. A Thousand Cheers, A thousand cheers for the blighted life, The lonely one~ wa daily meet, The sad, sad lot—a knight in the strife Is trodden down by rapid feet, He needs our band in the neartiess race, The voice of love might calm his fears, Qar smile might brighten his care won face, Inspire his life with a thousand cheers. A thousand cheers for the sewing giril With her tired Lands and her heavy heart Though pure in sonl-.unknown in the whic Of movey-makers in city mart. O beautiful lower on the toilsome path, OQ jewel rare for the weary eyes, O thought sublime that her toiling hath A thousand cheers from the starry, skies A thousand cheers for the honest boy, Unlearned in schemes of fame wealth, Whose steps are heralds of restless joy— | The restless joy of rugged health. | The clouds may shadow, some sunny day, | This picture gilt with morning light, But honor on earth still finds a way i And room emough for a deed of right, | ang A thousand cheers for the man of might! | Who bravely strives when others full, Who marches on to the losing fight When rights go down and wrong prevail, The man who bears the scorn frown i And Censure’s bitter blasting breath, Receives at last, a dear-bought crown, | A thousand cheers at the gates of death i and thy A CRUEL WRONG AVENGEL | On the piazza of a spacious residenc | on the plantation of Mark Denham, i Alabama, sat two gentlemen in earnes conversation. The elder was aboui| forty years of age, the other but twenty: | three. The former was the owner ol the plantation, and the young man, | Louis Hirst, was a visitor in the vicin- | ity; he had seen Eis Denham, the] piece of Mr. Denham, a beautiful bra. | mette of twenty, and fallen in love with} her, She loved him in turn, and he | was now asking her uncle's consent tc the union. A peculiar smile lit up the | feats es of the planter, which he soughi | to conceal from the pleader, He faced the young man and said: *“I'ne significance of your words, as 1 understand them, implies that you wan! the girl for your wife?” Hirst inclined his planter continued: ; “Well, young man, I cannot say thai I have any objections to the match. | suppose you have seitled matters be tween yourselves?” he asked, and again the peenliar triumphant smile illumined his features, “Yes, sir,” was the respopse, *‘and she reierred me to you.” “And very proper, {00,” Denham re jomed. “You have my consent; bul before you wed her you should be lei] into a litile secret of her pedigree—i secret she does not know berself, I be | Heve,” “] think I have heard that whiel | yd reser to,” was the smilivg rejoin. der. i “Indeed!” exclaimed the planter, iv surprise. *‘I cannot believe it,” | “You refer to the flight of Ela’s/ father after that fatal duel, ten year ago, do you not?” asked Hirst, *Nn; that is a trivial matter in com. | n to what I have to reveal. Lis. | ten, I will relate the story in a few words, You have, I presume, observed the handsome quadroon Woman wo officiates as housekeeper in the fami y?” *Yes, and a handsome, as well as’ intelligent and refined woman she ap- pears to be,” rejoined the young man, quite unprepared for what was coming, “She 18 Ella Denham's mother I” | “My Goal” cried the young man, he started to his feet As he uttered this exclamation a fein wail echoad 1t behind him, snd Lazo the alleged mother of Ella, stepped ous upon the piszza and stood before them, “Do you doubt my words?” Deabam | asked the stricken lover, as he sat with | his face buried mn his hands, Hirst made no response, “Because, if you do, here ia hes mother to verify my statement,” the planter continued. { Hirst looked np and gazed at the) woman in 8 dazed manner for a mo | ment, thea hoarsely sskea her if it were trae? ! “That I am Ela Denham’s mother? Yes,” was the reply. “And her father?” asked Hirst, “hichard Denham,” replied the wo | head, and the § man. “And Ella was born-—when?" almost whispered the anguished young mam “In 1857, three years before the re. bellion.” i “Were you a slave then?” “I was,” replied Lizzie, and at » signal from Mr, Denham the quadroon | glided into the house, i *‘well, Mr. Hirst, when shall the wedding be?’ asked the planter, in » mocking tone, and he no longer strove to conoesl the triumphant expression that now lit up his whole race. i “Sir; you insult mel” cried the young | map, starting to his feet again, i “Don't want to marry a slave, eh?’ “Mr. Denham,” was the indignant response to this taunt, “I took you for » gentleman, but I now see my mis | e, Denham flamed up at these words, | and, striding up to the young man, he | hissed these words in his face: “The same mistake, perhaps, J made | when 1 took vour father for one fifteen ago. He was my neighbor, and devilish means he enticed me to re. sort to the gambli rained me. He 4 tis ill-gotten Es When Denham arose to his feet he wore an expression that boded no good to the young man; he was about to fol low after his assailant, whou a low voice ered: “Uncle, I want to speak to yon.” “I wiil see you after I have chastised that scoundrel,” was the hasty response, and the next moment he disappeared, Denbam did not return until a late hour; whether he and Hirst had met was not known; nor was it known what transpired in the interview between the planter and his mece, It was prolonged until past mydnighi, and, acccrding to the testimony of the it was a stormy interview; violent words were nsed by both, but When all wgs quiet the aflrighted servants retired. In the morning they fonnd their master dead 1n bed—stabbed mn the heart, Ella Denham was awakened and ap. prised of what had occured, and she at once denounced l.ouis Hirst as the murderer, She hastened tw inform the authorities of the tragedy, stating that her uncie and Hirst had had a serious quarrel the previous evening, during which the young man kuocked down Mr, Denbam, and that in was her firm belief that Hirst was the assassio, lhe young man was jaken into ous. tody at his hotel, just as he was on tha sve of departure for his home in Phila- deiphis. He expressed both surprise and horror when he learned what had sccurred, but smiled disdainfully when told who was his aceuser, Before a magistrate, the girl repeated what she had witnessed, but did not positively deciare that Hirst had killed her upoie, but wus impressed with that belief. Hirst stoutly denied the killing, and said he was willing to swear that after he parted fromm Denbam, after their quarrel, he went directly to his hotel and retired. That night he slept in a felon’s cell, Next morning, Ella Denham was miss ing, and the greatest consternation pre- valled among the servaats, who sought for ber everywhere in the vicinity with. out success, She had disappesred and left no trace behind her. Why she went away snd whither she had gone The eoroner’s jory found Louis Hirst guilty of the murder, and the young man was remanded for trial, When the deceased's affairs were ex. amined it was discovered that the plan- tation really belonged to his exiled This was attesied to by the attorney who conveyed the estste, in of Richard, hus brother, said estate to become the exclusive property of Ella Denham, dsughter and only child of the exile, when she attained her major. ity. Where Richard had bidden himself was known to few, il any, save, per- haps, Mr. Barbour, the sitoroey. conjectured, but it was presumed she knew where her father was and had probably joined mm. Bat the cause of her abrupt departure was a mystery, It it had not been for the mot that she and her uncle lived on most amios- ble terms, her hasty flight would oer- tainly have looked suspicious and ine clined the neighbors to think that she, instead of Hurst, had committed the murder, At the trial that followed, Hirsl's counsel had subj wosed Lizzie, the quadroon, as a witness for the defense, aud truly her evidence created a sensa- tion in court. It appeared that Mr. Mark Denham had her in his power——tone resson she would not give, however, Presuming that he compeiled her to assume the position of mother to the girl, Hirst believed to be a slave, tainted with African blood. “I nursed Ela from early infaney,” the witness said, *‘Her mother died dizectly after her babe was born, avd sho was & white woman, I was in the parior and heard the whole conversa- tion between Louw Hirst and Mark Denham, 1 was instructed by the latter to appear at a certain stage of the oon- versation and proclaim that I was Ella's mother, I did not know that the poor girl was also a secret listener to the foul slander Dinham uttered against her until 1 feit my hand seized by her's sank insensible at my feet, “After I had played my part on the piszza, I returned to my poor charge I undeceived her and told her the truth, This aroused her sager to a pitch of and she swore sbe would avenge the outrage, “1 endeavored to appease her, and pointed put fo her that no harm wes dove, now that the eslumnistor had been properly chastised by Hirst, who, himself, would probably return to his northern home, and po one would re. peat the scurrilous story.” “Properly punished!” cried the girl in scornful tones, ‘do you eall being simply knocked down proper punish ment for so strocious & slander? You shall