The Aatama Wind
maple irrore in rahna of peerlm Ajr ,
Thn om'rald sweep on eofUr elofang hills;
Transparent streamlets swiftly flowing by;
Each Inter blootif beside the [4n<nd rilltt—
And Nm< dome rounding silently alio* e.
Disclose, in measures more than we could
link,
The perfect inanifeet of heaven's lovo,
The new aorounte from Nnture'e golden
tank.
Gliding tln ■ nigh this unblominhed antumn
U^ti
There come# n i-oet from the nrctie binds;
And though hin form csui never meet our
sight,
Ills viewless harp, an swept by cunning
hands,
Now seems to mourn a dirge for summer's
death.
And now to gayly load the harvest songs;
But when the leaflets feel his sudden breath.
They flutter down in rainbow - shaded
throngs.
Oh valiant northern sprite of nutmnn wind !
I love thy music and thy nerviug touch;
And when thy monarch, Frost, shall come,
and hind
Earth's many forms wiUiiti his certain
dutch.
Then ringing skate and sleigh bells' merry
chime,
And glad huzzas of urchins just from
school,
■Shall tell the regal pleasures of our clime,
While ancient winter holds his sturdy rule.
—AddiMm f. Itrmvnr.
FLORENCE'S WAGES.
" Ami so you have really and truly
enjoyed this month in the country,
Cousin ("live?"
" I have, indeed, Florence ; and the
only tiling that takus the sting from
regret at leaving this dear old place, is
the thought that you are to return with
me, and that I may try my utmost to
make you enjoy the next month as I I
have done this."
"To introduce inn into society, to
oring me out I suppose?" said Flor
ence. M Hut don't you think I am
rather old for that sort of thing? I
have seen twenty. Cousin ('live."
"Without one season in New York,*'
said he "without one admirer save the
clownisii young men of the neightsir
liissl, without asingleofTer of marriage,
if I mistake not, Floy. It is really ,
shocking to bury your lieauty for so
long in such a remote place as this."
"As to offers of marriage, you are
wrong," replied the young lady, laugh
ing. " I have lieen honored by two—
one from .Mr. Sam (Jregory, who, with
a great deal of hashfulness and fidget
ing about, asked my consent to IK* Mrs.
Sam, and the other from the Kev.
Westrop I lean, a poor curate who
couldn't sound his r's. I didn't accept
either."
.Mr. ('live Hardinge liftisl his hand
with a gesture at disgust, and, shaking
his head, replied, dolefully: "Which it
will eventually come to, perhaps, if
you are not quickly lifted out of this
mediocre class inb that higher grade !
of society to which yon are entitled by
birth ;uid position. I am very glad
you are going to my mother for a little
time; for. although there is not, my
dear cousin, a more ficrfect lady in all
New York than you, yet thn constant
companionship of this so-called upper
class of the village might in time cause
you to forget that your superior birth
precluded the |Mssihility of your ever
choosing a husband from among tin
young men of tin- families you are in
the habit of visiting; for it would ill
beneem the blood of a Hardinge to
mate with one beneath her."
The hot bps*! flew up in a torrent to
the girl's face as her cousin uttered
these words, for she knew that her
mother had been so considered to de
mean herself, when, two-and-twenty
years before, she disobeyed the com
mand of a stern parent and u sterner
brother, and proudly placed her hand
in the strong, warm grasp of a man
who had no sin against him hut his
poverty, his ;unhitimis day-dreams and
his love for her. She remembered how,
in this obscure spot, they had eked out
his meager pittance; how the glorious
productions of art that his glowing im
agination had vivified into almost liv.
Ing creations had passed away, and left
the noble face drawn and sad, and the
large, eloquent eyes, that hail fought
so bravely for them, a closisl volume
of blindness and death. Then the
struggle for life, for existence, the long
years of suffering and sorrow of her
early life, and subsequently the one
thousand dollars a year that some un
known relative, dying, left them.
She had never seen a single member
of hT mother's family until n few
months tiefore, when (Hive Hardinge,
son of that brother who had scaled up
his father's heart against his sister all
the days of his life, came suddenly upon
them in their quiet country home, was
struck with the refinement that per
vaded the atmosphere in which his
aunt and cousin lived, and charmed
with the raro grace and fresh beauty
of the young girL He hastened to cre
ate an amiable understanding between
ibis mother and Mrs. Lysle, which, being
easily effected, as Mrs. Hardinge en
tertained no foaling at resentment
against a woman she had never seen.
he suddenly fancied that t lie cool, ft-esh
breezes of Hillside might have a bene
ficial influence on bis town-bred consti
tution ; and, therefore, without any
circumlocution, he gave a broad hint
to that effect. His aunt took the hint
and invited him. During his stay*lie
and Florence had been a great deal
thrown together, and, with a constant
interchange of thought and opinions
passing between them, grew in a
month pretty well to know and appre
ciate each other.
('live Hardinge was neither hand-1
some nor young; but he possessed that
which our people, and our women es
pecially, value more in men than cor
rectness of feature, or even youth
strength, eourage and manliness. Five
ami-thirty years had rolled over his'
brown bead, and left the wavy hair'
still brown, and the gray eyes un- \
dimmed in the tire of their boyhood. j
He consider himself a middlc-ngcd
man now; a.id, if any midsummer
day-dream ever had tinged with a tran
sient brightness the even tenor of his
life, it was long since rolled up in the
forgotten past. He took an interest in
Florence, a deep interest, by reason of
tier lieauty, her innocence and Iter un
pmtectinn. Maif of the world as he
was, thoroughly understanding all the
ins and outs of society, he felt tliat his
cousin was no common girl—that she
was at once adapted to till a higher
position than that in which she had
yet moved. He tpok this interest to
heart, and acted ratlmr vaguely upon it.
In the pause that succeedi-d this last
remark his keen discernment instantly
detected the insult ho had unintention
ally offered her, and, with a slight em
barrassment in his face, he bent for
ward and -aid: " Forgive rno, Floy; do
not misunderstand my meaning. I am
referring to yourself. You will be en
gaged before you leave New York.
Mark my words."
The flush ditsl out of her face ami a
merry sparkle danced in her eves as
she said, gayly: " What, in one month!
My good cousin, how quickly you arc
going to dispose of me! Make no such
rash prophecy, thou oracle of evil."
"Hut I do," said ('live. "Let me
bet you a dozen jsair of gloves that my
prediction will come true."
"Against what?" -he asked.
"Against a kiss." he replied.
"Sir, you surprise me J" said Flor
ence. " Hut you would lose your let."
"If I lose I will pay," said he; "and
if you lose you must pay."
"Hut I shall not lose. Cousin Clive,'*
said Florence. "I am sure that none
of the gentlemen to whom you intro
duce me will satisfy my fastidious
taste."
" Wait until you see them, my dear
child," said Clive. " You are very un
sophisticated. I only fear they will
tind too easy ingress to that little un- 1
tritsl heart of yours."
She laughed a laugh that had a ring
of scorn in it. which made him look up
with a puzzled expression, as though
he could not quite fathom her, as she
left the room.
♦ • • *
Mrs. F.arldale's saloons were crowded i
with fashion, lieauty and wealth. It '
was her last ball of the season, ami the
most brilliant she had given. Among
the assembled ladies it was evident
that one was the center of attraction. 1
the dazzling star around which the
smaller stars*-cased to shine. She was
quite surrounded by gentlemen ohtru-1
sivc in their attention and tiresome In
their flattery. She seemed to feel it i
acutely, as she stood, with heightened
color and disdainful lifts, mutely in the
midst. She scarcely lifted the curling
hishes from the dark hlaek eyes, or
gave the least movement to the hair
that covered her white shoulders like a
golden veil. She was perturbed and
distressed, and wanted to get away
from them. All the evening she had
been herself merry and gay; but her
most careless glance had Iss-n met by
one almost passionate in Its admira
tion, her laughing tones answered
by the most fiillsnine flattery,
that, angry with herself and them
—having aptly learned in three
short weeks to heartily despise the hol
low mockery of what the world calls
pleasure—she now stood this last hour
in the tmllrooin in anything but a
happy frnme of mind. At last there
was a break in the circle, and the low
tones of the votaries of fashion
ceased for a moment, as a young man
of quiet gentlemanly ls-aring made Ids
way up to the young lady.
" Miss Lvsle," said he, " permit roe
to conduct you to the conservatory.
Yon were speaking of—"
They had passed through the rooms,
and she turned to thank him for
bringing her away.
"But where Is Clive?" she asked
"Are we not going home? I am so
tired, Willi".'*
" Tired of dancing, or of New York
j dissipation, Florence-—which?" he
1 asked.
I •• Both," *1€ tvjiiird. " I wouldn't
live here for worlds, if F am to be
draggesl about night after night like
this."
"Then such a life has no charms for
you?" he said.
" N'o. indeed," was the reply. " 1 am
disappointed in Olive llardinge.. I
thought him superior to such frivolity,
lie seems to like it."
"There you mistake, Floy," said her
companion. "It is society that courts
him—not he who courts society. As
you say, he is superior to it."
"Then why does he go into it so
much ?" she asked.
"He is performing a sort of pen
ance," was the reply, "and mixing in
gaycty, which lie detests, for the sake
of one Lie cares for much, to see if the
pure gold of spirituality in her heart
will stand the test of the scheming
world."
She looked up into the clear dark
< dive's dearest friend; hut
beyond the smile upon her lips, and the
slight pressure of her hand upon his
arm, the could read nothing.
" I am going home in five days," she
said, as they pass*si through the rooms.
"Are you sorry or glad?" he asked.
"I shall he glad to see my mother
again," she replied; "hut 1 shall he
sorry to leave my aunt, she has been
so kind to me—and and Cousin
Clive."
" He is rather old, di-n'f you think.
Floy?—something of the old bachelor
aWuit him too old to marry, in fact."
"Who—Clive?" she said. "He is
not old—is he? 1 never noticed it.
His",hair is not gray, and his face is
not wrinkled. lie is very handsome
is Cousin < live.
" Handsome, Flov? You must have
put <>n love's spectacles, surely; friend
as he is, I could never call him hand
some yet."
" Don't talk nonsense, Willie," s:iid
Florence, pettishly. " I repeat ('live
Hardingi* is handsome. lb* has more
strength, might and majesty in his
countenance than a dozen ordinary
men. Hero he come*; now, judge for
yourself."
If a very weary lo<*k and a pole face
denotes! a handsome physique, Clive
Harding'* certainly jMisse-ssesl it at that
moment, lice-ame* forward to Flor
e*nce*.
"Would you like* to go now?" he
said, kindly; "mv mother is already
cloak id and waiting for the- carriage."
She quietly took the- profT<-res| arm.
and. e-xte-nding ht-r hand tee m Clive'*
frie-tiel, bade- him good-night.
Miss Lysb- silt at work in he r aunt's
morning roeon the- day be-fore- 10-r de
parture- beerne-. The* blue* eaahinere*
rolie she Wore suited we ll the purity of
he*r complexion and the* rich curls eif
glittering hair. She looked marvel*
eeusly pretty, ami so thought"live* Hnr
dinge, as he* male- it his special btisi
ne*ss te> visit the* room that meerning.
But he-r e-vchishe* Were We-t; she looked
as if she- haet bes-n shedding a te-ar or
twee, sile*ntly, there- to he-rse-lf; and,per
haps, the- seeftne-s*arul tenelernessin he-r
face* niaeh* he r nppe-ar meire lewiutiful
still, ("live- carries! a king, narrow Nx
in his hand, eef blue cnaine-1 ami gilt,
anel places 1 it unele-r he-r eye*.
" The* lie-t. Florence-," said be. " Had
veeu forge>tte-n it? You have ween it
quite* fairly, or you w ill have elone so
tee-inormw. for there* remains yet one
more elay In-fore the uieenth is com
pleted. Xeew, will yeui tell me why you
have see coldly declined the twei offers
of marriage you have lie-en lionoresl
with since your stay with us?"
" I have not felt myself honored,"
she repliesl. "One was from a spend
thrift and debauchee ; the other from
a brainless fop who possessed lint one
idea in the world—that of admiring his
own figure."
" But you have repelled admiration
so jiersistently," said ('live; "others
who certainly admired you, miglrt
have—"
" Thank you. Cousin Clive, for the
lx't. May I look ?" interrupted Flor
ence Lysle, as she put out one baud for
the box.
"Certainly not, until to-morrow,'•
was the reply; " then you may wear
home the prettiest pair of glove* the
I MIX contains, if you like; nnd when
you are gone, perhaps I shall lie able
to get hack my rest again and my ap
petite*. You have robbed me of both
since you have lieen here."
"Cousin Clive!" she exclaimed.
" I say you have robNsl me of both,"
repented Clive. " Be-fore I saw you I
was able to eat like any other ordinary
mortal; hut now the dazzling things
at the tat dee nre not thee plate anel crys
tal. but a pair of snowy hands that
keep moving up and down, and mes
merize my black e*ye* to look at them.
Be fore you came, I could sleep soundly
enough at night, and wake refreshed
in the morning; but now my dreains
are wild and feverish, of liewilderlng
eyes and glittering gulden hair, nnd
one ethereal form that coition between
me and slumber."
- life ■ - _ FJLJ T*• J
" Please don't, Clive," said Florence* i
"But 1 will," said he. "Oh, you |
shall fairly win your bet, my little
Floy, I am a cross old bachelor,
cousin; hut for all that, I mean to tell
you that I love you with all my Herat
and soul."
Her head dropped down suddenly,
and the long hair fell over hot cheeks,
and her hands trembled and clasped
themselves together on her lap.
There was a painful pause*; and
when Florence dared to lift her eyes
she saw ('live Hardinge's face hurled
in his folded arms, cjulet arjd still.
She rose hesitatingly, and then went
up to him, placed one soft hand on his
hair, while with the other site* ex
tended the unopened box.
" 1 don't want your gloves, Cousin
("live," she said.
"Why not?" lie asked, with white
lips.
" Because I have lost my bet," she
replied, turning away her shy face.
" Florence—iny darling Floy, have
1 won it?" he exclaimed, rapturously,
starting up and catching her hand.
" Vcs, and me, too," she murmured,
as she lifted her blushing face to his,
ami his arms closed around her in a
tight embrace.
Hugs.
When an American buyer arrives in
the heart of the rug-making country
in Asia he selects the Iswt agent he
can find and gives him an order for,
say, Psi rugs, ~f almut th<* colors and
sizes of certain samples which he may
find in the bazaars. The Turkish
agent tle-ii employs natives of the
villages where the kind of rugs selected
are wanted, giving to each a hag of
gold and instructions to {order four
rugs. The subagent then gee* among
tin* families and talks rugs with them,
drinking many cups of coffee and dis
cussing the price for days at a time.
When a bargain is conclude! some
money is furnished the family for wool,
dyes and feed, and the agent goes away
-nr that in the course of a few months
the rug will he ready. Up*-n a carpet
measuring eight fist by twelve a whole
family will work for months. The
cotton or woolen threads which form
the groundwork or warp of the fabric
are stretched upon a huge frame the
width of the rug, and the family, or
such memlicrs of it as are able, sit on
the floor and tie knots in the warp
threads with the colored wool tufts,
tightening the finished fabric now and
then with a rough comb.
Kah worker take* about twenty
seven inches of the rug and works
along this strip. From two to four
inches a day is the speed at which the
rug advance* if the family is large
enough for the whole width of the
rug to advance at the same time. A
rug eight or nine feet wide requires
four persons, who work side by side.
The finishing of the rug, smoothing,
clipping, etc., is a work requiring skill
and judgment. The wages are very
small and the payment is according to
the number of square feet. The work
ers know certain patterns by heart and
dve their own wools. The old dyes
have in some instances ls*n suje
pbtnted by aniline colors, which do not
keep their tones, and fade without giv.
ing to the rug the softness of tint which
is the chief glory of a fine Eastern
rng. Si many merchants have refusal
to buy the caqiets in which aniline
dyes have been u*id that the use of
them may eventually Is* stopped.
The rug-makers as a class are poor
in money, very ignorant and very re
ligious, hut live comfortably. Espe
cially around the borders of the'C as pi an
sea, in the country watered by the riv
ers from the Caucasian mountains, are
the people in comfortable circum
stances, although alsuit three centuries
behind the resit of the world. The
rugs and carpets are brought in from
Persia ami the neighboring districts on
camels' backs, the arrival of camel
trains l>eing one of the curious sights
of the town.
A Helpful "01"
An eminent clergyman sat in his
study, busily engaged in preparing his
.Sunday sermon, when his little Iwy
toddled Into the room and, holding up
his finger, said, with an expression of
suffering:
" Look, pa, how I hurt P!"
The father, Interrupted in th * middle
of a sentence, glanced hastily at hiin,
and with just the slightest tone of Im
patience, said: " I can't help it, son.'*
The little fellow's eyes grew bigger,
and as he turned to go out, he said, in
a low voice: " Yes you oould; you
might have said, ' 0/ "
" Didn't von tell me, sir, you could
hold the plow ?*' said a farmer to an
Irishman he hail taken on trial. " Ar
rah. IH< aisy now," saldi Pat; " how the
deuce can I hold 1A and two horses
drawing H away from we? But give
it to me into the barn and bo jabcrs
| I'd tumid It with anybody."
I'IIK FAMILY DOCTOR.
VIWKOAB KOII TUB RICK BOOM. —
There is a French legend connected
with the preparation colled vinaigre a
guaire voleurs. 'During the plague at
Marseilles a band of robbers plundered -
the dying and the dead without injury
to themselves. They were imprisoned,
tried and condemned to die, but were
panloni-don condition of disclosing the
secret whereby they could ransack
houses Infected with the terrible
i scourge. They gave the following re
'■ cipe, which makes a delicious and re
freshing wash for the sick room: Take
of rosemary, wormwood, lavender, rue,
sage and mint u large handful of each.
Place in a stone jar, and turn over it
one gallon of strong eider vinegar;
cover closely, and keep m ar the fin-for
four days; then strain, and add one
ounce of powdered camphor gum.
Bottle and keep tightly corked. It is
very aromatic, cooling and refreshing
in the su k room, and i* of great value
to nurses.— N<>r Y<,rk Tribrme.
lii nss.—Protect from the air by
cotton wadding or lint -aturatnl with
olive oil, linseed oil or glycerim*, con
taining five <lr<>ps of earlsdic acid to
the ounce of oil or glycerine*; or apply
: common baking soda, well pow-bred,
and cover it with a wet cloth; or apply
a mixture of equal parts of linked oil
and liine water, with twenty drops >f
pure liqu''ti<*d carbolic aid.— In.
F<*i\+'n ll'nlth Muuthhj.
Mi i>i< Ai. I -i -or LIMB WATMI.—-
If g*>ol milk <li.igre<-s with a child
or grown p< r- on, lime water at the
rate of three or four tabb-spoonful* to
the pint, mixed wit It the milk, <r talon
after it. will usually help digestion and
prevent llatulenec. Lime water is a
simple ant-u id. and i* a little tonic-
Pure lime water, even though pretty
closely corked, soon <b*t re-rate-* by ur
l.ni<* acid in the air. wbi< h unites with
the lime and settles as an insoluble!
rarlstnate. To have it always ready
and good, and at no cost, jmt into a
tall pint -r quart glass Nettle of any
kitel a gill **r so of good lime just
slaked with wider. Then fill tie Nit
tb* nearly full of rain <>r other puro
water, and h*t it statel qui* tly. corking
well. The lime will settle, leaving
char line* water at the top. I'our **lT
gently a* want*l, adding more water
as needed. Sine* carbonic acid will
enter, hut the carbonate will settlo
upon the sid<*s of tie* Nettle, and freshly
saturated water remain. The lime
should be removed and a new supply
put in once a year *>r so, unless kept
very tightly corked.
Mew Wheat IMstrlrts.
According to the F<trm'r, an exten
sive wheat-gr>>wing ilistrict is about
to lie opened up in India. The pajeer
says: The India office is lending its
.sanction just now to an enormous
scheme f*>r the reclamation of the
waste lands of the Punjaub. The
waters of the five rivers which
give the name to that region flow*
wastcfully away to the sea, leaving a
large tract of desert land, some of
which was once fertile, to lie the home
,of nothing and noNidy. Those same
rivers arc sufficient to make that same
desert blossom as a r<se. The work
of cutting canals which would afford
means With lor navigation and irriga
tion would N> enormous; but so
far is it thought feasible that
the India office has undertaken
to use the canals, jeaying tolls for its
transit, and to buy the irrigation water,
undertaking on its own account to col
lect the water rent from the natives-
Engineering experts declare that the
special work can easily l>e done, and
reports have lieen made to the India
office which show that the land to lc
reclaimed ha* soil so rich in alluvial
deposits from the Himalayas that we
, may reasonably anticipate tlw time
wb<n a great region now suffering
only from want of water will become
| the great wheat-bearing territo. y of
j India Some portions of the great
I doab which it is proposed to reclaim—a
! doab of 50,000 square miles In extent
—have undoubtedly l>oen Ixeth inhab
ited and highly fertile in their day. In
some pla<*es the canal is almost male,
the unused IKS I of diverted rivers ly
ing ready to be again filled with the
life-giving stream; so that the earlier
portion of the great work will be com
paratively e*y. But whether easy or
hard the reclamat ion of 50,000 square
miles of land In an over-populated
country, the Irrigation of a tract so
enormous in a country visited by fam
ine, is atasktheinagnifleeneeof which,
from an engineering and from a politi
cal point of view, almost overweight*
the imagination.
The only woman In the Vermont
State prison is Mrs. Meeker, the mur
deress; and as she is to le hung next
April she knows of no inducement to
' behave herself, yells hideously-at night
and is so savage aud Intractable that
j she Is kot locked In a sottttr cclL
The Illot.
1 From Jersey to Mauluittan shore.
Aero** the Hudson'* pulsing tide,
'l"be I'ilot, skilled in nautic lore,
devolve* hi" wheel from "><l to side.
j In "ilent ways be wui* lu* hay*,
i Hi* mold i "trong. hi* face i* dun,
Bronzed by the kiting, amorous ray*
Blown from the nostril" of the "tin.
When Night's brown hand uiieoila her hair,
And spread* it o'er the water* blue,
The pilot'* eye "he fire* with rare,
And bind* hi* breaat to dnty true.
The lazy tog i* dim!) -tarrd .
Willi ball* of red and blue and green,
And screaming whi*tle* -tartling guard
A [rntmatr felt, but all unseen.
All groping through the rnu*king mi*t,
The (UtfimlKiata MCH.". like |.re-ing "in,
Ajid cling to soul* that wont<#W^|*t
< )n day, one hour of life to wfnlX^
The life that fill* the pilot'* hand
lU[ond to heart* with baled breath,
While faith aw-end* to hi* command,
And doff* it* phantom raiment, death.
Hwjh f'urrar Jfr/xrmof'.
ITNtiENT IWItAI.KAI'HS,
The gil<h*l youth of the present gen
eration ia generally lined with brass.
Ono of the lie i t aggravating of
Wes.is a spiral stud on a close-fitting
shirt bosom.
.Man proposes and woman diagnoses.
More particularly so if it's a plate of
vanilla < ream.
Tears are merely a leakage of the
eyes. Onions, when young, are a
Species of leek.
" This is an early fall," as the man
said when he dropped on the 5
o'clock banana p■< I.
The artist who painted "the perfect
picture of despair" was the first man
to draw a long face.
Many a man is not satisfied to live
on the face of the cartb. He tries to
live on his own face.
A young man at Chester, Pa., got
( in.nl and fled to part* nnkn <wn because
, his girl would not pay f. r his wedding
suit. Such . stingy girl does not de
, serve a litlsls'ind.
K<- inomv is certainly an excellent
. thing, but it has never succeeded in
i making cornel lxsf and lsiiled cab
■ bagc taste quite so g.**l as tenderloin
. steak and mushrooms.
" I)o you own this fence?" savagely
■ inquired a farm< r <>f a tramp who was
! hanging over the structure. " Xu, 1
i don't own It," grinned the nomad,
•but I've got a lean on it."
" I like your new hat very much." lie
said; "it's 'chic,' there's a sort of
' abandon'—" " There Isn't any
sort of a band on it," she said, pout*
ing, "it's a real ostrich feather."
Says Josh Hilling*: When a man
kumsto me for advice, I find out what
kind of advice he wants, and I give it
t<> hiin; this satisfy.* him that he and
1 are two-as smart men az there is J
> living. |
Ah Yu Sing, the secretary of the
Chinese legation, ha* thirteen sons aad
eleven servants. If lie werean Ameri
can with so many children and ser-'
1 vants he would at once change his
name to Ah Yu Sigh.
The retort courteous: He (after
proposing and being rejected)—"l
sujqxise in the end you w ill Ik> marry
ing some fool of a fellow—" She
(breaking in) —"Excuse me, if I
meant to do that I should have ac
cepted your offer." [SilenceJ.
A fashion item says the Wile of the
period now wears at her wai*t-!>elt a
little music-lmx, faintly playing a
single tune. We suppose this is to
enable the gentleman to explain to
anylwdy who comes along unexpect
: wily that he was winding the box.
!j "Pray," said Mr. to a gentle
man he overtook on the road, " will
you have the complaisance to take my
great coat in your carriage to town ?"
| " With great pleasure, my dear sir;
but how will you get it again?" " Ohl
very easily," replied the modest appli
cant, " I shall stay in it."
koskt sail Momrr.
1 lore you, love, for good or ill,
A* blown bees love sweet honey—
I love yon, love, soul, heart end will.
For sober nkiee or nanny.
And yei 1 j<au*e I falter milt,
ForOl one doubt; one fear doth thrill
My (Uriitit. my darling.
My darling have yon money ?
My darling, my darling,
My darting have you money?
I love yon, lore, I love yon. lore.
But O yon mast have money—
A red rose is a raw. my love,
B" 1 if It hold not honey.
The busy be*, he will not May,
But humming aim he hie* away.
My darling, my darling.
My darting have yoo money? I
—JtHUfmim Miller.
I haw the weather change with the
1 moon? Bir William Thompson tells
' 'the British Science Association that
there is no connection between the
two things, as far as he can discover,
and he has studied them.
Hale county, Ala, is looking out for
jher m<*yju(UtrT, and is gathering %
ttaa
f 1 • ta