JUDGE NOT. The Bible strictly bids you Beware to criticize The sins and faults of others As seen by mortal eyes, You know uot what temptation Was in the sinner's way-— W hat wiles and lures of Satan Had caused his feet to stray. Before you pass stern judgment Upon a fellow man, *T'would be more wise and proper Your inner self to scan, And see if there déep hidden Enough you cannot find Of evil inclinations To oceupy your mind. But should you find it needful To note a neighbor's sin, Don't flaunt it to the milion But keep it still within And judge him just as kindl As you in mercy Can, And ax yon'd have him sentence you Judge thou thy fellow-man, So friend of caustic language, J ast pause a moment now; Lay by your stern demeanor, Smooth out your rumpled brow; Aud, ere you pass your judgment, Please just review the case, And see how you'd have acted Had you been in his place, EAT RARER A FIBST LOYE LETTER. 1t was a warm day in was in successive layers, superposed, topped carts of the detachment were clumped together in a eircle. On three sides, the level, grev-greeu plain, brok- f occasional clump of sage-brush or of prickly pear, stretched as far as one eccnld see, On the fourth side was a low, apparently insignificant, but wholly i upenetrable African thicket of indefi- 1:1e extent. Trackless, tangled, arid, i: was fit only to be the lurking place of tigers and snakes, or Zulus, esting question. in the little camp were thinking of it. Captain Philip Houghton, in his par- tieniar tent had ceased thinking of it, There were many rapid transitions in few extremes more starting than Picca- dilly and Zululand. captain's somewhat inactive mind was with this reflection, Itdid not particu. larly surprise, much less exeite him, this change. The young stoic of Bel- fects to take—about the same interest in such changes that he does in those bores. However, there was uncom- monly little affection in Captain Phil's, He had no reason whatever to regret leaving Piccadilly. genson: and at such times St. James’ gireet was a desert hardly more fre. quented, and infinitely lees amusing, than South Africa, The only people you saw at the clubs were men yoa wonld avoid, even in South Africa. The regular round of country visits had begun; but as there was one person meet snd she was, at the same time, one whom it was very important he should not meet—in brief, he did not muoh regret the loss of his various weeks for the shires, As for shooting, game than either, think so,” he thought, lazily, in ap- plause of his own epigram. sre nothing to it.” The captain was ing, and he now smiled again, sweetly, position in which he found himself, he had doubled upon the sand, The shawl was in frout of a tent; and the tent was in a sort of arenas, surrounded rear and open ends facing inside some of them still filled with stores, others serving as a temporary shelter. Close outside, and around them all, was a rampart of wattled underbrush. Be- tween each two was thrust a rifle; the eujoyment of a short clay pipe yards, was a circlet of pacing sentries, who marched as if they were trying to pretend it was an unusually warm re- mending officer liked style, mn South Africa or elsewhere. They were fond ot their commanding officer, Inside as a'n, at the shady ehd of the arens (while there was a shady end) a pumber of long hormed, gaunt cattle were picketed; near them, a few remain. horses of the command. iehind the captain, in the interior of the tent, stood the captain's servant, engaged in polishing the tops of the captain's boots, This he did with much attention and solicttude. He knew, with all the rest of the little com- mand —with the co , the Heuten- ants aud buglers, and almost the poor, jaded horses themselves—that the cap- tain and his company were in a nasty meses. And in company with the rest of them, he sometimes took tne liberty of wondering how they were fo get out of it; that is, supposing they were to got out of it, Captain Haughton, however, had got away beyond that question, It was an idle habit of his to give up problems too difficult for immediate solution, Besides, his orders left him positively po option, He was to repair to a cer- tain position, and hold it until the main bedy eame up, keeping the Zulus in check. It had been supposed that the Zulus to be kept in cheek numbered only & thousand or go; but the orders jied equaliy as well to the checking of any amount of them, As his servant gave the last careful rub to the upper rim of his boots, the eaptain was In fact pot at all of the Zulus, but of the last ball he had gove to in London. He remembered particularly the heart of the conserva. . The very scents and dead sweet- pese of the place seemed to be still iu his nostrils, He could see it now; the i oe ! . — gleam