A WAYSIDE TROUGHT. Gather the gold of the sunshine, Falling in showers at your feet; Hid in white cups of the ily, Garnered in ripening wheat, Filtering down through the tree top Down to the violet bine. Gather the gold of the sunshind-- A bountiful blessing for you! Hoard the sweet music of laughter, Outflowing froin innocent lips, Tike th’ sound of the cool, dripping water, Where robin his rufiled wing dips, *Tis the song-bird of merriest childhood, That sings to your care-burdened heart, Then hoard the sweet music of laughter, "Twill give you of youth-time a part. Count the kind words that are falling Around you on every side; Heed not the voices contentions, Full of ill-humor and pride, Gentleness, patience and meekness All in rare beauty will grow, If you count the kind words spoken, And let the other ones go. tows are Plant the sweet flowers of affection Ail thro’ the chill winter hours; Never a seed of dissention Cap spring from these beautiful mowers, A garden of fragrant enchantment Fill grow from the tiniest seed, Then plant the sweet flowers of affection, To gather again in your need. TTS ATI A JURYMAN'S OATH. I was on the jury, and I don’t mind telling you—just in confidence, you know—that 1 was thoroughly sick of it. It was very flattering to be called a good man and true, and to be addressed by a man in a wig, and sworn, and to have to sit in a box with eleven more good men and true, thinking that you were part of an old English institution, dating back hundreds of years, for the ace of Justice, before one of the Judges, It’s a case of libel.” “What, one man writing about an- other, and saying he's « terrible black- guard, and ought to be kicked out of society?" “Exactly, my dear,” I replied; and in due time I went, “The Judge who said so was quite right—the court is very draughty, and when after losing myself for about half an hour in the wandering passages, 1 found myself in the court, and was nearly fined for being late, | was very glad to turn up the collar of my coat as 1 sat thers sworn to do my duty, and listening to the case. Bless my soul, 1 could have settied it all in a quarter of an hour, without a barrister in a wig with another barris- ter in another wig, who, I was told was his junior, on the one side, and again another barrister with his junior on the other side. Then there were lawyers with blue badges and papers enough to frighten the Judge, as he sat there, looking very cool and comfortable in his wig and gown, but not frightened a bit. Here was the case in a nutshell. Joseph Roe wanted to go into partner- ship with John Doe’s son, and John Doe’s son’s brother wrote to him—to his brother, you know—and says to him: “Don’t you go into partnership with Joseph Roe, because he's a regular blackguard. He was in partnership in the fried fish trade with another man once, and he sdent the money, and neg- lected the business, and kicked over nothing to say to him.” Roe, and he says, says he: *You are protection of the humble against the wealthy, and to insure for every man a | righteous trial, and safety against the | oppression of those high in power. Oh, I can assure you that I, James smith, of Clerkenwell, appreciated be- | ing summoned on the jury for some things, if I did not for others, “Jt seems a great shame, James,’ said my wife, after the man had left the paper, “that yoa should ba forced to gu away from your work tosit on a and without any pay.” “Well—er- H rather imp my pockets, as to and fro before t like a vestryman Board of Gt my dear; but jury is the palla iy.” “Tha what mm “The palla by jury, wher true sit in judg a defendant——-~"' “Now, for goodness gracious James, don’t you go having any to do with 1.” “Woman,” J said, “I must; and, sake asl What you've got to do is to prove that showed him the letter—*‘or else “All night,” says Joseph Roe, “I soon do that,’ t Joe Doe’s son's brother, And that was the libel case we good 3 3 - ¥ th Ls» . few words, clear enough, 1 think; but vou should have heard what the law- re were the open- ng speeches, and the obj the other side by i the terrupted me-—"' “Rudely ss 3 eried. “Well, it’s a stra woman can't mterrupt band, “But “‘and she observing, men with am oppress th Humble J languish in prison © corrupt Judge, who fot or whose venality had been ¢ a heavy bribe from my lord Fitzurse. You are following r you not?’ “Following vou she cried. **1 don gobbling about, All I know Is, that it seems a strange thing that you should be forced to go away fiom your bu ness to sit boxed up in a jury box.” Frit arriiriheed interrupted she can,” 1 always does. k a plaintively, {, as 1 was sured by the Baron 8. ar ? Bless me, man, no!” 3 hours,” I said, jocosely. : “What, in the box, James?’ cried my wife. ‘‘Bless usand save us, dear, don’t say they do thal.” my | replied; “and without food, too, if they do not give in their verdict.” “Think of that, now,” said my wife. “Well, I hdve heard of such things | I remember now: but I hope it won't | come to that Of course, you will give | me a verdict so asnot to be locked up.” “1 shall do my duty asa good man and true,” I said, importantly. “1 do wish you wouldn't keep calling yourself a good man and troe,’’ said my wife, pettishly. *‘It sounds so silly. But, look here, James, we haven’ been married twenty years for nothing,’’ “We have not, my dear,” I said, | sadly. You have cost me a deal of | money.” “Ruff! What I meant was that I've | not been married to you for twenty years without knowing you by heart.” “Ah, that’s what you always say,” 1 replied, “Yes; sir; and it’s quite true, and 55 I warn you. Now, don’t you go con demning any poor creature to bs hang- ed, because if you do, you'll never for- | give yourself.” “Pon't taik nonsense, woman, It is! the judge who sentences people to be hanged.’ “Then what's the good of the jury?" “Why, that’s what I have been tell- ing you, woman. The jury is the pal. as of British liberty.” “Oh, is it? Well, then, don’t you eon- demn any poor creature to be banged, be- cause if you do you'll never forget ii, and I shall be having you getting nighi- mares, and jumping up in shouting, as you did after you poisoned the Thompson’s cat.” “My good woman,” I said, “I ex. premly forbade you to speak about that, Thompson thought that I had killed that thieving Tom of his, I should never, hear the last of it. And, beside, you do not know that I killed the yowiing night-disturtang brute," “Oh, don’t 17" she said, nodding her head. ‘Well, at all events, 1 saw you cut open that red herring, and put the white powder inside.’’ “Hush!” 1 erled: *‘and look here, I'm ios | oing to a common trial for mur- der. “Oh, come, I'm glad of that.” “I'm going to a trial at the Palace of al ’ “1 £ iv } | & 3 ¥ hard 1 and made suc! ' and another, 1 tempers for retur the case came Lo i Dot iV ! The case id that day, instead of us good ing in the nm off to a nd then morning to $ irty guineas a day for my attend. amining a witness, 1 could have made a man has to leave his business day after day to take care of itself and sil there in and quibbles and legal dodgings and should get a bit sharp and sour. It sets a man’s§wits on edge, and a verdiet on one side or the other, are all the time treating the gentlemen of the jury as if they were whut they have They are addressing one eve is all the time directed at the judge and whenever his lordship yawns, or is spoken to by some one, or takes up and of no consequetce at all, and I understand that business; but I don’t pretend to know anything about law or about giving judgment over a Cs I know how it stands being right when I've heard the whole trial, but of ¢ourse not so well as u man whose pro- fession 1t is to study law and the ins acd outs of such matters. And yet, all the same, I'm fetched from my business, stuck in a box with a lot of others, to blink like so many owls taken out of a barn, and made into reg- ular butte, and nothing more. strong language this from a man who was boasting about trial by jury belng the guardian of British liberty? Perhaps it is; but I hadn't been on a jury then, Well, the trial went on, and, as it seemed to me, John Doe's son’s brother only behaved like a brother, “Here, says he, ‘is my brother goin into partnership with a man whom don’t like, ani I don’t like him because ‘I've. heard that he played old goose- berry with fhe fried fish business and ruined his last pasta. I think 1 ought to stop my , if I can, and 1 will, or else he'll be just as badly off 5 . ustice, “ae not tc a police court?” ra Y hats police 0 a8 the other man.” ® oo So what does hie do but, as I've told you before, write to his brother, Well, as a juryman, I don’t see that he did any harm. Perhaps he wrote a bit too strongly, Perhaps what he sald mightn’t have been true, though he be- lieved it was, and of course it Was rough upon Richard Roe; but, all the same, it was one brother writing to another brother, and as I whispered to my neighbor, it a letter from one’s brother isn’t a privileged communica~ tion we are in a pretty fix, and we shall be having more libel cases than all the Judges could try in a thousand years, He agreed with me. and, as the case went on, we got thinking iv over and we were all of the same opinion, The counsel talked, and at last, when the case was closed, the Judge gave us his cpinion, and a great deal of good that did us, He talked a tremendous while, and