Lines to the First Fly of 1H79. Dance on tny nose with you ' inkling loot. blue tsittle fly' Sing in my car* with your buss to greet Me. ns ir. VtHi will seek me out in my *lork retreat, With an eager zee) I hut no screen can tieat, Ami I try to slnp you clear into th sweet, Sweet, by-anil-bye. f haven't seen you since 'seventy -eight, Little house fly; Anil I see you now with the bitterest hale You can defy. Oh, how I lutte you, nobody knows, Author or hull of my summer woe**, Oh, how I prayed that you might be I rose, Villainous fly. All through the winter you did not lrcwse, Not much, Mary Ann. Now all the summer you'll do as you please, That is your plan. When, in the warm afternoons, we would sleep, Near us your wakefbleet vigils yon'll keep; Precious is sleeping, but waking is cheap, Sleep, man, it you can. Oh. how I wish that uiy two broad hands, Spread left and right. Stretched from tlx- poles to fciquator's lunula, Giant* of might. Some summer day in my wrath I would rise, Sweeping oil space with my lmiuls of sire, And smash all the uncounted million of flies Clear out of sight. Vain arc my wishes, oh, little house fly. You're hard to mash; Strongmen may swear ami women may cry, •Teething their gnash; But into the house your friends you'll lug, You'll bathe your feet in the syrtip jug, And your cures you'll drown in llie Iwbv's mug, Cheeky and brash. Still, precious lessons, dear little house fly, You leach to me. lluled or loved, you tell me that I Happy may tie. Why should 1 lore, wlmn 1 tickle a nose, Whether it* owner's eonduct shows That he like** it or hates it, just so it goes Pleasant to me. •This line should read: "Gnashing their teeth," Imt a little |sK-tic license waa Decenary to bring in the rhyme. Burlington Hau-kryt. TILT.Y. " Asked Tilly?" " Y*"s, actually I heard him myself Did you ever!" Miss Rosic Green, for an answer looked unutterable tilings. Miss l\>si* Green took oft her sundown and fanned herself vigorously with it. Sh*- looked warm; her faee was flushed with feeling no less than with the weather. She anil her sister w-r<- no longer as youthful as their names suggested. Moreover, irri tation brings out the lines and wrinkles of a face, and it is unquestionably irri tating to l- passed over for a slip of a thing with a doll-baby faee, not one's own flesh and hlfNsl at that. "* it's all pa's fault." Miss Rosie pur sued. presently. "He does spoil that girl so abominably. There will Ik- no enduring her presently." "I shouldn't Is one fiit surprised if Mr. Leonard makes so much of Iter just to please pa. Men are such time-servers. Of course it's to his interest to keep in pa's giHiil books." "There they go now!"' cried Mia* Reisi*- in an excited whisper, flying to the window, anti fs-eping through a crack in the shutter. " For goodness' -ake. don't give her the satisfaction of seeing you look at her." "I don't care whether site si-es moor , not —not a rush. Tiiat old pink calico •in! Ido tli ink sin- might have had t In decency to make herself look respecta ble. riding out with pa's young man." "Pa's young man! What away to put it!"i " Well, isn't he, for the present? He's reading medicine in pa's office, I'm sure, and In-takes the messages that are left, ami tells pa afterward. For my part. I think be is bound to be civil to pa's daughter's." W ell, In- is being civil to one of them." " Yea. That's the worst of the way pa treats Tilly. It's real unjust to us. Hateful little piece!"' A ease of cruel step-sisters, you are thinking. However, there was no tic either of blood or of marriage in this in stance. Dr. Green had adopted Tilly, brought her with liini when he moved to Wood bridge fifteen years ago. She was a mere baby then, and his wife was still living, and cared for th*- child like her own. She was a motherly soul, and loved babies. Hep own girls had left infancy half a scon of years behind them. Since h* r death lift- hnd not fx-en ■osmooth for Tilly. Perhaps th** Green girls would have hc*-n kind to another person in the same situation, but th*-y certainly made life a burden to their lit tle adopted sister. There is no account ing for likes and dislikes. It did not prove Tilly morally deficient because site aroused the worst feelings in Rosie's ami Posie's nature*. It is an unpiensnnt mystery why certain antagonistic na tures should Is- subjected to eertnin ex asperating frictions. There arc those wliotii it sets wild to fee I the down of the peach. Others bite through the skin with unalloyed enjoyment. Mr. l^-onard—lie hop*-*! to Ik* Dr. Leonard this time next year—drove a fast horse liefor*- a shining new buggy. It was a bright day. anil he had a pretty girl beside him. ills spirits rose to the level of the occasion. Tilly and lie laughed and talked in n way that would have driven Miss Posle frantic. I specify Miss Posie, because h-r sister had ac quired two or thn-e years' additional resignation in which to h*-ar