of diamonds against the shiny background of green leaves, “Like the eyes of snakes in a Zulu thicket,” thought the captain, ‘only not so frank in their malice,” he added, gloomily, Haughton was a heavy, straightforward fellow by nature; and perhaps his attempts at cynicism were clumsy. It was hotter than ever, and there was a drowsy noise of insects in the air, '‘he captain's servant came forward, just then, with the captain's boots, He hesitated a moment, and looked at his master, the boote in one hand, He was uneasy; he had rarely seen Captain Philip #0 quiet, ““Any orders, sur?” touching bis hat “Fo--or, stop—yes,” said the cap- tain. ‘‘Ask private Fairlie to come to me,” Saying which, back of speaking, drew an tobacco-pouch from his pocket rolled a cigarette, As he looked at the tobacco-pouch, he became conscious of a tingling sensation in the bridge of his nose, which, having been very much sunburned, had begun to peel. This H , and was a favorite trinket of Oat of it, it had been his custom their own white fingers, “I am a fool,” he more emphasis than the occasion seemed to require, It was perfectly natural that bis sunburned nose should tingle, Lighting hus cigarette, he puffed a made, and the tobacco escaped from a seam at the side, Before he had time to roll another, a stout blue-eyed countryman in the garb of a soldier stood before him; and the captain be- had saluted him, snd was looking at him with an expression of unmistakable affection in his simple countenance, “Private Fairlie?” “Yes, your honor,” said Fairhe, with another salute, | “*You are the man whose horse was | S000 terday?” “Oh, your honor—" began Fairlie, most undoubted blubber, “There, there!” sald the captain, *‘anough of that. You were nearly senseless when I picked you up, and yon said something about Kate, If 1 mis- during our ridge. Now will you over. look my curiosity, but I should really like very much to know: “Who is Kate?” “Kate, your honor? Why, Kate Kate? I don't mind telling your honor —she-your honor knows, she lives near father's farm—{arm-—and she said she wouldn't then, your honor—but she said as how she'd have me if so be as 1 comes back FE 4 honor, when I got under that there horse, sir, it came kind of natural-like “*Private Fairlie, you're a fool.” “Yes, your honor,” The conver:ation ended, as it with a salate., The had captain which caused the upper part of that organ to tingle as before, Fairlie, baving no handkerchief, seraped the boot, The heat was really terrifie, and both men were dazzled with the glare of the white tent. There was a smell the camp was so still that the oattie could: be heard striking the earth at the opposite end of the arena, The captain rose and There was a double intently watching the low edge of bush that rimmed the plain. There was nothing to sbow that the bush was occupied. He returned to Fairlie, “Private Fairlie, do you suppose Kate would care it you lost your pre- cious skin?” The captain spoke grufily, Fairlie stared at bim stupidly, At first be seemed disposed to tears again, Finally he grinned. “Private Fairlie,” said the captain, don at the general headquarters, You | 1ll take my horse, and start at dusk, He will carry you over the sixty miles | before dawn, Of course, you must es- cape unseen, There is no moon, and at headquarters before daybreak, You will deliver the dispatches to Colonel Haddon himself. It is a chanoe if you etter asking for a furlough for yoursel!, When you have got it, you will return to England, and take a letter I shall give you to the person to whom it is addressed, Mind, you must insist on putting it into her own hands,” Fairlie saluted, “‘When you have done this, you will advise you to stay there. I will give you money to purchase your discharge, You anderstand?” Private Fairlie was a Seapid man, but after some moments’ hes have the honor to be, Your most obe. dient sesvaut, Pair Havarron, Capiain, Lieutenant Covoxsrn Havpox, CO. B.” The second was longer and has never been printed. “20 Mss Alice Manners, Aze-edge Moor, Derbyshire, Eng. *'I love you Alice, and have always loved you, I have sometimes thought you knew it. If you did not know it, I write to tell you; if you did, to forgive you, “O my darling! you will pardon my | telling you this now, will you not? You have given me no right to send you a | love letter, dearest; but this is one, yet, | do not be angry until you have read it | all, | you love me now, and now only; aud | that I would kiss you if you were here. | My love—darling, do not letter down, I wanted to tell you that I loved you—how much you will never know; bat you might have learned from others that I loved you, and I wanted to tell yon myself before 1 died. “I am here at an outpost in Africa, with half a company. The orders are to hold our camp at all hazard, and we shall certainly be attacked before dawn, If I thought there wax any hope of our escaping I should not write to you thus; but you will pardon me, dear, for we cannot retreat, and there is no chance of defense or reinforcement. Indeed there ia not, “My men all know it, too; but they are very quiet, They are all brave fel lows, and I think they like me, Per- haps it is wrong in me to send oue of them away to carry this letter to you; but y is a Derbyshire man, and was oryiug to-day over his sweetheart, and I could not help it, I wanted him to get home to her; and one less to makes little difference. you to help him when he land. *1 hope that you are very happy. You must forgive me You will not think it wrong for me 80 " ia Fii 4] be killed here I should like gets to Eo ir telling you. Tv Haveuros.” ® Pai * ® * ¥ It was some moots & this letter that the guests at Carys- bridge Hall, in Derbyshire, ware await. ing dinner, It is a nuisance, walling for dinner; partienlarly when you are standing befors the fire, as was Major Brandyball, supporting a portly per- son in patent leather pumps a trifle small, Dinger was a formal affair at Carysbridge. There were many guests for the pheasant shooting and Sir John was entering largely mu honor of his young wife, But a man bad come just before dinner, and had insisted on see. ing Lady Cary personally; and she had now been gone nearly half au hour. “I wonder who i: cau be?" said the Countess Dowager to Brandyball, The Countess liked to know everything; that is, everything about ber friends, “The servaot said the man scemed W be a soldier,” “1 thiuk, "™ said the Major, *““I think Lady Cary used to have some friends in the army-—when she was Miss Man. ners,’ Farther conversation was checked by Lisdy Cary’s return. She was a beauti- ful womaa, Sir John's wife, and never looked better than on that 0 The Major noticed held crumpled in one hand; and ber had given her a het glat must have been gone over hall an hour, “Forgive me for keeping you all so long,” she said, with her sweet smile. “Lord Arthur, will you take the Connt- ess Dowager in to dinner --—- A Biunder In Giving ianers a sovis dt aS th a letter haste Su al she L ned COLoT, @ The same generous creates the dinner-give: him blunder in the manne dinner-giving. Expense, of cou imp often to se, can’t be avoided; yet, where this is un- necessarily lavished upon an over pro- fusion of dishes, the policy is not to be commenced; and this is true whether the party be a large or a small one. It is all very proper for ihe host to have a well.rparked sufficiency, for to have less would be to broadly insuit those whom he has mvited to hus table. But to fol. low up course after course, each one more attractive than ita predecessors, and all too tempting be resisted, not the plan to be adopted if he desires $a 8 dinner-giver. And the reason is plain. A guest may owe Lis presence nok to any particular friendship the host may have for him, but to a certain qualifica tion he may possess—wit, perbaps, ot general conversational powers, or other attribute fitting him for such an occas sion. Now these may be entirely upset by over-induigénce either in sating or rinking, or, at least, they may be so clogged. and smothered under the load as to show nothing deserving the invi- tation they had caused their possessor to obtain, It may be smd that dipers should know when to stop, uniess they are beasty and not men, There may be force in this proposition, yet one may be lured beyond the bounds of prudence by yet & man not be a beast either. A “Yes, your honor.” *(ivod, my man. You ean go.” nud turned away, pardon, sir,” strode off to his mess. Meantime the captain, it being an ‘hour before sunset, closed the curtain of his tent and wrote two letters, The first was brief, and hes been printed in army re atd fu the newspapers as the last authentic report from his com- mand: ‘ “Oavr Densyamue, May 20, 1879, Sir: I have the honor to n lazge force of Zulus in front, at over 4,000, for with earnestness, and yet have no further capacity to agcommodate. The his guests be an object with him, —-—— Fiah viet, Sir Henry Thompson, the eminent Eoglish physician, declares that there is no foundation whatever, for the common notion that a fish diet tends especially to feed the brain. Never theless, recommends fish for brain. workers, because it contains in smaller proportions than meat those materials which, taken abundantly, demand much physical labor for their complete consumption, and which, without this, produce an unhealthy body and a slug. gish brain. That is, fish is particularly suitable for persons who are unable to | take much exercise = hero Cheap Living of Club Men, | A veteran club man in