The Homestead. Oh, wanderers {rom ancestral soll, Leave noisome mill and chaffering store, | Gird up your loins for sturdier toil And build the home once morel Come back to bayberry scented slopes And fragrant fern and grondaut vine; Breathe airs blown over hill and copse, Sweet with black birch and pine. What matter if the grains are small ‘That iife’s essential wants supply Your homesteads title gives you al That idle wealth can buy. All that the many-dollared crave, The brick-walled slave of ‘change and mars, Lawns, trees, fresh alr and flowers you have, More dear for lack of art. Your own sole masters, freedom-willed, With none to bul you go or stay; Thi the old flelds your fathers tilled, As manly men as they! With skill that spares your toiling hands, And ehemic ald that science brings, Reclaim the waste and outworn lands, And reign thereon as kings. Monsieur Zacharias Seller, an old judge of the tribunal of Stantz and member of the grand council of Lu- cerae, after having slept for twenty- five or thirty years through the clamors of the advocates on his circuit, had obtained the favor of withdrawing to | his snug villa, situated on the Kusnacht street, near the German gate. There ie was enjoying himself under the su- pervision of his old housekeeper, The- rese, a devoted person with a crooked | ose and a chin garnished with a thin, | gray beard. These two, full of indulgence for one another, respected their reciprocal | manias. Therese looked after the | household admirably, ironed the linen, | and took'care to renew monsieur’s stock of tobacco, shut up in a large stone jar, after which she was ai liberty to attend to her birds, read her prayer pook and go to mass, Monsieur Zacharias was approaching | his 60th vear, wore a wig, and had no other distraction than to cultivate a lew flowers and read the morning paper. This was well enough for a time, but there came a morning when the world seemed a blank, He said to | himself that he needed something more sxciting than to watch flower pots in a window and befog himself in the mazes | »f stupid politics, He was very thought- | ‘ul for some days, but one evening, after | supper, a bright idea came into his sead. *‘I have it; I will go fishing,” | se cried, clapping his hands so loud | hat Therese called out from the next com: **What is the matter, Monsieur? | Dne might think you had a fit,” The idea thus suddenly born proved .0 be a stubborn one, and the morning | yn which Monsieur Seiler first set out, | srovided with a pole, a big straw hat, | + fishing bag, and other accessories, was a veritable affair of state, Therese was greatly displeased at this new turn | n affairs, She muttered to herself and | had moments of impatience, and was | sbliged to go to confession twice | tener during a month than had been ver custom. But, for all that, she was | ‘orced to conform to the new order of | Aiings, i For example, whenever Monsiegr was seized with a desire to go fishidy, | ‘he excellent man, who deplored to | Jimself his feebleness, would look up | st the sky, and say with a melancholy | shake of the head: *‘It is very fine this | morning, Therese, What weather! | Not a drop of rain for three weeks!” | Therese would allow him to languish | for a few moments, then, laying aside her knitting and her prayer book, she would go to finding the fishing bag, the waistcoat, and the big hat of her master. Then the old judge would be- some animated, he would rise up briskly and say< “This is an excellent idea of yours, Therese. Yes, I will go fishing.” “Very well, Monsieur, but be sure to return at 7 o'clock, The evenings are 200! now.” One day in the month of July, 1845, toward 3 o'clock in the afternoon, Zacharias found hus fishing bag so full sf salmon trout that he not did wish to ake any more, because, as be said to almself, it was necessary to leave some tor the next day. After having washed 218 fish in a neighboring spring, and wrapped them carefully in sorrel to teep them fresh, he felt so sleepy that se thought he would take a nap in the seather, and wait until the shadows were longer to meunt the side of Bigel- rerg. Then, having broken his crust of sread and moistened his lips from his little bottle, he clambered fifteen or ;wenty steps below the footpath, and ay down in the shade of the fir trees apon the moss, his eyelids growing I6AYY. Never had the old judge been 80 fleepy. The oppressive heat of the sun, darting his long arrows of gold into the shadow of the wood, the mur- mur of insects upon the side of the hill, in the meadows and on the water, the listant cooing of ring doves squatted ander the somber shade of the beech He blushed, and rising sald: *‘Good day, my beautiful ehilal’ he young girl stopped, chased her eyes wide and recognized him, for who in all the country did not know the worthy judge? “Hil” said she, with a smile; ‘“‘this is Monsier Zacharias Seller.”’ The old man ascended into the path. mered somejunintelligbile words, like a very young man, so that the young girl appeared much embarrassed. Finally he made out to say: “Where are you going through the wood at this hour, my child?” She pointed out to jhum in the dls- tance, at the bottom of the valley, the house of a forester, “I am returning to my father, Yerl Foerster, whom you know without doubt, Monsieur Judge." “So you are the daughter of the worthy Yeri. You are the little Char- lotte of whom he often speaks when he brings me his reports!” “Yes, Monsieur Judge.” “Very well, I will accompany you home. I should like to see the worthy Foerster again. He must be getting a little old?” “He 1s about your age, Monsieur Judge,’’ said Charlotte, simply; *‘about 60 years old.” This artless response brought the good man to his senses, and as he went along he became very pensive. What were his thoughts? No one knows, but how many times it has happened that a good and worthy man, who all his duties, has finished by discover- ing that he neglected the greatest, the of marrying in his youth a good and noble woman, and remaining true and And what it Soon Zacharias and Charlotte reached the turn in the valley where the path passed over a little bridge, That worthy man was seated on the stone bench by his door, with a sprig of broom corn in his hat and two hunt- recognizing with his piercing eyes the judge and his daughter in the distance, he came to meet them, raising hls felt bat in salutation. “Good day, Monsieur Judge,” sad he, with the frank and cordial air of the mountaineer, ‘*what happy circom- stances procures me the honor of such a visit?” “Master Yeri, replied the good man, “I have tarried in the mountains until it is too late to go home. Have you a little corner vacant at your table, and a bed at the disposition of a friend?”’ “Hey!” cried the forester, *‘if there was but one bed in the house, should it not be for the best, the most honored you do the humble dwelling of Yeri 1 Foerster! cried out: to he run door Christina, come to repose under our roof.” At this a very little old woman, with a figure as stiff as a ramrod, but still fresh and smiling, appeared upon the threshold and disappeared immediately, murmuring: “Oh, God! Is it possible! Monsieur “Ah, my good people,” said Zacha- nas, ‘in truth you receive me too kindly.” “Monsieur,” replied the forester, “if you forget the good you have done others I do not.”’ Well, if the truth must be told, Judge Zacharias passed the evening with Yeri Foerster and his famly, forgetful of the inquietness of Therese, his promise to be at home by 7 o’closk and his old habits of order and submis- sion. Imagine to yourself that humble sitting room, with its ceilings streaked with brown girders, the round table in the midst with its dish of trout and plates of fruit and honey, yellow as gold, and worthy Papa Zacharias pre- senting each in turn to Charlotte, who dropped her eyes, astonished atl the compliments and tender words of the old man, “Ah, Mopsieur Judge, you are too good,” said Christina. “You do not know how much vexation this little one gives us. You will spoil her with 80 many fine words,”’ “Dame Christina,” replied Zacha. rias,’’ you a treasure. Mlle, Charlotte merits all I have said of her.” Then Yeri, raising his glass, cried: ““T'o the health of our good and vener- able Judge Zachanas,” and all drank to the toast. “Ah,” thought the Judge, “what happiness it would be to live here with Charlotte for a companion, at four steps from the river, where one could throw in a line from time to time and follow the chase with father-in-law Yeri Foerster, raising the echoes round about. Ah! what an existence!” When the clock struck 11 he rose. How young and fresh he felt] With what ardor he would have placed a kiss on Charlotte’s little hand, only he must not yet, He must wait, “It is time for , Master Yeri,” said he. ‘‘Good night and many thanks for your hospitality.” And to see him mount the high steps of the stairs one would have said he was but twenty years old, But those twenty years lasted only a quarter of him; her reproaches, her rage even. She had not shut her eyes the whole night; she had imagined him drowned in the river; she had sent ten people to look for hum, ete. Monsieur Seiler heard the complaints with the same calmness with which he had formerly listened ‘to the metaphors of an advocate pleading a lost cause— he heard, but said nothing. By the beginning of autumn he had fallen into such a habit of being at the forester’s house that one would have found him oftener there than at home, and Yeri found himself much embar- rassed to refuse the presents which the worthy magistrate begged him to ac- eept in return for his daily hospitality. He would shake his head sometimes and say to his wife, “I never knew a better judge, a more learned and respectable man than Monsieur Sailer, but I believe he is out of his mind. Only the other day he wanted to help me build the hut for the titmouse, and then he must also help Charlotte turn the hay, while all the peasants laugh at him. This is not proper, Christina; but [ do not dare to speak to him, he 1s so much above us.”’ “Let bim alone,” answered Chris- tina, “With a little milk aud honey this good Zacharias 18 content. He likes to be with us, it is so simple here, and then he likes to talk to our little daughter, Who knows but that he may adopt her, and when Le dies she would be remembered in his will,” The forester shrugged his shoulders. His natural sense made him divine some mystery, but he did not go to the length of suspecting the folly of the old judge. One fine morning he saw descending the mountain a wagon laden with three barrels of Rikevir wine, had received the most acceptable to Yeri Foerster, for of all things he liked a glass of good wine, And when he had tasted the wine he could not help crying out: in the world. Go, Charlotte, and make for him a bouquet of the finest roses and jasmines in the garden, and when Le comes give it to him yourself, God, what wine! What fire!” Zacharias followed close upon the heels of his present, and felt himself more than repaid by the flowers which Charlotte hastened to give him, while the forester sald cordially: “You must take supper with us and taste your wine, Monsteur Seiler. My wife 1s right to call you our benefac- tor.” Zacharias, seated at the table in the open air, his fishing pole against the wall, Charlotte opposite him and the forester on the right, began to talk of his prospects for the future, He had a pretty fortune, well managed, and he wanted to buy 200 acres of woedland on the edge of the valley and bulld a forester’'s house on the hillside, ‘“*We shall always be together’ said he to Yeri, **vou with me as much as I with yon." Mother Christina came in in her turn and devised this thing and that, | ries mnagined himself | these worthy people. | his chamber that night fall of the most | blissful illusions, putting off till the | next day his great declaration, doubt- | ing nothing as to the result. He held understood by | with effusion, weeping like a child, and | murmuring: | **Zacharias, Zacharias, you are going | to be the happiest of men, and, may it | please God, you will renew your youth jin a little Zacharias, or a little Char- { lotte who shall dance upon your knees land caress you with her rosy little { hands.” At this the good man seated himself, drunk with hope, his elbow on the window sill, his eyes wide open, and hearing as in a dream the frogs croaking under tie moon in the silent valley. He had sat thus for an hour, when something like a volley of pebbles or of dry peas, rattled against the win. dow glass and aroused him with a start, “What is that?” demanded he in a low tone, ralsing the window a little. “‘Charlotte, Charlotte, it is 1,” re- plied a tender voice. Zacharias trembled, and as he list- ened with staring eyes, the foliage stirred, and a young man stepped out into the moonlight. The old man raised himself indignantly, and threw the window wide open. “Have no fear, Charlotte, said the new comer, ‘I come to tell you good news. My father will be here to-mor- row to arrange with Yeri Foerster about our wedding.” Receiving no response he asked after a minute: “Where are you, Charlotte?” “I am here,’ said the old man, turn- ing very pale and looking fixedly at his rival. And as the judge began to with a mised voice, the youth said in a loud whisper: *‘In the name of heaven donoteryout. I am not a thief. I am Charlotte’s betrothed." “Yeri Foerster never told me any- thing of this, the wretch,” gasped Zacharias, Z “No, he does not know yet that we are ; He said when I asked his consent that his daughter was too young; that I must walt, But we have engaged ourselves, anyhow. I have told my father, and he is coming to- morrow to see Yeri, and, as I knew it would please Charlotte to hear this, I thought I would stop under her win- dow and tell her the news." “Poor, poor Zacharias,” murmured the old judge. ‘‘Behold thy illusions flown!” And he went to bed sobbing, and covered his head with the bed covers 50 as not to be heard. Toward 7 o'clock the next morning, having regained a little calm, he de- scended to the sitting room and found Yeri, his wife and daughter waiting breakfast for him. y “My friend,” sald he to the forester, “] have a favor to ask you. You know the son of the forester at Grinderwald, do you not?” “Karl Imant. Yes, Monsieur.” “He is a fine youth, and, 1 believe, of good conduct.” “1 believe it also, Monsieur Seiler.” “Is he properly qualified to succeed his father?’’ “Yes; he is 20 years old, he under- stands the management of snares and nets, and he can read and write. But he must also have patronage.’’ “Very well, I have influence in the administration of waters and forests, and in fifteen days Karl Imant shall be forester at Grinderwald, Furthermore, I demand of you the hand of Char- lotte for this handsome and worthy young man.” At this conclusion Charlotte, who at first had become very red, and who trembled like a leaf, fell with a cry into her mother’s arms, The old forester turned and looked at her with a severe eye. ‘““What is this, Charlotte, refuse?” “Oh, no, no, father!” “So much the better, for I have | nothing to ‘refuse to Monsieur Judge Zacharias. Come here and thank your benefactor,” Charlotte ran up to the old man, who | kissed her with his eves full of tears, Do you | Then, alleging the petition of Karl {| Imant which he was ia a hurry to | make, he set out for the city, taking {only a crust of bread in his bag for | breakfast, Five days afterward Karl Imant re- ceived the brevet of forester at Grinder wald, and eight days later married | Charlotte. Monsieur Seiler could not | be at the wedding; he was indisposed { that day, greatly to the regret of the | worthy forester and his family, Since | then the judge rarely goes fishing, and mountain, tl | other side of the Business Dishonesty. i | “It has come to this In business,’”’ a | merchant sald recently, ‘‘that you can | him the fair, square truth. He won't | believe you, and in the end when he | finds he's swindled, he has nobody to | blame but himseif.’”! A story which | we once heard a dog-fan-ier tell illus. | trates perfectly what the speaker meant. “I had some dogs to sell,” the | dog owner remarked, *‘and amoug | them was a very good-looking fellow | that wasn't worth a pin. He a handsome brute, but he hadn't | trained, and you couldn't train He had all the points, but he Well, one day wanted to buy a dog, and I told him to him, Was {| worthless, and look them over and pick oul one; { and be picked out this very dog. | asked what the price was, and I sald to | him, *1 gave $20 for that dog, but I tell you henestly it is not worth anything.’ | And I told him just how it was. was the result? Why, he thought I | wanted to keep that dog, and was lying | to keep hum from buying him, and have | him he would. Two or three weeks | afterward he offered me the dog for $5, | and finally he took him up the country | and Jeft him, because he was not worth | bringing back. Everybody lies so now- | telling the truth in a trade,” | Any business man would be likely enough to be able to add Instances of a similar nature, The truth is that trickery in trade has become so com- mon as almost to be regarded as legiti- mate, and the old proverb has been practically to add trade to love and war in the category of things which ex- cuse any and all means of gaining an end. “I retired from business,” a re- tired leather merchant told a friend, *‘because [ must lose money or make it by means 1 wouldn't stoop to. Com- petition in business methods I can meet as long as it 1s honest, but when it came to a match in roguery I threw up my hand.” ‘The only possible reflection which can give any satisfaction in this matter ig that the worse dishonesty becomes the more nearly it approaches the point where it defeats itself and the reaction begins. When it comes to be generally felt that nobody can be relied upon, a reputation for absolute honesty be- comes so valuable commercially that once more men find it worth while to cultivate a habit of straightforward dealing from a business point of view, even if they are not capable of being moved thereto by moral principles, Business can only be conducted upon the assumption of individual honesty, and hence, when fraud becomes too evi- dent, the imstinct of self-seeking comes into play to force men back once more to cleaner methods and more honorable dealing; and if the common prevalence of corruption may be taken as a sign, we cannot be far from the point of re- action to-day. FASHION NOTES: -Dark blue of the shade known as the “Princess of Wales” blue is perhaps the most popular of all colors just now, The universal becomingness of this particular tone in blue renders it an unusual favorite, and then it is never obtrusive, it does not fade in silk or all-wool fabrics, and it is agreeably re- heved in white, cream, ecru or red in certain shades, —French cashmeres are exquisitely fine and beautifully colored this sea son, The three popular shades are Suede, pale mauve and cream, and the novel way of using them is as linings to transparent embroideries on cream net, representing lace, Skirts made thus are exquisitely soft and pretty, the bodice composed of the cashmere, draped 1n surplice fashion, with folds of the embroidered net. —Plain velvets come in all new col- ors, also repped or epingle im cross stripes alternating with plain velvet, The novelty in the petite pois or pea- dotted velvets, with small spots em- broidered on them in contrasting col- ors, such as currant red wrought on Salammbo blue, on navy blue, or on green, and also in tone upon tone, es- shade, | This is rolled from each side to the middle of the back of the head, the rolls being perpendicular and | tucked In very snugly. A much better | effect 1s produced if the halr be natural- {ly wavy or be slightly crimped, in { unsightly as short, straight, stuby | looking ends, Switches of erimped | hair may be used to cover the natural | A small portion in the back or on the | crown of the head may be securely tied {and the ends turned in as closely as | possible. The crimped switch can then | be arranged so a8 to conceal the tied | portion, and the loose ends of the short { hair drawn under it. ~—Black Ture satin has appeared | among the list of novel elegancies, and a number of Parisian dinner-dresses of | this costly material are made with | sharp-pointed corsage front, with the | skirt laid in very wide, double box ing a panel, which is covered with a mass of jet embroderies. Between each is a wide stripe of black velvet, decorated with four handsome jet- tvaded pendants set one above another, age and sleeves, and smaller jet motifs are set down each side of the front of the velvet vest, The back is in prin- | cess style, with a V of the jet embroid- ery inserted half its length, in tralned evening dresses, | bridal toilets, the graceful {dress still meets with great | Sometimes the front alone | princess effect, with corsage pointed at the back, and vice versa, There is a or favor. silk or satins upon the fronts of these | ried in and out among the silken folds adept to copy. Some of the new black toilets made in this style, for dinners and receptions are of exceptional beauty and richness, made up fabrics of velvet-brocaded elamine, silk, lace in the exquisite thread de- signs, and jet-embroidered tulle. —The front hair is not worn 50 low over the brows as heretofore, but in many styles is drawn back and some- times brushed away from the temples altogether. The Pompadour roll has been adopted by some ladies to whose style it is suited. The front bair is slightly crimped and rolled over a light puff, the hair at the temples brough. slightly forward and crimped, or small pin-curis are used to fill out the sides and relieve the plainness which Is in such striking contrast to the heavily covered brows that have been so fashion- able. False fronts in Pompadour style are very light and pretty. They are made in a net and rolled over with small curls at the sides and a delicate fringe of hair over the brow. For the Russian bang the natural hair is cut short like a boy's, in the front, and slightly curled by pressing it with the bands while it is damp, It is then brushed toa point in the middie of the fore- head and well back from the temples, Ornaments for the hair are fashionable, but must be judiciously arranged to be effective. Fancy shell-pins, knots of Hikes and some fancy metal pins are —Demorest says there are indica- tions of a change from the high styles of hair-dressing that have of late pre. At the moment a favorite fashion seems to be the rather large- sized knob directly at the back, the coil or brald set rather loosely and out some distance from the to certain people, HOASE NOTES. —ommotion, the great Australian race-horse has gone lame. —Phallas will very Likely to localed in Kentucky next season. — Harry Blaylock, the jockey, has signed to ride for Ed Corrigan next season. —~John Murphy drove Pleard, by Abdallah Pilot, a half miie in 1.084, at Fleetwood, last week. ~Dr. Bray, ot Piitville, Philadel phia, has sold his 2-year-old Messenger Chief colt, Price, $500, — Little Minch and Eigin, for whom George Hankins, of Chicago, paid $11,000, have not won a race since leay- ing the East, ~A. Loudon Snowden drove ons of his horses, with another he was trying, a mile over Belmont Course in 2.27%, tc a top wagon. J, K. Leavitt drove J. H. Gould and Bessie M. a mile to road wagon it 2.224, last quarter in 34 seconds, ovel the Belmont track. —W. B. Barnes, owner of Blue Wing and other race-horses, will, it is said, sell out and retire from the turf at the end of the present season. ~ Mr. Case says that Jay-Eye-See hat | been greatly benefitted by the loag let | up, and asserts that the little black will | be as fast as ever next season. — Walter Gratz, of Philadelphia, has bought of D. O'Connor, the br. f. | Juliet, foaled 1883, by Hyder Ali, dam | Etta (Sally Red), by Star Davis. —(ld Barnum has started thirty-five times this year, won iineteen races, | been unplaced but four times, and has | captured $15,685 in gross earnings. | —Oliver K. beat Harry Wilkes, Arab, Charley Hilton and Phyllis in straight | heats at St. Louis. The time of the | three heats was 2.16, 2.163, 2.17. | ~The g. m. Alice Medium, record { 2.344, by Happy Medium, was run into { and thrown down on the track at Elk | ton, Md., October 7, and subsequently {died on the cars. | — Milton Young, of the McGrathiana | Stud, Lexington, Ky., has purchased of i L. Duvall, of Richmond, Mo., the | brown horse Strathmore, foaled 1876, | by Waverly, dam Brenna, by Knight of { St. George. Strathmore will probably | be used asa stallion at the McGrathiana | Stud. | ~Major Eldridge McConkey, of Har- | risburg, Secretary of the Pennsylvania | State Agricultural Society, recently | returned (rom a short visit to Ken- {tucky. While at Lexington, he saw ithe colt Wild Hake, the conquerer of Bermuda, Nutbreaker, etic., and | paid a visit to Mr. H. C. Mock, at Dan- { ville, where were quartered a number | of the produce of Messenger Chief dur- ing the past two seasons, He pro- | nounces them exceedingly promising, and states that he has never seen a lot that for looks, speed and general thriftiness were their superiors, If | equals, in any of his previous visits to the Biue Grass region. —The greatest sale of trotting stock { ever held was that at Glenview, Ky., | during the week ending October 16th, when 153 head of highly bred animals | were sold at public auction for some- thing over $325,000, an average of | about $2100 per head. This sale shows the high estimate in which the well | bred trotting horse is held. FPancoast, | a 0-year old bay stallion, brought $28, - 000, which is the highest fgure ever paid for a trotter at auction. The well-known Nutwood, half-brother Ww Maud S., sold for $22,000, The Glen- { view Farm, which is the estate of the | late J. C. McFerran, was purchased by { J. I. Case, owner of Jay-Eye-See, and 8. H. Wilson, of sewing machine fame, for ($72,403, an average of $113.50 per acre. Pancoast was started at $10,000, John H. Clark, of New Brunswick, N. J., was the principal bidder against J, | H. Shults, who finally got the horse. Robert Steel was the biggest buyer from Philadelphia, ~The rupture between Mr. Haggin and the jockey Spellman has been healed, and the la tter signed a new contract to ride for the California stable another season. The trouble arose through jealousy on Speliman’s part, who says that he reduced to ride Hidalgo for the grand national bhandi- cap, at Jerome Park, and went tc welgh out, dressed in the colors, when he was told he would have to “‘stand down,” as Hayward was to ride the horse. Spellman demurred. He said he bad understood when he engaged with Mr. Haggin that it was as frst jockey, and he had been told to prepare to ride Hidalgo. Mr. Haggin ex- plained that he had paid Hayward for a call on his services, and thought he might as well have some benefit from his money. Spellman rephed that in that case Hayward could ride them all, and asked for his release, Mr. Haggin ~The chief prizes at Vienna (Aus. tria), fall meeting, were won by ne
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