some one sald that it was a marvellous summing up; but it all came to this. One hour he was, as it were, asking us to give a verdi-t for the plain tiff; the next, how Lo give a verdict for the defendant, and finally, in his own words, it came to this, I say in his own words, These are mine, “Now, gentlemen of the jury, you have heard all the evidence, the speech- es of the counsel for the plaintiff and | defendant, and, lastly, you have heard | my very long<drawn-out, wordy, wind- baggy address to you; and now what | youv’e got to do is this: If you think | the plaintiff is in the right, you will | give him the verdict, and if you think | defendant is in the right, you will give ! him the verdict, You will now retire,” All of which we knew perfectly well | before, and therefore did not want tell- ing. So we retired, and as soon as we were shut up in our room, we had our i say together—the Foreman we had chosen teking the lead, “Well, gentlemen,’ hesays, “I don’t | think as jurymen, this wants much con- | sideration. If one brother can’t write a letter of advice to another brother, and say some one else is a blackguard. | we've come toa prebty pass, and sooner John Bull puts gives up business the better, ’ and | do you say?’ “Say? Isays: **Verdict for the fendant. ‘Hear. hear, hear!’ * § for we + LOT Wi must | 1 REALE unanimous j % fant, and there art, wh ther and fell that re reunon the righ sd round ateach o rht thing. as il we J 2 mt idge, and colored y had done Ms word, we felt 1 higher than the y with satisfaction. Then we came down flop, as if had been knocked Judge, were sit off our perches by the belief, or whatever you like to call it, we had given in our verdict as good men and true—as so many British jury- men, and we were taught the next mo- a name—a mere show ina court and about as much good as Gog or Magog in the city, for the Judge took up his | head a shake, and then sald that he did should be returned, “Verdict for plaintiff,’ he said, **with | costs,” | other, and then at the people in the court, who were making quite a buzz, Then we spoke to each other again, the foreman. “Where are we?’ says I, and feeling very red and indignant, “Look here, my lord,” 1 says. Just then | found that the judge had left the bench, “Well, said, "if thisisa trial by : jury naa y {| Idid not Gaish-—{he foreman did that, { with his face looking lobster-like in | color and prominence of eye, | my opinion of tins interference on the | part of the judge with the liberty of the | subject and the ancient rights of man in | trial by jury, I think that? | Well, I will not tell you what he | thought; it was a little too strong. | But I will tell you this—I think just { the same, ; I'he Holstein is a good cow for family use. A Noman Mixsmarous lady recently engaged a new servant, and one day in. structed her to tell callers ahie was not at home, A visitor asking for her mis. tress, Bridget replied, ‘No mum, she's not at hum,” “When will she return,” asked the caller: “Faith, thio, and she won't return,” said Dridget, “What, has she gone away for good?” “ murther, she's not ote. Whin she's at hum she’s not at hum, and whin she’s not at bum she's at | hum. Come whin she’s not at hum,” Fall of Khartoum, “A large number of witnesses state that Gordon was killed near the gate of the palace, and various accounts have been related from hearsay of the exact manner in which be met his end, Bev- eral reliable witnesses saw and recogs nized Gordon's body at the gate of the palace; one describes it as being dressed in light clothes. The Soudan custom of beheading and exposing the heads eof adversaries slain in battle was apparent- ly, carried out, ns was done by the Mu- dir of Dongola after the battle at Korti. | The Bagara savages seem to have had | some doubt which was Gordon's body, | and great confusion occurred in the Mahdi’s camp at Omdurman, where the heads were exposed, as to which was Gordon's head; some recognizing, others denying the identity of Gordon's head. One apparently reliable witness relates that he saw the rebels cut of Gordon’s head at the palace gate after the town was in their hands. *“The massacre in the town lasted some six hours, and about 4,000 persons at least wers killed, The black troops were spared, except those who resisted at the Boori Gate and elsewhere; large numbers of the townspeople and slaves were killed and wounded, The Dash Bazouks and white regulars, numbering 3,327, and the Shaigia irregulars num. bering 2,530, were mostly all killed in cold blood, after they had surrendered and been disarmed. ! “Consul Hansel was killed in his own | house. Consul Nicola, a doctor, and | Ibraham Bey Fauzi, who was Gordon’s secretary, were taken prisoners. The latter was wounded, “At about 10 A. M, the Mahdi sent over orders to stop the mussacre, which then ceased. The sebels fell to looting the town, and ordered all the inhabi- | tants out of it; they were searched at over to Omdurman, where {the women were distributed as slaves among the | rebel chiefs, The men, after being | kept as prisoners, under a guard, for | vere stripped, and allowed to get their living as best they could. “it ha the Mahd! angry when he heard of General jon’s death; but } pated been stated that thon 3 DIACK roo} in my too, Ith t when they are eal fus I've seen } As a 8pil- with fear. ie on a reef one 1 some more oil 1 boat steerer to make for the gully-way the rocks where was, We came right up to him, putan iron into him, and hauled him after us out into the clear water, Then I got in the bow right under his nose, when Le grabbed the bow of the boat in his their little bite off a pi toon d th 4 WAi3 ful K as big an OW AF force, I found oi day, and as we neede ordered the Han in he He bit off the ends of three lances | and another he snapped oul of my hands | and tried to throw it at us. Once he made a snap at me with his head, throwing me right into the boat with my two hands buried it in his head up to the handle. It killed him out. He was twenty-five feet long, | We made blanket-sheets of his blubber, | entting it into pieces three feet square, Then piercing a hole in the center of | each block, and running through a spun it to the ship. The usual way to kill a | through his mouth into the brain, A Dog Story. Two years ago several domestic dogs strayed into the mountains on the head of Wind river and became wild, The have now increased to some two hund- red in number, and have developed a fierce spirit, They have located in an immense oliff, and from here thay issue on their excursions, which are dis astrons to the Jone stock the ranges, the dogs killing and devouring the strongest and wost active calves, and easily peiling down a yearling, Some time ago sn employe of one of the large cattle ranches was hauling hay, and his route took him by the oliff of the dogs. As he passed the dens the sav. ago inhabitants swarmed out in full force and made a most determined on. slags oa him and the team, It took n FASHION NOTES. ~Thers are indications of a contin. annce of tinsel effects in fall fabrics, but this is not assured as yet. ~The most marked feature of the coming season’s dresses will be the ab sence of the **bunchy” side draperies, —Flannel 18 the best goods for walk- tucks recommend themselves for trimmings, Beaded dresses are very fashiona- ble. These are worn over rich silk gowns of bright bues, The ample dra- peries are looped up with clustered silk velvet flowers, ~The importers of dry goods say we are to have another season of velvet and velveteen, plain and broche. —Dark moss green and purple are two colors used in Paris millinery this season, French modistes also used this combination. Peacock effects in blue and green will be seen in street costumes the com- ing season. Velvet is particularly ef- fective in these colors, —An acorn fringe in the natural color of the fruit of the oak tree is the latest French novelty in the way of elegant dress trimmings. — Autumn leaves with the brilliant colors of the American maples are now made very successfully by the French flower manufacturers and are ussd to decorate evening costuines. ~—Galloon ribbons, in Turkish de- signs, colors and effects, are among the peculiar novelties, and cross stripes in bourette effects of fine worsted and raw —Fancy embroidered and beaded crowns, in cloth, velvet and lace are abundant, and are seen in eome of the handsoms bonnets, and the embroid- woolen materials are most desirable of present mi cies. among the ~There are striped ribbons in 8 ips of 8 and mn ribt wt tin wi aL molre antique i of while is rain supp fe 3 LiITsa i, CTvadin, gree! i: basques made with wshion are used by many instead fey as an extra waist with various skirts. A dark bl winecoluored basque, with an silver or gill braid, is worn witl of black silk or blue satin merveilleux, or with any of the new striped wool o1 silk fabrics. A very light tan-colored cloth postilion, with darker brown braid or with gilt edges, is quite dressy, and will contrast well with many colors, Whie cloth basques are also very stylish. The nght side of the front laps over to fasten on the left side he 4 axl 1a breasted and edged Loy # HL i 1OYREYS ue orf rts agonally, reaching the middie of the front at the waist line, and below this forms two sharp points, ons and a half to two inches high, and is made straight on the front edges, and