
hat line of
&@
aa ir son
Ren
argu.
j BEV.
seated
onfesses 1
BCivener
*
all He
FOVErn-
t lets the
wyer, and then
iim in conducting
kes down
When t
the case solid |
RI
i
ire a cheap ia
takes a hava wilh 1!
tie case,
Until this
3 friends and relia
giightest idea of
or
ves have not
whereabouts.
s prisoner |
to convict
Lo convict,
8
4 1 altogethe, but}
which
ce
0
43
y full fiberty.
gave your
ive Case,
rele iberty,
nder surveill
me as the
the ¢
%
aAsed on
enns that
wvsiel 4 # rid arsenhs +
y ALG Lig nL ich Ul Y
8 Uj
GAN Tesiin
i, two tramps w
&
Ing aL ali
i the olher.
wWonnan.
+
and a1
v}é
American eag
or f
SDE Ui
Famous Old Maids,
zabeth
ty
va
of Eng-
ous of mo-
rule over Great
comprised the most
literary of the English-
BWA people. Her political . acumen
pu fests as
Look
at the lis
land, one of the 1
deru sovereigns,
certainly
ier
age
peaking }
was certainly put to as severe
hat of any other ruler the world ever
SAW. Maria Edgeworth was an oid
maid. It was this woman's writings
that first suggested the thought of wri-
ting similarly to Sir Walter Scott. Her
brain might well be called the mother
of the Waverly novels. Jane Porter
lived and died an old maid. The child
ren of ber busy brain were eus
of Warsaw” and ‘The Scottish
which bave moved the hearts of millions
with excitement and tears. Joanna
Baillie, poet and play writer, was “one
of the ‘m. Florence Nightingale,
most gracious lady, hervine of Inker-
mann and Balaklava hospitals, has 10
the present written ‘Miss’ before her
name, The man wh i marry her
might well crave to take the name of
Nightingale, Dora, the brave
spirit of English pest %, whose
story is asa helpful evangel, was the
bride of the world’s sorrow only. And
hen what names could the writer and
the reader add of those whom the great
world may not know, but we know. and
the little world of the village, the
church, the family know, and prize be-
{ yond all worlds,
t
.
18
rok
i
Hrefs
sn
shoul
Sister
hous
a...
A Hiarbvor in the Open Gall.
Between the mouth of the Mississippi
and Galveston, about ten or filteen
miles to the southwest of Sabine pass,
is a place in the gulf of Mexico, which
is commonly called the **Oil Ponds’ Ly
the captains of the small craft that ply
in that locality. There is no land with-
in tifteen miles, and yet such is the
effect of the oil thus cast upon the
waters by the lavish hand of nature
that even in the severest storms the sea
{in the Oil Ponds is comparatively
| smooth, and so well is this known that
| when the small vessels that trade
i between Caleasien, Grange, Sabine,
| Beaumont and Galveston fail t¢ make
i a harbor at Galveston or Sabine they
‘run off for the oil wells, jet go their
anchors and ride out the gale in safety.
The oil covers the water in a thick
| soum, and, apparently, rises from the
| not more than fifteen or eighteen feet
| below the surface, No one, we believe,
| has ever attempted to strike oll in the
{Gulf of Mexico, but it is not extrava
gant to expect that some day capital
and enterprise will succeed in securing
the ofl which is vow wasted in these
wonderful ponds and placing it on the
| mai ket for sale,
i " fe ——
Nations are adaeated throngh suffer.
ing, mankind is purified through sor
row. The power of creating ohstanles
to progress is human and partial, Owe
nipotence is with the ages.
all; it niay be