Comfort.
".Suppose, be said, " that all the streams
that run
Should flow Into one aea;
Suppose that all the sunshine ot the sun
But for one hour should be
Poured on the folded heart ol that red rose
That richly glows
Half in the light and hall within the shado
Ot its own leaves, all lightly overlaid
To keep it till it blows.
"Well, you would soe this summer world, so
glad
In sun and song, and bloom,
A wandering waste of water, woird and sail,
Held in unbroken gloom;
And you would see, alter the hour had sped,
That rose so red
A sightless, withered thing, loel in the sun,
And all the land ot other bloom undono,
And dry as dost," ho said.
'Suppose, then, you could have the world
lor tears,
Aud win your wishos with sighs;
Have all the hidden sweetness in the years
And all the perfect skies;
Oh • then vou think the way would be most
clear? •
My very dear,
Tour lite would lie all wan aud weird in
gloom;
Your soul would pass us sightless as the
bloom
T>t that lost rose, I tear."
—Juliet C. Marth, in Chrittian Union.
A POOR MAN'S WIFE.
"My choice is made,sister Belle. Give
me your approval."
The elder sister looked at a couple of
open letters lying on the writing desk
Before which the speaker sat, her cold,
gray eyes softening a little as she re
plied :
"If you tell me which of the two
you have chosen, I can answer you."
" You ought to know without being
told." Stella laughed. "Clarence, of
oourse."
Belle Lawson looked serious.
" Stella" she said, " I'm sorry. Not
that I bear Clarence Ilenshaw any ill
will, but, child, you are not suited to be
a poor man's wife. Remember you are
proud, and have been reared in ease
and comfort. Follow my advice, and
marry Henry Lakcman."
"No, Belle; I won't marry Henry
Lakeman if be was a hundred times
richer than he is."
She slipped a picture into his en
velope, witn a long glance at the view
it imaged.
" It's a lovely place," she sighed,
"and I would like to live there."
The sister was watching, and stopping
kissed the smooth, white brow, while
she said:
" Don't be too hasty, Stella. If you
covet this pretty home of Henry Lake
man's. aecept it."
"But I love Clarence Hensh&w. I
prefer a cottage with him to a mansion
with Henry.
Miss I.awson turned to the window
wi'h a sorry look. Some sweet dream
of her own childhood was in her mem
ory. perhaps, but she held it worse than
folly to indulge in regrets. Love, in
her estimation, was no balance in the
scale of wealth.
"Stella," she continued, very gravely, '
" I have acted the part of a motiier for
many years; my wish has ever lieen ;
that you form a wealthy marriage. You
love luxury, you ciyoy display, and I
am not saying too much when I add
that you worship beautiful apparel
Henry can give you ail of
these. Clarence Ilenshaw cannot. As
his wife you will be subject to all manner j
of privations; be content to live in a
common way, stint and economize and
manage the best you can. How long
will that suit a girl of your tastes?
Think "Well of it. I shall let you hpve
your own choice in regard to marriage."
"My mind is made up," Stellu re
sponded, readily.
Bhc took up the view, slipping a let- j
ter into its envelope while she spoke.
"If I favored his suit; I was to keep
it, sister Belle," she continued, touching
the edge of the wrapper to her rosy lips,
and sealing it with a heavy slap of the j
hand. " I do not, you will observe. I'll
never be sorry I know," she murmured,
turning the envelope to look at the
superscription.
" Your happiness is within your own
grasp, Stella. You'll rocnll my words i
some day." And with a stately gait,
BellelLawson left her.
Stella ran lightly upstairs to her own
room and touched the bell in great
haste.
• " You will oblige me by mailing this
at once." she said to the servant who
answered her call, handing him this
venr envelope, " and," she said, smiling
ana blushing. " be careful of this," put
ting another letter into his hand.
" Leave it with no one but the person to
trhom it is addressed. Mind I" she
railed, as he turned to obey.
"There'll be no mistake, miss," and
that night a perfumed note lay on Clar
ence Henshaw's pillow, aad be, foolish
fellow, was transported to the upper
heaven of delight over its contents.
Three months later they were mar
ried. They were a happy and hopeful
ooupie. The life upon which they en
tered was like a new and unexplored
country, but Clarence meant to work
hard,, and felt little or no doubt in re
gard to their future. He was tqual to
any undertaking in bis own determina
tion that would promote his wife's happi
ness, and as to Stella, she would do
anything to help bar husband. .
He haa been a head bookkeeper for
many years, and had the promise of
something a little better yet the com
ing season. So the first few months of
their married life ran smoothly. They
rented a house in a pleasant part of the
city, kept a servant, and Stella wore
'.he pretty clothee which had been pro
vided at the time of her marriage, and
wondered why sister Belle had such
funny notions about marrying a poor
man.
But toward the close of the first year
of their wedded life, hie firiu was said
to be under heavy liabilities, and the
anniversary of their marriage found the
house bankrupt and Clarence out of a
situation.
He applied at this and at that place,
hut month after month slipped by and
he found no opening. They moved out
of the house and took etieaper room in
another part of the city. By this time
their ianda began to run low, and Stella
wanted something new for her ward
robe. Already she had begun to show
signs of discontent.
" I shall find something by-and-bye,'
the husband said, bravely.
Itwas at this trying time that a little
spcok of humanity was put into Stella's
arms, and its feeble cry told that the re
sponsibility of motherhood was liers.
" I am the happiest man alivo," ex
claimed Clarence, carressing wife and
child. "The very happiest," he re
peated again, kissing the baby boy.
" Let pride go to the dogs, Stella,"
he added, remembering that now his re
sponsibility was greater than before.
" They want workmen on the new city
hall. " I'll take my hammer—it will
give us bread."
She ought to have been contented,
ought to have thought with pride of the
man who would thus brave the world's
opinion.
He went in early morning, and came
home late at night, as other workmen
did, his handsome face glowing with
love.
I Sister Belle had said that her tastes
were luxurious, and she wanted a pretty
home now, and tine apparel for herself
and baby.
The people of the world in which she
had lived had never to count on their
money to know if they could buy a new
dress. She had never been taught to
make the best of whatever circumstances
you may be placed in, and why should
j she now ?
The little privations she eudurod wor
| tied and vexed her, and in a little while
i the sweet-tempered woman grow moody
; and down-henrted. She became careless
I in her dress, and instead of the cheerful
| little wife lie used to see, he found a
j gloomy woman and a disorderly house.
But he never complained.
"Stella is homesick," he would say,
! "and the care of baby is too much for
her. I must make some money," and
his hammer rang witli redoubled energy.
Yet every day her discontent grew
more apparent.
"How can you expect me to live
among such surroundings, Clarence?"
was her appeal when the husband
begged her to lie of good cheer.
"It's cruel in you," she sobbed. " I
want to be back again in my old home,
among my own friends."
The warm glow cnuio to his face, and
he drew her tenderly toward him with
out a word, hut there was a look piteous
to see in his handsome eyes, while his
resolve was to work still harder.
There a came a day, later a little—"for
i some days must be dark and dreary
when it did seem that matters had come
to a crisis.
The city hall was finished long ago,
„the Odd Fellows' building completed
and the last stroke had been given to the
new church. Clarence must look for
something new. Jennie, who had
minded Freddy for two or three months,
find to go, and all the household cares
fell npon Stella's hands.
They had moved from place to place
since Freddy's birth, hoping to find a
house with which Stella would be con
tent.
" But those people are all alike," she
said, " and I muy as well lie in one place
as another," was her reply to Clarence,
when he suggested that they move into
a new block.
It was unwomanly in her to say this,
she knew, the moment the words es
caped her lips, and she thought to run
after her husband and beg Ins forgive
ness, hut just then Freddy caught at her
dress, causing her to spill the water she
was pouring into the tea kettle, which
only increased her vexation.
"You cross little troublesome thing!"
she exclaimed, impatiently. "Take
that!" laying her hand heavily on the
■ little bare shoulders. "I'm sick to
death with having you always hanging
to my skirts."
With this she let fall the earthen
pheher she held in her hand, and drop
ping into the nearest chair, hurst into
hysterical weeping.
Freddy, with the prints of her fingers
still red on his ncek, toddled to her side,
and tried to climb into her lap. But she
pushed him away crossly, with—
"Go play with your blocks and
horses; I don't want you near me;" and
her hand was raised to lay on the rosy
cheek.
" Dou't do anything you'll be sorry
for by-and-bye, Stella," Clarence saiu,
coming into the room just thou.
Something in his face stayed her
hand just on the moment, and she rose
to iter feet, dashing with shame and
anger.
" I thought you'd gofte down town,"
she replied, sliarply. "Oh, dear, if I'd
minded sister Belie I shouldn't have
been here. She was right. I had no
business to marry a poor man."
" You're not cjuite yourself this morn
ing, Stella," and his eyes were full ol
unshod tears as he caught sight of the
re i marks on her baby's neck.
" I)o you suppose I can endure every
thing ?' she cried, spitefully.
" You are nervous and tired, dear.
Come here," and he put out his hand to
clasp her.
Hue glided from him and went into the
ad ; -Mningroom.
something wet fell on the baby's
head, and he pressed him closely to bis
bosom as he caught the sound of her
sobbing.
" I have heard of something new this
morning, Stella, and I'm going to New
York by the next train."
He tried to say it cheerfully.
"You're always bearing of something
new," wu ber quick reply; "but what
does it amount to?"
" So I am hoping for something bet
ter, and think I have found it now."
He rocked Freddie to sleep, pat him
into his ertb, then went to the door of
ills wife's room.
"Are you going to kise hie good-bye,
Stella!" lie asked, opening the door very
softly. I may be gone a day or two*'
"No," she replied, coldly, "you'll be
hack soon enough."
"I will come as soon at I can; but 1
might never return, you know."
"See if you are not hnck as soon as
you can come, with the same old
story."
Clarence turned quickly, but she
saw the look on liis face and never for
got it.
She beard him cross the room, and
knew he bent over Freddie's crib and
kissed the little sleeper again and again.
"He'll come back to me before he
really goes." site whisked '*> herself,
starting up and voing toward the door;
hut a turn in uie street bid Idin from
sight when she reached Urn window.
. lie had gone, aad for the first time with
out kissing her good-bye.
She sat quite still until Freddy awoke;
then with a cry of terror ehe ran across
the ball to the nearest neighbor, with
" Please come, Mrs. Wilson, my baby's
dying."
Mrs. Wilson came, for though rough
of manner, she was kind oi heart.
" He's in a fit." she said, the moment
her eyes rested on the little sufferer.
" Bring me some water, quick !" she
called, "and help to got nfThis clothes."
Stella obeyed.
" Hold him so," was her command,
putting him into the bath. " I will run
home and get some medicine. Such
women as you ain't lit for mothers," blio
continued, returning with her hands
full of bottles.
"Oh, Freddy," cried Stella, dropping
on her knees, if you'll only get w#U, I
will try so hard to bear everything.
"And what trials have you to bear ?"
asked Mrs. Wibon. "You have a
pretty home," looking about the room,
" if it was put in order.
" It isn't like the house I'm used to."
" Young people don't expect to begin
where i tic old ones left off. They must
make their own homes."
"I never understood it so. Sister
Belle is the only mother I ever knew,
and her idviot was never to marry a
poor man."
"So you keep finding fault and com
plaining when your husband is trying
in every possible way to make an honest
living. It is a wonder that you haven't
driven him to drink long ago."
" But my husbnnd is a good man," re
plied Stella, warmly, resenting the last
part of the speech
" He hits shown himself to be a good
man."
The woman snid it in good faith,
wrapping Freddy in soft flannels, and
administering a quieting potion. She
had heen watching t lie movements of
this couple ever since they came to live
in the house.
" My baby will get well, won't he?"
was said, pleadingly, and the poor thing
sobbed again as if her heart would
break.
"Yes, indeed."
" And you stay with me through the
night?" forgetting she was one of "those
people."
" I'd stay with you a wlioie blessed
week," replied tiue-hoarted Mrs. Wil
son, " if I could make you a wife worthy
of your husband."
"Tell mo what I shall do and I'll do
it faithfully and willingly, and without
complaining."
All through the long night hours,
while Freddy lay between life and
death, Mrs. Wilson worked over him
bravely, and told to the girl-mother
chapters of her own life-experience.
There were passages over which Stella
wept bitterly, and when morning
dawned, giving back the child from
danger, in place of the fickle, unreasona
ble woman, there was one ready to
meet life's work with a firm purpose and
strong heart.
She tidied up each apartment, and in
stead oi going about in a dowdy wrap-
Eer put on a fresh dress, arranged her
air becomingly, and changed the
pucker about her mouth for her own
rosy Hps.
" You're a pretty little thing," Mrs.
Wilson told her, when she had fastened
a knot of blue ribbon in her blonde
hair. "See after baby now. I'll look
in every now and then through the day,
and to-night will come back to you.
You're husband will be here to-morrow
morning?"
"Yes," replied Stella, with a bright
look in her eyes. "He will be here oy
ten o'clock."
After all it was a long time to wail,
she thought. She was so impatient to
tell I him and she would kiss him as
many times as he wished.
"Yes, indeed," she exclaimed, joy
fully, bending over Freddie's crib, "we 11
kiss papa a hundred thousand times,
won't we, dear?"
" I do wish Clarence would come,"
she kept saying next morning. " What !
detains him?" she continued, a hen the ;
clock was on the stroke of twelve.
" What if—" and her heart was like '
lead in her bosom as she recalled the
"look she last saw on hts face. " What
if he never comes back!" she murmured,
going into her own room.
" Mrs. \N ilson," she willed, "where is
my husband t"
In an instant the dear, good soul was
beside her, resting a band tenderly on
the aching head.
True-hearted woman! She shrank
from saying it had been a dreadful night
on the sound, and that a steamer had
collided with the New York boat. "Her
husband travels by boat," had been her
conclusion.
Sttdla caught at her arm. the soundjof
her voice answering Freddy, and with
a cry she fell.
Poor, tired, unexperienced wife and
mother ! Waa the ordeal so ordered ?
With the help of a neighbor Mrs. Wil
son laid her on the bed.
" Kun for the doctor," she said to
Miss Williams.
" But you don't know—"
" I do," she interrupted. "Mrs. llen
sliaw will have a run of nervous fever,
and whether her huband is dead or
alive, I can't any.
When Stella opened her eyes again it
was nearly night. She knew no one
about the bed, but talked to Clarence
and Freddy and sister Belle.
She was going to help her husband,
now. She couin earn money by teach
ing music, or painting, or " might have
a few pupils in dancing," she added.
" But forgive me for striking—" and
her arms were put up as if to clasp
something, when she dczed again.
liftte tiiat owning Clarence come in
sight of home. Contrary to Mrs. Wil
son's ooiyeeture, he came by a different
route.
He had thought to telegraph, " But
Stella won't worry," he said, " if I am
late."
The light faded from his eyes and his
face turned ghastly pale when he looked
into the rooms.
" Both gone?" he groaned, walking
from the bed to the crib.
"N0.n0," Mrs. White said, comfort
ingly. "Baby's better and your wife
wUI come out of Ibis. All she needs is
good nursing, and that she shall have,"
turning aside her head and drying her
tears with the corner of her aprM.
What could iwe do if such as she
were not stationed nil.along the walks of
life?
It wiui pninful tn listen to the wild
talk. "If I might endure it," Clarence
said so many times. When at last
Stella awoke from the terrible dreams,'
her husband was bending over her.
"Clarence," she snid, very softly, at
first, "Clarence," she repeated, putting
her arms about his neck," if you'll for
give me for striking Freddy, I'll kiss
you, oh, so many time!"
Foolish fellow! hv cried like, a baby.
" Listen, Stella." he said, as soon as be
could command his voice, " listen, I did
get the situation, and you can have
everything you want," twhinghls lips
to tier cheeks and forehead, " and you
are going to have such a pretty house in
Brooklyn!"
"All I want is your love," clasping
him olose, " and that Freddy get well. I
am ready to be a poor man's wife."
TIMXLT TOPICS.
.One of the unexpected sources of
wheat supply for Europe is the river
Platte country in Bouth America.
Large shipments of new-crop wheat
have already been made by Bteamers to
Liverpool and Bordeaux. Australia,
also, has now heoome a serious com
petitor of the United States, and during
the past few months lias shipped e ore
mouß quantities of wheat to England
by Suez, canal steamers. Countries in
the southern hemisphere finish their
winter wheat harvests at just the time
when the supply from northern coun
tries begins to lie exhausted.
The Revue Indtulrielle states that a
German manufactory is turning out over
a ton a day of glucose made from old
linen r;urs. These r tgs, which are com
posed of hard vegetable libers, are treated
with sulphuric acid, which converts
them into dextrine. The latter product
thus obtained undergoes a washing with
milk of lime, and is then treated with a
fresh supply of acid stronger than the
former, when the mass is at once trans
formed and crystallizes into glucose, of
which "rich" confections and jellies
may be made. The process is said to be
a very cheap one, and the glucose chemi
cally identical with grape sugar. A
strong outcry, however, lias arisen
against the manufacture of grape sugar
from rags, and the enterprise is under
stood to Ik' in danger of being interlered
with by the German government.
A French scientist has invented a
number of small electric lamps which
can be used by the surgeon in illuminat
ing the throat, the mouth, or even the
more internal parts of the body, while
performing an operation, it is now sug
gested that it would be possible to ma
terially assist the physician in his diag
nosis, by means of a powertui electric
light. On the assumption that the hu
man body is only semi-opaque, it is
proposed to place the patient in such a
position in connection with a dark
screen, that it is probable n powerful
electric light would sufficiently illum
inate his interior to enable the physician
in a dark room to see so much of the
workings of the principal organs as
would assist him to arrive at a correct
conclusion as to the nature of the case.
If such a scheme is possible it would
undoubtedly be of much advantage to
medicine.
A New York paper asserts that "it has
been shown by recent testimony before
the committee of the legislature, in one
of the most enlightened of the New
England States, that there are dozens
of men in regular practice in the United
States whose diplomas, though proceed
ing from incorporated college*, repre
sent nothing intellectual whatever, but
were simply bought and paid for.
without pretense ol examination, ma
triculation or lecture tickets, for a cer
tain stipulated sum, not usually exceed
ing $25 or s3n. Philadelphia appears,
according to a late number of the Stati
cal Record of this city, to lie the great
center of operations of this class, and
to i>osm?*s several duly incorporated
nodical colleges that make a regular
business of selling authorizations to
kill to persons not competent to kill
with scientific accuracy."
Not iong ago a Vicncse artist ex
hibited a masterpiece of painting, a
historical subject in the treatment of
which he introduced a wonderful head
-that of an old man, venerable and
benevolent. All Vienna fell to talking
about the old man's face, and one day a
mysterious stranger called upon the
artist, and r felicitating him warmly
on the success of his picture, asked him
confidentially for the address of his
model. A few hou r s later the mysteri
ous stranger and another detective had
eoiiared and carried off the original of
that venerable and benevolent portrait
—one Veneesias Guneseb, ngea sixty
seven, a notorious and dangerous crim
inal who had broken jail and had
hitherto su voided in eluding the sharp
pursuit of the officers. Thus Venoeslas
Guneseb. by bis good looks, gained a
models' (be, the admiration oi a great
capital—and imprisonment for life.
The Moscow industrial exhibition,
which waa to have been opened on the
first of May, as an additional celebra
tion of the czar's twenty-fifth anniver
sary, ia postponed till next year, chiefly
on account of the present disturbed state
of public affairs. It wilt not be inter
national. as was reported, confining it
self strictly to lUissinn produce. In
fact, it appears intended for a duplicate
of that of 1872, and will probably oc
cupy the same site.viz., the slope around
the foot of the Kremlin wall. One of
the leading attractions on that occasion
was the appearance of a number of
Central- Asian Harts and Kirghiz, whom
a shrewd Russian had hired to hang
around his refreshment bar, and draw
attention hv their outlandish dreas and
features. Another curious episode was
the bewilderment of a group of Russian
Consents at the sight of a small wooden
uilding, the character of which they
earned at in vain, till a passer-by in
formed them that it was a model or one
of their own cottages.
A worthy couple in Norriatown, Pa.,
have been wonderfully blessed either
by an active Providence or an imagina
tive reporter. The husband is now in
his eignty-third year, hot is remarkably
active His sight i emained good rather
longer than is the case with most old
men, bat at length failed with all the
phenomena usual in advancing lite, and
for sixteen years he was obliged to nee
glueses. At length he found great diffi
culty in obtaining spectacles to suit
him. They seemed to hinder rather
than help bis sight, and, to his own
surprise, tie found the power of his eyes
returning. For several years he has
discarded glasses altogether, and is now
able to read the finest print used in daily
newspapers with perfect ease. His wife
is now in her seventy-seventh year. At
about the usual age her te 'th began to
fail and she finally lost tliem ail. in the
enmmcr of 1878 she began to be troubled
with pain in the upper jaw, and soon a
full thinl set of teeth made their appear
ance. They grew to their usual size and
have since remained firm and in good
condition, hut no new teeth appeared in
the lower jaw.
Various devices have been invented
for marking live stock and wearing a®-
Erel and other tilings, so people will
ow them when they see them, but no
one seems to have studied out a design
lor marking time exoept in the old way
by pawing np the earth with one toot.—
Ktokml Oate Oity.
SAO SCENES Of IBISH ■MEBY.
WMCMMM oft** DirtUlact-Harrtw
las Details of (fea DaatttaUss of the
People -flaw He lie ft* lMstrlhated.
The New York Tril/unt'a special cor
respondent in Ireland spent a Sunday at
Westport, county Mayo, investigating
the results of the famine in that region.
At the bamirt of Thornhill he attended
church. Alter the services were over,
he writes, the Sunday-school met and a
brace of babies were christened. Mean
while I walked down the road with one
of the men to see an Irish cabin. I
tainted out a low cottage and asked
ini to take me into it. It was a filthy
hovel—the foulest and dreariest human
habitation I had ever seen. Alas! only
five dsys have passed since I saw it and
already I remember it as a tolerable de
cent cabin! There was no floor save the
cold earth; a call'had Its share of the
room; it was a stable, a kitchen, a nur
sery and a sitting-room all in one. As
in most of these Irish hovels there is a
large niche in the wall near the fire, just
large enough to hold a rude bed. There,
covered with horrible rags, lay an aged
woman, ghastly, yellow and gasping-
There she had lain lor a month or two,
" dying of slow decline." No American
family would have suffered such rags as
covered this dying woman to stay even
in their ash-barrels for a single day.
The mother sat near the open fireplace—
a young woman with a strong and
comely face and tlie head of a Roman
matron. Her infant, in its home-made
wooden cradle, was beside her. There
was a little dark room back—the room
where the children slept. Six children
lived here—a family of nine persons
The mother and children were in rags,
but the woman wore her rags with
dignity.
I had no wish to see any other cabins,
so I went back to the church. Most of
the men had gone home, but there was
a crowd of about fifty women and a
score of old men around the vestry-door.
It was raining: hut rfo one stirred. The
tickets for Indian meal had to be dis
tributed as soon as the priest was at
leisure: ?ind for this meager help from
the charity of the world these poor
mothers waited with a patient anxiety.
There were few young women, and fewer
girls among them. Tbey were mostly
women of from thirty to sixty years of
age. At least a third of them were
barefooted. Not one of them had a
lionnet on her head. They covered
their Leads with the hoods of their old
cloaks, or with little faded woolen
shawls. Not a inerry-eyed woman
among them all! Deep wrinkles and
sad faces everywhere not the fine
noble lines that the old artist Thought
h&d chiseled; but the sharp gutters
made by a torrent of calamity, the dark
shadows cast by mean care and grovel
ing want. They were the sign manuals
and signets—hunger and despair.
The priest came out, and. one hy one.
read the names on the little handful of
orders for two stones, or twenty-eight
pounds, of Indian meal. This was all
the allowance that the funds of the local
committee permitted to be given to fami
lies of from five to nine persons per
week. One by one wretched women
from the crowd came up and took the
order that bore her name, and courte
sied and thanked the donors and God.
They were soon distributed. A babel
of appeals! "Sure I have five children
and not a mouthful for them!" This
was one of the cries; and it wss the
truth. Again and again the priest told
them that he could do no more.
" But," he added, " I have one blank
order. It must be given to the Jvrry
poorest family here. Now tell me who
Is the poorest?"
Only one man named himself, bat he
was thrown back by a dozen indignant
voices. Not another one of the eager
vol 11 lint spoke named lier own wants.
It was a noble tribute to these poor
Irish starvelings—every one seemed
anxious to point out some one more
wretched than herself. And when one
man and Ills needs were stated—" Sure,
he i* the worst oflT!" shunted a chorusof
women. Whatever centuries of mis
rule and hunger may Lave made these
people, it lias not quenched the holiest
light that illuminates the soul.
We drove back to Murrisk, that we
had passed on our way to Thornhill.
It is a cluster of hovels built higftcldy
piggeldy along the shore and up the
sides of the little hill near one of the
arms of the bay. There is a rough bar
rier of stone across, the water, which
was built to keep the tide from overflow
ing the sweet water of the iittle pond
that empties into the bay. Without it
the people could not drink the water,
and there are no springs or wells near
by. It was badly constructed, and has
been partly demolished by the high
winds and the tides. It is dangerous
crossing when the wind is high. It re
quited the utmost care for us to keep
our feet in walking over it.
A woman lay dying in one of these
hovels. Father Lynskey entered to ad
minister the last sacrament. As I am
not a Catholic, the priest advised me to
visit the other cabins while he sought
the dying woman. I went into (me of
them. I shall have to glow half a yard
or so before I can truthfully be called a
tall man, and yet I had to t-end nearly
double before I could get through tlfr
door. There was no fireplace. There
was only a bole in the roof at one end
of the room, out of which the smoke
made its way at its leisure. A little
peat fire was burning on the hearth,
or rather beneath the hole in the roof.
There was no ceiling, of course, for none
of these cabins have a ceiling. There
was no floor but the ground—few of
them have even a few flat stones here or
there. There was no window. T.ie
rafters and the furxe sticks on which
the thatch rests, and the walls, and
everything in the wretched room, were
begrimmed with smoke. There was no
dresser for the plates and cups. There
were no chairs There was only one
mean rickety little home-made table.
There were only two low rude stools
for sluing on A pig was eating out of
a kettle on the floor. Two or three
hens were picking up a few grains of
meal Near the fire there was a rude
bed, covered with two filthy blankets.
There was an inner room. I entered it.
It was the children's bedroom. Its
furniture consisted of three little heaps
of rags. There were six persons in this
family. The children were ragged and
cold. As I took notes in this Irish
home, the neighbors thronged in until
the place was full, and before I oould
complete my notes I had to ask them to
stand awav from the little door, for
there was no other way of getting light.
The woman of the house was clan in
filthy rags. She was barefooted, fill*
plaintively told me that she could not
go to mass now. for she had not a de
cent dress to cover her rags.
Tats was not the worst bevel. There
were others smaller and more wretched,
both bete and at a similar cluster of
hovels called Killenaooff. Bat it ia use
mto describe them oneby one. Every
where I saw cows,.calves, pigs, horse*
asses and hena living in the same room
with young mother* and children—in
the aame damp, dark, slippery, smoki
hovcl*,half stable snd half home; every
where I aaw old men and old women
ragged and barefooted, and hungry and
cold and despairing.
At Killenacoff the good priest offered
to expend a sum that had been sent b,r
the twenty-four families of that hamlet
to him, in paying them wagea at the
rate of a shilling a day to build a road
for their own uae, so that they might
earn their scanty meals, and save their
self-respect. They gladly accepted th<
offer. It is to the eredit of those Urv
ing people that tbey do not want relief
but work; that they are anxious to b<
employed, and only accept alms hcr-au*
their families would perish from hung,
without it.
I shall tell of only one more viii*
As we crossed the " barrier"— Fatht-
Ly/iskey was some distance behind v
the time—l aaw two littlecfaiidren, with
hare red feet and blue lips, sitting at the
roadside near what seemed to lit tL<
| roof of a pig-sty or little stable, for ti,<
I roof was flush with the road. I notice.
I that they were rather more ta*U-fu ,
j clad falbeit in rags) and that th<*
seemed of a finer organization than mo-"'
of the children tliat I had seen. Th'-ir
far es were clean. A slim blond, wornar.
of thirty or more, whore face showed
traces of early beauty, stood with d<
jeetcd countenance near them. A I
looked a second time at tlie little 'T<\-
turcs the woman spoke to me and °-a;i
that slic had not been able to get any re.
lief, and that her children had not eat'-s
a mouthful since yesterday It
now afternoon.
" Where do you live?'' I asked
••There!"
She pointed to a bouse that I had sup
posed to be a little stable. It wa* bui t
between the barrier and the road. S|,<-
had put it up with her own hands.
said. I turned to the man who
guiding me.
"Is that true?" I asked him—outo:
her hearing, of course.
"Yes." he answered, coldly.
1 made my way down to when u.f
door was, followed by the guide and tb<-
woman. I had to bend low to enter ti
but. It was not fifteen feet by ten. Thtr<
was no window; there was no firej lac.
there was no bole in the roof.even.r.the
smoke to escape, and only three bits < !
turf burned on the hearth. A litt>
white kitten, singed and dirty and
famished, was crouching near tk*
semblance of a fire. At one end 01 ttf
hovel was a rude bed, and two diny
rags for covering. The straw of th
roof was half-rotten; when it rained
hard, the woman said, the rain cam.
through into the cabin. There was no
furniture save a kettle and a tabic and a
stool. "Where is your husband?" I
asked. "He is not here," said tb- mat
quickly. I gave the poor wretched
woman half a crown to buv food for hr
children.
Punishment of Kilmer.
Mi - James Greenwood has publish;
a frightlul account of the silent system
which is in operation at the Hollow*}
model prison in Ixmdon:
It is an offense for a prisoner to sr>u
one word, and he is never addressed n*
j oept in whispers, so that he mar be it
| prison two years without hearing the
natural sound of the human voice. The
effect of this is so terrible on the mine
j that prisoners will speak out in despcr*
I lion, at the risk of any punishment,
I rather than endure that horrible silcnce-
The prisoners never sec one another,
nut remain in perpetual solitude. One
j poor wretch driven to desperation by
: nine months'solitude and silence, reck
j lessiy broke ot;t, in Mr. Greenwood)
presence, " For God sake, governor, put
me in another cell. Put mo somewhere
else. I have counted the bricks in ttrf
cell I am in till ruv eyes ache."
The request of the tortured wrcich
| was refused.
There is a fine hole in each oeii, u<!
a* the wardens wear shoes of india rub
ber soles the prisoners ran never be
sure of being alone.
Those condemned to the treadmi.
have to ascend twelve hundred steps
every alternate twenty minutes for six
hours. And this is m a place so hot
and close that prisoners often lose ia
perspiration three stone in as muj
months.
Every day the prisoners are takes to
the chapel so arranged that thev CM
sec no one save the chaplain, and him
only through sn iron grating And thus
is the order of devotion observed. War
dens are constantly on the watch, est
for a single instant they, through the
whole ot service, depart from the rigid
rule of " eyes right." They must look
steadily at the preacher; must raise and
lower their prayer book with the elbows
squared and all at once, like so dien t
drill. They may not scrape their feet
without having aftcrwarl to cxpiaia
the movement. Tney scarcely wink an
eye or sigh without danger of "rebuke or
punishment. God help them, poor
wretches.
Sewing rsr a Circe*.
Up in the seoond story, in a large par
titioned room looking out on Ridge ave
nue, eight or ten women were eagar-d
on as many different articles. Rome
were making saddle cloths with numer
ous small steel button* like eyelets
placed there for effect. The cloth **■
of black velvet, with gilt fringe and
with many different-colored figure*
worked upon it. Then there were costs
for the performers, black velvet costs,
with "puffbd sleeves and red silk trim
ming and gilt buttons. All around the
room were huge stacks of material ret
to be worked up. Tiro or three sewing
machines were in the room, and upon
these aa many women were busily em
ployed. Others were sewing by nana.
One great wagon is set apart, when the
circus starts out for tlie season, for the
wardrobes. It is arranged with shelve*,
and in here all the different articles are
placed. In addition to the wagons the
circus has ten or twelve passenger care
and upward of sixty flat cars, by which
they transport the circus, wagons and
all, from one place to another, when
tbey are out for the season. All the fine
horses are kept ia the stables and gieJ
a mat during the winter. The dnut
horses and ponies are sent out in tne
country to pasture. The anim* •**
kept in huge stationary cages, In one
part of the large brick building. In
center of the room an Immense circular
stove is alwsys kept Th *
the place and keeps the animals com
fortable. During the winter thej
fed on beef and horse meat.
nHants are not to be found In this
having n house set apart for them on
another cart of the grounds.—PhM*#**-
p&M IkHM.