New York says: ‘‘Members of fashionable clubs are often poor as church mice, and | about as iriesponsible, They are either | have been ntroduced by good men as | excellent {~llows with plenty of money, { Of course { 1e committee on | cannot say to such a man: “You may | be a good fellow, my boy, an! all that, but how much i8 your bank account, and, by the way, do you pay y ur bills? The committee must to a certainextent | take things for granted. | himself like one while in the ciub rooms that is all that can be expected of him, lit Some away goes their money like a puff of smoke, They are to be pitied. Then there is a class that ‘cheap swells,” who have little or no certain income, but who live on the re- putation of their clubs, A man may go to a storekeeper and buy a lot of things and say: Send them to me at the U Club.’ The shopkee 1s the Nion pel does od 8 bill, waste 6 RRS ; } ‘3 erward send inn wi leposite the o saving. lear an honest ciud of frends could nd enjoy himself on $1, 3 jut the temptations to run ACC with tradesmen and ol very great, and the men do it not with. standing the constant danger of getting nto the newspapers, 1 Know : man, popular among | fell by his tailor no ard friends give then custom. Thus you see he is simply a perambulating advertisement.’’ ——— ircle 200 a up BTR 18 oue cia who o 1:8 1% clothed ig It 1 » ¥ 4 er Wi y get Lis flabies now in Style, —————— $ OF 3 “a said “The fashion it year undergoes a decided change, a jeweler in Broadway to “These changes first take ris. and after a few montlh in jewelry abo + t & popular style in jewelry mnabile in great ay. At { yi PN 5 most (ash worn, not noderate dis the ladies nerally wear a small dia- together. The effect ia blending is beautl- Of course, the ruby, comes {iamond in favor. It will never grow 8 in populanty immense sized dia nds are considered tO Wear, i the small Pearls apphires and emeralds more “ry who wi er vulgar “4 thie v snes have the run. ale Worn usual. In hi times, op tu Mie Dus but the diately after 16 Far, 0 ‘ taste chauged of late years, and sidered beautiful and sty- for ladies PRE has other Zens are con the lace pins are of exquisite design, and have; ded in them diamends, pearis and gems, The most popular designs are those of birds. flowers, crescents and spiders. In bracelets those made of links and joints set with various kinds of stones have superseded the old style of bands. “The chatelaine, once so universally used, has given place to a short chain, with a ball, and frequently a vinaigretie, as a pendant. The pendants are very stylish and exquisitely wrought. by ayn $455 ge the hand have not entirely ceased to be fashionable, but they are no longer the rage, as they were some years ago, The The engagement bracelet, with a lock attached, is still sold fer that purpose, They are gradually going out, and the plain wedding ring is taking its old place again, The sudden changes of style in jewelry frequently cause a loss to the jeweler by having an unsalable stock on hand." ——— os Coloring Pipes. SS “Fine pipes are going out of fashion.” The speaker was an elderly German, in whose countenance beer and benevo jenee were equally blended. The place was & room in a tenement house that reeked with tobacco. ‘*‘Years ago 1 had more business than I could attend to. Nowadays I have to call from | stare to store to get enough jobs to keep me alive. I color about twenty articles a week, meerschauins, cigar holders, French clays, Ulgarette holl- ers, and fancy goods. The last named | are chi | like. They are made from meer | schaum, clay, ivory, boue, and celiu- They all take color, more or less, if you know how, you can pro- Here is a [t comes | duce very handsome effects. | horse's head, for instance, | pow the head is almost brown-black, | and the mane is a rich chestnut. iis it done ? By tobacco smoke, but al | most any other smoke would do as well, | Most people think pipes are colored by | the ofl. But they are not in the least, | It is the smoke that does all the work, | Just look at the fingers of a cigarette smoker, They are sometimes com | pletely bronzed, IT When I get an article to be colored | 1 first clean it carefully, and then pol- | ish it with chamois or fine flannel. 1 | then suspend it by a wire or thread in a box that’s full of tobacco smoke. 1f you put it near the byrsing tobacco it's apt to become gray or gn { it too far away it gets waxy. t from two to five inches over the bowl. That's a good smoke-box there. It's oul} A lirik box. with a small bole in the top in the side. running through the side. I then hang | things to be colored, fill the pipe, light { it, and draw on it with the rubber-tube | which I put on the stem, In half a minute the box 1s full of smoke, It | goes out of the hole very slowly and deposits its coloring matter as it moves. Four or five whiffs will make enough | smoke for half an hour, The best to- | baceos for the work are the cheap, wet | ones. Navy plug and niggerhead are my favorites, as they make a thick wet smoke which colors rapidly. What's the charge ? up, according to the size of an article, | I've received as high as $25 fora large | pipe. Wain — mt A Mp Tricks of Tramps. | A tramp epidemic of a new order has | brokon out in the Western Addition, a The fashion the nor yet dod cious daylight burglaries, of those fellows 1s not method of the country, whining, balf-starved-to-death which 1s the plan of only the non-in- genious beggar. $ the bell rings, dnd the lady of the ia informed that a toi the ge, Here SaInbDiel ] house gentle speak er, “Is he a peddier?”’ “No mam, he has not ¢ nicely dressed, and does no beggar.’ The lady has spee in the hall, He is ver 10t disturbed her, her wvalual time, ¥ h will ith U y polite, hi and i Dut HAR up HUE f sob) his littleciu g 4 i3 i Cis {1 dear. y sini fae iat house 10 ie a "his is the most suc ¥5 vonsf il do and the bution demand exceeds dashi " and Vivacious n a collect. low who was once [ am out do book-keeper on our street, Y our i knows Worked in a store adjoining Now hb vie Jones, Williams, Jackson, $2 and You would save a long you would only act as your almoner, and let me put for a conple of rs.” { guile abo fiusban p friend Smith's, ere eyes ae if husband's th dows The: STOR lanthropist’s bod wit of ten the Smith's name of benefaction made an swindles, “Who ACTOSS ah yes, goods on ain, ~~ wid eis oozes from every pore wt tes 25h 133 4 ’ » 1 i8 UA de uly enterad lives 11 that the Way, mam 7 What is his busine Kearny street, and the collector ACTORS Thompson. about Thompson now, hu Smith. Hereis hist m$ forth 0 Jal gave h Surely the wife of his son can do no less, | not to be outdone b) her two doliars, ter. In this man: the entire block, an of the names swindle compiete, | step that costs, because h each person writing their names his list. He wes na the rascal works genu [Ie1e88 on jist makes the is only the rst € insists upon i143 LALA upon EE ——. Finding Burea Money. Miguel del Munte, a Mexican noble- | man under the reign of Emperor | Maximilian, who fled for his life to Vermont at the time of the downfall of the Mexican Empire, has just be- come 8 rich man agsin through the gratitude of a Vermont hunter whom he befriended eighteen years ago. Del Munte was one of Maximilian's most ardent friends, and the Liberal Minister of War sent spies after him, wheu be fled from Mexico to escape Maximilian's fate. Del Munte arrived safely in Ver- mount, and discovering that his enemies | were after him, secreted Limsell in the | northern part of the Green Mountains; but he was tracked and followed, and would have been killed by the Mexi- ean emissaries but for the cunning of George Dadley, a Vermont hunter, who kept Del Muunte hidden in caves and hollow trees, chacgiog the hiding- place as often as nepessaiy and carry- ing the food to him every day for three months, until the Mexicans gave up the chase, Del Munte then disposad of his jewels, and from this aad various other surces succeeded in raising 87,000, which he left in Dudley's cabin as a gift. He went away before the huntes discovered how magnanimously his sorvices fad been rewarded. Del Mante and Dudley did not meet again until last Fall, when they revisited the | soenes of the Mexioan's Vermont ad. | ventures al the same time They were | overjoyed at seemg each other, and since both were in abject poverty, they | were still more happy st finding » large | sum of gold buried in one of the caves where Del Munts had been hid, Though the discovery was Dudley's he {osisted that half of the money. Tuis money, which 1s probably a partol the treasure that is said to have been ndden in Vermont about a century ago, and the search for removed from the cave and 16 Eogland for modern ooiu, | was quietl | excha and the two men are now here ting for an extensive oattie ranch, in they propose investing it. —— - ‘Base natures joy to see hard hap hap. * esr Training Beet, After bees are once located mm suita- | ble hives, very little expense is required | to keep them in good condition. Hives, | if possible, should be placed on the | south side of buildings, or a close board | fence facing southeast or west, If they | are gituated so as to be under the shade | of trees, and thus protected from the rays of the sun during the heat of the day, it will be best; the hives should be | set three feet apart and made to stand | perfectly level. Beginners in bee raising should re- member that bees always mark the loa- | tion of their hives, and if the latter are | removed in the working season the | result 1s, that all the bees that go forth | are lost, therefore it is necessary 0 | place the stocks early in the spring he- | fore they have marked the situation of the stands, and not change them after the Lees have commenced their labors, A swarm of bees contains one queen, | thousands of workers, and, in the sum- mer season, a limited number of drones, The queen is the only fully developed female in the swarm, and usually lives from four 1 x The queen has a sting, yet may | led with impu with a rival | r n combat ise iL. $= in queen she will no The working than the queer the labor of the swarm; it $1 Pr Pa i ut little infer + alia » male bee, shoul be permitted to rear a these not deal of § not number of produ takes a great 3 them idleness everal SWarin, ward, 1 perfectly understood, ant that the bee keeper acquainted with the bes he Oi receive the grealest am be | wl, wt shes them f from bees . fy they mu ind | best article for the purpose, The sources fr which bees collect honey are vanou Almost every flower, tree, shrub and vibe in id, forest or gard yields honey, anc in the South. the home of the bee, a pro- fusion of wild flowers afford a rich har vest When we take into consideration the fact that bees will go seven miles to collect it easy 1 i that a number } 1e0ee Any io ved in water is Lhe oi 3 ae \ . more material, it is understan swarms will i i almost Dae Keep «§ wy ® # sox Vil AL ai ry proftatie al tan For TEL esnecinll 100 10T WolRel, i } v of the fhe famed owl Park, New York, Las winter, In opposil to the tufied species he hoots by day, never by night. During the past season he has wintered in the bottom lands of cast ern nd western Keatucky along the Mississippi. Here are large under water They are oul ye natives i Mississippi, bayous, All are high Lo wh a pic aan Missouri E of land usualy N id UNYECi a Areas during the up chutes, so called by t CAlISS, AS AIS j they create islands and through these bottom lands ridges, made up of siit, or alluvia de posit, which run north and south, On these ridges and along the chutes, bayous, snd sometimes the river's edge, canes grow iu great profusion These csnes have long, slender leaves, like the willow, and are green all winter. The cane areas here and elsewhere sre of vast extent and form great roosts for robins and about one hundred species of small birds which stop here on their migrations south, As the sun sets some winter afternoon any one who will take the trouble to row across the river from Cairo can see tens of thousands of robins and other species descending on the canes to roost, All day the woods resound with the hoots of the barred owl sitting in some tree. Often have I stopped a Kentack- wan on horseback, borrowed his revol- ver, and practised upon the big heads and staring eyes among the dead lesves of the cotton-woods ana pecans. When disturbed the owl lazily flaps his wings and alights on the next tree. When the robins homeward fly he becomes ap interested spectator, As they settle on the canes in flocks he continually helps himself until the sea of living creatures rises with a thunderous noise of wings and disperses to feed along the muddy and unfrogen bauks of the bayous. Among these, no doubt, was our triend in Central Park, When the great army of immigrants began its progress north: ward in the Spring, be followed in the wake, In his journeys north aud south his power of flight excels all the species of hawks snd all the owls save the snowy owl, Here ia the east our barred owl is something of a rarity. If an im- | aginary triangle is made up of lines in. | tersecting at Dubuque, Chicago and New Orleans, this species will be found in the greatest abundance within It, | To make sure of his flight with the mi- | grants, he breeds in the winter, and his | young learned to fly long before he | started north. | When hunting deer in Michigan one | winter I shot » barred owl which wa | nearly dead of consumption. His longs were in a partink staie of decomposi. tion. His craw showed au entire ab | sence of food, and further dissection ex. | hibited sigus of indigestion. Here were | two possible conclusions; either birds | are subject to diseases which afflict | man, or else the climate of Michigan it | bad fof barred owis. A Tedious Ride, | During a ¥ tedious ride on @ | Southern rail , the passengers, tired, dirty, and tnirsty, all berated the Com | pany with he o jon of one single TE ad . We PRSSONZErs oom. Faented on his, and asked Lim why he didn't denounce the road too. “It would be hardly fair," he replied, “as | am traveling on a free pass; but if don’t do better pretty soon, blame Ko out and buy a ticket! JWE Fin ’ tha of the ri iad i i
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers