Serenade.
Stan of the stimraor night!
Far in yon azuro deeps, '
Hid®, hide your uoldeu light I
She slecpal
My lady sleeps!
Sleep*!
Moon of tho (umranr night!
Far down yon western stoops,
Sink, eink in silver lightl
She sloops!
My lady aloepsl
Sleep*!
Wind of tho summer night!
Whore yondor woodbine creeps!
Fold, fold thy pinions light!
She sleeps!
My lady sleeps!
Sloops!
Dreams of tho summer night!
Tell her, her lover keeps
Watch! while in eiutnbcia light
She sleeps!
My lady sleeps!
Sleeps!
l.on<jfMou>.
OUR NEWSMAN.
nr Tin: Aonll HI oi " it OBEX'S ru nnw."
His name was Ellis Marston; this I
learned without any special desire to
know it, from the bill which ho ren
dered monthly for tho daily papers that
he delivered at my house. Tho bill
itself, being for a small amount, was
one of the sort that a man last remem
bers when in the humor for paying bills,
so I saw its maker's name several times
before I paid it.
One morning onr servant told me,
while I was at breakfast, that a gentle
man, who desired to seo me, was in the
parlor; ho had not given her his card,
and sho had not fully understood his
name. I found the early caller to be
Ellis Marston, my newsman, but I was
not at all surprised that tho servant had
unhesitatingly admitted him, and an
nounced him as a gentleman, for he
had a refined face and good manners,
whilo his clothes, although far from
new, fitted him well and wore of taste
fnl cut.
In paying his bill I made as many
apologies as I would have done to any
gentleman whom I had subjected to de
lay and annoyance. As whilo waiting
for mo he had opened a volume of
Browning that lay upon tho table, and
had not closed it up to tho time that I
entered the room, I promptly assumed
that he had more literary taste than the
generality of men in his business, and a
moment or two of conversation, begun
haphazard upon the book in his band,
satisfied me not only that I was right
but that ho knew far more than 1 about
modern English poetry.
At that particular hour my time was
precious, and my mind crowded with
interests temporarily moroprociona than
poetry; so to express in somo way, and
quickly, the respect which the man's
manner had exacted, I increased my
order by asking him to serve me with
several weeklies and monthlies that 1
had been in the habit of purchasing at
whatever news-stand I first saw them
on, and ilia pleased expression as ho
made note of my order and bowed him
aelf out pnt me on very good tonus with
myself for the remainder of the day.
So seldom had I seen a man who
seemed superior to bia position in life,
that Ellia Marston's face presented
itself frequently to my memory dnring
several days that followed; so one ;
evening, obtaining his address from his
billhead, I strolled out to gratify my
curiosity about the man.
I found him iu a little shop fairly
filled with periodicals and stationery,
with a small circulating library on
shelvo* at the rear.
An order for a foreign review was the
exense for the visit, which I prolonged
by offering him a good cigar, which
be lighted with evident satisfaction,
and we soon engaged in a plessant chat
about books. ,
I looked over the titles of the vol
umes in his circulating library, and cx
pressed my surprise that the general
public read works of s character so
high; he replied, with a sigh, that the
public did not read them to any extent;
that they were the bnlk of his own li
brary, and he loaned them for whatever
they might bring.ratber than leave them
untouched on hia shelves at home.
While we were chatting a vory pretty,
well-dressed lady, whose face waa rather
vacant, except for an expression of im
patience, entered the store, and Mars
ton hurried forward to meet her.
She did not aeem to want to pcrchase
anything, but conversed rapidly and in
a low tone with Marston, and departed
after he banded her some money.
She looked utterly unlike any ordi
nary business creditor, and I inspect
some wonder expressed itself in my
face, for, aa the proprietor rejoined m
he explained, very quietly, in just two
words:
" Mrs. Maraton."
Then I sew in an instant that Mara
ton had made a very unfortunate mar
riage, bat, after the untruthful manner
of aootcty 1 complimented him on hia
good fortune in having eo aightly a
companion, and he acknowledged my
•felicitations with fine dignity, but not
a sign of entbualaam.
It was very evident to my mind as I
sanntered homeward that evening that
Marston's wife innst be extravagant and
unreasonable, and that her bntibnud
would never save money with which to
onter a better business, unless he had
*omo holp; go, for soveral days, I sjsfe
matically tortured publishers among
my acquaintance to make a place for our
nowsman But I soon loarned that
Marston's prosont position was not that
in which ho had begun business. lie
had been a respectable bookseller in
tho interior, whero ho married a beauti
ful girl who longed to livoin New York,
so ho sold out and re-established him
self in tho metropolis. Everybody liked
him, but everybody said he rniued his
credit and then his business by failing
to pay bin bills. I found a general sup
position that ho secretly indulged a
passion for gambling; onosolid old fel
low, though, suggested that no man
conld maintain his business if ho grat
ified all the whims ui a woman like
Mrs. Marston.
"Then why doesn't lie explain to
her?" I asked.
Tho old fellow gave a hard, dry
langb.
" I'eaco is cheap at any price," paid
he.
" But any reasonable woman —I
began, when I was interrupted with :
"Huch women are not reasoning bo
ings. No woman is who loves self lirst
and husband alterward."
Tliis seemed hard lsngnage to n?o
aboat so pretty a woman as Mrs. Mars
ton, bnt I could not deny that tho
old fellow was right.
Occasionally afterward I met Mars ton,
fometimes at his shop, where he
always was glad to have mo and a cigar
drop in unexpectedly ; oftener. how
ever, I saw him at tho door of theater
or opera lionso, waiting for his wife.
Ho ouco explained to mo that ho could
not afford to olosu the .shop an 1 accom
pany his wife.
One night, howevor, returning from a
club dinner at au Lour when many peo- I
pie were already awake, I met Marston
on a street-ear, with an immense load of
newspapers from Printing Ilonso square,
and without an overcoat, althongh tho
weather was bitterly cold.
He seemed somewhat ashamed of
his appearance and work, but chatted
about books moro brilliantly than ever
before, and as we got ofT tho car at the
sarno street, I insisted, when we reached
my door, that lie had been very impru
dent to expose himself, and that he
mnst wear my overcoat for the rest of
the night; indeed, he mnst keep it, if
he wonld. for rough work, and save the
better one that I had seen him wear,
for mine was old, and too tight for me. :
who was much stouter thar. he. Then
f went to bed and lay awake for an hour
wondering if there was no possible way
I of doing anything for Marston.
1 soon found that there was. His bill
came in on the first day of tho month,
and that evening a very line-looking
| b< y of abont ten years, nod unmistak
ably Marston's son, called to say father
was quite sick, and would l>o glad to !
liavo the amount of the lull that oven
j r.g if convenient.
As I had never been able to learn that
• Marston had any friends, I sent him,
! with the money, a note expressing re
gret at his illness and asking if I could
be of any service to him.
Within an honr the boy returned
with a note expressing Maraton's
thanks for my sympathy, and saying
that if I had an honr to spare, and
would not object to chatting with a
sick man, who, nevertheless, would
promise not to talk abont himself, he
would bo very grateful, nis wife was
going to tho theater, and his son was
temporarily in charge of tho shop, so
ho would lie quite alone, and wonld not
object to tobacco-smoke if I wonld ex
cuse him for not smoking with me.
I accepted his invitation, and fonnd
Marston on a lounge in the parlor of a
little flat in an unfashionable street,
but everything about the room indi
cated comfort and good tasto.
Marston told mo that be had suf
fered by a sadden attack of plenriay,
but believed himself now ont of dan
ger, althongh he felt very weak. I
complimented him on the charming
effect of bis room, and be was so pleased
that he chatted alio til one thing after
another on the walls, brackets and
mantels, nntil I learned, without bis
intending it, that he and not bis wife
had selected and arranged the deoora
tions. His conversation was as bright
as ever, so I soon forgot he was a sick
man, and I neglected to look at my
watch. I was therefore surprised, by
the retnrn of Mrs. Marston from the
theater, to learn that midnight was not
an honr distant.
Marnton Intro Joced me to the lady,
who gave mo • greciona amile, and im
medfatelj began talking of the play aha
had jnat aeeti, Mking me if 1 did not
think that certain actora in the com
pany—one familiar to all New Yorker*
—were not aplendid, and whether the
leading lady'a dreeaea were not exqniaite.
tier enthnaiaam waa charming, and ao
waa the play of her feainree while ehe
talked of the performance; bat when,
'en minntee after her arrival, aheaakeo
her hoaband bow he waa feeling, eht
did it ao liatleealy and meohaaieelly
that I departed with a distinct oonvic
tion that Marston's homs-life was not
what it should be.
Two or thrco days afterward, as I left
home before daylight to catch an early
morning train, tho newspapers of tho
day struck tho front door as I opened
it, and I recognized the figure of tho
retreating carrier as that of Marston. I
also he ml a cough that made mo ap
prehensive as to tho health of my nows
man. For a moment I was inclined to
follow him and warn him against im
prudence, but I had no timo to sparo,
so I hurried to my train.
On my return; two days later, I found
that Marston's son had called several
times within a few hours, I immedi
ately hurried to the shop, btit finding
it closed, went on to Marston's resi
dence. Mrs. Marston received mo at
the door.
"I um afraid your husband has suf
fered a relapse," raid I.
"Yes," said she, "and isn't it too
bad ? 110 was to have got me a pass
to ——'s benefit to-night. I'm dread
fully disappointed. '
Tho moment I saw Marston I feared
that tho end had esmo. His faco was
strained, his eyes bloodshot, and ho
breathed with difficulty. His boy knelt
by the bod ode, with one arm thrown
ucross his father, and with moro sorrow
and apprehension in liifl faco than I
ever saw in human countenance before.
"Whore is the physician V 1 asked.
"He —why, Ellis did not think he
needed one, and I agreed with him ; he
seems only to have a heavy cold, and
has been doctoring himself."
I sent his boy for my own doctor,
who lived only u few squares away.
Tho little fellow was loath to go, but
something that I whispered to] him
sent him off in haste, only to return
with word that the doctor was not in.
Meantime I responded to an invitation
from Mars ton's eyes, and leaned over
him.
•'Excuse me," he gasped; "but I
have no friends—no relatives—any
where near. \T ill von—be—my eiccn
torr
"Certainly," I replied. He drew
from beneath bis pillow a piece of paper
that proved to l>e a will, very short but
to the point.
" Witnesses—quick I" ho whispered,
hoarsely.
I turned quickly toward his wife,
but lie seized my arm and said "Don't
frighten—her. Let me—tlie— it peace."
I excused myself for a moment to
Mrs. Marston, who was reading the
evening paper, and hurried downstairs
for witnesses, returning almost at once
with a grocer from the nearest corner,
and a policeman whom I persuaded to
leave his boat. Then Mrs. Marston
was alaruied, but stood helplessly in
the background as tho dying man signed
his will and the two men affixed their
signature*.
When the witnesses departed, Mrs.
Marston asked mo what was the mat
ter, and when I told her that her bus
band had thought it only proper to
make a will, as he should have done
before falling sick, sho ejaculated
"Oh!" in a reassured tone, and said
that the scene had reminded her of one
that she had seen in some play.
I resume 1 my position at the bed
side, kneeling to catch tho words tlist
Marston found hard to utter. The boy,
on returning, knelt also and took hi*
father's band.
" Tho stock—and—good will of—the
shop—ought—to give—her enough to
—bury me and—get her back—to—her
family. Advise her—to go—to them
She—is a good woman— bnt Now York's
—no place for—bar. My boy "
Just here M irston's voice failed him;
lie straggled, thrnst one arm toward a
chair near tho bed and took a small
bottle. I took it from him, saw
"Brandy" on the label, poured ita en
tire contents into a glass and helped
him to raise his head so as to drink it.
As soon as his head touched tho pillow
again, he whispered :
"My boy—he is a noble fellow.
What will become—of him, God—God
only knows. His mother knows nothing
—about boys—and she can't seem to
learn. Would you watch him—a little,
and save him if yon—can ? He's worth
all that—can be done for him."
I did not know what I conbl do in
the future, but I looked into Marston's
eyes, and then into the boy's, and pat
one arm aronnd the little fellow, and
drew him close to my aide ; his father
seemed to understand, and the look he
gave mo was fall payment in advance
for all I have doue or can do for the
child.
Mrs. Marston conld not have heard
any of our conversation, for ber hus
band could barely whisper; besides,
•be was deeply interestel in whatever
she was reading. Marston put forth
both bands, taking one of mine; and
laying the other upon his boy's head.
There was a moment of silence, in
whioh be looked earnestly at me and
pressed my band vary hard. Suddenly
be started, raieed himself on one elbow
rad almost shouted:
Floral"
"One moment," replied his wife,
still reading, as the boy nod I regained
>nr feet end made room for her. Again
vfaraton exclaimed, extending no arm
ae be did.
•• Flora r
" Goodness f How impatient you
are I" replied tho lady, orumpling her
nuwspuper in her hand and turning to
ward the bed.
Bnt her son sprang quickly in front
of bis father, Marston's arm encircled
him, and the boy, with a quick cm
brace, screamed :
" Papa I"
Mrs. Marston bad by this timo
reached tho bedside, saying, icily:
"Mr. Marston, allow mo to sug
gest—" • T in- - ... „j
" Excuse mo, madame," said I, bnt
be cannot hear you. He is in another
world now." , ■
Then Mrs. Marston broke into tcarH
and pitiful exclamations, for although
her heart was very small it was not bad.
For almost five minutes I was com
pelled to respect hor; after that, how
ever, her lamentations wero all for her
self, so after promising to arrange tho
details of tho funeral, and saying a few
words to tho I toy, with the hopothat he
would understand that I would always
try to be a father to him, I departed.
A day or two after Mrs. Msrston gavo
mo p, sealed envelope, addressed to me,
that she found under her husband's pil
low.
11 contained a number of pawn tickets
and a note, written a day or two before
Marston's death, asking mo if I
would redeem tho articles and save
them for his son; they had all been
pawned for money that bis wife wanted
when he could not take a penny out
of his business without mining him
self.
Among them I found a watch, an
opera-glass, two meerschaum pipes,
some club badges, a silver cup with an
inscription that showed it had boen
given Marston when he was a baby, a
handsome copy of Khakespeare, a vel
vet dressing-gown, a sword that its
owner bad worn during the war. a gold
hoa led cane and many small articles of
jewelry, including the dead man's wad
ding ring.
Mrs. Marston became resigned to the
will of Providence when I told her that
tho good-will and stock of the shop
would bring a thousand dollars. Her
mourning garments became her |>ecu
liar style of l>couty so well that she
found great eomfort in them, but soon
put thorn off at the solicitation of a
dashing young broker, who, I hope,
will marry her, for she has fully as
much heart as a man of his kind will ap
preciate, and will relieve him of any
anxiety as to what to do with his money.
Her son promises to become a fine fel
low, and has a friend who will eoc that
be never repeats his father's blunder of
marrying a girl merely for her beauty.
—John Habbrrf'yn.
A Discouraged Borrower.
Pete Freer is always hard np for
money, and is everlastingly Irving to
borrow from his friends. Colonel An
drews has got plenty of money, bnt he
ioea not like to lend it to IVle, for fear
ho would forget all about it. On tho
first of tlie month IVte met Colonel
Vndrews and said to him : "Can yon
lend me half a dollar for afowminntes?
I want to pay my landlady." •' I am
irry, Pete, bnt yesterday I let George
torner have the last half-dollar I bad
• bout roe, otherwise I would bo proud
to lend it to yon." Next day Pete made
mother attempt to borrow half a dollar
from Andrews, who said he had on tho
day before paid ont bis last cent
for taxes; but for that Uc would lot
Poto have the money in a minnto.
On the next day Pcto made another
attempt to get that half-dollar, bnt
Colonel Andrews said ho bad, on the
Jay previous, been paying bis pew
rent and it took tho last cent ho had,
otherwise ho wonld take pleasure in
lending Pete as mnch money as he
needed; that there was no man in
Anatin whom ho respected as mnch as
ho did Pcto Freer. On the succeeding
lay Pete once more tackled Andrews,
who remembered that he had on the
day before contributed tho only half
dollar he bad to the erection of an
Alamo monument, otherwise be wonld
ho prond to advance Pete the cash.
Pete began to lose hope, and yesterday
when he met Andrews on Austin avw
une, instead of asking him for tho hal f
dollar ho merely inquired: " i say,
colonel, what did yon do yesterday
with that half dollar yon oan't lend me
to day."— Texan Sifting*.
Aust r alian Vanities*.
It is not easy to grasp tbo enormous
bulk of tbe Australian continent—the
practically unlimited space within
which the oolonies have room to grow.
The colony of Victoria, the smallest
and at the same time the most popu
lous and highly developed of the con
tinent group, a about as large as Great
Britain; New South Wales has an area
Ave times that of England, bnt ia not
half so big as Queensland, and not only
a third of the sise of South Australia
Western Australia ia even larger and
more empty of population; after meas
uring acres with South Australia it
would almost have sufficient lend to
furnish out New Zealand and Tasmania,
and yet New Zealand eomperee In area
with the British islands, and Tasmania
is nearly ea large as Scotland.—Edin
tmrgk SccXtman,
MOR.VL A.M KKLKHOI'M.
Mpall li Mai.
Hero is an alphabet which will make
you study. Oet out your Bible and
turn to the places. When you have
found them, read and remember:
Au * monatrb, wlm reltrnrd In tie- Kul
K* liter t: J,
Bwu a Chal'leo who maSe a co-at f<-**L
Man. S: 1-4.
CV Wit* vcrvlou* wltso oilier* t/ild Ilea.
J Hum. IS: SO-n.
Dwa* a woman, heroic and wlae.
Judge* 4: 4-'. 4.
T.S waa a refuge, wbt-ra Marld i>arel Haul.
14 1 Ham. 24: 1-7.
T.S wa* a Human aecuaer of Paul.
.T Acta U: I.
( "1 wa* a garden, a frequent reaort.
IT John l*: l, I; Malt. IS: SS.
Hwa* a city, where Mavld held court.
• Ham. t: Z
[wa* a mocker, a very bat] hoy.
lien. IS: IS.
Jwa* a city, prepared a* a joy.
I'aa. 137: S.
Kwa a father, wboae *on wa* unite tall.
1 Ham. I: 1,1
I war a proud one, who bad ago at fail.
J iaa. 14: 11.
Mwai a nephew, whore uncle waa good.
Col. 4: 10; Acta 13 : 14.
Nwa* a city, lone hid where It rtood.
7-eph. 1: 13.
(v waa a aervant. acknowledged * toother.
J Philemon 1: IS.
1) waa a (TtrUllan. greeting another.
I Tim. 4: 11.
|> wa* a damat l. who knew a man'* vi ce.
IV
Sail a aovei' •, who made a trad choice.
1 King* 11: 4-11.
f|S wa* a araprjrt, where preaching war long
1 Acta ): S, i.
XT wa* a teamrter, rtruck dead for hi* wrong.
J 2 Haw. 4: 7.
\f wit* a cat-otT, and nerer re-tored.
K*ther 1: 11.
/wa* a rutn, with rorrow deplored.
p.a 137: 1.
—Churth l/awa
IfrllitoiiM NFWI and S.le.
The M'lkwliM LM return* indicating
tlie reclamation of nearly 40,000 souls
•ince January 1.
The Methodists of Washington Ter
ritary hare decided to establish a col
lege at Spokane Fills.
The Engliah clutch secures and
spends for bnildir.g and repainng
church's about $3,000,000 per annum.
There is a marked increase in the
number of the theological students in
Germany. In 1173 there were 1,53G;
last year, 2.3HL
Easter this year, a writer in Note*
and Qwne* states, was kept on the an
niversary of tho day on which the res
urrection actually occurred.
The Moravians number in this oonn
try 9,637 communicants a gain of ltd
during the first year. Twenty-five were
excluded and 913 "dropped" during the
year.
Of the flro bishops of the Southern
Methodist church, Bishop Paine is not
expected to do much more active ser
vice, Bishop Pieroe feels tho weight of
years, Bishop Kavanaugh is over fonr
aoore, and Bishop Keener, though not
old in years, has not robust health.
Bisbop McTyeire is strong and active.
Tho Methodist missionary report
states that the society has ninety-nine
missionaries and seventy assistant mis
sionaries, 21S native ordained ministers,
227 native local preachers, 28,127 mem
bers aqd 8,712 probationers, showing a
gain of 1,425 members and a loss of
twenty-five probationers. The number
of missionaries engaged in domestic
missions was 2,246. The total of mem
bers was 21,151, and of probationer*,
3,418.
Sculptors' Stories.
Sculptors who cxecnte busts often
hear droll things said. Hero arc two
anecdotes taken from a French news
paper: A sculptor had produced the
likeness of a celebrated personage,
in whose biography it is mentioned
that he regarded architecture as a very
secondary art. The son of thia person
age visited the artist's stndio for the
purpose of examining the bust, when,
after considering it with the air of a
connoisseur, he said: "Conld yon not
express more clearly his oontempt for
architecture ?"
Another time it was the husband of a
beloved deceased wife, who came to
see her bust. "Pray, etndy it well,"
said the artist; "it is only in the clay,
and I can still alter it." Tho widower
looked at it with tho most tender in
terest. "It is her very self I" be ex
claimed; "her lar go nose—the sign of
goodness I* Then bunting into tears
he added: "She was so good. Uake
the nose a little larger 1"
Why the LHUe Chicken* Hay " reve."
A citisen of onr county tell* the fol
lowing M a true fact: He had a choice
hen setting on nienteen eggs. One
morning on paying the hen a visit he
found that she had left the nest, and he
soon peroelred that a large black snake
had cnrled itself within the nest. Opon
seeing this the gentleman stepped back,
gathered a stick, and killed the snake.
On cntting off the head of the snake be
took it by the tail, shaking it OTN the
nest, the nineteen eggs dropping back
into the nest The eggs being left in
the neet the ben returned to her seat,
and in due time she had hatched
eighteen little chickens, said by those
who have seen them to bo rare euriosi
ties. This peculiarity is noticed in the
little chickens as being afraid of every
•tick they tee, running beck from e
eUok in the greeteat terror, ottering the
ery of " pare."—Aweno.. (Wa.) R*pmi>-
fioen.
How a Lawyer Silled Hla Wife.
Tt In not often that • more remarkable
story in beard in a court-room than waa
told by Lawyer O. J. Landing, of Eu
reka, Nev., on trial for the killing of
bin wife. When he took the witneaa
ntand the grief in bin face hunhed the
bar and the spectators into a pitying
silence. lie began by declaring thai
be bad oonaonted to aay what he woald
have to aay about the dead only upon
the urgent requirement of hie counsel,
and for the nako of hie daughter.
Then be gave the jury the hiatory of
hia married life. Ever aince 1864 it
had been, be aaid, wretched in all
ways. Hia wife took to liquor. She
waa a powerful woman—fully hia equal
in atrengtb. When drunk the waa vio
lent, ferocious. Bbe repeatedly at
tacked Lira, threatening to kill him,
and, aa ho believed at the time, mean
ing to carry out her threat. Hho
throw rocks at hia head, poured
boiling water over him, tried on
several occasions to atab him with
the carving knife, once at leant
drawing blood. She followed
him into court, making such a dis
turbance that the police had to remove
her by force. Bhe burst into hia office
and heat him over the head with a raw
hide till the blood streamed down hia
face. Bhe beat hia little daughter with
an iron poker. " I felt like letting
loose all holds," be aaid, " and I drank
heavily, too." Once or twice he decided
to leave her; Ouee he bonght poison
and waa on the point of swallowing it
when be thought of bis daughter and
threw it away.
Last year matters grew worse, until a
night came when he did not dare to
sleep under the same roof with her, and
called in a neighbor. They tied her
wrists and ankles with silk handker
chiefs. "I'll kill you for this, sure,"
she screamed. At daylight ahe prora
aod to behave, and they unbound her.
At her request he irent out for two bot
tles of champagne for her to "sober
up on." He wandered about ail da/,
shunning hia acquaintances, trying to
straighten himself up. "I could not
be atill in any place," he aaid. "I
could neither stand up nor sit down
—had to walk all the time." At dusk
be went home. The Chinaman had
finished his work and gone for the
night. Hia wife came through the
kitchen and went down cellar—as he
supposed to get whisky ; "she often
hid a bottle down there." When she
came up, he spoke of going down town.
••You—," she said, " I'm fixed for yon,
and you shan't leave this housel" He
tried the door; it was loeked. He
turned sround ; bis wife wss right in
iront of him, her hand pressed to her
hip. " I'll kill you I I'll kill you!" ahe
•creamed. In a frenty of utter ner
vousness and terror he caught up some
thing—it was a kitchen chair—and
struck her. Ho saw her lying at hia
feet Then he found himaelf out in the
street—be had no remembrance how be
got there—looking np at the dark win
dows of hit neighbor's house and de
ciding not to wake him up. Then all
is blank again in his mind until a later
hour when he was standing in front of
the sheriff and uttering the words, " I
have killed my wife." The jury were
out twenty minutes. When they came
back it waa with a verdict of " not
guilty."
A PernHar business.
Mis* Nellie Webber, of New York,
describes herself as "an artist and
manufacturer of memorials." Her fac
to rj in the Bowery is littered with pio
tnre frames, the wood of which they
are made, type cases, a printing pre*,
wax flowers and leaves, and cardboard.
Many yonng women are employed there
and six salesmen are kept buy outside.
She showed a reporter a memorial ready
for delivery. It consisted of an ornate
frame a foot square, glazed and contain
ing a black card on which in gilt was
printed the words: "In memory of
George Byrne, died April 7, 1882, aged
thirty-four years" This was followed by
s few tonching lines of mortusry ver*%
and the whole was encircled by flowen
in white wax, bordered with a deep
binding of white satin. There was a
apses opposite the printing for the re
ception of a carte de visile or a lock of
the hair of the person of whom it was a
memorial, but as neither was furnished
in this oase, a big wax flower was af
fixed to the card on that side.
"Yon see there are 600 deaths a weak
in New York," said Miss Webber, "and
lately the number has risen to 700 and
even 800. I get all the death
and send my talesmen to the houses
with samples of ths memorials, sad
they gat a great many orders. The
memorials sell for St 50 eeoh, whether
cash is paid or only a dollar paid down
and the rest In weekly installments. I
have patented the idea, have been la
business five years, and have a branch
in Louisville, Ky., and another in In
diana polia"
The is* ehotild be ted bat little eon
daring the list two month* of her
pregnane*. Her diet should avoid thai
which it so heating and fattening.
Oats, bran, middlings and beets are a
great deal better than the
oorn diet of the Wert.