The Dead Student.
I t doesn't seem—now does it, Jack?—ns it
poor Brown wore dead;
Twits only yesterday at noon ho had to titke
his bed.
The day bet ore, lie played first banc, and ran
McParland down; •
And then, to slip away so sly—'twas not at oil
likn Brown.
The story seeins too big to take. 'Mist ntiy
one will And
It's somotimes hard to got n man well laid out
in his mind.
And Brown was just afire with lifo. Twonldn'
scare mo, I avow,
To hear a whoop, and seo the man go rushing
past hero now.
Toor Brown' he's lying in his room, as white
as drilled snow.
I called upon him, as it wore, an hou{ or two
ago.
A-mshing in o Brownie's (oom soemed awk
ward liko and queer:
We haven't spoken lmok and lorth tor some
thing like a your.
We didn't pull together square a single night
or day:
Uowe'er 1 won he soon contrived to And
another wuy
He tail against ine in my loves wo picked a
dozen bones
About that girl you used to like—the ono thnt
martini Jones.
He worked against me in the class, boloro my
very oyes.
He opened up and scooped me square out o|
the Junior prize.
In the hist campus rush we emtio to strictly
business blows,
And from the eye he left undiinnicd 1 viewed
his damaged nose.
In (net, I came at last to teel—and own it with
dismay—
Thßt liio would ho worth living lor it Brown
were ont id the way.
But when I heard that he was dead, my feel
ings tacked; and then
I would have given luill my lite to get his
hack again.
I called upon him, as it were, an hour or two
ago.
Toe room oe.it beyond excuse—thn women
made it so.
Be sure ht had no hand in that, and naught
about it knew.
To see the order lying round had made him
very blue.
A sweet liouquet ol girlish flowers smiled in
the lace ol death.
•Straight through the open window came the
morning's fragrant breath.
Close-en gcd, a small canary bird, with glossy,
yellow throat.
Skipped drearily from |>ercli to perch, and
never sung a note
With liair unusually combed. at poor McFar*
land near,
Alternately perusing Greek, and wrestling
with a tear.
A homely little K irl ol six, lor aouic old kind- ;
news' sake. <
Was sobbing in the corner there as il her heart
would break.
The books looked worn and wretched like,
almost as if they knew.
And seemed to be n-whispering their titles to
my view.
His rod and gun were in their place; and high, j
where all might see,
(Mean- IN I jauntily the boating enp ho won Inst
year Imm me.
lilted up the solemn sheet. That honeaf.
earnest taoe
Snowed signa of culture and o| toil that dentil
could ma erase.
As western skies at twilight mark where late
the aim has lieen,
Brown's lace revealed the mind and soul that
once laid burned within.
lie looked so gramlly helpless there, tq>on that
lonely lied'
Oh, Jack' these manly locs arc toes no more
when they are dead'
"Old hoy," I sobbed, "'twas half my lault.
'i'hia heart makes late nmenda."
look the white cold hands in mine— and
Brown and I were friends.
W 'ill Carltlon, in liarprr't 1 1 >A7y
A TEN-DOLLAR BILL.
Miss Julia Tyrrol sat before the fire
with her feet on the fender nnd a ton
sillar hill in her hand. To ordinary
mortals a ten-dollar hill is a ten-dollar
bill—that, and nothing more; hut to
Julia it meant an evening of enchant
ment.
" I shall buy white gloves, white satin
ribbon and a tan," she whispered softly,
"and Charley will Is* sure to hriog a
bouimt. My dress isn't very shabby.
and if it was, he would never notice. I
ought to have an opera cloak and lots of
other things, and I ought—yes, I ought
to pay madarne my weeks rent. Rut
nobody does everything he ought to do,
and it is not my fault if I haven fifty
dollar way for every ten-dollar bill."
Then she looked thoughtfully at the
Mil, and turned it over in her pretty
white hands. As she did so she noticed
a name written in small clear letters in
one corner. The eharneters were so
small that she had to lake the note to
the window in order to decipher them.
But very little puzzled those bright
youftg eyes. " I see." she said, nodding
lier head wisely. "• William Henry
Brookes.' I wonder who he is, and
what made hint write his name on a hill
that is every body's mine just at
present, and going to A.T. Stewart in
oalf MI hour. Not a pretty name either.
I dare say he Is some little snob that
thinks there is only one man in the
world, nnd he is Wiliiain Henry
Brookes."
It was snowing heavily by this time,
but Julia c ired little for that. It wns a
bloek to the stage, nnd the stage would
put her down at Stewart's door. It was
always a little holiday for Julia to go
•hooping: and even if it was only a ten
dollnr shopping nobody knew It hut lier
snd ft gave her perfect freedom to
look as if she ooulo ouy i\ll tUo silks ftntl
lares she wanted.
A man would not know how to spend
twenty minute* in buying n pair 01
sloves5 loves tinil three yards of satin rihhon.
ulia spent two very pleasant hours
about it, and then, not being able to
come to a decision about the fan, she
determined to walk up to Union Square,
and have half a dozen stores to select
front. It was quite fair and bright hy
tliis time, the sky blue, the air soft, and
not very cold; so. with a light, rapid
step, site hurried along, every
few minutes before some gay window,
and considering its contents a* carefully
as if site really meant to buy them.
Just turning into the square, some
one said, " Julia! don't cut tnc in that
direct way."
" Why, Charley, who ever thought of
seeing you here at this time of day? 1
have been buying gloves. Have you got
the tickets?"
•• I was just going up town to see
you."
"Hood Itoy! Now what is the mat
ter? You ought to be cutting up the
world with a pair of scissors in that den
of yours near City Hall. What are you
doing among decent people on Broad
way at three o'clock in the afternoon P"
•• Well, something has happened."
"Oh, Charley! What? Is it nice?"
" 1 don't say it's had, exactly."
"I'll tell you what; we'll go into
Bitot's and have some oysters, and you
shall tell me all about it. Have you
money enough. Charley?"
"1 have two dollars, Julia,'and I
would rather spend them in that way
than keep theiu."
"Ofcourse. Besides, you would not
keep them anyway, and vou might waste
t heiu— and we are just hero. 1 declare
it is a pleasant providence met ting you
Shopping is such hungry work, and I
was just thinking of oysters."
" I wish you had been thinking of me,
July; but you never do that."
" Oh no,*never! Charley, you know 1
do; but 1 i an't afford to do it often, and
that's a fact, pear me! how nice the
warmth is, and the fragrant smell of
cake and tilings! lam afraid. Charley,
I am a little gourmand. Would you
respi et me with such a character?"
" You know I like every fault you
have. I think they are • .ry one charm
ing."
"Thank you, Char.cyand th"
words had a tone that set tlimi quite
apart front the rcst-of tl. conversation.
"Here arc the oysters and coffee; now
ntake them tiring some < • ry, and then
tell ine how you roiue to i 1 taking lunch
with nte at three o'clock in the after
noon, and it not Sunday."
" I thought you were taking lunch
with me, July; but it is all the same;
and if you had met nte five minutes ear
lier yu would have seen the cause of
my holiday. He's a regular ~w> *l, I tell
you—an Knglislt gentleman."
" Now, Charley, you need not try t
impose on nte. You've been collecting
bills. I guess."
"Honor bright, July. I have (men
entertaining a very rich Englishman,
and an M. r. at thai."
" What is his name—or title?"
"He has no tit!'*; he is only a Mr.
Brooke* at present, but he'll be" a baro
net some day; and h • brought the chief
letters from some of the biggest London
editors. He is one of those statistical
gentlemen who want facts, and he's got
no end of money, and a fine 'place' in
Somerset -dim—wherever that is."
" It is in England, goosey."
"Very well, I've no objection: I only
wish he was there too. for—don't IH
angry July—l have to go to the opera
with him to-night: he mailt tue promise,
anil I could jiot refuse."
" But you had a jtrior engagement with
me, sir. anil I sluill not release you, s>
don't imagine | hall."
" I don't want to be released; you know
that: but what am Ito tin?"
" Why did you not tell him you had an
engagement with a lady?"
1 might go to hi* hotel, anil tell him
so yet."
" Certain.v, that is the proper thing to
do. Where is he staying?"
" At the Fifth Avenue."
" V ry well, we can walk together so
far; then you can have an interview
with this Air. Brookes, and come and
tell tuo the result."
An hour afterward, as Julia sat in her
room, making her white satin riblton
into IKIWS, a servant entered and said,
" A gentleman, miss, in the parlor, to see
you.
Site laid her bows carefully on the bed.
covered them with a clean handkerchief,
and went downstairs. Charley stood on
the hearth-rug. looking into "the blaze
witli a perplexed look. Julia went and
stood baiile him.
" Well, sir?"
•• Well, July, I saw Mr. Brookes."
" Yes?"
" I told him I bad forgotten that I bad
a prior engagement with a lady, and that
in America ladies always came first."
" Very proper. I am glad you told
him that. W hat did he say."
"That perhaps the lady would excuse
me—under the eirramstanees."
" No. sir, *h" won't. It is a national
question now. Charley; the honor of
your countrywomen is in your hands,
sir. And the 'circumstances?' what are
they?"
"Ills bring a stranger—a very promi
nent stranger—and all that."
"I snap my fingers at 'the circum
stances.' _ He is a man. and a rich man;
If he can't take care of himself, he can
hire a policeman to go with him."
Charley laughed. "July, you are too
pretty for anything. I nave a great
mint not to tell you the rest. I have a
presentiment that I am cutting my own
throat—breakingtny heart, I mean."
"Go on. Charley; what did lie say
next?"
" lie asked ifthe lady was my mother."
The two looked at each other a mo
ment, and then went into a paroxysm
of laughter. Julia recovered first.
"Oh, Charley, why could be not have
said at once, ' is she young and pretty,
and are you In love with her?'—that's
the way a N'"w Yorker would have put
it."
"I told him the lady was a lieautiful.
bewildering, bewitching, brilliant mem
ber of the New York press, and that I
durst not on any account offend her. for
I did not know what terrible things she
might write about nic."
"Very good, indeed! What then?"
"He proposed to go with us. He said
be had no objections to the lady's com
pany."
No objections!' How kind of him!
Well?"
"8o I changed our tickets, and got
three seats together. He will IM> our
guest, July; and treat him decently,
dear. I think from what he says lie Is
curious about American women."
"Oil! Well, Charley, yon must make
him come hero for me, and mind you
get a nice carriage; and you must go
now, for it will take me two full hours
to dress to-night."
She went up stairs 11 little excited,
and laid out tlimightflilly tlie well-used
liluek Miik dretet. It wan not no Imd, after
all. "I have new hues in id ribhoriHanil
fresh flowers ; I dure say I .shall look well
enough," she thought. Anil then:
" Brookes! that is twine to diy BriMikes
linn bis-n forced on my attention. It did
not trouble me long the lirst time, and I
dare say 1 shall net rid of the second in
trusion quite as eiwily."
She tool; great |>liill# with her toilet —
hut she always did that. And though
she was dressed on time, she kept the
gentli ne n waiting for her a full quarter
of an hour. But a.s she never kept
Charley waiting, she hoped he would
understand her motive, and do all in his
power to make the Englishman feel tlint
lie was waitingon a woman. Somehow
she had got the idea that Mr. Brookes
would feel it a humiliation. But if he
did, he had either admirable self-oontrol
or really fine manners. Me chatted
with Charley, quite oblivious of the
lapse of time, and rose to meet MissTyr
rel with an air of stteh indifferenee an to
the opera, that .lulia really had the im
pression that lie would just as willingly
stay where he was as go.
And lie was a niee fellow, too. In
spite of his scrupulous Billet and his
formal manners, he contrived to make
the night a thoroughly delightful one
to Juint. lie did not give her an on
! portunity to say a single saucy thing; lie
j was so charmed with America and
everyone in it tliatJuliu declared "lie
disn rved to lie a New Yorker. However,
Mr. Brookes," she added, with nuc-k
j seriousttesa, " good Englishmen come to
New York wle-n tliv die.'"
> (letitiemcn generally " talk over''the
| ladies who have adormsl their evenings,
but Mr. Brookes did not make a single
remark it I suit Mi-# Tyrrell. Charley
i wished lie had. He had watched the
! t wo with a burning h art all through the
j epeni, and in- told himself with j<-ahius
' anger that July had m ver looked so
1 lovely or t>ecn so tirilliant and entcrtain-
I ing.
" And that Brook's," he muttered,
i " did nothing hut watch lUT. He is in
love, of is>urse; no fellow could help it;
: and lie has nottling to do hut to buy the
I ring and order the wedding cake. Fifty
I thousand pounds a year, and a title com-
I ing hy-and-hye-—ami I have fifteen hun
! dred dollars, and no particular cxpectn
lions ot any kind. Of course July will
i take him—any woman would; and
though July is an angej, she likes silk
.lr>-ses and things of that sort. I wish I
i hadn't been stteh a fool! I only want)*l
i him to see what a wonderful girl loved
me, if I was a poor fellow of a writer,
ami now I'll Is t lie cuts up'out. Serve
me right, too!"
To such re lb tions as then- poor Char
ley's pen and seissors went all the in \t
day, and many days afterward. For Mr.
; Brook- * having tnaile Mis- Tyrrvl the
! regular formal visit, went again and
again, until tin * were very good friend*.
To Julia the winter passed happily.
' She loved music and ruling, and Mr
Brooke# was always giad to gratify these
hastes. She had no suspicion that he re
garded their pleasant companionship in
any otln r light than on< of mutuai mi
ert.ainnient. Of course Mr. Brooke*
knew that she lovd Charley Rath; In
had often *<-cn tln'tn together, and she
i had never attempted toeoneeal the rela
tion ill whi li tlu'V stood to each other.
One tx autifui spring evening. Julia,
I barley and Mr lirooki - -lood together
|nt theojs-n window. Suddenly Brooki-s
took out Ills jHM'ket-tssik and said,
" l/*lk hen'. Mr. Until"—and he un
folded a ten-dollar hill and smoothed it
can fully out— "do you see anything re.
markabie about that hill?"
" No," said Charley, eari le-.*iy. "It
seems good enough ; hut I am noe\j*-rt "
Julia glanced at tin- hilt and smiled.
" 1 ' an gu<s* what you nuvui."
" Impossible."
" Yes, I r*n. There i* • William Henry
Brookes' written on the left-hand comer
! in very small characters." Brooke*
| looked amazed; and Juiia. laughing.
said. " You need not lie afraid of me; I
. am not a medium, and I hav. not the
j second sight. 1 came by my knowledge
in M very natural way. Is William
Henry your name?"
"It is. M i-s Julia. May I ask you to
j t"U us the secret of your information?"
"You had letter first teil how you
came to do so absurd a thing as write
1 your name in such a place. It would
make me feel as if I was wandering
about the eotintry looking for myself.
"Well, it was a whim. Hicli F.ng
lishmen are allowed to have whims; it
is onr of the privileges of tie ir eondi
tion. That hid was the tirst American
money I ton led: I got it on hoard the
J steamer; and I wrote my name on it in
an idle whim, whose source 1 did not
than analyze, and certainly cannot now.
The first time I went on Broadway I went
into a bookseller's and bought a map
and guide to the eity, and I paid for it
' with the marked note. I think I did
this knowingly, I rut I am not sure; in
I fact. I had only a passing interest in the
matter. That must have bri-n ntmut the
I till of January."
"And on the Iflth | ; -nt it in payment
for some writing. I know it was the
Kith, for I was to go with Charley to
hear Lin-en,and I want d new gloves and
a new fan. and I had onlv that one ten
j dollars. Then, too, 1 did not feci very
sure if I ought to spend it in that way.
j I sat thinking and thinking and timing
i the hill in my hand; finally I saw the
writing—and that very night I saw aiso
1 the writer."
I "And what impression did it mak" on
; you. Miss Juiia? lam very curious to
know."
" I don't like to teli. You will feel
. hurt."
" No, I will not. Tell mo the plain
; truth."
" Well. I thought, this' Will lam Henry
Brooke#is a snoh who imagine* himself
theonlymnn in the world. Then I re
flected how conceited lie must be to put
nisname on what lie lias only a passing
use in."
" Thank you. Miss Julia, for your
honesty. I shall never claim another
bill unless I mean to keep it absolutely
in my own possession. Then I would
ave a right to put my name on it; don't
you think so?"
"Certainly; hut that would lie a more
foolish whim than the other; you would
get neither use nor Interest for your
money."
" I should linve my whim. But what
did you with the hill?"
" I paid It into the treasury of Stewart
A Co., and gof in exchange gloves. rllr-
Ixms and hairpins."
-"And you did not forget the name?
That I* strange."
"Not at alb I was Introduced to you
that night, and I hive had no leisure—
and no inclination—to forget It since.
How did you get it hack again?"
" I paid my hotel bill to-day, and re
ceived it among other note# in exchange.
Will you please look and aee 11 It really
U the same?"
"Yes. I think there is no doubt of
it."
" Now will you kindly get me pen and
inkP"
"You will And them in Lit# other
parlor."
Brookes rose, and Julia followed him
curiously. He Hpread out the hill, and
wrote his name all over it in large, clear
characters.
"You have made it useless, Mr.
Brookes."
It i* too prrcioti# to use. llememlier.
It really introduced me to you. I shall
never let any strange hand touch it
again."
" All," said Julin, half pettishly and
half longingly, "you are ri h anil can
afford sentiment. As for me, 1 should
| he compelled to spend it in a week."
" What a lot of nonsense altogether!"
said Charley, with angry contempt.
"Of course," answered Julia, scorn
| fully, "it is nonsense to you, sir. Ten
dollar hills are simply Issfsteak and
I cigars in your eyes."
"July, I did not expect this from
: you," said the poor fellow ; and with a
look of reproach that made her feel ut
| terly wretched lie took Ills hat and left
' them.
For some minutm* no one spoke. Julia
stood at the window watching Charley
up the street, and Mr. Brooke# leaned
I against the mantel watching Julia. At
length lo- went to her, and said : " Miss
Tyrrcl. this little incident affect smc pro
foundly. I am a matter-of-fact man,
i and I have not known how to indicate
my love by complimentary speeches.
But Ido love you with all my soul, and
i if you will Is- my wife, I can give you
one of the[niost enviable positions in F.ng
laad.
"! do not love you, Mr. Brookes."
"But you might ham."
"Oil, never! 1 love Charley Bath
' witli all my soul.'"
"Thank you again for being so honest
with me. But if you love Mr. Bath,
why did you sjs-nk so— #o--"
" < rueliy < th. I don't know; < 'barley
provokes me sometimes. We have iiceji
engaged three year#, both of us working
and hoping for better days; hut they
don't enmc. Charley doc# hi- b t",
though; it i# not his fault; and 1 am
ashamed of myself for making him ft-el
hi# poverty so terribly."
" I leg you to beficve. Mis* Tvrrcl,
that my love i# no selfish one. To make
you happy i* its fondest hope—happy in
your own way. you uieh rstand. < .in I
do anything to forward M r. Bath's pros-
IrtS'tH ?"
"Ye*. 1 really think you could. You
know all the famou* I sin don editors,
and you arc an M I'., and a rich man
too. I should think you could easily
get Charley some position that would
afford j* enough to live on. You see I
don't want much; I can make all my
own dre-<-*, and I know how to kc j'
house anl cook, and I can write too.
" My dear young lady," said BriMikes,
and his cyi s w< r> misty with tears, " you
deserve everything that you ejui d'-ire.
Be very sure I uall DOt forget you."
And ki<Mting In r hand, to- murmured
over it a " farewell," and departed.
All thi- happitu-d about five year# ago.
I was July's eonfidante at tin time, and
I must say | f.-it annoyed at her refusal
of the ri< h Knglislim.an. "You ware
r-ai selfish, July," 1 said; "you might
have renu nils r- d what a niee p... . your
house would have lon forme to come
to every year, and I am ju#t sick to go
to England, too."
But one day in the autumn I got a let
ter from July which made me suspis-t
something unusually good had happened.
"Come here din-illy," wrote July.
" < 'barley anil I are going to be married.
We are going to he marri'd on Wednes
day next, and we sail for Izmdon on
I Saturday."
I wi nt immediately to see July; hut
there wa.s no getting ner to Isdiare reas
onably. It was Charley this, and Char
ley that, till 1 was sick of the monotony.
She w.is like a wild bird, flying up and
down stairs, singing and chattering. 1
really never dr anted that any girl in lUT
j sensi-s muld have 1 en a.* happy on the
verge of such an awful, awfni experi
ni' nt as man iage.
However, she always wrote such ex
travagant letter# that I hoped the ln-st
in h'-r case; and last summer I went to
si#< her. and so had an opportunity of
i judging for myself. Charley met me.
and took me at once jto .their house at
Richmond. I never was so amaz-d in
my life. It was n-ally a splendid man
sion— quitearistoiTatie, indeed—and the
, furnishing, the silver and servant# were
| all in keeping. Tln-j had also a hstid-
I some carriage and linns . and Julia was
dr--'d like the Uiiccn of Hltchy,
"My dear girl.' | said, is wi at chnt
, ting in my room, "you don't mean to
| teli mc that all this splendor onu * out
ol an ink#tand? If so. I don't go hack
ito New York: I shalla*k Charley toput
me in the way of picking up tie < ninth*
1 tiiat tail from the editor - tab! -."
' Hidn't 1 teil you Ilia! CI iricy is in
the 'Custom# ' now? Mr. Brookes got
him a very lu< ra!ive position "
" I should think so. Then lie does not
write now""
" He writes his name, love, to paper#
and things—write# 'Charles M. llatli'
for about four hours a day."
"Very profitable writing. Jry. lam
amazsai wli n I look at your h iise, gar
den*. servants, dresses, etc."
"And yet they alt enme from that
marked ten-dollar hill. It was n hn ky
hill to me—almost like Aladdin's lamp. I
I wish I had it.
"But I don't think you wi'l get it
again. Brooke* is just the man to fold
Ins heart up in it. hoard it away all hi*
life, and then make a point of having it
hurled with him. I tlilnk sentiment of
that kind sheer nonsense, hut I will in
dulge any Englishman that fancies It. at
the same late of interest that it ha* paid
you. July."
And Julia satd, with a sigh. " It wrw a
lucky bill, Franees; I wish every p<mr
good girl eould And one like it.
prr't Wrcily.
Tar Exrellenre.
The above refer# to what Courtney's
friends will say when they #oc the eom-
Jdetion of his elegant establishment nt
L"> West Fayette street and 40 Clinton
street, to be known as "Courtney
Plaee." The superb manner in which
this popular caterer proposes to trans
form the place into a tierfeet palace of
pleasure settles Hie point that it will
take the front rank among anything of
its kind In Central New York. The
rooms are ample for all and will contain
billiard tables of the latest and most ap
proved makes, modern ftirniture nr.d
fixtures, the very liest imported wine#,
liquors and cigars, and turn lies that will
give the most Fastidious epicure a clear
ease of up and Un gout. But as we all
remember ttimid-time lunches nt Court
lU'y's, it Is needles* to pursue the subject
"'fther, hut wait for tlie opening wliieli
will Ix* duly announced and well at
tended. we will guarantee.
The Chinese National Humbling tonne.
" Fan tan" is the national gambling
game of the Chinese, and is played by
beggar and prince with equal avidity.
A correspondent give* an interesting )•-
fount of the game as playwl in a gnm
i tiling house at Miu ao, situated at the en
i trance of the Can ton /i ver:
j flaudlly painted lanterns or immense
Hi/.euiiil ornamented with a multitude of
eahnlistie signs swung in front of the
| portal, which w:ts further adorned by a
number of slips of red paper covered
with ( hinese ciiariu ters ami a quantity
oft my oil lamps. On gaining the top ot
the narrow staircase we found ourselves
in a room furnish)*! in the usual Chinese
fashion, witli polished wooden sbsils
I and tables ranged all round the sides and
witli carved ornaments decorating flu
| walls. Alsiut half way across one side
j extended a high table very much in tlie
i fashion of a tiar eounts-r in a first-r-lasN
American saloon, except that the top ot
it was covered with matting instead of
I icing polished, lb-hind this, in the
middle, sat the high priest of" Fan tan." :
i an enormously corpulent Chinaman, in
a very capacious iuid comfurtalile aim
j chair, Ids li-gs tuckcdaway heni-ath him
| and a " water" pipe at Ins dhow, from
which ever and anon h inhaled a wliiff
or two of the (stars)- toli.-icco generally in
use among the natives, lie was the
I " dealer," and he bestowed a very
friendly recognition upon our host
:is we cntereu. Next to the dealer
at the hanker, a sharp-eyed and
sharp-featured man, who had before
him a large box containing money, in
hank-notes, gold and silver, and an
" abacus" which Chinamen a ways tisi
.to assist thein in calculating. Two or
three other "solid" looking (Vic tial# in
iotig blue gowns also sat in a -orl of re
o-#- h* bifid the table, silently smoking
and occasionally protruding a hand,
adorned with very mug finger nails, with
which they altered tlie position of certain
small circular hits of jade on the table
which represented the stake# of gam
blers who were not tin *< nt, but wh > *tii]
participated in tlie fortunes of the game.
Icing quite content to tru*t the honesty
of the proprietors as to tic winning or
loing. Biglit in front of the dealer,
and rivets*! to the table, was a piece o(
wliite metal almul one foot square.
This i* tic Tom Fiddler's ground upon
which the gamblers try th- ir !u< k. lie
four side# represent the numbers one,
two, three arid four—that next to the
dealer being number on>* and tiiat next
to tic players nutnls r lour. The game
cotninenei-s by the dealer taking a hand
ful of bright new " cash" from a heap at
his right hand, putting them in n separ
ate heap at hi# lift and covering them
over with a little iiriL** cap. Tien tic
plavers put Heir stakes on the table on
whichever *ide of tin* un ta. square it
may please them.
0m UMumttd dollars Is tin !itnl in the
Mai ao gamhling hottsi-#. hut tin nailest
coin i- not re# et.-d, and it i# n< an iin
fri luenl is-curriiu i to *• • tli . an
or Ancrii an *'punKT" risking a roil of
banknotes alongsid. A IMMIIIV who i*
stsdidly " bucking th< tiger" with two
ortliri) " cash "at a tinw . Considering
that one hlindri*! "cash"' qlL'ti only one
nnt, flc passion for play, it will lw
*'# n, can le gmtifi-d a" small osi.
In n all have staked tlie dealer removes
the bra#* cover trniii tin- small piF- of
"i !i#h."and with an ivory "chop-Mi> k"
ins - • d* to count the . nin* out bv f.-ur*
lie take# can to bare his arm. andcounts
slow Iv and ih iieati-ly, removing -a- h
"ea#fi" hy the bole in it* center, so that
exerylxidy may "si* fair." Tlie excite-;
mi-nt grows more and more int- n#e a*
tlie pile gradually ilimini#lic-, and the
more acute and experienced gambler*
often are able t<i announce the winning
nutnls r when yet quite a quantity of
," cash " remain untou<-tu*l. A moment
and the pile il rnluird to small dimen
sions. "(iat. yi-e, snm. see."counts tin
■baler—"one. two. three, four"—"rat.
yee, sam. #■*•." "gat, yce-c-e, sa-ani !"
riiree "cash "remain a# the balance of
the heap, and so three is for this time
the winning number. Tlie hanker
thereupon sweeps in all the money that
has Icin staked on No#.l. -j and 4. and
then pay* over to those who put their
money on No 3 three tim** tin amount
of tlu-ir investment, tuinu# eight and a
half per cent . whii li i* tic profit ai
lowr*l to the bank. Tea and other re
freshments—brandy and **tdn for the
Europeans, of course—is handi*l round
by the "boys" and the ranc renm
ni'-n. es. Tin • room was full of people
all the time, and tlie two galleries that
j run round it were also occupied hy play
ers who let down tlnir stake# in a small
basket prnvid'd fertile pun i-" and gave
din-, lion* to tlie dealer wle i> to pla^e
it. < >ne dried up old Chinaman in thi*'
i gnliery w on f.1,0001n three deal*, simply
Irxtvingbis stake on tlie same *iib all the
tine. Neither the denier nor tie l-ank-r
evinced the *nia!lc*t degr-** of emotion
whether the tabic won or lost end they
never spoke cx>* pt in monosyllables.
An Aged Heiress (laying.
The Reading (I'a.) />*?/• say*: F.iir-a
-h tli lieilw-slx-rgcr. ag>*l ninety-two. !*•-
sides in Richmond tow nship, this coun
ty. and is. in all probability, one of the
richest maiden iadfe# in the county. She
owns several beautiful farm# in Rich
mond township, where she has lived
neariy ail her life. l|er brother is also
a large land owner. Miss
Is remarkably well preserved. She was
never married, and lias lived ninetv-t wo
years in single lilcssislness, without being
dragged down hy the carres of married
life, domestic troubles and other vexa
tions :ud tribulations. She has siivirry
gray hair, i#nent and trim in appearance,
and, considering her great age. is quite
aetivd and alert. A few days ago her (
farm hands eommen(**l hay-making. To
tl lr gn at surprise the aged lndv and
land owner made lier appearance fn the ,
field, rake in hand. She wa* suitably
attired for tlie occasion. lUT skirts and
dr\# being well gathered in and tucked ■
ba-V so as not to drag or give ber any '
trouble in moving over the field. She :
said she was going to show tliem how to j
work. This was gnvpxl with clapping of ,
hand* and cheers. Mia# I/eihsbrrger went
to work in good earnest, tossed the h#y
over and over, raked it in rows from one
end of the field to the other, and then
helped to rake it In pile#, and finally as
sisted in loading and raking After the
wagons. It was an exhibition of OH
time hay-making, the way "tliettised
o do If when she was a young girl," she
#nid. " before tbepntent machinery was
ever heard of." Tic lady worked In the
field the entire day, and kept up lier
piuek remarkably well.
Walking matches between young
ladies and gentlemen are getting to be
quite common. You can see them any
nieasanlivening by going out along the
bluff. Jniy young couple who are en
gaged are a "walking match when they
are nut for a stroll, aren't they ?—AYotai
Omit C%.
A Home for I.opfru,
A Honolulu (iorripond<4it writes:
After the scourge of srnalJ-pox had
HW. pt OV.T tltl' HllWttlilUl iHlni.llH AOtJIC
years turn, m which time compulsory
! vaccination won resorted to, leprosy jri-
I ci.-iuo-.l to such an nlnrming extent that
tin' government wo* compelled to tukr
riieneuri-H to arrest it* progress. When
1.-HH extreme measure* failed it finally
<|erii|e.l upon segregation, and tin- inland
of Molokol WHS Heje.'ti*. 1 for tin- settle,
ment I eeniiH.' of its peculiar natural ad
vantage*. Tii'-ti iu).'win.i.H nwe.'p lu-roHt '
it in such a direction that all tie- infee.
tiUH (pw.-H are curried out to wn instead
of toward the other Island*. Tiie valley
in fertile nticj aiiundantly supplied with
fresh water, while at it hark nij.Tp.Ti
di'-ular wall of roek—called a pafi—rise*
several hundred feet, and like n grim,
unyielding sentry leena to nay. " Thus
far a halt thou go and no farther." Of
course, the law met with violent opposi
lion, for tii . native* themselves have no
.tread of the disease, and freely use tlie
garments or occupy the name bed with a
i' per of the worst type; arid the enforce
ment of the law woul.l nunder fuoilirn,
for though husbands and wives might
immolate themselves for eaeh other they
were not allowed to take healthy < hif
dren with them. However, time ha*
don. much toward convincing them of
til.' wisdom of til'* poliev, and now op
j.oHilion is rarely met with farther than
111 concealing the existence of ti|e disease
a* long an pok-ihle. When a person i*
discovered who ha* indication* of the
discus' In i* tak'-n to the inland, hut in
order tliat no one may !*• held there
without reason wuli (>erson'"ommittrd
<ir-t receives treatment for the disca*-*
hearing some resemblance to it. and in
IK ' iMionnl instance* j.<r-on have been
cur d and returned to tln-ir fainiiie. but
usually the march of the disease in m>
rapid that two or three month* make it
untnitakahle, and they nreeommitt.-.! to
tie inland for life.
I lie provision* for their comfort are
most ir.-ni roUH, and those who have th<*
tn<nr.k t.i do so are allowed ti build cot
tages for tie irown occupation, arel tie r
tliey live with a* much seclusion a* i
they had the worid to choose from.
I lie piv. rnni'Tit has j.< rhap* err"d on
the side of merev in allowing husband*
and wive- to follow each other, for the
only obvious blot U|*.n tie' system of
isolation i- the addition to the settle,
m.-nt hy birth*. numbering none yean- a*
many a* fifty—a mistaken kindness it
would neem when tie- child's fieri tap. • is
loatlinome di*. a-< and its rare entails a
el ill ifrenter financial hurd'-n upon the
government, hut so far a- is consistent
with tie- hyjrienic regime established for
their good they an allowed their own
habit* of life. The H<*ttlement now
numlx-r* eight hundred persons, at leant
two of whom an - Americ an* It would
Is- a mi*takc to attribute to tlii* afflicted
clam the intern..- mental or physical
suffering which *-■ are wont to imagine
. haniep ri/ - the di-.-aw, for a iner< iful
provision <>f nature bring* with tie- dis
ease an apathy of mind and numhn'-*- of
body which prevents acute suffering.
lndw-d.lt i* asserted that :ipin miv I>*
thrust into any part of the diseased rt -h
w itiiout i au-in. tie slightest sensation
of pain.
Strange Iteath of a Dor.
Jack, an intelligent and valuable N< w
l"Undland dog, own' d by Tlioma* I'il
lington. rd Newark. N. .f*. met his death
in a singular manner. He was a hittc-r
.inmy of eat*, and he ha* (wo n known
to spring over an eight-foot fen" after a
f' line that had tantalized liitn. Wiien
•cver a eat concert was legun near his
master's liousc .Tack scattered tiie sere
nade r* without ■ cmnonv. and lie was
not only much prized hy Mr. I'illington.
hut was also a favorite with the neigh
hors wiio. 1 bank-to hi* enmity to the
eat CT* ation. enjoyed peaceful slumlx-r.
Mr. i'illington took .la< k to the house
oi a friend, win re lie tied the dog to a
piece 'of wood weighing shout tliirty
pounds, in order to prevent hi* esmoe
m>m the yani. In tiie evening the eats
came from all the hou*.-* in the n.-igh
lM.rli.MH] and perched .in tb* fence- close
to the spot where their implacable
enemy was secured. They seemed to
know that Jack was tied fast, for they
began an exultant serenade, and con
tinued it until lie how led with rage. )|
made several arage spring* at the eats
on tiie fence nearest to him, but he could
n<d get loose from hi* fastening*. Ilis
tormentors continued to tantalize him
in eat language until he became frantic,
lie tugged desperately at the chain that
held him to tie- block of wood. and tiie
s< renading party s.eing hb lielnle** con
dition then Iwgan such a noisy .-at.r
wauling that a dozen night-eapp'd
h'-ads popped out 'if as many bodrvx.m
windows. Itooijacks, sticks and rro< k
cry were hurled at the eat*. Meantime
Jni k. who had dragged the block of
wood close to the fence, made a desper
ate spring at a hig tomcat. He clear-d
the fence at the same instant that the
eat disapp.suvd in the agpoining vard.
hut h' unfortunately luumiot calculated
on the Weight of the hl.M'k of irmd. Tiie
result w iis that poor .Ta.-k wa* suspended
by his ne< k to the chain, whiili wa*
firmly held to the block of wood on the
other side of the fence. IVefore assist
ance srrivcl Jack had slowly strangled
to death. The n xt day he was giv.u a
descent burial hy his owner and friends.
It is said that he had saved three human
lives.
Peculiar People.
Most people, whatever their condition
or race, are so homogeneous nowadays,
through long exposure t> the same In
fluences, that it is enlivening to hear of
a people, even though they be savages,
altogether different from the common.
The natives of Botel-Tobafio. an island
in the China S"*, are curious and pecu
liar in most respect*. They excited the
wonder of n number of American naval
officers, who recently visited them
while surveying a rwk'cast of the South
<'a|H* of Formosa. These aboriginals,
who are of Malay stock, knew nothing
of money, and couid not be made to un
derstand the object of its use. They had
never tasted tobacco or rum. nor had
they any substitute* for these. Never
tlieless.'the females liked Mivlhing and
everything of an ornamental or derora
tive character. They admired brass
buttons, tin vessels, or anything bright:
freely gave gnats and pigs for them , and
could not get enough for their delecta
tion. Any shining object they were
eager to obtain, and they would dire for
a button or a coin if thrown into the
water, and often seine it while It was
sinking. They played In their canoes
alwut the ship for Iwiurs, watching for
an opportunity to dive for the (to them)
precious trifles. The natives are as
primitive as they can be. They wear
only breech-clouts; they live on tarn and
yams; they have no other Implements
than axe*.*pear* and knives, made of
common Iron; but the female* employ
shells and the beards of goats for orna
ment.