touching; it is there fastened by a small clasp, or by buttons are passed, or by a smal Iustead of fastening the front with the usnal metal buttons, some- times leat~shaped clasps ate used with a Book and eye under each leaf, Stripes of all kindsare very popular costumes, different parts being adapted to them as fancy dictates. Striped piushes are elegant; one exam. ple is in dark green, a half-inch wide stripe of plush alternating with one of cashmere of the same color, the latter being studded with boucle spots of red, the boucle effect being curled loops up. standing in relief from the ground. An effective novelty 1s called *‘the feath- ered stripe,” and isin all the fashionable colors, plum, vavy blue, claret and green; plain woolen is to be combined with it. Striped skirts are much used with cloth overdresses, and these may be across or lengthwise, in pleats or plain, as the wearer chooses. For cross stripes maroon velvet two inches wide, on dark brown or blue cloth, is very ef- fective in a kilt-pleated skirt that may be in regular pleats all around, or else have a plan front with pleats in the sides back. The frise-striped wools are also most effective for skirts, whether in one color or contrasts, of these there isa very wide the with HORSE NOTES, a i ——— ~—Harry Wilkes is suffering from pink-e¢ye, and has been sent to Ken- tucky. Nathan Strauss, of New York, drove his gelding, Majolica. a mile in 2.23 to road-wagon, last week, — Harry Wilkes’ reported trial of 2.004 at Cleveland in September 8 looked upon with suspicion by horse men, —dJ. W, Rogers, for years Corrigan’s trainer, has been engaged by Captain Sam Brown, of Pittsburg, for next Beason, —I%. C. Pate, St. Louis, Mo., has purchased from Captain William Cot. trill, Magnolia Stud, Mobile, Ala. , the bay colt Zigzag. _—Parole will remain in the Rancocas Stable until the end of the season, when Dr, Green will come into possess. lon of the famous old gelding. ~Mambrino Hasson won the 2.50 race at Pottstown in three straight heats; Nelson was second, and Lady Independence third, Best time, 2.3L —John Mackey, agent for J. B. Haggin, of Sacramento, Cal, has pur- chased of Mrs, J. B. Ferguson, of Lexington, Ky, the bay colt, foaled 1885, by Ten Broeck—Oleander, by Tipperary, for $1000, ~3rover Cleveland (full brother to Long Taw, Slipalong, eic.), foaled 1885, by Longfellow, dam Slipper, by Planet, has been sold by Dr. Nutter, Lexing- ton, Ky., to J. B. Haggun, of California, for $1250, — Abe Perry, the colored trainer, has purchased from W. Cheatham, Nash- | ville, Tenn,, the chestnut tilly Eloise, | foaled 1882, by imp. Great Tom, dam Buttercup, by imp. Athol, for £1200 $1200, (len ~Mr, George A. Bin ding Meleod I ont Park, | Bf nileman rider ives the performar be fact that M n the saddle for se “a a5 to be K 3 r N ese i having wi Oaks, Gra i with a check oe, and of plate by the D ord Hastings and Lor chief patrons a ! the iece race for the Crarewilch stakes, great event of the second October meeting at Newmarket, was run on the i 10th, Twenty ran. H. | Bouy’s three-year-old chestnut filly | Plaisanterie won, Mr. Hnangerford’s | five-vear-old bay mare Xema second, { and T. Cannon’s four-year-old bay ily Postscript third, laisanterie, the winner, was bred in France. A good | start was made. Kinsky made the | running to the bushes, where he fell away and Nema took the lead. The | Intter was challenged by Plaisantene, who after a sharp struggle went to the front and won in a canter by two lengths, Postscript finished four lengths "behind Nema. Bloe Grass, formerly owned by Mr. James Keene, but now the property of Mr. IR. Craig, came in ninth. -The American Jockey Club has taken a new lease for ten years of the grounds known as Jerome Park. The property is owned principally by Mr. William R. Travers, that gentleman having bought up the stock of the Villa Site Improvement Association, when real estate was more of a drug in the market than now. Under the lease the receipts of the raee weetings, after all expenses have been paid, will go to the Villa Site Improvement Association, The track is to be reconstructed, so as to avoid the dangerous double turn around the club bousa, Part of the bluff will be cut away, And the first turn will be carried out to where the Lorillard Stable now stauds, ~Mr. Milton Young, the turfman, has wagered $500 against §10 with Mr, Joseph Swigert that Mr, Swigert’s colt Sir Joseph will not win the Derby of 1886, Mr. Young argues that the bet 8a ited ave. He thinks the chanoss are fifty to one in the autumn that the second-rate colt will not win the Derby in the ng. At the recent two horses
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