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