A Gem of The H me rmamssnaeneniss ff Joy met Sorrow in a pl Where the'branches int Very seoret, still and Safe from all profanin “Why art here?” J¢ “Why att here®"* ' G Murmured Sorroy a Tears an grateiv fore 108. Lome, nafce, and be taught How to ease th/hoart o'er fraught.”’ Joy sat downst Sorrow’s feet, And was tanfit a lesson sweet. Fain wenld ® make kind return; too old to learn? tarry yet awhile, thee how to smile, Since th bour the two have been Bou by mysterious kin; 0 Sincesiat hour they so exchange Teargand smiles, "tis nothing strange if scfoetimes a puzzled heart Scoaree can tall ‘he twain apart. SERENE WHAT CAME OF 17° Staart Willargd was a kind-hearted boy. frank, generous, honest and truth- ful. but se lazy that his mother despair- ed of ever seeing him amount to any- thing. She was a widow, with no one to help her wrain her son, and neither advice, expestulation nor argument had any effect upon him. He studied no more than was actually necessary to en- able him to keep up with his classes, had ne ambition to be at the head of any of them, and worked as litt'e as possible about the house, though love and consideration for his mother pre- ventedtim from ever shirking his regu- lar duties, such as milking the cow, cutting wood and bringing water. But he starved at hier aghast when she pro- posed that be should take entire charge of the garden, devoting to it his time before and after school hours, thus sav- ing the expense of hiring help. 0) mother, I never could,” he said, “the weeds would be higher than my head in 8 wmouth’s time; I’m nohand at a rakoora hoe” “Yewreao hand at anything, so far as I camses,’’ suid hismother, ‘*There will have to be a radical change in you, Stuart, §f you expect ever to win money or position.” “I don™ know that I care for either,” answered Stuart. *‘I'm not one of the pushing kind. A quiet life suits me best”? “And you'll vour friends get pose, ’ “Now, mother, don’t worry” stuart looked really distressed. come out »M vight never fear.” content to see all ahead of you, I sup- > and ‘+111 il ed. then,” said Mrs, Williard, sighing. acter, and 1 will keep you down all your life," Though ulvarse to exertion of any be of any avail, of the right or wrong of the good time. And he had three par- ticular friends, who, in boy rarlance, ‘never stuck at aunything,’’ when there was fun ahead They all considered old Simon Peif- fer. the richest nan in Westville, fair game, for it was well known that he hated auything in the shape of a boy, and’ never spoke to or looked at one, rough old bear Lie was believed to be. He was with a housekeeper aml half a dozen servants In a handsome house in the suburbs of the town, and he might have thoroughly enjoyed his large grounds, fine orchards, and well-bred live stock, but for the boys of the town, who mis- chievously milked his cows, stole his fruit, fished his trout pond, broke down his fences, left his gates open, and made themselves generally obnox- 1OUS, I'he culprits always managed in some way to escape detection. Well did they in i be made caught, of the first boy old He openly declared that he how te deal with the offender. We never know how our most trifling impulses, if acted upon, may affect the lives of others When Ben Hopper stopped one May evening at the gate of the little cottage in which Stuart lived, ind asked if he didn’t want to go out to he old amil on the Creek road to hunt squirrels, no intuition told him that he was doing seniething which was to lead ‘0 an evgnt that would influence all the vst of Hiuart’s life, Stuart accepted the invitation, of course, and on their way oul of town the boys were joined by Tom Halpine and Luke Wright, who were quite as fond of squirrel-hunting 1s were Stuart and Ben, For at teast half a mile after leaving the town the Creek road was bounded m one side by a pasture belongiog to Mr. Peiffer, and so generously did it abound with chestnut, persimmon and rab-apple trees that the boys were {familiar with every rod of it. But It was not the season now for chestnuts, persimmons or crab-apples, and thé: sq@rrel-hunting party would have gone whistling and shouting by, had not a handsome brown horse, quiet. ly grazing the short grass, raised his head ab sight of them and whinnied softly, “I know something we can doa sight betier'n squirrel-hunting,” said Luke Wright, stopping short. ** What do you sa¥ 10 & ride?’’ “I'm in for it,” answered Tom Hal pine, *'1 don't believe we'd find any squirrels anyhow, They're gettin’ so shy they dom’t come around the mill like they used to.” The wn horse had probably been feeling, lonely, and was of com- pany, forshosluinde nd lon what ever wh Jbpluart own a r bars, and £Oi1ig up to him, took bold of hin Sorel and led him into the toad, u very vigorously to having four boys on his back at one time, and kicked and caresred until he succeeded tn ridding himself of all four of them. “We'll have to take turns riding,” said Ben Hopper, “Each fellow can go as far as the bridge, and then turn back.” They had made a bridle out of a rope Stuart had in Lis pocket and a piece of wood they picked up in the road, and the horse allowed himself to be guided very easily, He seemed spirited but very gentle, and had evidently been trained to trot, The boys acted on Ben's suggestion, and took turns at trying the animal's paces, enjoying themselves so much that they were loath to end the sport when it began to grow dark, “I must have one more ride, and then I will be even with the rest of you and we can go home,” said Stuart, as Luke came trotting up and swinging himself from the horse's back. “Wouldn't oid Simon be in a rage if he should happen along now,” suid Tom, as he helped Stuart to mount, “This 1s about the best fun he ever furnished us,” laughed Stuart, as he rode away, “and he'll never be any the wiser, either.” He went clattering up the road at a good pace, and the bridge—a rough log structure—was reached all too soon. =I guess I'll go a little further,” he thought, **There’s no telling when I'll get another ride, and I'd better make the most of this.” But he went even a shorter distance further than he intended, for, half way across the bridge, the horse suddenly stopped, gave a wild snort of terror, and began to back. Stuart saw that the animal was frightened by an old tree which, blasted by lightning and depriv- ed of its bark, stood at the other end of the bridge lize a ghostly sentinel, look- ing almost snow-white in the uncertain light; but, unaccustomed to horses, he did not know what to do, and in his ex- citement and alarm pulled too hard on one rein. ‘The horse reared, gave a to the gulch, nearly thirty feet below, ¥ ’ J few minutes was able to get up from the bed of mud into which he had fall en. But the handsome brown horse did not move; he lay among the weeds and stones with a broken neck. Stuart could not believe at first that the animal was dead; it seemed too hor- rible to be true. But all his efforts to rouse the poor creature proving futile, he sat down, sick and white, upon the nearest stone, and shouted to his com- panions for help. . was a long time before they were an- swered, utterly unprepared for the dreadful news Stuart had to tell them, were terribly shocked, about the dead expressions of dismay and sorrow, “I don’t know old Simon,” groaned Stuart. and gathered “Boys, “Tell him!" exclaimed Tom Halpine, fool! What's the use of telling him? —— “Well, speak, and be quick about it,” was the rough rejoinder. ‘‘You want work, I suppose, and big wages. You may as well leave, for 1 haven't any work to give you.” “No, sir; I don’t want work,” stam- mered poor Stuart. ‘I want to tell you that I took your horse out of the past- ure, and—and—it got frightened and fell over the bridge.” For a moment, it seemed much long- er to Stuart in his agony of suspense, the old gentleman stared at him in utter silence, his face fairly purple with rage. “*You—you young reprobate!” he ex- claimed at last, **You ought to be shot!” “Yes, sir, I know it,” answered Stuart. *‘I was never so sorry for any- thing in all my life as I am for this, But we only wanted to have a little fun, and never thought of hurting the horse.” “You were not alone, Mr. Peiffer, **No, sir.’ “Who were the others?” ‘“T'here’s no use in telling that, sir’, answered Stuart, true to the promise of secrecy he had made. *'I was the one then?” said 3» the bridge, and it was all my fault, 1 ought not to have tried to eross the bridge. I might have known he would be frightened at that old tree.” The angry flush left Mr, face, and a very peculiar look came in- to his keen gray eyes, “Nevertheless, you had better tell me you,’ he said, But the covert threat contained in these last words did not cause Stuart to waver an mstant., He was very gener- ous as well as brave. I told the boys I wouldn't, sir, answered respectfully. “They didn’t offer to come with you, I suppose?’ “There was no need of it, sir.’ » truth and honesty I could rely implic- itly. If you stay with me, Willard, I'll allow vou a good salary from this day forward, and there'll be an excellent chance for promotion to something a good deal better,”’ Of course Willard stayed, and the “something a good deal better’’ proved to be a junior partnership at the end of eight years’ service, So vou see Stuart had reason to be thankful that the principles of honesty and truth, instilled into him by his widowed mother, led him to make the confession which resulted in curing him forever of his great fault, and placing him in a position of honor and trust. ————— 3 HOW A BLIND MAN SEES, The Extraordinary Case of a West. ern Man. Many instances have been related showing that defection in any one or more of the human senses often result in developing the corresponding inner sense. ‘This has been more frequently observed in persons afflicted with loss of One of the kind is the Chicago Herald, which can be safe- on record. Mr, Henry Hendrickson, born mn Norway forty-three years ago, but who has lived in this country forty years, was deprived of sight when six months old, He was educated at the institu. for the blind in Janesville, Wis, , is the author of a book entitled “Ont of the Darkness,’ somewhat in the mediumship with pay me for my horse?” Pay him! Stuart stared at the old gentleman aghast. The thought paying for the horse had never entered his mind, He knew payment was out He had make her small NOCESSATY expenses luxuries of managed to cover thelr did not indulge in sort. “That they any horse was a thoroughbred,” Peiffer, his keen eyes still fixed on the boy's white, distressed “I paid s'x hundred dollars for day before you broke his horse jumped the fence and fell over here by himself.” “It wouldn't be right to let him thiok that,” returned Stuart, to tell.” “Six hundred dollars!’ his face growing “Oh, Mr. Peiffer!” gasped poor whiter still, The narrative states that he is wel to him. Many people who have ob- totally blind, but he has been put under i i i i muss, too, I suppose,” per. said Ben Hop- clove to the roof of his mouth. *““Y ou haven't any money I suppose?”’ of you, There's no need of it that I can see,” “And I can't see that there's any- thing to be gained by telling Peiffer,” ‘It to life again, What's the use of being wered Steart, “but I'm not a coward. *“*No, sir; not a dollar.” “You must work it out, then, “Very well; Il see what | minute, It's all I can do.” “Oh, you'll think better of it,’ said from the neck of the dead horse. “A night’s sleep will cool you off,” among the weeds and stones below the bridge, and when morning came it found his resolution unchanged, Mr. Peiffer turned away, and without into the closed the door, that he cannot see, he said: “When in a train at full speed pastime, br to determine our speed. course I do not see them, but I perceive them. It is perception. Of course my impaired on account of my blindness, never in total darkness, There is ing me.” A practical test was made, A thick, heavy cloth was thrown over his head on all sides to his waist, “He Then before him or behind him, tered not, an ordinary walking cape through it. answer to the inquiry: dinary sense of sight seen an object in all about that piece of “Mr. worth of the horse out of you before he lets you go,” was Mrs. Willard's first in that way. one that I have dark it is, I can tell you the dimensions of the room very closely. 1 do not feel will touch nothing; but there is communicated to me by some intended to confess what he had done, i | i i j That Mr. Peiffer would be very severe he did not doubt for a moment, Per. the offense was very great, He looked so white and haggard when he came down stairs at 8 o'clock that his mother uttered an exclamation of alarm, “You're sick, Stuart,’ she said; ‘you can go straight back tobed, I'll attend to the cow,” But Stnart shook his head and went out to the stable to attend to the cow himself. He had not told his mother about his misfortune, for he did not want to worry her. It would be time enough to tell her when he had seen Mr. Peiffer That she might not suspect that something had occurred to trouble him, he tried to eat his usual allowance of griddle cakes at breakfast, but every mouthful seemed to choke him, and he had to give up the attempt In despair, As soon as he rose from the table he put on his hat and went out, despite his mother’s prophecy that the sun would make him feel worse, and turned his steps at once in the direction of Mr, Peiffer’s beautiful suburban residence, He had prepared a little speech with which he intended to begin his confes- sion, but every word of it fled from his mind when be entered Mr, Peiffer’s grounds and saw the old gentleman standing only half a dozen yards away, and an angry look on his face and his eyes glaring at a young negro who stood before him looking sallen and defiant. “You needn’t deny it, sir,” were the first words Stuart . I wouldn't believe you on oath. You're the dull est fellow I ever had around my stables, but I du think you had sense h o put the bars up when you a uable horse like that out to pasture! You're discharged, and you needn't ask Jora recommendation, for I won't give With a heart that seemed lke a lump of lead in his breast, and hesitating footsteps, Stuart approached the angry Xx i. Peiffer,’ he said, in a low, shaken voice, ‘I want to speak to you, sir,” i , i right in going straight to him with the whole story, my son. Stuart was deeply touched by his mother's praise, and the consciousness that he deserved it made him almost happy, in spite of the load on his heart, It was a load that grew less with In this way he learned every detail of the business, It was very hard at first, of course, for Stuart's great fault stood in the way of his progress. But no one could be lazy very long where Mr, Peiffer was, he was such an energetic, industrious man himself, and he seemed to take particular pleasure in pushing Stuart along. Stuart ascribed this at first to malice, and a desire for revenge; but he thought differently when he knew Mr, Peiffer better, He found that a kind heart beat under that exterior, and that the old gentleman appreciated at their full value the virtues of truth, sincerity and manliness, It was two years before the subject of the debt Stuart owed his employer was mentioned between them. Then one day Mr. Peiffer called the young man into his own private office, “1l've been expecting for some time that you would speak to me about that six hundred dollars you owe me, Wil- lard,” he said; **but you have not men tioned It.” “I felt sure you would tell me when I had worked it out, sir,” replied Stuart. “If 1 say I consider the debt paid now, you will be wanting to leave me, I su "" sald Mr, Peiffer, “Not if you want me to stay, sir, 1 shall not go to school again. I am 18 years old, and it is time I to help my mother. I'll stay here if you want a short laugh, we to do so, sir,” Pole Br. Willard, when . 8 Ww that I ould pes know as well as I The day along without you, now, ks poo bra honest or He then related that being in New in 1871, he walked from Union street, a long distance, with several turns, and did not make a miss, He said: *'I knew the house when I came to it. I did not see it, and yet 1 did. 1 ing is very good, I expect to become an expert. writing at first, but write very well.” Another remarkable illustration of his power to see without eyes in this: If one makes motions in the air like beating the time for a choir, but de. scribing phonetic characters, he tells the characters and interprets them. What might be termed a ‘‘crucial test” of this was given the Herald reporter. Mr, Hendrickson further said: “I'm a very good skater, and can, when glid- ing over the ice swiftly, see every par- ticle on the ice, every crack and rough spot, no matter how small and indis- tinct, The faster I go, the plainer I can see, Well, I don't mean that I can see, but I perceive, or something, It is light to me, and 1 discern every- thing.’ am now able to BE — Ss One Glass of Wine. A glass of wine, for instance, chang- ed the history of France for nearly twenty years, Louis Philippe, King of the French, had a son, the Duke of Or- leans, and heir to the throne, who al- ways drank only a certain number of glasses of wine, because even one more made him tipsy, On a memorable morning he forgot to count the number of his glasses and took cne more than usual, When entering his carriage he stumbled, frightening the horses and causing them to run. In prompting to leap from the carriage his head stry the pavement and he soon died. That glass of wine overthrew the Orleans rule, confiscated their y of £20,. 000,000, and sent the whole family into nn mw —— FASHION NOTES, A —————" —— ~-Black lace hats and bonnets are high in favor for half-season wear, and are brightened by a cluster of velvet jouquils or pansies of golden hearts, or & gold-colored bow, ~ Very mew bonnets are of buckram, black, white or colored, with the mew gold paesementerie in leaf designs sewn thickly over it, or else gold fili- gree or fine gold spangles, ~Ching crepe, duchesse lace, shot gauze or tulle, frosted with silver, are favorite garnitures for the golden hats and capotes, and soft Lips aud crushed roses the correct adjuncts, ~The fountain brooch—a lion's head of enamel with a falling diamond for water—and the dog’s bead of black onyx with collar of pearls, are more striking than pleasing in new jew. elry. Mandolin and zitner music, in the next room or the hall, 1# part of the en- tertainment at fashiopable New York dinners, high teas, and the little sup- pers where there are only a few chosen guests, —Pinked flounces begin to rage and the correct width is from five to eight | inches, The lowest one should go all round, as a f(inish to the skirt, whether or no the drapery allows it to be seen. — . ~Jace 18 now used as a skirt trim- ming in flat, lenglhwise bands in { double rows, with the poluls meeting stuff overlapping it. portion of the skirt. A pleasing va- edge in square tabs. points or scallops. —Checked and striped colored hand- kerchiefs are being received with some degree of favor, Ladies of refined tastes, however, prefer white handker- | chiefs, or those with delicate colored | embroidery, for use upon all occasions, — Among the newest shades of color | are malatesta, a warm russet brown; green, osage, a dark blue gray, heart of the sea rose, a pecubar pink, for evening wear; and Cordova. a pale golden shade of terra celta, Paris, is a Jong redingote of long gray wool, falling straight and plain over a pleated skirt of gray silk, and with wide woolen revers, rolled back | gray silk. ~The jersey has taken a new lease | fitted back, blouse front and deep and ribbon walstbands, is the favorite bodice for wearing out skirts whose waists are utterly passe, — Full waists of bright-eolored wool of black velvet, are worn by young { ladies with various skirts, and make very effective home dresses, Some- times. instead of using velvet, the dec- | orative portions are heavily braided {| with some contrasting color. ~Newmarkets for traveling wear brown, or for very young women sleeves and collar, pockets, culls, bait contrasting color. ~The shape in hats that has been popular all winter and will still be worn for early spriog and summer traveling is the round hat turned up at the back, the trimming of ribbon, vel- | vet loops and feathers placed there and falling well over the crown, — Feminine hairdressing in Paris | now strictly follows a code according to be turned back loosely from Lhe face, {so as to form a golden aureole; dark locks must be parted down the centre and smoothly arranged; chestnut tresses may be piled high on the bead in Japanese style, with a few curls straying over the forehead. —Plain velvet will always remain the handsomest of all stuffs; but at | present, unless for a lady of mature | age, & costume is fno Jonger made ex- ciated with Louis Quinze brocade, with moire antique, either figured or | plain, or perhaps with fallle francaise | that has flowered stripes; this combi- nation makes it a costume which can be worn until! May, since it is ne longer a velvel dress. For a train dress the train is made of velvet, and some of Lhe pleats inserted in the silk breadths which complete the skirt. A of the corsage is also made of velvet, sometimes the entire back, or only an insertion for the beck, a plas tron for the front and part of the sleeves, ~Cloth tailor-made dresses have is object has been attained in recent costumes, and It must be a joy to wear them. The dress is made upon twilled silk, the drapery raised here and there but not edge finished with many g : A i HORSE NOTES, — Walter Rollins, the trainer, has ree turned to Jerome Park from Hos Springs. —Stuyvesant, with $14,165 to his credit, heads the Glengarry list of winners for 1887, The question of constructing a» straight-away course at Monmouth is being discussed. ~A. A. Darden has eased the Nor- folk (Va) Driving Course, located about two miles from the city. ~May 8, 9,10 and 11 are the dates chosen by J. H. Phillips for a spring meeting at Suffolk Course. ~The breod-mare Alert, dam of Rick mond, dled at Daniel SBwigert’s Eimendorf Btud, in Kentucky b, aged 21 years. —The American Jockey Ulnb has opened the great Titan stakes for 2- year-olds, to be run at the autumn meeting. — Milton Young, of the McGrathina Stud, has sent the famous mares Spinaway and Wanda to be bred to Spendtkrift, ~Captain Brown has the 4-year old Sunbeam and nine > year-olds in train. ing at a farm thirty miles north of Louisville, —dJ. B. Haggin, Radcho del Paso, Cal., has lost the bay mare Twilight, foaled 1875, by Norfolk, dam Kale Gift by Ledi, —dJd, Prior, of Providence, BR. 1.. has purchased the chestnut gelding Earl, { 2.204, by Bevenue, from Ulton Bros, | of Merchantville, Vt, ~The horse Count Luna, Price, the owner, and Tribe, the jockey, ruled off at New Orisans about two weeks ago, have been reinstated. | Three weeks racing will be given | by the Directors of the Ohio Centsu- | mal, which will open at Columbus on | September 4 and close on ( Jetober 19. i | ~There will pe a trotting meeting at {the Pimlico Course September 10 to { 15, under the auspices of the Maryland | Agricultural and Mechanical Associs- tion. —John Splan was in Philadelphia. It {is sald that Splan ‘will drive Harry | Wilkes and the rest of the Sire Broth- | ers’ horses this year, in place of Frank | Van Ness, ~—Torpedo, prematurely reported as { purchased by Clay & Woodford, bas { not been accepted by the gentiemen {named owing to his having burst a | blood vessel iu the head. —Hon. Oden Bowie, of Baltimore, {has leased the stallion Priam (by | Prophet, out of Regardless, by Eclipse) i i | ris, —Percy Talbot has farmed Astral, 2.18, by August Belmont, and Montana | Maid, by George Wilkes, ‘to Wilson & Handy, of Cynthiana, Ky., who will | breed them to Sultan. ~EAd de Cernea has sold the bay | mare Belle of Pottstown, by Harold, | dam by Wade Hampton, to D. Demar- | est tor $1200. She is 6 years old, and trotted the Pottstown half-mile track jin 2.344. — Agnes, by Gilroy, the property of Mr. Rufus Lyle, has been one of the most profitable bLroodmares in Ken- tucky. Her owner in the last few years has realized $16,000 by the sale of | her produce, | —=I1% is rumored that Robert Swigert, {the well-known young thoroughbred breeder and owner of Insolence and other flyers, will shortly wed Miss Armstrong, a wealthy heiress of Chil. | licothe, O, — Alfred deCordova, President of the Driving Club of New York, purchased | recently at Flushing, 1. L., the stallion | Mountain Boy, a brown horse foaled | 1882, by Kentucky Prince, dam Elise, ~The frst week in March the New Jersey Assembly passed the bill prohib- | iting racing in that State during De- | cember, January, February end March. | It is thought that the bill will be killed | in the under House. —Dr. M, W. Case, of Philadelphia, | has boughtof Mr. Kenten the 4-year-old | pacer Our Boy, by Diamond, he by | King Wheeler, dam Lula Grant by | Pacolet. Qur Boy paced a mile over the | Nashville track last fall in 2.274. —T. N. Muller's running horses that | have wintered at Point Breezes are: Ten | Booker, 5 years; Himalaya, © years: | Harry Russell, 5 years; Pendenals, 4 | years; Alan Archer, 3 years; Lady Archer, 2 years, and Clay Pate, 6 years, ~The projected racing meeting at St. Paul has been abandoned owing 20 the apathy of the public, It haviag been found impossible to subscribe the amount needed to offer anything like the purse to attract a good class of hor- : (foaled 1871), by Blue Bull, 's Abdallah, died Pb. Sha : H 111