seo what I deem a proper punish ment for such & dasterd.” “That night after Denham returned from his search for Hirst, be and E in had hot words about it, but their natare 1 did not learn, However,” continued she, “wuen I found in the morning that Devham had been killed during the who insiantly disappeared in the crowd, The letter was addressed fo himself, written in a besntifui feminine hand, He opened it, looked at the signature and saw the name of E Ia Denbam, Hastily thrusting the letter into his pocket ho weout to tis hotel and tm the privacy of his room he read its con ienis, This is what he rena: “Bir—tad you come directly to me ater that loul slander was foisted upon you by my uncle, and manifested sym- pathy for me on sceount of that ‘acci- lent of my birth," I wighi have for- given yon even though you abandoned me afterwards; that would, at least, anve been acting a wmaniy part, Bat, instead, yon be ieved the ‘coined lie,’ though uttered by an avowed enemy, snd cowardly fled without seeing me or wking for an explanation, If von have iruly loved me you are now fitly pun- ished since you have the assursneo ihat Iam no ‘negro.’ Bat even were we to meet hereaflter—wihich 18 not likely —~1 shall never recognize you, bear that in mind, I know you did not kill my uncle, but to satisly my ont. raged leelings I caused your arrest, I 3id not choose to have your blood upon my soul, snd had you been coudemued [ would have proclaimed myself as the person who took the life of the miscre- aut, who, to gratify a petty spite he had against your father, would have imola- led me on the altar of lus unholy re- venge! Bat I sm amply revenged for the foul wrong be would have put upon te, and [ do pot regret the set, You may make whatever useyou see fit of this voluut ry confession; its promulgstion cannot harm me, for 1 am lost to all who knew me in Montgomery, and they shall never see me again,” With a saddened heart the young man went home with that chasteuing letter close to his heart, He kept her secret, for he now doubly loved the spirited girl who was lost to him for- aver. But the matter was not to remain a secret in spite of his resolve to shield the girl he loved, Lizzie called on the mayor and made a voinatery statement that Mark Denham fell by her hand, On being closely questioned she en- tered into the details of the murder in 80 concise a manner that not a doubt arose as 10 her guilt, She was arraigned and subsequently committed for trial, and the affar was widely published in the papers. Boveral days before her inal was to take plsce the suthorities received a letter from Elia Denham, in which she boldiy procisimed herself! ss the mur. derer of her uncle, anid gave her res- sons for committing he deed. Desham had blasted her hopes of happiness by eoining a cruel le, whereby she was forever separsied from the man she loved, and such a wrong could only be condoned for with the blood of the wretoh, The trial of Lazsie took plsce, but it was a farce, notwithstanding she vehe- meutly declared that she, and not Ella, bad killed | 'ombhan; that the girl meant only to shield her from harm, The girl bad said the same words in her letters—namely, L sue confessed the murder only to ahieid Ela, whom she loved better than life, Bue wound up in these words, which decided be jury in their verdict: “I bad a powerful motive for what 1 did. What motive had poor Lizz? None whatever,” It appeared that the woman's only spprebension was that her sriing woald be arrested and perbaps ban jed for the arime, henes her coufession, Eila never returned to her late home and the property was disposed of by the attorney, the proceeds of whioh doubtless reached either Ela or ber “sther, An Old Drinking Cap. A silver drinking cup which formerly belonged to Frederick the Great has just been sold at Berlin for two thousand roubles. The cup was presented tc Frederick by his troops, and be drank out of it on his last battlefield. There are inscriptions on it of the names and dates of his great victories, and it is in all respects a rare curiosity. The Ger- man ambassador offered the late owner five thousand ros bles for it some years ago, but he then refused to sell it New Telenhane Device, A new device Liss been invented for telephone stations, They are so con- structed that a person wishing to use them enters a box, and on depositing a nickel in the fare Lox a clock indexes his entrance and be 18 permitted to otcupy the box five minutes. At the expiration of that time he must leave the box, or, if he remains, he must pay a second fare. Should he decline pay. ing the fare he is belted witliin and the machine telephones the fact to the cen tral office. Then he must remain until released by a messenger from said offices, These boxes are designed for cigar shops, drug stores and such places ace cossible to the public. AIO Whoever takes a little child into his lors may bave a very roomy heart, but that chia will 6D a all, 1 he children that are in the world keep us from growing old and cold; they cling to our garments with their little hands and impede our progress to action: with their pleading eyes ful pleture; but a hovel with a face in it 18 robbed of ita desolation, A 10,000 inhabitants, “saving lost mach of its importes se a8 » commercial enfro- pot by the opening of the Mexican Rail- way from Vera Cruz to the City of Mexico via Orizaba. Such another odd old town can scarcely be imagined, Grass grows rankly in ail its stony streets, which straggie up and down the deep hillsides, w.ading in and out with labyrinthine erookedness, Its low casas, clinging to the heights, are all of solid stone -plainer without than those of Vera Cruz, buat more hand- somely decorated withing all appareutly built centuries ago, aud nothing but the sturdy vines that overgrow them has held their crumbling walls so long together, There is no squalid poverty in Jalapa, no filthy alleys nor unc. hovels. ly whitewashed as its canopy of roses will allow, and bordered with outside “dadoes” of bine, pink or yellow, The Hotel but delightful rookery, Moorish court filled with fountains, fowls strut and pigeons coo all day in the sleepy sunshine. picture to beliold—his swarthy face half bedecked with silver coins, and a dwg- crimson sash, The tiled floor of my apartment is, of course, carpetless; the little iron bedstead is berufiled like a Frenchwoman's; pitchers and waler- jara are quaint enough to drive a collec tor of ceramics crazy, and the wide un. and rude per shutters of solid maho- gany, which wood is here as cheap as pine, made ltke the doors of a bam. the stone window-ledges are wide enough to admit several chairs; and in this safe but slightly dim aleove 1 spend most of the quiet days with book or penas, Outside at this moment, 1 see a lepero slesping peacefully in the sun- shine—for in this enchanting pave the main thoroughfare, is lazily cutting grass for his donkey with a machete somewhat longer than himself, These macheles (enormous knives, much resembling Roman swords) are worn by all the natives bereabouts, and are the universal implement for every purpose, domestic or mechanic, peaceful or mur- derous. You might search the sale great State of Vera Cruz for a rake or a hoe, and find wone, even among the ranchers; but these huge knives are as common as canes among the dudes of New York, throughout Southern Mex. fco, Yucatan and Central Amenca, hough they are unknown in the North. ern States, Doubtless, mn an earlier day, they were essential for defense, and for cutting paths through the tropic wilds—und, among these unreasoning people, a habit once formed descomds from father to son forever. In quiet Jalapa no sound of wiieels is sver heard, and probably a carriige was never seen here, for these sleep streels, 4s tiresome as pleturesque, were con- structed long before such vehicles had been thought of. The backs of mules «nl Indians serve all purposes for which carts are usually employed, and horse. back riding is an unfaillag delight, for some of the finest views in the world are obtained from the surrounding bills, The only drawback to unalloyed enjoy- ment in these otherwise perfect days is the frequency of chipi chips, as the light drizzling showers are called: and +ven these are blestings in disguise, for hey keep vegetation perpetually at its jnantity.” Of all the queer plazas, junit market places and charmingly rrotesque old churches it has been my rood fortune to find, those of Jalapa war off the palm. All the ancient stone anctuaries have curtously shaped roofs, vith towers and buttresses, having been silt in days when churches served for orts and places of refuge, as well as for purposes of worship, Among other iandmarks belonging toa half-forgotten poch is the old monastery of San Fran. cisco, built in 1555, looming up amid bloom and beauty like a ghost of the gloomier past. Its walls are apparently bomb-proef, but that wing which was formerly occupied by the Inquisition was rent in twain by lightning not many years ago, and the ghastly wound remains asa sign from heaven that such wills shall be practiced no more, The Franciscan Convent, built by the conquerors for the benefit of the early Jalapans, is now eounverted into a col. moldering stairs that wind up its lofty steeple it is well worth the trouble of chmbing them fur the sake of the match. less view to Le gained from the summit. Che courtyard of the convent is Spun massive E 11 i i ih i Ee tinehe— GHANPIED plugged colin taken In at the stations, aud refused at the banks, as well as the | foreign com. He also buys up the { mutilated silver, nickels and coppers I that are dropped by absent-minded | pascengers into the gate boxes. There | are many persons who, on getting thelr | change with a ticket at the window of | the ticket office, will carefully put the | ticket in their pockets, and will drop | their change in the toll-coilector’s box. { Some ladies drop their pocketbooks in, while they hold their ticket with great ‘ care, Inside of each box there is a | eylinder full of teeth, and when a plece i of coin gets into the receptacle below, {it has two holes in it or is chipped at | the edges, Every day the mass of | mutilated tickets is overhauled in the main oflice before being sent into the { waste, snd there coins are sifted out, From $5 to £50 a day bave been picked out in The money 18 Bo mutilated that it cannot be passed, and it 18 sold to the old colin man for about 70 cents on the dollar. this way, T.is curious speculator sometimes ! carties away $000 or $700 worth of such He calls himself a **money dress- | er,” a business which he insists is just legitimate as that of a ‘‘coffee | polisher,” or a dry goods dresser, He | beats out the twisted and bruised coin, | cleans the soiled copper, brighteas the foreign coin, and goes on his tour to dispose of his goods. The foreign money is sold to the stewards of foreign vessels, and the poor American coin is { worked off at the cattie vards and sent put West, Much of it finds its way into the hands of the cowboys, who spend it as freely as though it was fresh from the Mint, The “money dresser” searches his purchases very carefully, and occasionally finds an old coin that pays him severud hundred per cent, profit when resold to collectors of rare 0oing, “Do you make a living in this way?’ “Indeed I do, and 8 very nice Living, OO coin, HE A PRAIRIE ON FIRE. A Thrilling Experience of a Cleveland Hunter on the Texas Plains. A praimne on fire 1s a sight seldom seen oy people at the present time, Mr. B. P. Gardner of the County Auditor's office, tells of a thrilling experience he had not ong ago while hunting on the plains of Texas, “ We left the railroad and journeyed into the interior of the great State on gid Mr. Gardner, “with the tall waving grass on every side as far We saw evid- from time to made up our minds that we would see none of the flery element itself. One Bunday we stopped for the day at a point about 500 miles from any railroad. We proceeded to make ourselves come fortable for the day, for we were very tired and we intended to take a good After breakfast we stretched om with the horseback.” as the eve could reach, of small; fires but mee time, we had rest, selves out on our blankets, ponies tied a short distance away, and All at once we heard a terrible noise like distant thunder, up saw a sight we stiall never forget. Th were taking it as easy as we could, and jumping we prairie was fire as far as we could see the flames shot Wl deafening roar. and the us with the the air with a was lowing up in The wind fire Was Coming owarus swiftness of a railroad. Looking in the opposite direction from there ! was nothing to be seen but grass, grass, grass, There was no way of escape. | The roar of the fire became louder and i Jonder every minute, Birds went scream- | ing by, terrified by the sight and sound, and almost every kind of game a person could think of went pell mell past us gereaming, booting, barking and screech. ing, caring for nothing but to get ont of the way of the fire, which was chasing them at a rapid rate, although it Was ; many miles away. Our old guide, who | had been around the prairies all his life, was frightened, much to my surprise, | He cast his eye upon the fire and then | away upon the waving sea of grass be- yond, and seid we must mount our ponies quickly and ride away before the fire as fast as we could. There was a trail about ten miles away, he said, and when we reached that we would be all | right. We mounted our ponies, but I | knew well enough we could not go five | miles before the fire would catch us. | The roaring Increased and it began to get warm, Birds and animals rushed | by us more frantic than ever. An idea struck me. Jumping from my pony I rushed out into the tall grass several hundred feet and started a fire. It went with a whirl and in a minute a space of three or four hundred acres had been burned. We worked with a will and soon had our ponies and effects in the middle of the bare spot. It was none too soon, for looking in the direction of the fire 1 saw it part at the point where we before, and the fire i i at wh FOOD FOR THOUGHT. St ——— Little troubles are the most deadly. The right kind of sugar never sours, Love is always willing to be crucided, Troubles always look big ata dis tance, Our power lies in the strength of our intuitions, Be'ore you can do much good, you must be good, Don’t do anything that will wound your conscience Kind words never die; unkind words don’t die either, Many a man signs his death rant with his teeth. In nothing else chunge as in man, There i8 no such word as light in the bi nd man’s dictionary. When the world can't understand & man it calls him a crank, Mot men take life as they find it, doctors in particular, It is vanity to wish to live long, and {0 be careless to live well, It is strange, but the dregs of a pot of *‘red palut’’ are always blue, Doing a wrong thing with a good motive does not make it right, One blind man can easlly prove to an- other that there is no sun. Love is tie only thing that can light en burdens by adding to them, Probably troubles never come singly beecaure misery loves compacy. How we do alimire the wisdom of those who come to us to ask tor advice When you want to see the crooked made straight, look at a railroad map, Every man eats, but it is only here and thee that you find ope who thinks, Suffering is always a consecration. It brightens and punifes, It is always our own feeling that #2 luminates the objects around us. Find a man who grows a little, and you will find one wio works little, The highest and most profitable les- son is the true knowledge of ourselves, Asa rule the less folly a man is cursed with the more he dreads hisown foolish- Less, No ope is useless In this world who lightens the burdens of it for any one oise, Woman possesses in good, as well as evil, an energy wich surpasses that of Loan, If you wan! to find the most misers- ble mau in the world find the most sl- tish ove, Knowledge is power, but it takes something more than bead work to ture & grindstone. How much easier 1t is to be pleasant to people of consequence than to those who are no account, There is something lovable in all people, if we could but stand whers we could see It. The man who can learn from the ex erience of other people isan apt scholar. It isn’t safe to judge a man by the clothes he wears—they may belong to his room mate. Now it is my nature to acoept every offer that means a wider outlook from & Ligler point of observation, ~~ He who does right from prineliple is jut pinety-four per cert. nlead of him who does right from interest, A man pever finds out how little he knows until his ebildren begin to ask him questions, Some persons have the luck of per- ceiving stupidities only after having committed them. if we ouly Xuew what our enemies have suffered ic would not be hard for us 10 be forgiving. Every sorrow bas its limits, and the most violent ontburdls exhaust most quickly the fountain of pain, We are never in earnest about any thing that we cannot occasionally get enthusiastic over, It is well enough for charity to begin at home, but it shouldn't stop there, It ought to be a gieat traveler. There are two kinds of people in the world, Those who have found that they are fools, and those who have ‘6 Fear makes man a slave to «thers This 1s the tyrant’s chain, Anxiety is a form of cowardice, smbittering life. First there occurreth to the mind a sinuple evil thought; then a me aginat on; afterward delight; and Jastly consent. How easy it is to feel generous when you get a chance to tell other people what they ought to do with their mooey, A good 1 of the trouble in this life comes because men ‘ake too much time » make money, and too liitle to enjoy The love of approbation, the desire to please, to be adm red, fo be Joved, Is in some way the cau-e of all heroic, self. denying and sublime sctions. A cynic has written: The hearts ~f mast men are like the prams In no, Where. the smile of an woman ” AY Jat enough to set It in Livirg only to get riches genera turns out like the bo’ who got the ed 161% nest, Just as he thought he had it be found out that it bad him. IT Is a common remark for a war. can there be such & man 0 It is the bubbling stream which flows BOO Se ice that Taber Tn ho swollen flood or
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers