MN THOUGHT. Ie fell at night wpa a rocking world, Ax sinks through glooms of eve a falling star Bod a ached it upon time with wings vy ad And ud its flight through centuries atar. un- As fell that spirit bright on Lemnos’ Isle; As Phaeton, from Phavbus' blazing car; As from an angel's lip, a holy smile Blides like a sunbeam from a world afar; 80 on the dim earth fell thought; Like shooting-star it flashed along the brain Of one who flushed to feel the strength it brought, And shaped it for a world’s eternal gain, that shining On prophet brows the chrismal light falls ssl; They break for us through calyxes of doubt, Through leaf-like thought, Until The single golden heart of truth shines out. thought o'erfolding vine, And mold it into shape for human ken; In poem, picture, sculptured stone toshine, A holy thing blest unto sentient men. FORTUNE'S FROWNS AND SMILES. owned as much, herself, take must be very patent, indeed, be. fore Mrs, Briggs would own to it, For she was one of those high-nosed, domineering females who pretend to an almost superhuman foresight, if it were an open book, “lI never was so disappointed in a girl in my life,” said Mrs, Briggs. thought she had some grit about her, Bui, there! I might as well have an old dish-rag in my kitchen as Milton!” Meta herself, if the truth were to be told, was equally disillusionized. She had fancied that life in the country was all roses, new-mown hay and night- ingales; and when it came to getting up before daybreak, churning by the half- hour in a scrubbing kitchen fioors and baking hot-cakes for a tableful of shirt-sleeved farm hnauds, she was completely taken aback. There were no lanes wherein to linger at dusk (Mr. Briggs was a great deal too careful of his land to let any part of it run to waste), no picturesque old well-sweeps or ivy-clad ruins, . Cabbages grew in rows; onion paiches flung their perfume on the air, and directly in front of the main door there was a fleld of monster tobacco leaves, “And spar,” ef you've got any time to worms off the terbacker, instead o flowers!” Meta had Brids Cousin Briggs’, the doctor had advised country am, new mwilk and change of scene, been a shop-girl in a anwillingly consented that Mets should spend the summer there, “She mast be a poor eretur, indeed, if slie can’t earn her board and a into the bargain,” saad Mrs, Briggs, who was one of those griping, grinding taskmistresses who think of trade and profit alone, Bui Meta had not passed trinmphant- ly through the ordeal. Perhaps she had not fully regained her strength. Perbaps she had become discouraged with the endless treadmill of work which Mrs, Briggs provided for her, THOT oolor thst came and weut with flicker. ing brilliance, “And it’s my Briggs, who was in the habit of flying around the house with her head tied up in a ecoilon “that she spends a deal too much time a-fixin' up and prinkin' before the glass—white lace at ber neck every day aud a ribbon bow and white aprons of an afternoon. Checked gingham is good enough for me, and 1t ought to be for her!” At the end of the first month, Mes. Briggs told Meta, with engaging frank- ness, that she had not proved equal to the ewsergeucy. “1 guess we don't want you here no more,” said Mrs. Briggs, **Yon ain't got no more strength than a rabbit, and, apyway, there ain't mo calculation about you. You may do very well as a store-girl, but you won't never earn your bread at general housework,” Meta sighed, “Bat what am I to do?” said she, “Where am I to go?” “That's your affair,” said Mrs, Briggs. And then she went to take her bread out of the oven, John Perkins, the nephew of the old deacon who lived in the brick house on the hill, and had more money than fhe best srithmetician in Yellow Plains sou'd count, came the next day to drive Meta and her poor little trunk to the stage-station, John had seeu Meta at church, He ind stood beside her more than once at singing-school; and one night, when the cattle were obstreperous, he had come to the rescue, and helped Meta drive thera home, word that his horse was lame, and asked for the loan of Deacon Perking' roan oob to carry Meta Milton to the station, John himself! had volunteered to sot as charoteer, “G away, hey?” said John, when ridden a short distance in si- [lence “ os,” said Mota, sadly, “I am go- g away, “Didn't bike the folks?” said John, “1 tried to like them,” said Meta; “but Mrs, Briggs me. The washings were too heavy, and is gave me o pain the side to lift the “You do look rather slim,” observed is filled up; and it's very hard to get work anywhere at this time of year, The doctor said I ought to stay a year at least in the country; but Mrs, Briggs has got another girl and" Here John Perkins suddenly arrested the course of the roan-cob, and began turning him scientifically around, **Dear dear!” said Mota, **have we got into the wrong road?” “No,” said John Perkins, ‘Not as I know of, But if the Doctor said you ought to stay a year, then a year yon stay. “But where?” said Meta, “With us!” said John Perkins, ‘I've took a notion to you, Meta, The first time I ever set eyes on you, I said to myself, ‘Here's the gal for me!’ And if you'll marry me, Meta, I'll do my beat to take care of you and be a good husband to you,” “Marry you!" repeated Meta, and she looked timidly into John Perkins’ honest gray eyes, and then she added: { “Yes, Mr, Perkins, I willl” “Shall we go right to the parson’s?” said John, “1-1 suppose 80,” said Meta, “It’s the best way,” said John, “If I begin a job, I generally like to go on with it.” So they were married. Meta went back to Mr, Briggs' house, until her to his uncle, welcome, Meta, that you haven't done badly for yourself, was calculatin’ for—-" “But I was not calculating,” | Meta, indignantly. said to be his wife. with a dry chuckle, iis uncle, “Uncle,” said he, **I guess you'll have to spare me a bigger room arter this,” Deacon Perkins, a dried-up, with- | the elimpanzee tribe, looked up from | bis account-book with a snarl, which { revealed a set of ragged, yellow teeth, “A bigger room?” said he, “What | for?” i "There's atleast a dozen rooms { the house you don’t use,” eaid John, | “and they'd be all the better for being | occupied; and besides''—as if this was | ting married!” | The deacon dropped his spectacle- i ease, and as John picked it up and | handed it back to him, he added: “To Meta Milton.” | very small gas-lamps, seen through a November fog." “You've married i said he. “Yes, sir,” said John, “Wall, then,” said the deacon, “you | can take her somewhere else and sup- { port her, for 1'll never see nor speak to either one of you again as long as I live!” “Do you really mean it, uncle?” said John, “Anr I in the habit of joking?” said { Mr, Perkins, with an ugly grin, tha i made him more chimpanzee-like than ever, “If you're so very independent you can go and hang out your flag of freedom st your leisure!” This was rather hard on John, who had always been taught to regard him- self as his uncle's adopted child, But he was too proud to sue for a rich man's favor. “Just as you please, sir,” said he. “Bat won't you let me bring Meta to | see you?” “*No, I wou't!” said the deacon, | “Oh, John, I have ruined you!” said | Meta, when he came back to tell the | tale, “Ruined me, puss?” said he cheer- { fully—~"'‘not a bit of it! You've been | the making of me. It ain't good for nobody to hang on the coat-skirts of a rich man, than 1 have been for ten Mra, Briggs will let us stay few days—"' “I couldn't, poseibly!” said Mrs, Briggs, freezing visibly. *'If your good, pious uncle discountensnces yon, it ain’t for me to set myself up ag'in his judgment.” “Very well,” said John; “Farmer Drake wants a hand to help clear up the maple hills this winter—I'll engage with him, My Meta shall have a good home somewhere!” When Mrs. Briggs heard that John Perkins had rented the little one. storied cabin by the railroad, and far. nished it for his bride, she shook her nend forebodingly, “If Meta can put up with & hole like her, have you?” ’ cars, If ere for a she. But Meta was as happy as a lark, her own, And John came home fo it every night, with a face as cheerful as the dawn. : “1 wish it was a palace, puss, for your sake,” said he. *1 couldn't be happier, John, if it was,” Meta brightly answered. “And you don’t mind your Cousin Briggs passing you in the street, with. out speaking to you?” “Not in the least, if you don’t mind Descon Perkins returning your letters u ”» ‘‘He is an ill-tempered old erab,” said John, with & hearty Isugh, “And she,” merrily retorted Meta, While the oi oi. Pisins unanimously a, “He has'nt a cent of capital,” said OO DUAGBDIL. ot management and Pha she no ta I a mothers) ak : 8 her pie-orust with butter instead o drip- pin's,” said Mrs, § “Did an one ever hear of such I fon ¢ wash mv havds of them, one ” left wll his money to the Gattawooche Indian Mission,” as he always said he would. But ho was my uncle after all,”* “Very well,” said Mota, “We'll go,” All the neighborhood was there, of course, The richest man in Yellow Plains did not depart this life every day, Bat every one looked ooldly up- on the young couple as they entered, and Mrs. Briggs studiously evaded them, When the burial ceremonies were over, Mr. Briggs sidizd up to the law- yor, a fat man, with a shining bald head and a white mustache, “It's about the mortgage, Bquire Coyte,” sad he. ‘*“That one that Dea- con Perkins had on our farm. I do hope the CGattawooche Indians won't be particular about takin’ it up jest yet, because times is hard, and I ain't noways prepared, The interest is a little behind, to be sure, but—" “What have the Gattawooche In. crisply. ‘““why, they're the heirs, folks tell me,” sald Mr. Briggs, uneasily twirling his thumbs, “Not at all,” said Mr, Coyte, “The Gattawoochee Indian will was destroyed long ago; and Mr, Perkins never mado another. The heir to all the property Perkins,” Pablie opimon changed this piece of news became abroad, kins was a noble fellow, and his wife {| Meta one of the salt of the esrth. And husband in their behall, “About the morigage,” said she, ‘that Deacon Perkins had on our farm, It's over-due, aud Briggs hasn't been as regular with the interest as I could have wished; but I do hope, Meta, he {| won't be hard with us!” ! It was a bitter pill for Mrs, Briggs to swallow, but Meta did not exult over her fallen foe, “Of course he will not be hard with | you, Cousin Briggs, said she, kindly, | “Are we not relations? And now you must sit down and i wagon down for your husband to come in spend the evening.” The tears came into eyes, “I do feel sort o’ faint,” said she, “I pever slept none last night, thinkin’ what would become of us if the old | home was took away. Bat I'm all right | now, Meta, thanks to you!” And she said when she got home to | her fireside: “If ever coals of fire were heaped on a human head, Meta Perkins heaped "ema on mine this day.’ “She's a good gal, Briggs—"‘a good gal!” Mrs. Briggs’ said Farmer iA 55 oh ol Ghibraltar, Military discipline is h order of the day Never ment can you forget the You dare not produce a pencil and book till your sketching pass and countersigned, that is only given for a limited and with the proviso that yor make no drawing of fortification {as if you could omit the one character- istic of the place.) At every turn come on new batieries, great g { mortars, with their thousand black eyes, keeping waten and ward, Death's playthings everywhere, The very gardens vielding only grapeshot and other Dead Sea fruit. Beside the graceful flower vases are heaped up great pyramids of cannon balls; fixed bayonets gleam beneath the | spiked aloes; tall plumes of wave over plumed bonnets, and scarlet { blossoms resolve themselves into tar itans as first oue, then another well. i known regiment marches down with { pipes playing, for there is a field day on ; the parade ground in as picturesque & | Spot as you are Likely to find, and Span. i fards and Moors, Jews and Britons are | among the spectotors, to say nothing of { Rock scorpions, as English children | born on **Old Gib" are called. i» Doubtless, also, the Barbary apes are | looking down on us from their haunts aicriad igned any you ins and ot hard, i i i laws, They are tailiess, of course, as ing creatures, yel more precious than all their long tailed brethren, inasmuch rope. ———— Frolesstonnl Match Makers, Marriages are usually arranged by “brokers,” in Borneo, These brokers are old women who always keep themselves in a position to quote the state of the marriage market, which flucturtes. In hard times even girls of good appear. ance are comparatively a drug, In time of plenty they “rule firm.”’ The broker is ever a welcome guest where there are daughters to marry, and also in honses where the sons wish to find a suitable bride. The young are not consulted by the broker, © deals with the parents, and generally * with the mothers, Crafty as a horse dealer, she runs BT a Yariow advan men # and pecuniary, of her clientele of both sexes. So and 0 is a steady, quiet man, Such an one has brilliant prospects—has(important con. sideration) no other wite. The details being after much haggling, the young people are engaged, and the marriage broker gets her commission both from the parents of the bride. groom and those of the bride elect, Hopine, Ther have a drink in Towa called ‘ "itis smd to represent beer #0 closely that even an is not & prohibitory : that violation of Courage. A ————— ‘“Thirteen and seven are twenty; and nine—oh, dear me! I wonder what that Just like some one crying.” Miss Comfort Walker laid down the pen wherewith she was industriously ad- ding up her household scecounts, and, metaphorically speaking jricked up her Cars, “*1L is some one crying!’ she said to herself, ‘Oh, dear, dear! w! it a world of tears and tribulation this i.!" Miss Walker had been le.t penniless and unprotected at the are of twenty, but she was not one of the “drooping ivy” kind that takes to necdlework and tubercles on the lungs. 5) Miss Com- fort went boldly ahead, opened a first class boarding house and made money. This was the history of the brisk little woman mn & brown debege dress and cherry ribbons at her neck, who bustled down stairs to see what could be the meaning of the vague, indefinite sob- { bing sound which now became audible. { “Oh, it’s you, is it?” said Miss Com- | fort Walker, as she perceived Ellen | O'Brien, the washerwoman, in the base- ment hall, fort.” whimpered poor Ellen, **And what’s the matter?” { **It’s me bill up stairs, Miss Comfort | =the boarder in the second-story front, | wid the gay goold shirt studs an’ the | green and yellow stones in his sleeve buttons! Nine dollars and siventy cents, Miss Comfort —six weeks’ washing and ironing—and now, when I makes bould to ax him would he be pleased to pay me, he tells me it { And whin 1 tells him how sore 1 needs it» { says I shan’t have it at all, | knitted brows and troubled black eyes. ‘Have you got your bill with you, {| Ellen? said she, after a moment's hesi- { tation. “Jimmy wrote it proper,” faltered all nate and producing a out, Ellen, her pocket. “rive it to me.” said Miss Comfort Walker, ‘“*And come here this evening al 8 o'clock, and you shall have your money, She went slowly up stairs with the little piece of paper in her hand, “It's a shame.” sald Miss Comfort. Leotard Carlvon was Miss Comfort Walker's best boarder, with the single exception that, up Lo the present mo- ment, his twenty-five dollars.a week had been in futuro, Now, it 80 chanced that gne reason for her reposing so much confidence in | Mr. Leotard Carlyon, the boarder, was that he was the nephew and heir appa- rent of Caleb Carylon, the rich banker { from whom she rented her brown-stone { house, al the trifling consideration of | three thonzand dollars per annum. bravely up to Mr, Carly t the door he called out. *“*Oh, it’ we tapped a & ty advanced valiantly witl hand to where Leotard angmdly amid a heap 13 i & newspaper in bi yi 3 ii Carivon 1 settle Gs r she it, Mr. ® very woman peads it haudsome black brows darkened, ‘*She has been to you with her story has snaried he, ‘Na, | can’t settle it ! And I woulmn’t if I could!” So Miss Comfort tied on alittle brown veivet bat she had trimmed with scar let poppies and brown autumn leaves, and set out bravely for the Mount Orient Bank. The clerks stared at her a little curi- ously as she was shown into the presi- dent's room atl the back, where Mr. Cariyon sat, straight and upright, with blue eyes like a falcon and hair slightly sprinkled with gray. He elevated his brows at the sight of | Miss Comfort Walker. Ana she told the story of Ellen O’Brien @nd her | Wrongs, “May I ask. Miss Walker, why you | interest yourself so markedly in this affair?” the banker asked with a cold, weatured calm that contrasted strange- ly with tre little woman's heat and flurry. “*Because I think no man has a right to cheat a poor woman out of her hard- | earned money.’ she 7" er,” observed her landlord. { case, Mr Carlyon.” retorted Miss Com. fort, secretly marvelling at her own | stately banker, “Pertaps he is owing something to *“Yes, sir. be is,” Miss Comfort made an answer, “But it isn’t that I came about. Iam quite able to attend to my own financml debts, even to lose a lit. poor woman is friendiess and alone." Mr, Carlyon glanced at his wateh, Miss Comfort turned toward the door, “I am sorry that my time 8 no longer at my own disposal,’’ said he courteous- iy. And Miss Comfort went away almost erying. “Now I've made an enemy of him, as well as Mr. Leotard, and haven't done the least good in the world," she thought, “And he will let the house to some one go in the spring, and-—and ~but, after all, I am not sorry that I did jy best, Poor, Ellen! What shall I say to her w she comes at eight o'clock?” jut that evening just as Miss Com- fort was beginning again at her pile of account books, a ring came to the door, and Mr, Carlyon, the banker was shown IB. Min Comfort rose up, confused u . “Miss Walker, pray don’t let me dis- turb you," said the banker. *‘lI have only in for a little social call. You showed yourself to-day in a differ ent light from any in which you have YohA un?” demanded poor Miss Com- almost h y w was, as she poured the decoction of fra- | grant Young Hyson into her great grandmother’s china cup, decorated with butterflies and oblong scrolls of ght aud violet! And how she kept won- dering all the while bow in the world Mr, Carylon, the great banker, could take such interest in ber homely hum- drum little affairs, heart in his complicated business trans. actions, **It is not true,” said Mr. Leotard. “My uncle would never make such a fool of himself at his age. Why, he’s 50 if he's a day!”’ “Only 44,” said Mrs. Leigh Creswick, with malicious delight, “But of course it must be a great mortification to you, Mr. Leotard, who have always been looked upon as his heir. And to think, too, he is going to marry that queer little old woman who keeps the board- i ing-house, For itis true! As true as | taxes! at ———g at his moustache, circumstances are woven together into | life’s web, he thought. If he haa paid that whinning washerwoman’s bill she { would bave not comfided her woes to | Miss Comfort Walker; and Miss Com- | fort Walker would not have gone to his | uncle; and his uncle wouldn't haye | fallen in love with Miss Comfort’s rosy i cheeks and bonnet neither, and he would still have been the rich banker’s | heir apparent, He wished he had paid the | woman's billl washer- EE, -- res Courting by Firelight, aivine +3 giving 16 love-making Uncle Davy was some advice in their fairs, and one of them asked him the young people did when he | sparking, ‘‘Them was boys.” he said in reply, We didn’t have no gas, nor no kero- sene, nor no new fangled notions, and we done our sparkin’® by a plain tallow dip : but most frequently just by the fire ght, Fire | $s warmin’, boys and flickers just enough to make a girls eyes shine and the peach blos- som glow in her cheeks, Its miglity oft and purty, too and kinder reaches out and mels two hearts 1 way noue of your gaslight knows any thing about. times the fire shined ttie powerful in places, and the boys af. how Was times times,’ great f pry great } orbit together 11 SOme up a i young man would git up, wit ful of ashes on it. Then he would cuddle up to the girl in the shadows and she would cuddle some too, and didn’t seem like thers any else in the whole big round earth to be wished for. Purty soon the fire would git obstreperous again, and little lames would twinkle in and out, as if they wanted to see what was going on, : hin’ and wink- fq ton Was ¥ ne in rawied oul sig b FIVE SAS sR on f waltin® Ir Walon 8 Old ¥y Jump ups places, there was a # house an we apg awkwar store i% blossoms i young fellow blushed ib and tight Doots ; and when the COM n they sal by their was ont sms ———— Cold Cream, cioths winler own fire $F a" of a job, aa f +} ’ AHL WIE RSLCH Some humorist could base a good story on the remark of a fun<oving young wife whom I overheard at the | toilet goods counter of a leading estab i lishment, “ Stop a second,” she said to ber fe. male companion. “1 want to buy a pot of cold cream.” “I didn’t know you ever used fr. said the other, “Nomore did I, until I got the rol ler skating craze. You'll never guess the strange effect the exercise had on me. Adolph attempted to Kiss me in | the dark t'other evening, and do you believe it, he missed wy lips three times in succession.’’ “What on earth was the reason that ** “listen to me telling you. The! motion of skating--for 1 had spent the | afternoon at the rink—had so affected all my nerves and muscles, I suppose, that they went yank, yank, first one | half of me and the other, in sympathy | | with the action of the feet in alterna. {tion of skating. My mouth wasn’t {excepted, It went so and so’-—and | | here she drew up her pretty lips, first | awry to one side and then to the other | ‘in a manner that upset nis aim, I | iguess some oold cream vould | | restore quietude,”’ Socmbilty. ¥ $4 Adin of Sociability is the best corrective of t hat serious and prolonged absorption is business or thought or cares which in detrimental to many of our busy people. The rest taken in soltitude, after working hours are over, permits the mind to still pursue one beaten track. The easy chair and blazing fire may be Suipting So the weary toiler, but they do not force his thought into other channels ar compel him to lay aside the train of ideas that has for long hours been working his brain, Soci. ety, on the contrary, forbids such un- wholesome indulgence, She invists upon a total change of mind and man ner during her short reign. She insists upon vivacity, variety, imagmation- if possible, wit and humor, or at least a cheerful At Bt. Berunrd. Few conditions of life ean be more dreary than that of the fathers of Saint Bernard, A pitiless winter of eight months in the year, and the scene that stretches around their abode very eon. fined, having iittle of the grandeur of most Alpine views in so elevated 2 site, The mountains, constantly covered with snow, rise near the convent: not a seen; there are two or three small lakes not far from the walls, which are cov- ered with ice nearly the whole year, The monotony of their life is certainly broken by the incessant arrival of visi- tors of all nations, and this scarcely clement weather, They indulge at times in a relaxation from the strictness of the hospice; music 18 introduced, and when the monastery bas possessed a large party, with several ladies, with. in its walls, a kind of ball has actually do terror. The community of St. Bernard not hve beneath a system of maceration. The wine daily dealt out to monk sald, was not copi- ous, being confined to a bottle, that was to serve during the two meals of dinner and supper; but if any of them are ailing iditional quan- ty is allowed, Their manner of life is ess luxurious than in many of the mo- nasteries of the so and east, their repast being extremely simple; though most travelers who have spent a day or night beneath their roof found the ta well of Or tnwell an a ti aie served, per on the board, 0ICe tf 4 Wd Sup ’ 4 b 2 or aj and often a bottle o % * The Muscat and old wine from tl 8 ke pt there, with hi other wile, it table of the elderly and agr all iis POWELE, of i lea visitors comfortable and at eale maxe t hear ii © g take their lodging for the: mmunity do not accept The co compense, but there isa poor box church into which the donations of up ¥ Aid Yogaiy their | teeler mode of pitality, There is no daring or self devotion of whick the guides are not capable, tempest, or falling avalan storm deters from advancing the track of their faithful and sagas y are summoned for remunerating ches, o 7 4} wiria : bewildered traveler, s monastery, and y reside there duran They are hardy peasants and valleys, the nearest on frontier, who leave their co familles during the inclement season to their services to the monastery, it might be thought the gratuity for such services could not well be too large, but it does not exceed $20 for the season to each guide. They are well maintained, of course, in the convent, and hold themselves in readiness to sally out at a moment’s call, by night or day. The avalauche often covers so deeply the victims that the sagacity even of the dogs is ineffectual; the depth be. neath baffles their scent. It is rather from beneath the snowstorm than the avalanche that the victims are rescued; *ig give the teeth of the sagacious animals, aided by the poles of the guides, they are placed on these poles crossways, which serve as a temporary bier, and borne If life still re- mains, however faintly, the instant remedies resorted to are generally suc- it is extinct, the perished traveler is borne to the morgue, and placed in an attitude that suils the hundreds who have already ended their wanderings in the same gloomy place of rest. i Long Life, “Longevity has increased within half a century from the average of thirty three years to that of forty-four,” said a scientist. ‘The methods of pro- longing life have increased and the sys. hus patient, ‘there is no reason why you should ever die, if you follow instruc- tions and take the medicine given,’ Then mn it is asserted by some that people living in the cities are not as long lived as those residing in the coun try. That is only true by reason of the fact that in cities people in a general way dissipate more than in the country and wear life out. But that portion who lead rafula lives live just as long as those in rural districts living the same way. Then the inference natu. rally is that it is not the place, climate considered, but the people themselves who prolong or shorten their existence,” AI —— Hines, SL a —— Get down to a realization on Get out from
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers