A Simple language. Oar language in a wimplft ime. Yon hardlv used Ixt told; A forest ftiul ft treulom ilown Ym both alike • wold. Tlio mftn whoso nerves are strong ml well A nerve tin mftn wo call; Wo also cll him nenrotis, 100, Who lias no norv< s at all. Wo say a liorve 1* r.wtlvc when Ho will not budge ergo; When ho rofneoo to stain! stUI He restive is also. * Our language is ft simple one. Which any one may oo; A word u>ar now mean tweodlcdutn. And the n moan twoedlodoe. Morton Traiurripl. J — THE SQUIRE'S WOOING. Hqmre Kimball was in hut strawberry patch palling ap woods whoa Lacy Keenn came down the road that beauti ful July morning, and he was just about to throw an armfnl of them over the fence aa she came around the corner. Tho sonbonnet she wore was exactly like one he remembered to have seen her mother wear twenty-five years ago; and he remembered, too, as ho looked at this one, and the fresh, rosy face nndcr it, how that one ha J msde his heart flatter the first time he saw it, and how he was so bewitched by it, or the face nnder it, that he bad walked home with Hester Mason and had bard work to keep from proposing to ber. He wondered now, and he had won dered many times in the twenty-five years that had gone by sinco then, why he never did propose to her. He had meant to marry her some time, and he was snreshe liked him in the old days; bat—and ho bad sighed to himself more than ouoe when he thought of it— something had come between them, and sbo had married Robert Keene, and he had married his Cousin Mary. Fate mast have had somothing to do with it, he concluded. As he looked at Hester's daughter this summer morning the old fire stirred under the dust and ashes of twenty-five years, and he felt a little flame spring np in his heart. "Good-morning, Lucy!" ho said, leaning over the fence. "Ohl" exclaimed Lucy, with a little jump, " I didn't see yon, and yon came near scaring me. Isn't it pleasant T " Yes,* ik is pleasant," answered the squire, looking straight at her pretty face. " How's your mother?" " Pretty well," answered Lncy. " Your strawberries are doing splendidly, aren't they? We're so provoked abont ours. Tho hens got into tho garden, and mother says she don't think we'll hare a pailful of berries in all." " I want to know I" exclaimed the *quire. "Now, yon tell jonr mother t hat she's welcome to all ahe wants ont of my patch. She can have 'em jtut aa well aa not. There'a going to be a aight m ore'n well want, and I'd rather hare 'em naed than wanted." " I will tell her," anawered Lncy; " I know ahe'U be delighted at the chance. Ton know what a hand she is to make strawberry preserves." " Yes, I do," answered the sqnire, thinking of old times. " I remember she beat all the old housekeeper* at that. They naed to say that ahe had a knack of making strawberry jam that nobody else conld get hold of." "Bbe hasn't lost it yet," said Lncy. "She'll bo pleased to have yon come to tea some time, and try some she made last year. She had nnnsnally good luck." "I'll do it," said the sqnire. "Le* me see—to-day's Wednesday. Tell her I' 11 come over Saturday, if it's agreeable, and I gneas the berries 'll be ripe so I can pick a psilfnl by that time. If thoy be, I'll bring some over." "Thank yon!" said Lney. "If yon do we'll have a shortcake. I'll tell her to expect yon to tea on Satnrday, then." "Yes," answered the sqnire; "I'll be 'roond if nothing happens. Oh 1 I heard from Charley yesterday. He'll be home in a day or two to stay." "That'll be pleasant for yon," aaid Lncy, stooping down to pick np a daisy. The * quire could not ace how rosy the face under the bewitching sunbon net grew all at once. If he had it might hare aet him thinking. "Tea it will," aaid the squire. "Charley's a good boy." "I gueaa Til have to be going," aaid Luc;. "We ahall expect jou to tea Saturday, remember." "I won't disappoint you," aaid the squire; and then Lucy went on, and ho went back to pulling weeds. "I a'poee it's foolish to think of such a thing," he aaid to himself, "but I don't know aa it's anybody's business but ours. If I see fit to marry Lucy, an' she's willin', I'm going to do it." Prom which yon will see that the squire's fancy for the mother had sud denly been transferred to the daughter. Charley came home the next day. '* I s'poae I'll have to tell him what I've been thinking about," thought the squire. "I'd 'bout M soon take a iv rse-wbippi&s, I declare. But there 1 ain't any nse in dreading it an' putting it off, as I know of." Accordingly, when they wero sitting ' on tho pin7Jia after snppor, tlio squiro jbegan: I " I've been thinking some of getting a new housokeepor," he announced, \ fooling his faoo gotting uncomfortably i hot. "Won't Aunt Sarah stay?' asked | Charley. "I—l meant a housekeeper of an i other kind," said the squire, wiping his ! face vigorously. j Charley gave a whistle of surprise i and starod hard at his father. " Who is it to bo, if I may ask such l a question V ho said. " Down tho road," said the squire, jerking his tlintub over his shoulder in , tho direction of tho Widow K*ene'n. He couldn't muster up courage to say Lucy. "Aha I that's tho way tho wind blows, is it?" laughed Charley. "I'm glad to hear it. Yon couldn't do bet ter." " I'm glad to hear you say so," said the squiro, much relieved. "I felt sure you'd like to have Lucy as a—a member of the family." " I haven't any objections, if she hasn't," said Charley. "So that's over," said tho squire, much relieved, as Charley strolled down the road -in the early evening. " I wonder he never took a fancy to her. 1 s'jtoae folks'll say I'm au old fool, but I don't care." While he sat there Charley was telling Lucy that his father had keener eyes than he had given him credit for, for he seemed to understand bow mat ters stood perfectly. And what ho told her after that is nono of yonr business or mine, thongh I will say that 1 feel sure it had something to do with Lucy's becoming "one of the family." About four o'clock Saturday after noon tho sqnire, in his best coat and with a pail of strawberries on his srm, knocked at Mrs. Keene's door. "Good-afternoon," said the widow, as she let him in, with a charming suspicion of a blush in her face, which, ho had to admit, was almost an fair as it bad been flvo and-twenty years ago. " Here's some berries," said the sqnire, awkwardly presenting bis offer ing. " Lncy said the hens h d played the mischief with jours." "I'm a thousand times obliged to you!" said the widow. By that time the squiro had got to the sitting-room doer. Who should ho see there but Charley, seemingly very lunch st home, an he held worsted for Lucv to wind ? " I managed to get an invitation to tea, too," laughed Charley. "Yon kept it pretty sly, but I wasn't to be cheated ont of rar share of strawberry pre serves." Then Charley and Lucy looked at each other and laugbod; and the squire felt his face grow red. "Just see what he has brought usf" said the widow, displaying the berries. "If you'll help hull 'em, Lucy, we'll have a shortcake for tea. I remember bow fond yon used to Ire of strawberry shortcake years ago," and the widow smiled at the sqniro till thero was a dimple in each cheek. " I remember, too," teaponded the sqnire. Then Lucy and her mother went out. " Ive spoken to her about being one j of the family, and she's willing," said i Charley. "I—l don't understand!" said the sqnire, in great bewilderment, growing 1 hot then oold. " Why, yon know what yon said the I other night when yon told me yon thonght of getting her mother for housekeeper," explained Charley. "I supposed yon understood, from what yon said, that Lncy and t intended to bo married. It's all settled." . The sqniro sat speechless. What he thought of in the next five minutes conld not be condensed into a column | of this paper. " I—l hope you'll be happy! ' ha stammered at last, feeling thst some thing wss expected of him. " I'm sure we will," said Charley. "I hope you will, too." Pretty soon the widow came in. " The short-cake's baking," she said. " Lncy aaid she'd hull the berries and set the table, and sent me in to play lady and entertain the company." Charley watched his opportunity, and slipped into the kitchen. The squire had made np his mind again. If be cooidn't have Lncy he'd have her mother, it he oould get her. "Come to think it all over," he told himself, " thst was the best plan by ail odds." He wondered how he conld have been foolish enongh to think of marrying a girl of twenty one or two. The idea was ridiculous. " What's the two ot waiting!" thought be. "It might as well be settled now an any time." " Hester,' he began, getting red again, " Charley an' Lncy are going to get married. Why shouldn't wef . " Why Hqoire Kimball ?" cried the widow, blushing no rosily that h thought sho wrh prettier than her daughter. *' I oanre over on purpose to auk yon," natd the nqnire, telling a ruont out raucous Ah. "I hope you haven't any object ions." When Tmey came in half an honr loter to aay that tea wan ready, tho Hjniro rose up, bluHhing like a girl, and jerked his thumb toward the widow, and Kaid, in a voice that shook a little : "That's your mother, Lucy. I mean, sho's Mrs. Kimliall, or going to bo. It's all settled." "I a'pose I may kiss my father then," said Lucy, and plumped h kiss on tho squire's lips, who said she might givo him anotbor for her father-'n-law, while she was about it, if she'd no objections. "Ono'll answer for both," langbeil "Lucy. Then the sqniro gave bis arm to the woman ho bad meant to marry twenty years ago, and led her ont to tea. Ho has never regretted that matters turned out as they did. " Lney can't be beat for a daughter," he tells himself ; "but he don't want uny better than her mother makes.'' Kidnaping and the Lottery In Italy. The mwt immoral amus.ment (if amusement it can be called), the lottery, is a great source of revenue to tho gov ernment, and I know it is a great sourco of misery and crime to tho people, in illustration of which I will tell an anec dote, which, strango at it may seom, is absolutely true : A lady took her little boy to a noigb, taring fair. He was a lovely child, with flaxen hair, blue eyes and a daz zling fair complexion. To this pair a well-ilrossed woman of the middle class fascinated apparently by the extraordi nary beauty of the child approached. •' 1 have a carriage here," said she to the mother; " may I tako your boy for a little drive? I will bring him back almost immediately." The lady was young and unsuspecting; the child eager to go. He was carried off, and in rain the mother waited and watched. The stranger woman never brought back her child. The kidnaper was not a native of those parts. No ono there knew who she was, whence she came, or whither she had gone. There seemed no clew to the mystery. The poor mother went more than half distracted ; bat the father, a man of energy and shrewd sense, succeeded in tracking his child to a village far south. Accompanied by " carabtnieri," he dm* covered his son in s loft, and rescued him only jnst in timo from an awful fate. He was about to be murdered, and an altar bad been erected on which the rictim*s blood was to spurt. The motivo of the intended crime was to in sure his raurdereas a prize in the littery; for a soothsayer had recommended for this purpose the sacrifice of a fair and rosy child. The woman wss put in prison where she shortly died. Bhe had not borne a bad character, and the dreadful guilt sho meditated appears to have been the result of a sort of madness which the fascination of the lottery is said to bring npon its victims. Perhaps it is fair to add that tbia hap pmed many years ago. —I Am don Corn kill. Blood-Atonement in (.'tab. A letter frcm Halt Lake City to the Chicago Tribmtr says: With regard to blood-atonement I am assured that it is practiced todays* frequently as it was Iwenty-tlve years ago, though not so openly. There are no coroners in Utah and when a body is in death it is simply bnried. Poison does the work and there are no inquiries When a man gets tired of his wife he (>oiaona her. One crime, which was committed here only a short time ago, I mnst de scribe. Mrs. Maxwell camo to Bait Lake City with her hnaband in 1869. Two years afterward her husband took another wifo and one year subsequently he was seaKd to a third. Mrs. Max well had two sons, aged respectively fourteen and sixteen years. Their father nrged them to go through the Endowment house and beoome Mor mons, bound by all the oaths of the church. Mrs. Maxwell, having led a life like that of Mrs. Hunt, objected, and in order to prevail over her sons she told thorn the secrete of the Endow ment house. The penalty for revealing these secrets u dismemberment of the body, the throat out and tongue torn out. Mr. Maxwell overheard his wife, being in an adjoining room, and forthwith he informed the elders, who sent for the nnfortnnate woman and her two sons. The were taken into what is called the " dark pit," a blood atoning room under Brigham Yonng's house. Six member* of the priesthood then performed their terrible crime ; they first out off their victim's tongue, thay then ent her throat. The sons were eompolled to stand by aud witness this dreadful slaughter of their mother. The sons went directly to the hoot* of a friend, to whom they related the bntehery of their mother, and obiaining a package of provision* they started ; bnt on the following morning thoy were both dead —they had met the Daoites. TOPICS OF THE OAT. There are loss crnnkM iu the literary profession than in any other, according to nu English scicntifc writer, who says: "I And on looking over the tabu lated jflßrns that of all n-coguized pro foKaioMllic one leant liable to insanity ia that of literature. According to the retnrna thero arc thia year 139,143 men and women engaged an author*, dilorn, journalists, re)ortrH, translator*, or in other literary work. Ont of these twelve only are returned a* lunatic*." ( uptaiu Encosou's new torpedo boat, the Destroyer, was tried at the Brook lyn navy yard recently, the result being very satisfactory. The Destroyer is 130 feet long, twolvo feet wide and eleven feet deep. It is claimed that against this craft, with a torpedo which it will ne in action, carrying 340 ponnds of dynamite, the most powerful ironclads will bo helpless, while tho facility with which it can In* maneuvered will enable it to ply its destructive work among a fleet of big ships almost at will and with entire safety. Tho advice given by the Marquis of Lorne to spinsters in England who are pining for haabands was to go to Mani toba, British America. Any womau who goeo ont there, according to the marquis, " will have an offer of marriage at least once a day, and the farther west Bin goes the more offers she will got." There conld hardly lie anything more encouraging than this to tho miud of the sympathetic spinster yarning for avt opportunity, and we shall expect ere long to aee the wilds of Manitoba crowded with blooming English maid ens. It is a shrewd move on the part of the marqnia, for it will keep ihe yonng Canucks at home and hriug others there. One of the most extraordinary ex periments ever vouchsafed to on adven turous traveler has just been completed by Mr. O Douovan, long imprisoned at Merv, in Central Asia. Such is his ad dress and so great are his powers for winning conAdenco and acquiring cor - trol that, after a long captivity of which every moment might easily have been his last, he cxmo to be troxted with the utmost respect, lived in a fortification erected for his special accommodation, and wss appointed one of the council of three to govern the tribes. And when ho reached Constantinople last November it was not as an esoaped cap tive, hut as iho envoy plenipotentiary from Mrv to ail the European princes. It in stated tlii®. the common graer and flourish. Or. Haves, the Arctic Explorer. The late Dr. Isaac I. If ay CM was born in Chester county, Penm, March 6, 1832. Hi* parents designed him for the medical profession, and he was sent to tho University of Ponnsylvauis, from which ho was graduated with tho ad dition of M. D. ta his name, in May, 1853, at tho ago of twonty-onc. Before his graduation he applied to Dr. Kane for permission to join his second expe dition to the Arctic, and 'on May 29 he secured the coveted appointment as surgeon of .the expedition. Daring the second summer the Advance was frozen ' in the ice and there was no possibility jof freeing bor. Provisions wore run j uing short, and it was Anally decided I to divide tho crew, one part to remain with Dr. Kano in tho Advance the other to attempt the passage south to Upernavik in boats. Dr. Hayes was of tho latter party, which left the brig August 20, 1854, dragging the little I boat Faith over tho ice in search of | open water to the south. The record of that perilous journey, with its suffer ings, is given in Dr. Hayes' book, en titled "An Arctic Boat Journey," pub lished in Boston in 1860. After three months of terrible suffering the party was obliged to givo up the project and retnrn to the brig, for which they started November 25, reaching it De cember 26. Upon tho return of Dr. Kane's expe dition, Dr. Hayes announced bis con viction that, notwithstanding the fail ure to reach it, an open polar sea did not exist, and be set abont raising the money to organiza an expedition to dis cover it In December, 1857, ho pre sented his views to the American Geo graphical and Statistical society, and daring tho succeeding winter hs lec tured tbrongbout the country and at the Smithsonian Institution in Wash ington. Subscriptions for a new polar expedition were collected by acientiAe aocietios in Europe and America, the principal subscriber being Henry Orin nell, of this city, and in 1860 the schooner United States, of 133 tons wo* Atted ont, and Dr. Hayes placed in command. He sailed from Boston with a'party of fourteen men, July 10, I*Blo, and arrived in the same port October 23 1861, having reached a higher point than any other explorer, except Sir Ed ward Porry. He joined the army as a surgeon, and afterward published vol umes sntitled " Open Polar Sea," " Cast Away in the Gold," and " The Land of Desolation." Ho was a member of the New York legislature from 1875 to 1880. He was a member of the New York Geographi cal society, and his last publio appear ance was to deliver a lecture before that body on " Commerce" abont two months ago. He was also a member of the New York Press club. The Cheerful Jap*. Of all their surface qualities—l use the word " surface" not as excluding " substance," but rather implying it— none is mora noteworthy among the Japanese than their cheerfulness at work. It is a quality shared by all classes and common to all employments. The Japanese statesman dictates a dis patch or discnesea a cabinet qneetion with a smile on his face; the financier, more astonishing yet, smiles over the intricacies of a deficient budget; the preacher smiles during every pause in hia sermon; the writer at bia desk; the shopkeeper smiles while chaffering with hia customer, the servant on receiving bis master's orders, the smith while forging the metal, the potter manipulat ing the clay, the husbandman aa be wade* knee-deep in mnd across the rice fields, the bargeman propelling hia clnmsy boat against wind -and tide, the coolie straining to lift the heaviest load, nay, even the conviot at hia forced labor by the roadside. find what is more, a very alight occasion will broad en the smile into a hearty laugh, fill this is true and genuine good bnmor, based fir Uy, no doubt, on a good di gestion, bnt also on a remarkably elastic temperament, great oourage, and the sound, good sens* that everywhere and everyhow makes the beat of things. Had Mark Tapley bean somewhat more of a gentleman in manners ha might have passed for an average Japanese.—Fbrt' nightly Rtruw. DeeempeslUea the Cuw. A German was selling a furniture polish ia Nomervilie a few days ago which emitted a pungent and extremely disagreeable odor. While showing the preparation to a lady ahe said to the peddler: " Bat how it amelUt" " Dot hi de smell of de composition, madam," said he. "I thought so," eho replied, as ahe closed the gate. And the peddler did not know whether the odor or his remark had sent her ofl eo suddenly.— SommoUle Journal Changing Place*. A citizen who had an office iu the top atory of a block on On s wold street bad half a ton of coal damped on the walk tbe other day, and tho cart hud n't yet disappeared when a boy came puf- j flng npataira and called out: "Hay, want that eoal lugged up7" "That's no way to addrea* a perw>u," replied the raan. "Why don't yon ad- J die sn mo jn a civil, polite manner T J " Danno how," answered the boy. "Well. I'll ahow yon. Hit down here and auppoae yon are the owner of the officio and I am a boy who want* to bring np yonr coal." He stepped into the hall and knocked on the door, and as the boy cried "come in, tho man entered the room with hi* hat in hi* hand and began: " Hog pardon, uir, but yon have some I coal on the walk below." ; re*.' " Shall I bring it up for you T | " Ob, certainly!" " How much will you pay?" " Well," replied the boy, a he looked aronnd at the scanty furniture. "I generally prumUe a boy fifteen cent* ' and *hovt- a bogn* quarter on him, bat seeing it'* yon, and yon are the only support of a large family, if you'll , bring up that ooal and put it in that box, I'll give you my whole income for a yatr half and a pair of old boota in the bargain." " Btiy, what do you mean V de manded the man, a* he Hushed un. Hut the boy dodgod him and reached j the *tairs, and a* he panned at one of the landing* to look up lie called out: " I expected every minute that you'd ; advise me to get that coal upstair* before some creditor gobbled it i You ' can't play boy for *huck."— l)ctrii Fre. Fret*. Mrx. Stanford'* Diamonds. A Pari* correspondent eaya: "J hare recently been shown one of the moat magnificent act* of jewelry ever gotten np in Paria for an American lady. It waa manufactured to order for the wife | of ex Governor Stanford, of California, I and constate of a necklace of large col | ored diamonds, rubies, sapphires and 1 emeralds, all of the pnreat water. A bond o( large yellow diamonds en . circles the throat, each act in smaller stones. Below this hand is placed a floriated design in sm*H white diamonds and colored stones, extending in deep points. Between each of those points l is suspended an immense yellow diamond set in white diamonds and attached to the tipper part of the necklace by a ruby, emerald or sapphire. There are Are of theso pendants, the central one being the largest, and bav in* once figured in the oollection of the I>nke of Brunswick. This aagnifi < oent ornament, accompanied by a comb, a brooch and a pair of earrings to match, and the necklace itaelf takes to pieces and can be converted into pins, hair ornaments, eta, while the upper row of diamonds can be worn aa I a necklace without the pendants and the pointed floriated band. The cost . of the set has been estimated at (CO,* I 000. Besides this truly royal parure, Mrs. Stanford has recently become the possessor of three brown diamonds, one set as a ring sad the other two as ear ing*. which to bo perfectly unique in the world of jewels Personating n MrhUagale. In one of the pieces recently per i formed at Munich for the private delectation of the eeoentrie king of Bavaria, a scene occurs in which a night • ingale is to sppear in the branch of a tree warbling its sweet notes. Un fortunately there exists thus far no in strument closely imitating the song of this queen of birds: surely no bird could have been found loyal enongh to aing even to a king in winter, mild aa the season has proved np to this time. The despair of the stage manager may therefore bo readily imagined. Htill, the truth of the old proverb, "The greater the need, the nearer the help," was onoe more vindicated in this trying dilemma A bootmaker, Bechthaler by name, who has frequently amused and delighted his friende by his wonderful imitative talent, wee applied to by the distressed official and persuaded to piece himself behind the soenee, and at a given signal to "personate" the charm ing songster, which he did to the entire satisfaction of his toVal listener. At the nest performance there will doubtless be read on the , "single" play-bill printed for the ldng: "A nightingale, Mr. Bechthsler."— American Rrgitttr. Hw Indian* Kill Flak. The Indiana of Mendocino county, California, poison large q nautili?* of flab. They nee a weed that grown like clover, in boaohea, and m aba uJ an tin that county. They braise the weed, and than fasten a quantity of it in the current, at the heed of n hole in deep water. The flah become oraay from it* effect# and die. It killa everything in the hole where it ia placed, from the largest fih down to thj smallest min now. The Indiana ia tbia way gather dab by the basketful