th*' ills of spinstorhood; wall-flowering had be come almost a second nature. Hut Tilly laughed on regardless. She was happy. John I/Ponard was the handsomest, best mannered. the Ix-et-dressed young man she hnd ever 1 nown. and he had singled her out r hi i-speeial favor. She was willing to believe anything of an nuspi eious fate. John 1/onard compared her mean while to a wild rose, her hlooin was so exqnisitc, h<-r whole cffi-ct so dainty. Her large dark eyes were wonderfully bright and shining. I am afraid she wan quite unaware how much they •vowel as she raised tliein to John * face now and again. Prudence should have kept them averted. " I burned my finger to-day," she ■aid, displaying it, "taking the baked custard out of the oven." "Why. the poor little finger I And rach had stuff ** custard is, alter all." | "Do you think no? I'll likes it." "Yes. So did my mother. She al ways considered it iui csptwijl treat. I was a tender-hearted chap. It made me unliappy Itecausß I hated it; It seemed " "Pllly thought this delight (hi trait. •• We often have custard." she pursued. •It's so hard to think up new kinds ol desserts." , " And a great waste brains. •' l'erhaps it is. I often wish I had more time for improving my mind." •• You should take the time," dogma tised John. He had had it on Ids mind to say this. It struck him that Tilly's education was shamefully neglected. Site wrote a wretched, scratchy little hand; she stumbled in reading aloud an ordinary newspaper paragraph ; she had once committed herself to the opinion that Vienna was in France. It was strange that beauty eouhjMteso illiterate I —strange ami a shame. The poor child 1 was kept drudging from morning till : night, rooking, sweeping, dusting. Why didn't those two sisters of hers nut their ; shoulders to the household wheel P It l was all they were good for. Some one ; had said that Tilly was not old Green's <>wn child. The more fool she to wear herself out in his service; hut women ! were apt to he finds; they would slave ; themselves to deatli for any man who ] gave litem a kind word. At least so his I mother had always said. And old (iron was certainly affectionate enough to the girl. Poor little tiling, who | could help Isdng good to her? All tills, 1 while he kept up at the same time an ! animated conversation witli Tilly. Nor was that the last drive they took together, lie asked iter all the oftener when he saw it made the "wicked sis | ten," as he dublHsl them, angry. As it ! proved, lie askisl Tilly far oftener than was good for her. This was only an episode with him; with Tilly it was the most real experience of her life. John j IjConard seldom talked of his plans, hut slie had mappist out his career for him. When lie graduated in medicine he ! should become her father's partner, and finally relieve her father of the burden ! of Ids practice, and then—and then ! Tilly always herself shared these air | castles with John. This was a long, long time ago—he fore the war, almost; accurately, at the very breaking out of the war. Those drives occurred during the April and May when the first regiments were put in the field. At tirst John hunanl, who was an (Englishman. escaped th*- war fever. 1 >-t these brothers tight out 1 their own family quarrels. Hut gmdu , ally the soul of the war clarions "passed ; into his blood." He must have a hand lin this himself. A man must In* long somewhere. So he coolly informed Dr. Green one day that lie hail enlit*si; h<- was going to light f**r his shoulder straps. "As for my diploma. I'll wait awhile for that." The doctor told him he was mad, ami urgeil him at least to wait a year. Ilut much recked John; it is a waste of words to answer a young man except ac cording to his folly. John was an ardent Soldier hy this time. He had come to America to s**-k his fortune; perhaps the wav to it lay along the path of glory. When lie came to bid Tilly"good-bye, .she hurst out <r\ing. That settl*-*! the question as to their manner of farewell. M*' took her in his arms ami kissed her repeatedly. This was decidedly wrong, decidedly imprudent, although they werennfv affectionate, hroth'-rly kisses Missßosie cam*' in as lie released her. " Well, Matilda Green!" she cried, with an intonation that meant anything iuit well. Hut Tilly was too henrt-hroken to extenuate her conduct. She left that ,to John, who said, good-naturedly: " You'll give me a ki-s tyo, won't y*>u. Miss Rosie? Rctnemlx-r. you may never see tne again." Anti he actually kissed her t*si. lie ' wanted to put it out of her power to tease poor Tilly. She had been guilty *>t the same impropriety herself. Poor Tilly w'as wretched, wretched, after lie was gone. Hut she was huoyed up hy hop*-a and visions. She hall a brave picture, too, of John which lie sent her when lie was made a lieuten ant. Oh. how proud she was when that came! She never forgot that speech of John's about improving her mind. She trbsl hard to find time to do so H*t favorite method was the composition of letters to John, which were never sent, in the course of which she would lalsiriously liunt out in the dictionary nearly the words she wanted to Use, to insure their correct spelling. She also endeavored to find time to read such light lit*-rntiir as was contain*-*! in the weekly paper of the household. She read tit*- love stories, to be sure, with an especial -/est apart from their purpose as educators. They struck a kindred chord. One day John I*ennard received in camp a copy of this same pa|x-r- the Wood bridge ,NVi/-.. It ontaim-damark ed paragraph. "G*hml gracious!" ho said, reading it, "old Green's dead. How fearfully sudden!" His particular chum, Lieutenant Phil Rom, was standing lor. This gentleman was a cormorant of fact*—a trait which the thoughtl**s are apt to confound with curiosity; hut I contend that there is a difference between inouisitivenes* and acquisitiveness. Mr. Ross stretched out liis hand for the paper. " Old Green? Hum! ah. yes—Dr. Green! HyJove! * Philhrick Green, for merly of (reenhriT. New York.' I knew the man. I hail from Greenbrier myself. So he has turned up again, lias he? ' Wood bridge, Rockland county, Pennsylvania.' H*-*-n in Woodbridge. ell? What ever took you there?" "I studied medicine in Dr. Green's : office. There was an excellent opening for a country practice." " ls-t us see: he had two daughters— Rosie and P<sie." " Three." "The third waa only an adopted daughter. She accounts for my int*-rest in him. Her mother was a distant • ousin of mine. Is-ft a widow with three children, utterly destitute Sew*-d * for h*-r living. The Greens took a fancy to her little Tilly, and offered to take her •iff tier hands. She agreed, rather tiian let the child starve. The Greens moved away shortly afterward. The last time F was in Greenbrier (I run up there every summer to see my mother) I found that nty cousin had married—a very j w*-11-to-ilo man. too. Her other childr*-n had died meanwhile, and she had set h*r Mart ob reclaiming Tilly. Her husbaad had made inquiries for Ir. Green, hut to no purpose. He hnd made two or three move* since leaving Greenbrier, and no one knew where he ha*l moved to last. , My cousin was fretting herself sick. I can't say that I pitied her as much as though she had not given up her child of her own free will,To begin with. It always seemed an unmotherly thing to me. And here I have suddenly un earthed tlie girlt" " Luckily enough for her," John opined. " ltosh' and Punic will lead her a life of it, I daresay. They'll have it all their own way now, and a very un pleasant way it is, as 1 happen to know." "Had old Green, as you call him, any money P" "Should say lie had. I hope he has left, Tilly her share of it. She will get nothing by favor front those two close listed old maids that does not eotne to her by right." " I'll writ" to her mother this very day." "And I'll write to Tilly," John added. He wrote to the mother, too; he | seemed so anxious, as Phil said, to have I his linger in every corner of the pie that | Phil waived his rights of acquaintance* I ship and permitted his friend to tnake ! the disclosures to Mrs. Futon, Phil coll* ! tenting himself with inelosinga few lines ' to his cousin—indorsing John's moral character—in that young titan's own words. Speed''** came the answer. A very incoherent, agitated, short little note from Tilly, so badly penned and ex pressed as to be almost illegible and un intelligible. Hut John made out from it that she was very unhappy, and would hail any change with joy. Mrs. Fin ton's missive was blotted with tears. She hail evidently a talent for letter-writing, that is, for tin - writing of letters consid ered as essays. This one invoked bless ings upon John's head. It referred to the writer's past sorrowful life. It was ' a dirge. "She always had that whining xvay about her," Mr. Ilos* commented, after it. "Coddles her miseries, you know." Not long afterward arrived the news that Tilly bad gone on to her mother in Greenbrier- John breathed a sigh of relief. He had learned that Dr. Green had died intestate. His projierty hail gone to hi" legal heirs. It would have iH'en hard lines for Tilly, slaving all the rest of her days for those hard task-mis ttvsses, the " wicked sist'TS." The life long lx milage seemed inevitable to John's excited imagination. So several months passed. Then John applied for leave, on his doctor's ml vice, who said lie needed rest. It WAS a problem when'to spend it. He lind no mother or sisters to hasten to who would receive hint with open arms, and make each day lie was at home a holiday. He had distant relations in Fngiand, none in this' country. He would have gone to Wood bridge, as Ix'ingthe nearest approach to home, luwl Dr. (iron and Tillvstiil b<"cn there. He would like to sis - Tilly. She had cried when he had hidden her good bye. He did not think that any one '* 1 si ll ad shed tear* for hi sake since. Pxir little Tilly! Pretty little Tilly! He had a great notion to go to Gnrnhricr and look her up. He wantixl to find out whether she would lx- glad to sis- him. He went to Greenbrier. He found the decent, tidy little brick house where th<- F-It'ins lived. He was shown into a dark little parlor. The woman who ad mitted him went up stairs to tell Mi** Tilly so noiselessly that John thought she must he in her stock ing- feet. And when Tilly came down to him *he ap peared to have on list shoes. Fvery tliing about the house was mutfted " Mother has a dreadful headache." 'l'illv explained; "-lie suffers terribly with neuralgia." It was impossible not to *'*• that Tilly was extremely agitated. The hand slo gave to John was like ice, and trembled to hi* touch He almost seated Iter,still holding her hand, and she hxiking up at him with the old wistful look in h< r eyes. John was touched. HP always had liked Tilly. And, pxir little soul, how thin she was! Wa it j*>"iblc that she had only exrhang'sl one kind of lxindage for anotlter? She went out to the front dixir with him when lie left, and h" awthen in the daylight liow pale she had grown. Th" I little wild rose hail lost h'T hlonm. II" asked her to take a drive with liitn for til" sake of old time*. " You l'xik :is though you ti'ssled fnsh air." " Y'-s. 1 do not g't out often; mother is so ailing." (in th'* even ing of his last day in f Jrecn hri'T he had made up his mind that he wouid a*k her to marry him. He had very little doubt of h'T answer, px>r foolish child; for his own part he fancied he was In love with her. At allex-cnt.*. In* ought to lx- in love with some one by this time. Tilly was almost the only girl lie had ever known well. Hut fate interl'Ted with his intention. Mrs. Flaton was so ill that Tilly could not he spared from her side for more than live minute*. She ran down just to say good-bye. John rcsolvsl that he Would write instead, lie told Tilly he would waite. " And take care of yourself," he added. She did not cry this time, per son* who take an extreme view of human maladies would perhaps have said that she look'-d simply broken-hearted. When John did write, it was n differ ent sort of letter from the one he had plann'sl. On his return to camp lie was confronted hv a crisis in hi* life. A gay party from Washington rame down to dance and ftirt in the tented field in lieu of the conventional ball-room. Of it* number was Maud Ga.e, who, if experi ence gix's for anything, should have Ixs-n an adept in both dancing and flirting. A society girl par r.is-rUrnrr, but the first of the type who had crossed John lionn aril's patli. She had cultivated fascina tion to the full ext<-nt of her powers, and John fell an easy victim to her prac ticed wiles. He was hi-witched. What if her hair WTC blnndincd, and her skin were whitened and reddened, and her eyebrow * blackened? John was a* In nocent as a babe nlxuit these matter*. . To him Maud was radiant in all the fresh heatitv of young womanhood. Tilly? She faded in his thought by con- , trust Into such n mere dull little country girl. Still licwitcheil. he became engaged to Mattd. She reasons| tint she might do worse. She had weathered a good many Washington campaign.* now, j young a* she looked. Still bewitehisl, lie would have married her hail not fat' - Intervened. Had he done so. lie would , infallibly have rudely awakened from , hi* golden dream; but lie would doubt less have survived his disillusion, just as ; other ni'n and wonun have done lieforo ' him. He might have found comfort In the reflection that lie was no more wretched than other men who like hlni had married—for love. He wo* still madly infatuated, how ever, when his regiment was ordered into liattle—a battle which ended in a victory fir hi* side, hut which left, him in a condition hovering between life and death. He was desperately wounded; Mill—-boor fellow!—when they first told him that the amputation of his right arm was unavoidable, it seemed to him that he would rather die outright. A ! cripple! malno-d! lie thought of Maud and h'T strong, bright beauty with a sickening sensation id unfttness. HP lay at death's door for weeks. Part of the time he was too ill to recog nize any one. Only the tendrtrat nun ing, the most assiduous care, saved him. And when he finally opened his eyes to consciousness, upon what assiduous and tender nurse do you suppose they rested P It was incredible. Upon whom but g.-ntle, care-worn, ga/elle-eye<| little Tilly! "How on earth —" began John, then dropped oft' t.i sleep again. It had been almost a year now since he had seen this dewy woodland rose, lie had only written her one letter mean while, hut that letter hail been her heart's sustenance ever since. She hiuL laid it away among certain other meni ! oriea of hers— memories which retained their sweetness like withered sprigs of lavender. As the months sped hy she ' made up her mind that she would never I see John again—that he had forgotten her. This was her presentiment. Hut she did not blame John because he hud not proved all that she once hoped he would; that had been her mistake, but a mistake whi -h bad Iss-n also her one joy and romance. She called him her good 'angel. In the dear Hebrew phrase, lie hud ronie to her—as in truth every g.xxi friend comes to us—as an angel of God. During this weary while her mother died. 'I illy found herself without a tie in life. She might come and go as she pleased. There was a distinct desire in ner loving heart to do the one work for an unemployed woman just then. Hut it was some little lime before she gathered courage to carry out her wish to become a hospital nurse. The alarm ing first step once taken, she wegt on easily enough. And she found an im mense pleasure in thus living of use as she proved—and of comfort to many suf fering souls, j Tiie I'rovidenec which directs small matters as well as great, appointed her duties in a certain ward in a certain hos pital, where she eimie upon John lyon ard's white fact one day, as he lay stretched on his cot of pain, and she realized, with a sudden tumultuous , rush of feeling, that it was for h'T, hu manlv speaking, to tend him back to life. She felt as though this satisfaction more tllup eomnensat.sl for all that she h.'ul suflfer'sl—loneliness, neglect, disappoint ment —in the past. There was little romance about Maud (talc. She made some excuse for break ing her engagement as soon as she learned of John's misfortune. She had little faith in a one-ann.sl man's Ix-ing able to tight the battles of 111.- successfully. And stie.-ess meant to her more than a flection; one might fall in love many times over. John fortunately found that tie- cun for Ills disappointment lay in the nature of t lie .liap|xiinttnelit itself. ".So weak a thing! so w.-ak a thing!" So we come to the end. Tilly, con tinuing her round of blessed dllti'-s. was greatly surprised when John told IMT, not many months after that, that she was the one n'-cd of hi" life. She hail buckled down to work. When love come t" her suddenly, its voice was as a voice in a dream. Hut she lx-lievisl it —oh. how gladly' It i so easy f<>r youth to he happy, to forget' Mis Hale might hnv< marrh-d a dis tinguili's| man, after all. 1 >r. !>*inard gradtiated in his nrofe-sion inimisliately In-fore hi* marriage to Tilly, and hi* name hv this time is one that is well known aiming physicians.— Harper's III:ar. I nibrellas and Parasols. The umbrella, as a *un*shade, Ixiasts an antiquity great'-r by many s-nturies than that of the Christian religion. It •"■eni* to have had its origin in the ne eesiti'siif the tropical countries of the F..it, and was for many yi-ars u*<sl only lv tie rulers and those in high '-state, 'the original loriti* cenis to have Ixs-n somewhat similar to that with which all are fantilar, though in some '-outlines a *un-hade was al*o constructed in the form of a banner In whateviT form it was constructed, however, it was always ,' umtx-rsonie. and requinal. not only !<>r dignity's sake, but lor physical reasons is well, an attendant to earTV it. 11l (re* '• and Home the umbreifa or ion /•mrtiluui, as it wa eailed. was ipisj as a sun-shade by tlie wealthy, and was also still retained as a distinctive mark of royalty. l-ndics ha<l their maids ' arry these parasols over them during tlie day; even effeminate men ux-d the same prole, ijon from the strong rays ni the sun. The form of the parasol ap pears to have been very much like tliat which we use, but tlie covering was made of skin or leather, and could l>e closed and opened at will. An Fnglish writer, as lat' as IWH, d *eri!x-s the Ital an fans, and concludes with the infor mation that "tnanv of them do carry other fine things of" a far gn-atir pri'-e, that will cost at least a dllcnt (alxuit *1 37). which they commonly call in the Italian tongue umhr<Hot*, that is. things 1 that minister shadow unto them for shelter against the scorching heat of the sun. Th'we are made of leather, some thing answerable to the form of a little canopy, and hixitxsl in the inside with divers little wiHiden hoop* that exti'nd the umbrella in a pretty large compass 1 They are used especially by horsemen, j who carry tle-m in their hands when they ride, fastening the end of the handle against one of their thighs; and they impart so long a shadow unto tlieni, that it keepeth the heat of the sun from the upper liart ol their bodies." The umbrella flourished in other southern countries at the same time, and was not unheard of in F.ngland. though it had not been adopted into general ue. and was not even familiar to the tnasies of the people. Mention i made of it, how ever, as early as II6, and before the ; close of the seventeenth n-ntury the parasol had liecome considerably used. ! its introduction into Fngiand and F"ranee j apparently having come from" China, i as the fogin was somewhat similar to that u*wl in China and Japan. Tlie use of umbrella* a* defence* against the rain dhl not become general until late in the eighteenth century, though it had been used to some extent, exclu sively by laities, for many years previous. It was too effeminate a thing for men, and when Mr. Jonn* llanwny. in the Mreets of Istndon. lir*l had the iMildnesa to earrv an umbrella, lie was subjected to tin little ridicule, and it was some year* later Ix-fnrc any men, except the weak and sickly, had the temerity to use essentially feminine covering as a protection against rain. It is recorded that the first umbrella s'-en in (ilnsgow was brought there in 17*1 from Paris, ami was regarded with much curiosity. The first Fnglish umbrella* were made of oiled silk, and when wet were very diftleiilt to open or close. Tliestiek* and rib*, tixi, were very large and heavy, and altogether tlie umbrella was a de cldely clumsy nlf.ilr as compared with the latest Improved frame, with it* al paca or silk covering of to-day. The umbrella of two hundred year* ago, with a thirty-one-Inch rib, weighed three and a If*lf" pounds; one of the same size now weighs not over alx or eight ounce*. The Young Man with the Wringer. On# ilny about a week ago a nlim wast'sl young man with a clotlic* wring • r niulif liia arm attempted to open the gal" of a yard on Cass avenue. 11. had mail.- up liia mini! tlmi he could h.*ll I lie people II wringer, ami lie might have ue eomplihh<*<l Ills object hut for a dogniiout. Hh hig na It tohae.-fi hogshead, wlli.'ll stood waiting on I lie other side of t le gate for a elianee to taekle Home leg. weary agent. "I 11 call again," whispered the agent an lie turned to go, and lie meant just what he Hiiid. The pri-scnce of one dog did not diwourage him except for the moment, lie panned tip the street and in ian Imur returned to try again. There I win no dog there an he opened the gate, ! hut in ten weondn after the latch clicked ; a hundle of tis'tli and bones iliot around ; the corner of the house and the agent i shot across the road. I " Now, you mark my word*!" he said, ; an he shook the wring'-r at the dog, " I'll | get in there if I have t.i walk ov r your dead laxly!" lie meant it again, and in the after noon lie returned. He surveyed the yard from every point, had reasons to eon elude that the dog was down cellar. wnteWng for rat, and finally opened the I gate. School children who were watch ing say that the dog overshot the mark hy trying to swallow the agent and wringer at one gulp, and therefore got neither: hut it was nucha close sluive ; that the young man went round the cof ner minus his hat and fine coat-tail. He I did not return again hy daylight. Per haps it was hr who tossed the poisoned i meat over the fi*nee that night, and pcr liaps it was some young man who want ed to fall ill love with the good-looking girl in the house. Some folks may think the dog didn't find the meat, hut there are proofs to the contrary. The agent was on hand ahout nine o'clock the next morning, and to Ins great joy discovered the dog'- dead In sly lying in the yard. The |ioisou had done its work and he was free to announce the merits of his wringer to the waiting family. A hoy who sal on a 1.-nee -mv the .log'* eves open a little as the ag*tit paescd through a gate. He saw the dog softly get upon his feet after the agent had pascil the " body." H<* saw something iik'- a grin cross that canine's fare .* lie got lii leg- well under him, and then the lad fell off his r.xist, and only scram bled up in time to see a shadow .TOSH a • vacant lot. jumping clear over the tons of old thi*tl<-< and never minding the frog-ponds. The Ixiyhung around there till till- d"g had swallowed everything belonging to the wringer except on.- eog wh.s-1, and that lie buried alongside the fence to •' k'sj." for some future meal.— IHI mil Fret Pres.*. In Army OHlecr's Suicide. The mysu-ry of the suiei.fe of Lieuten ant farrow, of the Seventh I'nit.sl States fa\alrv, at St. loui*. was cleared up hy tic finding, among his personal effects, of a latter writb n by Ella Btank, daugh ter of Major-General Sturgis, of the I nlte.l Stat.-s Cavalry, and slst.Tto Cafe tain Jack Sturgis, who lost iiis life witli 'i< n rai Custer at the titneoi tin-famous mux-acre. Mis Sturgis ha.l tn< t Cirrow at Fort Lincoln. \oh.. when* she and the young lieutenant Iws-aine very friendly. Th- general thinking his daughter iuid the young lieutenant were becoming Ino devoted to each other, removed h<T to St. l-otii*. hoping in tliis way to break up a friendship which he d.srned unwise, farrow's pride wa -uing, and. aft'T nursing hi* affliction for moiitlis, lie re solved t.i come t.. St Ixiuis and settle the moim ntous question. He arrived there, and at once plunged into all the his inati.ms of tlie best society. Four w.cks after his arrival he attended a g.-rman at the h"U< of a w.-althy resi dent. He Was to lead in tlie evening with the young lady he so passionately loved. He told a friend of this Ixfore the even ing arrived, and soetii'xl delight.si at the thought of *•* ing Miss Sturgis. He further "tal'sl that his prosiest* were never fairer, and that he U-ljcvcd he was going to he successful. The next day lie met the same fri'-nd, and said that lie flattered hitns. If tliat Uw* iong and anx iously .lis. us*.si question had lesn dc i cidisi in his favor. Just a wok after the event almvc mention. - .! farrow told the same friend that he was going to nihke a final chary, and "if I atn re pulsed." said lie, "I'll give up file strug gle." Tlie charge was maiio, It was neither a defeat nor a victor. Kiln had answered : " Wait a few days, and I will write you a letter." It is supposed hv those who knew the young oflSeer inti mately that he nccived the fatal letter, and that it was the final and unfavorable answer. The next night tlie bodv of the voting man was placed on a Yandaiia train and taken to its last resting place in PotUvillr. IVnn . where I i father lives. The KYtent of Freemasonry. The following statistics of tin - ntimleT of Fris'tuasons' l.tdges which exist.al at the end of last year, says the london Family Ihralil, will Ix-r< ad with inter est; In Germany there are 342 beiges; Switzerland has 3.1; Hungary 41; Itou mania. II; SIT via 1 : Fngiand and Wales, 1.1K7; Sdolland, .131: Ireland, 2!M; Gib ralfer. A; Malta. 4; Holland and Luxem burg. 46; Hclgium, 15: Ib-nniark. 7; Sweden and Norway, I*; Franc.', 2>7: Spain alxuit 300; Portugal. 22; Italy. llO; Greece, II; Turkey, lit; Fgvpt, 'JN; Tunis, 2; Algeria. II: Morocco, 2; tile Wait Coast of Africa. 11: African Islands 25; tlie fajx*. 61; Arabia (Aden), I; India. Il*i; Indian Islands, 16; fhinn 73; Japan. 5; Australian Islands, 4;, Australia. 2211; New Zealand, Hi; United Stales, 0.864; Canada. 535; Cuba, 30; Haytl, 32; West Indian Islands, 65; Mexico, 13; Hrtir.il. 250; other States in South America. 176; a total of about 5,000 lodges. The number of meinlH'rs is calculated at ahox'c 5,1*10.000. K (Jncer Character. " Jinimy-tlie-I>uek," of Yirginin City, i Nev.. is dead. He made a living by a queer invention. He usisl to put a liu.'k in a has, xvith its head sticking out of a hole, and allow the crowd to throw 1 clubs at it for twonly-llve cent* a throw, the bird lielonging to whoever should hit It. The ducks would of course ' •• duck" th.'ir heads just before tlie sticks j whizzed along, and It was not oftener than once in *ix months thai Jlmmv would lose. The following Is his epi taph; "Old Jimmy's wearv bones are now resting peacefully under the sage brush. Let us hope that when Uic trump of the nwurn-etion shall echo on* ; the rugged |>cak of Mount Davidson he j will lie abb* to pop his head up like that famous duck, and should the devil ap pear and make a grab for the old man. may he dodge back euvocwftiHy." After all. telegraphic repairers are the liesl wire pullers in the country. n FOR THE TOL'JIW FEOFLE. A I Jul# Ulrl > Wowlir. Wlntdn Hit bird* hHf, I wfwidi-r, I wonder, Willi their (liitti-r and chatter 1 Jt iili'l al play, 110 ihi*} -smld, 'ln tiicj fret nti.l *##nic boggle ##r blunder, A* we Irft, a* *<• scold, <l*y alter .lay ' I>ij their Ikihi# ever a/ he, I won/ier, I womier At anything elm- thmi the <laiiger that corn#* I When Mime tawny thr/nten* tbtm <iver or under | 'Hie great, InaJy I*i(ftie <il their Kreat, lealy home* T j Llo they vow to helii/.uiJ*, 1 wonder, I wotvltr, W itli proiuiMM lair ami |>roriii*#w swwrt, | Then, ijuick a* u wink, at a wonl tail asunder | A* hiitnari friend## #!#>, in a moment of heat * j Hut <lay aiti-r <lay | may wonder and wonder, And auk them no end of aueh '|ii<wtiorui h tbeae— W it li clutter, and chatter, now over and undei lite big, leaiy hnigh* d the big li-aiy trees, , 1 hey dart and they kini, with their lUa full of plunder, j But never a Wind ol an anawer they (jive. But ueier a word .hall I get, though I wonder , From morning till night, a* long u- I live. —Aura I'erry, in Si. AT'holm A ttleliti fori Moiihf) , Little Jtuk if tin fun of the whole# age. ami tit tin wuiie tin,. |„. is the plague ami torment of the inhabitants thereof. Hci* about as large as a half-grown eat, ami though <juite a hahy, lie luu# the t* < of an old man. Ife i* fl rhesus. th# Hhun r. "r sacred nionkev of India. If#- i* r.-markahle for agility. Hi*# y. - are full of intelligence and a- ouicfc as a haw k Hi h i regular I'aul Fry, an#l intrude#, hitnw lf just wliercviT he i not wanted I hut, when Tiny and J# nnv have n<-*tlod themselves in a corn# r. litije .lack jump right into the middle ol the grout# and do#-* hi* I rest to upset the part v Llk# a li j Jitti# people, he ha* a neat idea of hi* own uiii* #juen< ■<■, and he think* that I— hi* ma*t< r- am 1- rrihly afraid of him. for lie ntak<- at rue the most hideous face* and chatter* irt a manner that one woul#l think lie wa* a hig gorilla; at l#iu#t. per hap* he i* in hi* own •-stitualion. He can't bear Ling laughed at. and if I laugh at him he g# t perfectly savage h i* a euriou* thing, hut 1 always know when it i* getting on for one o clock hy the monk# ys Lgijining t<# cry out for their dinner. They alk have different voi#•#. ami I know th#-se voice* as well a# 1 know the voice* of people altout me, l iny Is a Moon.# nink< y. ami she almost fays tli# wonl ' Moo-na " in h#T cry : it is a pr. tty, melancholy cry. When angry 'he maker a dliferent noise; when /acting or warm *lie grunt* with satisfaction, and they say I grunt like her. .fenny lia* a trembling white. Little Jack iiatt#r* " kik-kik-kik. andw len he is in trouble lie s#Teams most fenrftilly. Tie* triarmo *<•l * note is a very high, -tueakv. plain tic not/-, like that of a hat. He has also another note which I cannot describe; it is of ang. r or fctir. Wlien the dinner of lioiled potat/w* is brought up the monkeys sit n>und the plate, each one ; uirig .-i* f;c*t a* he can. It is then that their m !fi*hm * is fully demonstrate!. There is an old riddle": "Why do#*, a dog carry a Line j n his mouth * All*. Ih-eaUsc h' lias no k# t t/i put it in." Mo*t monkey* have check (Kiuehes, an#i I am -ure tlie reason why they have pouches is a* follows: Their natural habitant i in tr* s. They <-#ime down on the ground f##r insect*. My monkeys arc particularly fond of meal worms. They rolled thz-ir food on the grounil an#i put it in th'-ir pocket*—that i-. potich<*—and g.i up into the trees again to finish tli' ir dinnner. Titey, therefore, when the potatoes arrive, set to work rat ing us liani a.* they can. They fill their poll. li'-snt til#, sametime. Utile Jack ha* very large pouches; no trace of ti# m can lie soph at ordinary tint'*, but at dinner time h<* tills lit* poll# It#*- t#i tlr|| an extent that tie-two of tli#m put togetleT are nearly as big as lii who]#- head. Well, one day the two elderly monk# ys were sitting on tii<- perch in the cage, tin i*hing off th# 1 '-/ intents of their pouch#-*, and tln-ir tail* were hanging straiglit diwn fr#>m the perch. What ttm-t ra*- . < ally litt i<- Ja# k >i< l>ut tah- Tinv's tail in . on#' Itand an#l Jenny's tail in tin- other, ami give both at th# - vim#' moment a tre. tnendou* pull. This brotiglit the two Lauti'-s on to the floor of the cage in an instant. Tiny were L#t,h furious at L-- ing thus int<rt-u|>t<*l at dinner-time; they a*k#*l no (|U#wti(ins, but ea# li think ing the other had in*u)t/<d her. I>gnn to : light in a m##-t unloving manner. They j grappled and roll"#! over and over like an animat/sl bail. Tbey <ion'l littrt them s/lvi's wlicn lighting; their teeth arc not l#ig enougli. I #-an always stop them by throwing cold water on th#m Wliile tli'V were lighting little Jack kept iump- U|m>ii thi'in. to k*-p them going, a it Wen-. Tlie ras#-al Was ntU#lt too active ever to get cauglit. Tile noise o th#' combat brought up Jemmy the *ttrri cate from tlie kit< hen lielow . Jemmy was niek'sl up bv a frien#! of nttne m-ar 111#' ( ap#- ofliiKHl IIojm. lie i* about the sir* >f a large rat. an#l not unlike a ntun goose in appearance. Ife always turn* up when a monkey tight i* going #n, and, a* uual. up my g#-nt)eman routes, tail • reet nn#l fur all bristles! up. to ntske himself look big. It so happened that during this fight Tlny's tail prm#*# !*! through the liars, .leinnty immediately bit it with bis sharp teeth. Tiny thought it wa* littl#" Ja# k tlint had #lone thi*. so "lie tunic#! and huntes! him all over Un cage, but she ci hi id not catch him. l.ittle Jack kept |#opping in and out the sleep, ing Ikjx. ami then Jimmy joined in the liunt. Jemmy kept guard outsi#le th i-age and bit anylaKly's tail a* tln'ir tail* ltn|ipened toisiraeout from the bars. Al together, t!i(*re was a nice row and little Jack, as usual, was at tlie bottom of it.— IVnai Hocilanrt. in 1/nrui ami Hitler. The largest Libraries. The largest library In the world i* stated to no the Xntiona. Library at Farts, which in l*l contained a.000.000 tu inted book* and 150.000 manuscript*. Tiie Hritisli Museum and tlie tm|#eriai Uhrary at St. Petersburgbrdli contain#*! a)mtit 1,100.000 volttm#* in 1574. and tli#- relalion is prolialily tb- same now. Tlie Hyal Lllirarv of Mtmiidt eoniains 000.000 Lsks. Tlie Vatican Übrary at Home in en#neoUsly stt)ipose#| to be among tin- . largest, while in point of fact It Is sur passed, so far as t!e number of volumes go*, br more tlian sixty European oil- Vectiomi. It contains 105,000 printed IwMiks and 25,500 manuscript*. In tli* I nib-'l States the largest is the library of Congress at Washington, which in 1*74 contained 201.000 volumes. The llostoo Fublie lollowtsl very clearly after it with 200.500. and the Harvard I'ni v#-rslty collection came next with 'JOO.tMtI
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers