My Little Woman.
A homely cottage, quaint and old,
lt t) H li ptttu thick with green and gold
And wind-sown grasses;
Unchanged it stands in sun and rain,
And seldom .through the quiet lane
A footstep passes.
Yet here nay little woman dwelt,
And saw the throud of winter melt
From meads and fallows;
And heaid the yellow-hammer sing
A tiny welcome to the spring
From budding sadows.
She saw the early morning sky
Blnsh with a tender wild-rose dye
Above the larches;
And watched the enmeon sunset burn
Behind the summer plumes of fern
in woodland arches.
My lillic woman gone away
To Uuil btr land which knows, they say,
No more sun-setting!
1 wonder ii her gentle soul,
bevutriy resting at the goal,
Has learnt forgetting'
tiy heart wakes up and cries in vain,
She gave mo love, I gave her pain
• While she was living;
I know not when her spirit fled,
But those who stood beside bor sail*
She died forgiving.
My dove has found a better rest,
And yet I love the empty nest
She left neglected;
I tread the very path ahe trod,
And ask—in her new home with God,
Am I expected?
II it were but the Father's will,
To let me know she loves me still,
Tins aching sorrow
Would turn to hops, and I oould say,
Perchance she whispers, day by day,
" He comes to-morrow."
1 linger in the silent lane,
And high above the clover plain
The clouds arc riven;
Across the fields she used to know
The light breaks, and the wind sighs low,
" Loved, and lorgiven."
IMP, OR ANGEL?
My aunt Urania is a woman of great
energy and penetratiop. If she sets her
self to discover a secret, she never rests
until she has enlightened herself down
to its inmost recesses. When my pretty
friend Elizabeth Terry was holding us
all in suspense AS to her intentions with
regard to the interesting widower who
now speaks of her so affectionately AS
" my present wife" (significant not only
ot a certain past, but of a possible
future). Aunt Urania invited the wary
Elizabeth to take a long country drive.
" And, my dear, I'll have it out of her,
ii we don t get back till midnight." she
said. They were gone only two hours,
and my aunt entered with a triumphant
face, tne grays all in a lather froui the
victorious haste of her return, while in
strong contrast was Elisabeth's serene
unconsciousness.
" How did you do it?" I inquired, at
the first possible moment. "Did she
confess it allP"
"Confess! my dear, not a word. Bhe
hasn't an idea that she has betrayed
herself. I only asked her, quite casu
ally, how many children Mr. Willi is
has, and she answered "Three," with
such a look, such a sigb 1"
The event proved my nunt's acute
ness, and made her more than ever to us
all an object of admiration and terror.
It was rather unfortunate for me that
Aunt Urania put off her projected jour
ney to Europe for six months—the six
months which decided my fate in life.
I should have enjoyed them much more,
and managed my affairs much more
smoothly, uninspected by her keen eyes,
unadvised by her keener tongue. I
shall always believe it showed a very
persistent state of feeling both in Harry
and me not to retire discomfited from
so watchful a sentinel.
"Yes, of course, your attachment to
the child is very natural, my dear," she
would say, "as I said to Mrs. Dubois
only yesterday. ' Nothing,'l said, 'can
be more natural. Susan Bard more,
Henry Bent's first wife, was like a sister
to my niece; no friends could be more
intimate; and of course she feels very
much for the little boy."'
" I wish you wouldn't talk so, aunty!"
1 exclaimed. "Henry Bent's first wife!
I never heard that be had more than
one!"
"Oh. no, not as yet, my dear, but it
is only a question of time; and pretty
general y a very abrupt question, and
short space allowed for an answer. Of
course he must have somebody to look
after that child; I never saw in all my
lile a child that needed it more The
luoit saucy, spoiled little wretch—a per
fect little imp!"
'Aunty! He is a perfect little angel,"
snio I. "A* ftr can , Coralie keeps him
ir beautiful order, and he is entirely
1 • otthy and happy here in the country.
/ n . it is all very well tosay, * Of course
he must have somebody to take care ot
tie child, of course he must marry,'
when you know that if he had no child
you would sav, 'Of course be must
mil try. poor fellow! he is all alone; if
he hud evt n a child to care for, It would
be oiflbrint." For my part," I added,
" I Dale second marriages."
"Oh, you do." said Aunt Urania;
and then ensued a pause. brokrn by
e 'bumping at my door with little closed
fists.
" J/et me in, let me in, Nora," said
the dear little voice, in just his mother's
old, sweet, imperative way. And the
dancing eyes that laugh up at me out of
that fair little face are Husie's very eyes.
•I want you, my own Nora," said the
darling. " There Is a little calf In the
barn, and papa says I can go to see it,
and you must take me."
" Hoity-toity 1" said Aunt Urania.
" That is n pretty way to talk to a lady.
Must take von, indeed."
" I'apa didn't say just that, did be
Bardie?" 1 asked, annoyed to leel my
self coloring under aunty's keen eye.
"He said I mustn't go unless I had
the best of care; and I know he meant
you, because Coralie is very careless; be
said she was yesterday, when I got my
boots wot. And the old cow butts at
me if 1 go near her. So you must
como, Nora darling; Bardie wnnts you
so bad!"
Who could resist those eyes?— that
coaxing voice? I had followed just
such eyes and voice all my life, and I
followed them now.
So did Aunt Urania, with her most
investigating spectacles perched on her
nose.
" Well, Bardie," she remarked, cheer
fully, "if you say wo must, and papa
says we must, why, we must."
Bardie stood stock-still, with an evil
look on his face.
" I didn't mean you," he said.
" Oh, my dear little boy. that wasn't
polite," I whispered ; but he only gave
me a hug, ana turned to aunt with a
seraphic Bmlle.
" You'd better not go. The cow is
quite a dangerous one," he said, in a
very civil tone. " And she doesn't like
red things; they make her furious.
She just runs right at them and tosses
them."
" What is the cbi d taiking alx>ut,
oss what? I'm not a red thing, I
hope."
" About your legs," said Bardie," yery
distinctly. " You hold your dress up so
high that the cow will get mad. I
shouldn't wonder if she killed you "
Aunty vouchsafed no reply, hut strode
majes ically on, scorning to veil by one
half incu the somewha unnecessary
conspicuousness of her long scarlet
stockings. Bardie looked at her very
hard.
" A very cross dog lives in the bam,
he remarked. "He bites people. Not
young ladies, Nora darling, nor children
—he i s real good to little bays, but
other people he bites."
I could not speak, and I did not dare
to laugh. Auntie's face was awful.
" I am going to the bam," she said,
briefly.
We made our way through the ducks
and hens, skii ting perilously a yard full
of pigs, and tremblingly passing a small
window in a shed, where protruded a
great head, wb h short horns and soft
beautiful eves, but a low rumbling note
proclaimed that it was the bull, the ter
ror of our field walks and grove picnics.
Not that we had really encountered him
in the body, but iu the spirit he always
seemed to haunt the next field or be
screened by the shadiest tree.
" Oli, Bardie. I don't like the looks of
him," I whispered.
" i ake hold of my hand; I'll take care
of you." said the little knight; and wc
passed the monster that looked yearn
ingly at us in our freedom, and gave a
resounding bellow that shuddered
through and through me.
Bardie laughed at my fears.
" What arc you 'fmid of, Nora swcetP
He has got a his; ring in his nose, and
can't do anything. Anybody can lead
hitii about. Papa said once that if you
could only put a rinj? on a person, you
could lead him by his nose.''
"What's that?" said Aunt Urania,
from behind
We entered the bam, lul 1 to overflow
ing with sweet new hay, and fragrant
with its pcrlumc, and witli the breath
of the patient cow that lay contentedly
in her comer, with her head raised in
watchful care of her little weak-legged
scrawny offspring. I had never seen a
very young calf before, and was disap
pointed.
"Veal!" pronounced Aunt Urania.
" And not particularly good at that, I
should say."
Bardie did not understand the
prophecy.
" Isn't it lovely P" he cried. " I wish
papa would buv it for me, the dearest
little thing! What makes it look so
funny and wet?"
" It's mother has been giving it some
thing which is good for all little chil
dren, Bardie," Baid my aunt. "Par
ticularly !or little boys. A good lick
ing!"
Bardie understood this time, and
looked vengt fully at her. Then snap
ping the fingers of his minute band to
the old dog, that lay near Happing a
heavy good-natured tail agniust the
hard boards, he uttered a low but per
fectly distinct " St. boy'"
Up jumped the obedient Bruce with a
clumsy leap, and ran, barking loudly,
to the door, where he supposed the un
seen enemy to he lurking. Aunt Urania
fidgeted.
"Did you do that, you little rascal P"
she asked, not quite sure, however, for
she had been watching my successful
effort to Ciimb to tiie top of a great
mountain of hay, where I nowsatamid
the fragrance of dried clover leaves, and
felt in paradise.
It was an admirable point of view,
but not a convenient place to render as
sistance in an emergency. And thus it
happened that I could see the cow,
growing uneasy at the hubbub, rising
to her feet, and finally, with a threaten
ing look, advanced a step or two with
lowered horns. 1 could see it nil, but
was powerless to help, and could only
scream:
"Aunty! Bardie! the cow! the cow!"
Quick as a wink B&roie slipped past
the angry animal, and, as be expressed
it, "shinned up" the haymow, where
he perched himself triumphantly beside
me. Dignity and age alike forbade tlie
exercise of shinning to aunty, notwith
standing Bardie's opinion of her length
of limb. She wavered, tried for one
brief moment to " look the animal in
the eye," but a forward movement on
the oow's part put that idea to flight,
and she turned and fled, pursued only a
few steps by the disturbed mother, who
"saw her to the door," with a loud
moo of dismissal, echoed in distant
thunder from the small window wherein
gleamed the ball's excited eye; pursued
also, I am ashamed to say, by a derisive
laugh from Bardie, who stood on one
leg, ba'ancing himself with a pitchfork,
and shrieked out: " I tola you she
hated red things. Isn't it fun!"
We snuggled down In the hay and
let the cow quiet herself by a vigorous
return to her nuisery duties, anathen I
whispered a little admonition to Bardie
on the subject of his behavior to aunty.
It wss by no means tbe first Urns 1 bad
rebuked my small charge, and he took
it very penitently; though when I
found myself saying, "It lent like
mamma's little boy to act so," I came
to a Bill atop, with a sudden remem
brance of Susie's inveterate naughti
ness when Aunt Urania was in the
question.
He liked to hear about mamma, the
sweet bright, unknown image, whom
nobody but I had ever brought to his
mind, and he lay with his bead in my
lap. listening to my stories of our child
ish play and adventures, until the
pleased smile grew vaguer and softer,
and the long lushes drooped lower, and
he slept, looking more than ever like
a wandering cherub of heavenly reur
-I'hen, as I sat, doubly prisoned by the
foe beneath and the friend above, I
| heard a quick, unexpected footstep, and
Henry Bent entered the barn with an
amused and perturbed face.
The cow had settled to a comfortable
nap, the flies droned in the sunshine,
ana in the quiet noon iiusii he would
have turned away witiiout discovering
us, but that a low girlish giggle, of
which I instantly felt ashamed, revealed
our retreat.
Ho looked up, laughing. "Oh, there
you are, safe enough; but where is my
small boy?"
" Here, too, I said, in a very low
tone, and he vaulted upon the hay, and
saw the pretty sleeping boy: and his
face softened into the mingled sadness
and brightness which I often noticed
upon it as he looked at her child.
" I met Miss Scudamore just now
with a horrible tale of danger and mis
behavior. It is all right, I sec. But
what does possess the child to behave so
badly to her? He is a perfect lamb with
you."
" He has it by inheritance." I said,
with a smile that ended in a sigh. "He
never looks so like his mother as when
the irresistible naughtiness comes over
him. which Aunt Urania has the unfor
tunate talent for evoking."
The same smile was reflected in his
face, the same sigh in his voice.
"True," lie said, "you see, as Ido,
the wonderful likeness in everything."
" IVhy do you never talk to him of
Susie?" I said, with a desperate plunge
into the difficult subject, for I liatl never
before mentioned her name to him since
the baby wus left motherless. "It is
not right, Harry, to let him <row up in
ignorance of that sweetest of creatures,
lie is, as you say, her living image; lie
ought to know and love her, yet he
hardly knew what the word mother
rnennt until he came here to mo."
" I could not, I could not," he an-
BWcred, much moved. "I am glad you
do. I knew you would do him good
this summer. I cannot tell you the
comfort it is to me to have him in the
country, and witli you. I knew you
must love the little fellow, for you loved
his mother well."
" l/oved her, yen." I said, my team
suddenly hurstina; forth. " I can't get
used to doing without her, Harry; I
can't get oyer it."
"I fcee," he said. "We are fellow
mourners. Nora."
The little head stirred; one or two of
my tears had iallcn on the sweet baby
face and wakened him He sat up and
rubbed his eyes, amazed.
" What a lunny place!|wliat longjoob
webs!" he said. "Oh, 1 remember
now, the cow. Is she all right again?
Why,papa, where did you come from?"
" I came from the city, Hardie. When
I reached there this morning I found
the man 1 wanted to s°e was ill, and
wouldn't come to town for three days,
and so I posted back to you."
"That was right," said Bardie. "To
me and Nora."
"Yes. to you and Nora," said Harry,
with a kind Bmile at me. " But, Bardie,
the first person I met was Miss Bcuda
more, who told me a very sad tale. I
am alraid my little boy was very saucy
and disrespectful."
" Oh, papa, it wns too funny to see
her run with her red stockings. I told
her not to come. J told her the cow
might kill hpr. But Miss Scudamore,
why, she scudded more than ever," and
he went into a fit of mirth at his first
attempt at a pun.
I responded to the sa'ly with a weak
minded laugh, hut bis lather looked
awful.
" No more of this, sir," he said, !n a
voice of strong displeasure. "If you
can not behave properly to the ladies in
this house, I will send you away with
your nurse, and not let you come here
again. I will not expose them to the
pertness of a naughty little boy."
Bardie cowered under the severe
glance, and clung to me. I looked
piteous
" I>o not encourage him. Eilinor,"
said Harry, in a softer tone. "It is a
great misfortune to a motherless child
to grow up among strangers and ser
vants, who spoil hiTm, and then dislike
him because be is spoiled." But be
stroked tlie little penitent head, and
then suggested that a hav-rick was not
the coolest place on a summer noon,
and that dinner must be nearly ready.
"Yes, papa; but first I want to ask
you something. Will you take us, me
and Nora, to drive thisafiernoon? The
horses aren't haying to-day. and we
want to go so much. Please do."
Harry laughed, and stole a glance at
my face which I dare say revealed an
noyance as well as amusement.
"Not to-day, Bardie. lam going to
take you over to the hotel to piay cro
quet with the little Temples."
" Will you come, too, Nora?" asked
Bardic.
" No, dear; I called there last night,"
I said, and 1 drew a long breath at the
idea of a quiet afternoon. Bardic safe
and Hurry away—away for the long
evening, my heart whispered. Sophy
Temple and tea at the hotel, and a long
evening walk, and who ca i tell what
else? And with a jealous pang for
Susie, I thought, " If only 1 might have
Bardie, I wouldn't care.'
So, after Aunt Urania had settled her
self for her afternoon nap, I changed my
dress and rested awhile, watching from
my window until I saw Harry and Bar
die walking across the fields; Coraiie
followed, and I said to myself: " I
thought so: he will be untrammelcdl"
and I carried my water-color box and
sketchin r stool cut to a beautiful spot
at the end of a rambling old garden,
where a low stone wall divided the
straggling flower borders from the pas
ture beyond. There were shady trees
and soft overgrown clumps of bushes
and undergrowth, so that the retreat,
though not very far from the house, was
entirely secluded, and it commanded a
lovely little glimpse of wood and river,
with soft blue hills beyond, and in the
foreground the white spire of the vil
lage church shooting up through the
greenery.
Buch a auiet afternoon to sketoh and
paint I No little tormenting fingers to
meddle and "joggle," no perpetual
little tongue to ask unceasing ques
tions; only the siienoe, and the sum
mer music sweeter than silence; the
soft whispers in the trees, the droning
bees, the chirp of a bird; even the
spring of the grasshopper in the grass at
my feet was distinct in the golden bosh.
Yes, that hazy light was beautifel. the
opportunity perfect. Why oould I not
maks nse of it? Why could I not paint
instead of sinking back, after a few list
leas efforts, with a heavy heart and
clasped bands, and let the foil weight of
my lonely life fall on my spirit? My
father, always away, glad to be free
from any oharge ol me; Aunt Urania
well she meant kindly, and was good
to me, hut what a bore! Susie, my
chosen friend, my heart's sister, who
gad led and loved me from childhood,
tone into lhe land of shadows, and none
po take her ace in my ills forever.
Even her sweet little boy would be
taken from mo no doubt before long,
and given to somn other woman—some
Sophy Temple! And Harry— But
just at that stage of my reverie, when I
felt the choking in my throat, and the
hot. tears in my eyes, I heard the same
well-known step close beside me. and
Harry Bent, flushed and breathless,
threw himself on the ground at my
feet.
"I thought I should And you in this
lovely spot. May I not come too?" he
entreated.
" I thought you had gone with
Bardie."
"Yet, I left him there playing with
the little Temples. I made a brief call
on the ladies, and then gave Bardie the
slip. I wanted to get back, and only
hope he will not discover my retreat.
Everybody is lazy to-day except you,
Nora. You have your work laid out in
a very notable way, though ufter all I
do not sec that you have done much."
"Some days are unlucky," I an
swered. I did not feel in the mood.
But I will sketch now," and I becan to
work in earnest, partly to get 'of the
searching eyes which seemed read my
troubled thoughts.
" Rest instead, Ellinor, and let us talk
awhile.
"Yes, talk; but I can work too. I
want to make this picture; the view is
so lovely, it haunts me."
"Ah! said Harry, "there is a picture
which haunts mc— a picture; 1 lately
saw, and I can think of nothing else; a
woman, young, fair, and with the
sweetest mother face; and a little
child."
" X. Madonna?"
"Perhaps so. The child was asleep.
Such repose, such confidence in his
whole attitude and expression! Evi
dently the one right spot on earth to
him was his place in her arms. And
she looked like a brooding dove. Nora,
I can never tell you what I felt when
I came upon you so suddenly to-day
with .my little sleeping boy, nor what a
revelation from heaven came to my
heart that thuß it might be—must he.
I said we were fellow-mourntrs; can
we pot be fellow-comforters?"
I could not speak; the sobs I had
suppressed, the trouble I had been fight
ing, had their own way now.
lie looked at me in doubt and distress.
"What is it, dear Ellinor? Do I hurt
you? do I shock you? Have you no
heart to giye me? No, I will not ask
anything now. Calm yourself, sweet
child; rely upon me. 1 will not say
another word, if it distresses you like
this."
" I must speak," I cried, with a des
perate; effort. " Harry, Harry, how can
you ask such things of me. when you
know that you can never care for any
body again as you did for Susie?"
" I know," he answered.
" When you know that I ant no more
to be compared to her than this little
common flower at my feet is to be com
pared to an exquisite half-blown rose,
petal after petal laden with sweetness,
down to its secret golden heart?''
"Yes," he answered, picking the lit
tle common flower and holding it to his
lips. "It is not the rose. But it is
heart's-ease. It has its own mission, its
own perfume."
"And do not speak of Bardie," I cried,
more passionately than ever. " I>o not
tempt me with him. I wisii he and I
could go away together to some secret
place, and I could have him always."
"Dear, you may have him always.
No other woman ever shall."
A long pause ensued. I determined
to grow calmer before speaking again.
It was so hushed that we could near
the stirring of some little rabbits in the
bnabw N hind. He looked at me cn
trentinglv. 1 shook my head.
"No, no, Harry; do nor ask me, do
not tempt me. lam not much of a girl,
1 know, out I am worth more than that.
I ought to be first in the man's heart
who marries me. No, do not speak.
You know I cannot be first with you,
and so I cannct marry you. Ob, dear!
1 sighed, " there is nobody on earth
with whom I am first* nobody who
loves me best of all."
The stirring of the rabbit beeame
violently excited, and with a great
crushing of leavca and parting of
branches, and rending of little blouse.
Bardie tore himself trom his lair, and
flung himself upon me. "Yes. yee, my
darling Nora," he cried, with tears,
kissing my head and fare and hands, " I
love you the best of all, my own Nora—
I want you. Go away, papa. Marry
me—marry Bardie, Nora, dear!" and
he threw his arms around me and buried
his head in my neck.
"Yes, Nora," cried Harry, clasping
his armsround us both, " marry Bardia;
marry us both. We do want you; we
can't possibly live without you. There
is nobody on earth, there never will be,
wiiom we love half so well. Sweet
Nora, say yes, and make Bardic and me
perfectly happy."
They had conquered. M* heart
yielded to both father and child, and I
made a full surrender, with my head on
Harry's shoulder, and my arms around
bis child, and mv tears all kissed away;
and a wonderful sense of heme and l>e
longings, nnd fullness and con tent.
flowed through and through me, and
felt ns if Suasie's smile came down in
the sunbeaui, irradiating the whole
scene, and blessing the new part I was
to take in the lives which her death bad
left wrecked and stranded.
Aunt Urania came to meet us as we
returned to the farmhouse, putting oa
her spectacles of Cisco very as she came.
But ft needed no glasses to see what had
happened. Dewy eyes, disheveled
tresses, happy, agitated faces, told the
whole story, even without the help
of the ecstatic child in a woftiliy torn
blouse crowing over his victory, and
hardly waiting to get with'n earshot
before proclaiming the secret In his clear
high voice:
" She's going to marry me. Miss Scud
dymorc; she promised she would!"
And then, as an afterthought, he added:
" Oh, and papa, too." g
-—-w-newfHwee
The Philosophical society, of Glasgow
io to hold an exhibition of gas apparatus
sna large scale next autumn, and it is
intended also to make a display at th
same time of the apparatus which will
illustrate the progress made in electric
lighting, in telephonic communication,
in the manufacture of mineral oils, in
water measurement and regulation, in
hydraulic engines, in beating and venti
lation, etc. There can be no doubt that
this exhibition, taking up, as it means
to do some of the stoat important prob
lems to whloh man's attention is given
at present, wih prove of great service to
those who have to deal practically with
sanitary appliances.
A rat poison is advertised that will
make rats go away to a neighbor's house
and die. it Alls a want long felt.
RELIGIOUS HEWB AND lIOTEK.
The first Evangelical cliurch in Japan
I* to he erected from funds sent by
Christian converts of the Sandwich
Islands.
The 16,(XX) churches of the Method Ist
I Episcopal church owe in the aggregate
•7,000,000, an average of $4,000 to each
[ church.
■ In the Methodist Episcopal church
in this country there are forty-two Swed
ish pastors, 4, £>00 communicants, and
fifty-three churches.
I>a*t year 3,900 new members were,
added to the Baptist churches In Sweden.
Not yet are Baptist preachers in Sweden
allowed by law to solemnize the rites of
matrimony.
The American Baptist missionary
union will begin mission work in Li
beria this yciir, with the object of
establishing ultimately amission in the
interior.
The Baptists of Virginia boast of five
men who -have held pastorates for up
ward of twenty-five years. Two have
held pastorates over forty years, one
over thirty-seven, one thirty-three and
one thirty-one.
The American Baptist rnissionrry
union have, during the past year, added
twenty-two to their missionary force,
and twenty per cent, to their revenue,
raising in all $314,860.88. Of this
the women's missionary societies gave
$09,170.81.
Some of the Russian papers have
lately published statistics respecting
the C.itholicchurch in Russia, not in
cluding Poland. In Russia proper there
are one archbishop, four bishops. 1,804
priests and a population of 3,397,778
souls distributed through 1,044 par
ishes.
The last religious census in France
shows that there arc 35,387,703 Roman
Catholics, 467,531 Calvinists, 80,117
Lutherans, and 33,116 of other Protes
tant denominations. T4i e. Jt ws number
about 50,000, and 90,000 are attached to
no church.
The English Congregational aid so
ciety aided last year some 514 dtWObes
and 981 mission stations, with $"8,940
to the churches and $35,000 to the mis
sion stations. The income of the society I
was $169,450. Some assistance was also
given in raising ministerial stipends.
T;ie Presbyterians are rejoicing over
the success of the new plan of providing
for the expenses of their general assem
bly. The assembly paid its way easily
this year, and had a balance in the
treasury. The receipts were $3,000 in
excess of those of last year. The num
ber of commissioners present was 538, of
whom 256 were elders.
A Volrsno in a riorida Swiuap.
A recent issue of the Tallahassee
(Fla.) Palrxot says: On Bunday night,
a few weeks ago, a large bright light j
was seen in a southeasterly direction I
from this city, which attracted the at
tention of many of our citizens at first,
but concluding that it was a house on
fire, they thought hut little more of the
matter until the light reappeared sev
eral succeeding niglrs in the same plaee.
and put them to thinking again. It is
much brighter some nighui than others j
—sometimes having the appearance of j
the moon rising, bat generally much ''
brighter, and looking more like a large
fire shooting its flaming tongue high up
into the upper realms, frequently re- i
fleeted back by passing clouds. During j
the past week we have conversed with
several parties living in that direction, j
all of whom had noticed the light, and \
located it in the great swamp southeast
of here, on the Gulf coast, and about the i'
same spot from whence the much !
taikrd-of column of black smoke has
been seen to issue for years, supposed |
to be a volcano, which no living man
has ever been ab'e to reach, from the
fact of its being surrounded by an im
penetrable swamp. Wc were told last I
Tuesday by a gentleman living in 1
Wakula county, near tbis noted swamp, <
that the light had created much excite
ment in his neighborhood, as a loud, I
rumbling noise was frequently heard In j
the direction of it during the week.
The noise was said to be ao loud Thurs
day, about midnight, as to arouse the
sleeping family of Mr Frank Duggle,
and cause them to get up and run out
doors, thinking another earthquake was
on hand.
For the Unmarried Men.
There can't he too much guardit'
against the wiles of the flirt; she's a
naughty-culturiat.
Tbe way for a desolate old bachelor j
to secure better quarters is to take a
*' better half."
When a young man begins to be
called a blade, there is always more or
Jess steal about him.
Life is but a span; marriage is a
double team; youth wedded to old are
is a tandem; nti old bachelor is a sulky.
In some respects the gentler sex far
surpass us. No man. for instance, can
deliver a lecture with a doeon ping in
hismoatli.
Clean your last year's straw bat with '
a lemon, ami you may squeeze ttirougti
the summer with It. Take this hint 1
and let lemon-aid you.
A young New Yorker hosobtalned
twenty-seven different card photo- 1
graphs of "future wives" who are in
•tore fur him, obtained from as many
different sorceresses.
A Western paper watts to know 1
" where the next world's fair will be '
heldF" I don't profess to know maeli j 1
about tbe next worid, but in these dig- 1
sins Sunday nigbt is the favorite tlmi '
for holding this world's fair.—Hkake.
A poqt says t " lAve holds me so! 1 ]
wou.d that I could got I flatlet up
end down, and too and frol In vain
love holds me so!" Eat a raw onion
lust before you go to sue hep, and she i
will loosen her grasp and throw up*
window.
av U IRVAMODS OLD BACH SLOB.
When Kve brtmaiu woe to all mankind,
Old Adam called l>r merman;
And wh*i\she woo'd with lave *o kind. 1
H then pranounoed it woemsn.
But now wftk lolly and with pride
Their huahaada pocket* trimtnin.
The ladiea are to tail ot whima
Thai people cell them whimiuen.
Out day recently nearly 4,000 mil- !
grantaoatne into New York. That tame i
day 1.000 left New York for KuropS! 1
who went away wore, a*mimic. J
riS| ilioae Who ohms were poor. Be- H
fare many years have passed a numb w i
who cams hat* poor that day I
will be atobng the rieh throng going
back to visit their old homes. Going t
East, as a general thing, ts pleasure; fi
oomtng West is business. The 1,006 are i
to stay * the 4 000 *** cow,l, tf
Give Then Now.
If yon bare gcntlo words and look*, rr , T
irisuds,
To spare lor ins—U you have tears to a b*|
Thai I hiwe Buffered—keep them not, | {jrty
Until I hear not, see not, being dead.
llyou have flow'™ to gi-e fair lily bods,
White rosea, daiae* (meadow-atari that
Mine own -tear nuuiceak*-e)—let thein einila
and >oaks
The air, While yet I breathe it, sweet lor
ine.
loving looks, thOUfCH fraught With tender
nees,
And kindly tears, though may (all thick sad
fast,
The word* ol praise, alua' can nnu-ht avad
To lift the shadows Irutn s life that'*
And rarest blossoms, what can they tnfflce
Offered to one who can no longer gnw
Upon their beauty ? Folw'rw in coftlna laij
Impart no sweetness Lo departed 'lay*.
—llarptr, Weekly.
ITEMS OF INTEREST.
I'atience is tbe art of hoping.
Tea culture in Florida is receiving at
ention.
It is now safe to treat girls with coot
nc-ss— flavored with vanilla.
Samuel Johnson defined nonsense to
be "bolting a door with a boiled e&r
rot."
Tlie Territory of Montana has already
produced upward /if $147,000,000 in
gold, and $6,000,000 in silver.
An English firm sold 8,000 fireproof
safes in Turkey before it was ascertained
that the tilling was only sawdust.
A leading hotel in Dundee, Scotland,
is furnished throughout with furmu:
made in Grand liapids, Mich.
Talk of feme and r<>tnnoe—hL the
glorv and adventure is the word are
not worth one hour of domestic bliss.
The law should be to the sword
what the handle is to the hatchet; it
should direct the stroke and temper th*
force.
In Paris the fashionable shade is "sul
phur." There is one other place where,
also, it is fashionable.—New York Her
,iUl.
The deficit In the po-tofHoe depart
ment for the fic&i year ol 1879 w:i*
$3,407,916, which 's less than any year
since 1866.
An oatmcai factory in Dubuque, la.,
is shipping over 45 (00 j-ounds of men.
per week to Scotland at a cost of
si venty-five cents a hundred.
It is wonderful how silent a man eat
be when he knows his cause is just, and
Im>w boisterous he becomes when he
knows he is in the wrong.
| Two hundred and seventy-two train*
| arrive at and depart from Chicago every
twenty-four hours. Forty-four rai.roadi
have offices in that city.
Grace "1 am going U> see Clara to
day. Have you any message?" Char
lotte—" I wonder how you can visit
that dreadful girl? Give her my love.'
Missionaries report that a town near
Pekin, China, seems about to come
lover en masse to Chr.stianity. They
have been rending Ctiristiun books.and
many families Cave destroyed their
family gods.
Bisset, the animal trainer of Perth,
tAUght an ourang to wait on Ithe tabie
and peform other household duties tie
longing to servants. A chimpanzee has
been trained to fa d and attend a baker's
oven tire on board ship.
Philadelphia has 478 r>ubiic scnoos.
instructing 103,567 pupils by means of
I 9,070 teachers, only seventy seven of
whom are men. The value ot the sehoo.
property owned and in use by the city
is nearly $6,000,000.
" Goods at half price,"' said the sign
" How much is that teapot P" asked the
old lady who had been attracted by tb
announcement, "Fifty cents, mum.''
"I guess I'll take it then," she said,
throwing down a quarter. The dealer
let her have the teapot, but took in hi
sign before another customer oould
come in.—Boston TVoaseript.
An exchange says that the king *f
Siani is coming to tnis country. and will
bring hissnit with him. Well he'd bet*
I ter. unless he has afrhnd here who will
| lend him one. The weather is entirely
too changeable for a man to come so tar
I away from home without his suit. and.
; I resides, people might make nmrks
j about him Muldltiovi , 7VnnsenW.
Did you ever notice the little rtg
muflin in the str-et with a supreme.*
dirty face ? Taffy, bread and fatter
and molasses form the groundwork for
the accumulation of dust and grime,
and his cheeks look like twia maps ot
the oceanic archipelago; his bands and
wrista look like animated tree roots,
they are so dirty, and his feet and
ankles partake of the mud they contact
with. Of course you've noticed him.
And he isihe lightest-hearted bunch of
human kstan you ever saw. Dirt
doesn't rtrike any deeper than beauty,
and within his heart is as ciean litt.es
soul, and a great deal Ircer one, as ever
grew inside the neatest and slickest
young devotee of soap and vra'er that
ever lived, waelmd and suffered.— Sev
Haven Hcguter.
li• B •Ml ■taaffcrlrtT'
A man may cat and drink hearii .v su
day, says an unknown writer, and sit
and lounge about dofng nothing, in one
•ns* of the word; but bis body must
keep hard at work, or it will die. Sup
;<nc t I>4 stoma* Jl refused to work wit tun
ICQ minutes after * heart* dinner, tb<
man would die In convulsions In s few
hour*; or cholera or cramp eelie would
2 ;
would invade the small of the backhand
the head would anUa to bursting Sup
pose the kidneys shut up shop, and dan
ger moat Imminent, suffering* unbear
able, and dtaUfc mora certain. wo* id of
the speedy and unenviable result. If W'
Itttle workshops of the eye shoald eh**-
iin a* hour he outfit not shut nor op n
SSSiBm
ttkfa Plifre tongue shoukl tlrtfr tl
fSTdOrtiiQklry as a ooMand stffi *
time is a nxirawle of wisdom, but to
*oflt them by the plenAAee of ettn<
and drinking Is a miracle of beneflcenje-