The Countersign.
Alas ! the wear, hours |>ns slow,
Tho night is very dark ntul still,
And in the niai-slipi far below .
I hear the bearded wiiip-poor -will;
I scarce can see n yard ahead,
My cant are HtrmiH'd t > catch each 800 ml;'*
I hear the leaven about me shed,
And the springs' bubbling through the
ground.
Along the beaten path I pace,
TV hero white rays mark my BCII 1 ; xr?.?k> ;
In formless shrubs I seem to trace
The foeznan form with bending book.
I think I saw him crouching low;
I stop and list, I stoop and poor,
I ntii the neighboring hillocks grow
To groups of warriors far and near.
IN ith ready pace I wait and watch,
Cntil my eyes, familiar grown,
1 Vteot each harmless earthen notch,
Aud turn gnerrilas stone;
And then, among the lonely gloom,
Beneath the weird old tulip tree.',
My silent marches, I resumo.
And think on other times than these.
Hweet visions through the sitent night,
Tho deep bay window fringed with vine;
The room within in softened light,
The tender milk-white hand in mine,
The tender pressure and the pause
That ofttimes overcame our sj>eech—
-1 hat time when, by mysterious laws,
We each felt all in all to each.
And then that hitter, bitter day
When catne the finnl hour to pnrt,
When, clad in soldier's honest gray,
I pressed her weeping to my heart;
Too proud of me to bid me stay,
Too fond of me to let me go,
I had to tear myself away,
Aud left her statued in h4 Woo.
80 rose the dream, so passed the night,
When, distant in the darksome glen,
Approaching up the nwful height,
I heard the solid tnnrch of men.
Till over stubble, over sward.
And fit Ids where law the golden sheaf,
I saw the lantern of the guard
Advancing with the night relief. *
"Halt! Who goes there?" my challenge
cry.
It rings along the watchful line.
" Relief!" I hear a voice ropiy.
"Advance, and give the countersign!"
With bayonet at tho charge, I wait;
The corjioral gives tho mystic spell;
With arms at ;iort I charge my mate,
And onward pass, and all is well.
But in the tent that night, awake,
I think, if in the fray I fall.
Can I the mystic answer make
Where the angelic sentries call ?
And pray that Heaven may so ordain
That when I near the camp divine,
Whether in travail or in pain,
I too may have the countersign.
Fritz-Jams*
THE SILENT PARTNER.
"Yon have a sad and strange ex
pression to-day, F.i 1 gar, which troubles
me," said Clara ltenton, addressing her
affianced lover. "In fact, you have
not seemed like yourself, since the
death of your father, four months j
ago."
The young man's only answer was a
sigH the meaning of which, however,
his fair companion understood, al
though the subject had never been
referred to between them. They had
been engaged abont a year, and their
wedding day, although not definitely
decided upon, was looked upon as not
far distant. In the meantime, how
ever, Mr. Alison, Edgar's father, hail
become seriously embarrassed in his
business affairs; and matters had
grown continually worse, until the
climax was reachfsi, rendered still
more severe, as well as unavoidable, by
the general prevalence, at the time, of
business failures. While still working
with every nerve of brain and body,
in one of those desperate struggles
which so often end in either success or
death, a fever, induced by the intense
excitement, had terminated his life,
leaving his affairs in almost hopeless
confusion, while his wife's health was
so shattered by the terrible shock that |
she was reduced to the condition of a
confirmed invalid.
Edgar, who hail gradnated a year
before, and was then at a law school,
dropped his books and came home at
once, what he could do in the
way of saving something from the
wreck of his father's estate.
Clara Benton, his affianced, was an
orphan, and possessed of a fortune
amounting to about seventy thousand
dollars, which was under the charge of
a prudent and careful lawyer, her
guardian, while she was not to be per
mitted to have control of it until she
would be twenty-three years of age.
"Well, Clara," said Edgar, breaking
m painful silence, "at our engagement,
I supposed my fortune would be about
equal to yours. Now, I scarcely dare
to feel certain of being able to save
anything. The only part of my father's
, once large fortune which is in any
measure available is his factory, still
at work, earning a little money. It
may possibly be saved from the wreck,
but it will doubtless require some
i years to bring out that result. There
•re many large claims against the
-estate ; and, working as I must single
handed and alone, the out-look seems
almost desperate."
"Do not let these troubles make you
despondent, Edgar," said Clara, affec
tionately. "At the time of our engage
nent we were expecting to be married
within a year. Of course Ido not de
sire to hasten that event In any way
'•hat docs not seem to yon best. But
my life is shut up in yours. If you
were absolutely penniless, tt. would not
make a shadow of difference with me.
I I have enough for both of us."
"I know that is what your generous
v heart would suggest, my darling !" re
plied her lower, with deep emotion.
"But the prevailing sentiment of tills
world is of a very different character. ;
Already sly intimations have come to
me to tho effect that the loss of my
fortune would not be a very serious
affair to me, since I have a rich wife
in prospect, whieh I was shrewd enough
to secure in time."
"Let these ungenerous insinuations
pass for nothing, Edgar," said Clara,
with quiet dignity. "You know they
have no power to touch my mind for
an instant."
"I have been thinking this matter
over a great deal lately, Clara," said
Edgar, pressing the little hand lie was
holding. "And while 1 have not the
remotest thought of ever disregarding
my engagement, I believe it is better \
for us to wait a few years and let me j
endeavor to repair my fortune, with- !
out anticipating any portion of yours.
You are now only nineteen and I
twenty-three ; we will lie young yet for
some years. I will direct my energies j
to this work. I will take hold of the j
manufacturing business my father left, j
adapt myself to it and make that the '
use of my life instead of the profession j
to which I had been expecting to de
vote it. I must be a business man, and
I will try to be a useful and successful
one."
More conversation followed, which
we have not space to detail here, dur-1
ing which, however, Clara questional 1
her lover with much interest in regard
to the condition and character of the
property he was endeavoring to save ;
and they parted at last, tnore firmly
bound, so far as related to their future
hopes and expectations, than ever. It
tiad been agreed that their marriage
should not be deferred beyond Clara's
twenty-third birthday, unless by her
own desire, which he felt certain
would not Is 1 entertained or expressed.
She stood looking after her lover until
he had passed from view, then wafted
a kiss after him from the tips of her
pretty fingers, and returning to her
room opened her writing-desk and be
gan to indite a letter, with an expres
sion upon her bright face of mingled
archness and resolution.
Two days later, while Edgar ws
seated in the private office at the Vic
tory with a pile of liooks and papers
l>efore him, which he was endeavoring
to bring into some order, a visitor was
announced, and the next moment he
was clasping the hand of Mr. Blanch
ard, an old and well-known friend of
his father.
After a few preliminary remarks,
expressive of his deep regret at the
sudden death of Mr. Alison, the visitor
-aid :
"I have tieen talking a little in re
gard to your affairs, Edgar, with tie
lawyers who have the management of
your business not, of course, learning
anything from them except w hat I felt
certain you would be perfectly willing
to have me know. They tell me that
the business is by no means in a hope
less condition. There is a considerable
amount of real estate that can le saved,
I understand, by paying off encum
brances on it, and 1 ladicve yon also
hold some two or three patents, sup.
|ised to lie available and valuable in
the manufacture of articles to which
the factory is adapted, and for which,
1 with a little capital to tiring them out,
' there would probab'v IK; an extensive
demand."
"All that is so!" said the young man.
who had l>een listening to his visitor
with peculiar interest. "But. single
handed, I am virtually powerless; and
the wide prevalence of business failures
has rendered it impossible for me to
procure aid that I might otherwise have
obtained."
"I have no capital," continued Mr.
Blanchard, "that it would be right for
me to put in jeopardy. The most of
my property is in real estate, on which,
however, 1 could borrow, I suppose,
for a term of years, and at a moderate
interest, so much as you would be likely
to need. The question simply is this,
can I put the money thus borrowed i
into this business in a perfectly safe I
way?"
The suggestion thus made was like
a godsend to the struggling and em
barrassed young man. and he at once
applied himself to the task of making
it available. The rasult was that with
in a few days an arrangement was
made, by whieh Mr. Blanchard Itecamc
a silent partner in the business, with a
half interest in everything.
"What a noble old man Blanchard
is!" said Edgar to himself, after the ar
rangement hod Ken completed, and
the first installment of ten thousand
dollars, by which his affairs were
I brought Into working order, had been
• paid in. And with the view of supply
' ing the large and rapidly increasing
1 demand for those patented articles,
further sums were added, until by the
end of a year, the whole sum thus ad
vanced had amounted to twenty thou
sand dollars, and the business was mov
ing on prosperously.
Stimulated and sustained by the as
sistance thus opportunely afforded, and
devoting all his energies to swell the
tide of returning fortune, Kdgar found
the time passing swiftly. On several |
occasions he reminded his partner that
he was at liberty to draw out a few
thousand dollars of his part of the pro
ceeds of the business if he desired to
do so; but Mr. Ulanehard always rc
plied that he had no present need for |
anything except what was necessary to
pay the interest on the money he had I
liurrowcd.
When the day agreed upon for the
wedding at length arrived there was no
need for further delay. And as Kdgar j
held in his own the liand of the fair
girl who had just been made his bride,
it was with the proud and happy con
sciousness that he had vindicated his
honor, and t lint no one could charge
him with having seized the opportunity
to save himself from pecuniary ruin by
marrying an heiress.
About a week after the return of the
young couple from their w(siding tour
as they were at tea <>ne evening, Clara
said, looking up at the same time, with
a bright and happy smile;
"I had a call to-day, Kdgar, from
your old friend and silent partner, and
hereto a little document he left with
me, which may perhaps interest you."
Taking the paper, Kdgar read an as
signment, for value received, conveying '
hto partner's half interest in the factory
to his young wife.
"This, my dear, is a very extraordi
nary affair!" he said, as he laid down
the paper and looked inquiringly at his
vis-a-vis. "The purchase of Mr. Blan
ehard's interest in the business must
have taken a large part of your for
tune."
"Perhaps not quite so much as von
imagine," replied Clara, gnvly. "What
do you consider the value of the inter
est he has now assigned to me?"
"I know," said Kdgar, "that It was
worth forty thousand dollars to him
from the fact that he has been offered
that sum for it within the last two
months by a wealthy business man,
who urged me to use my influence with
him to part with it."
"Ho would have had a falling out
with me if he had done anything of
that sort," said Clara, with an arch
look.
"With you?" repeated Kdgar, with
an expression of such utter bewilder
ment that his young wife could not
refrain from a merry peal of laughter.
"Pray till mo, my dear," he contin
ued, "how much this assignment has
cost you?"
"Twenty thousand dollars, with a
little more," was the reply. "1 loaned
Mr. Itlan' hard that sum through my
guardian."
"And that was the money I received
from him!" cxciaiinul Kdgar, while a
light broke over his face. "I now see
why he was willing to accept enough
from the business to pay the interest .
on the liorrowed money, Imt had no
occasion to draw anything more. And
now tell me the whole story my dear."
"Well, Kdgar," said his young bride,
turning her radiant face upon him. j
"the conspiracy was simply this. Mr.
Blanchnrd has been an old friend of
our family as well as of yours, and has .
always leen deeply interested in my
welfare. On that day whon you so
perversely refused to anticipate any of
my fortune, and I made myself so in
quisitive, as yon doubtless remember,
in regard to the exact state of your
business affairs, a bright thought came
into my mind. As soon as you were
gone I sent for Mr. Blanchnrd, and ,
after telling him the whole story. .
requested hini to find some way by j
which my money could aid you. The
only way, he said, would lie to have j
my money loaned to him through my
guardian, and he would then, if the j
securities eon Id le made satisfactory,
invest it in the business. After look
ing into the matter carefully,, he
decided that an investment of ten
thousand dollars in the way it was
made, and afterward ten thousand
| more, would lie entirely safe; as per
fect in every way as the security he !
I had given me for the inomey, and for
I the payment of which, to my estate,
|he was making himself responsible,
even in the event of his investment in
your business proving unfortunate."
"A noble an generous course on his
part, certainly t" said Kdgar, warmly.
"But had you any security thnt
woukl have boon binding on hto heirs
in the event of his death T'
"Yea; although, of course, i had
determined that any possible lorn that
might result from the investment
should he mine, not his. I bad his
written obligation to teuufer hto
whole interest in the businei* to me
on the cancellation of the mortgage;
he, at the same time, leaving it entirely
1 to me to give him whatever 1 thought
1 1 lest for his services. Ho was not
disposed to tak anything, saying that
he would rather think of what lie hud
done as being prompted by a regard lor
our mutual welfare, ami without anA
hope of inward. But I thrust a
thousand dollar check into his hand,
, and placed a ring on his linger, which
he will wear, I am sure, as long as he
! lives. Ad now, my dear," she added,
with a gay laugh, "after this display of
j my conversational powers you will no
longer regard me as a silent partner."
"Perhaps not," said Kdgar, rising
from his seat, and bending over Clara's
; chair, while at the same time he took
tier face between his hands and im-
I printed a fond kiss ujsin the upturned
lips. "But a most acceptable one in
either respeet, sinee 1 shall have her
for life. And how can I thank you,
! my darling, for having so nicely and
generously given me the benefit of a
part of the fortune I was not willing
to share, until 1 could bring to it, as I
can now, a full equivalent; while, at
the same time, I have the delightful
realization that your act of kindness
has not only been the means of ensur
ing my fortune, hut has largely addod
to your own."
A Man Without Fear.
"Bravery!" an old British officer of
marines said lately, when talking over
the newspaper rejsirts of the daring of
some of our soldiers in Egypt; "very
"flen bravery only means Satan getting
into you, for the time. You lose your
head—and your fears. Now, the
bravest man I ever knew was a con
verted thief. He had smuggled him
self into the marines somehow, without
letting it he known that he was a
tieket-of-leave man. My lieutenant
had once to take my men on shore to
garrison temporarily a small fort near
(iirgenti, near Sicily; among them was
the ex-thief. Hardly were our men
landed and in command of the guns
than two of the enemy's ships hove in
sight, and soon they were- launching a
landing party under cover of the ship's
guns. We were but a handful and no
match for the Ixiatfuls attacking us.
Our fire was kept up steadily, but so
was the fire frmn the ships. The men
in the forts were dropping fast. The
thief had a leg sruasheil. At last—l
am forced to confess it—the two or
three marines who still had whole
"kins took to their heels into the scrub
wood behind. Poor chaps, there was
some excuse. Certain death was
crawling up the hill upon them in that
landing party, which neared the ram
part with rounds of cheers. *ShaiAe T
eri'd the thief after his running com
rades ; and up he got, loaded a gun,
and find it right in the enemy's face,
jud two seconds before a sword thrust
put him forever out of pain from his
broken leg. The man had always been
a sneaking fellow on board, and we
were surprised enough at the heroism
of his end. When his loss was reported
home, it came out through some
relative, that he was a convict. Poor
w■ retch 1 he made a plucky ending, a 1
any rate I"
West India Superstitions,
It is considered vers - unlucky to tell
the name of a boat before it is launched.
A calabash turned upside down in a
Itoat is a sure fore-runner of ill-luck,
either in weather or fishing. The oil
' obtained from a shark's liver rubbed
lover the skin is a protection against
the attack of a shark. Fish brought
' into a place where arrowroot or other
starch to U>ing prepared prevents a
separation of the star- h sediment from
the impurities suspended In the water
used. To turn your boots upside down
brings loss of money, and to open an
umbrella In a house prevents your ever
marrying. Never wash your hands In
water which another person has used,
unless you first make the sign of the
; cross over it. When a glass cracks
suddenly in a house it foretells a death,
and a horse stopping before a house
and neighing is also a sign of death,
jlf a cock crows In a house a strangei
! may be expected.
A mining superintendent in the
West says that by the use of the chro
nograph he ascertained the fact that
the long pump hobs in his mine moved
down at the top before they stopped
coming up at the bottom—that to, they
went both ways at once. This seems
absurd, hut it is rational, for the pump
Iwb being 3,000 feet long, and made of
; wood, some time elapses before motion
at one end to transmitted through to
the other. It would be interesting to
know exactly where the neutral point
s.—ifechani<nl Engineer,
A new nursemaid has been engaged
for the family of John Leech. On her
appearing in the nursery she was thus
addressed by Master Leech : "Nurse,
papa says I am one of those children
, that can only be managed by kindness,
! and I'll trouble you to fetch some
, sponge cake and oranges at once."
; In the Argentine republic many
Irishmen have made great fortunes at
i heep farmers.
The French Wrestler* at the Fair.
The owner of the booth or circus has
usually two or three professional
wrestlers, a heavy, medium and
weight. As soon as lifting weights,
[throwing weights, balaueing weights,
and other sueh like performances are
got through with, the wrestlers stand
forth unel challenge eaeh individual in
the crowd to an encounter with which
ever of their number he shall himself
choose. There is usually some one
among the audience bold or foolish
enough to try his skill, for which daring
feat he usually gets a rough mauling
and a heavy fall on the sawdust thrown
down in the middle of the ring. But
on this occasion it seemed the height
of folly for a lad of some nineteen
years to accept the challenge, as his
appearance was slight and his form
wholly devoid of muscular dcvelojc
im nt. That, however, was lit* affair,
not ours. Retiring behind a little knot
of his companions he stripped himself
completely naked, and remained so, with
the exception of a pair of bathing
drawers, throughout the encounter.
When he appeared on the sawdust he
lookd like a lath. Never had we seen
a form so utterly devoid of those
hunches of protuberances on any legs
or chest which are usually held to indi
cate strength, llis color was that of
a red Indian, his appearance that of a
lad of seventeen. His professional op
ponent, on the contrary, was a very
mass of muscles, which hung at suit
him like knots, reminding one of the
cartoons of Raphael or the paintings
of Ilubens. To it they went with a
will, at first warily stretching out
hands to lay hold of hands, then strik
ing arms or filling for a grip at the
waist. Presently the professional had
his man round the body, and lifted him
about like a straw, but somehow be
could never throw him fairly down.
The youth's feet seemed to feel the
ground, even when dangling in the air;
he turned himself alsiut like a snake,
he fell on his hands or feet, or laid him
self on the ground flat upon his
Stomach, while the athlete danced
round him, pulling, tugging, twisting
in vain—for to gain the battle it is
necessary to make both the shoulder
blade* of the fallen foe touch the
ground. For a good quarter of an hour
the youngster butted like a bull with
his head down, slipped out of the most
deadly grips, and sometimes threw his
adversary with great violence, yet with
j out m:iking his shoulders touch the
earth. The professional got wary; he
was evidently a little afraid, yet
, never doubted the final issue of the
j fray. At last they joined and wrestled
| furiously, struggled, fell—the youth
| under the giant; one more turn and it
! would l>e over with the poor boy, when
suddenly he caught the athlete round
j the neck, squeezed, as if a vise, his
I jugular, lifted him clean up into the air,
| planted hiin as flat as a pancake upon
his broad back, and rose the victor of as
i fine a struggle as ever mortal eyes
1 U-held. We pitied the poor professional,
for he looked so very downcast; but the
amateur we admired so much that w<
offered him money, which he refused,
showing that he tw-longed to the better
• lass, and w as no confederate.
letter H riting.
Some one who has lieen looking Into
Ihe subject declares that promp atten
tion to friendly correspondence requires
xinsidcrablc nohilitv of biding. It Is
undoubtedly the case that friendship
which cannot Is- doubted often seems
M fail when letters should be written.
In importance the friendly letter
scarcely equals the fashionablecalL If
it rains the visit is simply postponed.
But if the mental horizon is only
cloudy—and it generally is w hen letter
writing begins—the letter is also post
poned. But generally for a much
longer period and with scarrcdy a
thought of the breach of good manners.
Rut after all, th<- main root of our neg
ligence is at the Is it torn of the heart.
Love letters an- always written quickly
and well. Why? Love is a passion
finding a natural outlet in eloquence.
Friendship is a sentiment lying still in
the deep recess of our heart easily ig
nored among the more vital rlaims for
our interest. The passion of love needs
restraint because it is the all-atworli
ing, consequently harmful, element of
our nature. The sentiment of friend
ship needs cultivation liccause it is one
of the spiritual elements which act as
a restraint upon the former iu direct
ing love from one to more. Now, we
all know ourselves prone to Indulge
In what needs restraint, and neglect
what needs cultivation. The writing
a love-letter is only indulging the pas
sion which needs restraint, and the j
neglect to write a friendly letter to neg
lecting the sentiments which need cul- \
tivatlon. We see now why it to easier
to write a love, business, or any other
letter which concerns our immediate
feelings or interest, but nobler to w rite
a friendly letter which has nothing in
itself to gratify. It to only with the
noblest attributes of the soul that we
can carry on a friendly correspondence
with credit and pleasure.
Hweet Krenlng* Tome and (Je.
Bweet ivtntiK* n,ii,i- and go, litre.
Tin-) earn* and wxtit of yore;
Tlii* evening of our life, love,
Kliall iro and come no more.
When WO hnve |.UHW<I away, I'/ve,
All thing* will Imp tlieir i-muef
Hut yet no life on osrth, krea,
Willi our* will be the KDUI*.
The dniaii-H will lx> there, lore,
The aLara in hon*eii will ahiuaf
I shall not feel thy wish, lora,
Nor thou my hand in thin*.
A better time will come, lora.
And better aoula be bora;
I would not be the beat, lore,
To leave thee now forlorn.
—fJtrtry Eliot.
FTNGKNT PARAGRAPH*.
A talc of the sea—The ma serpent's
tail.
The la teat thing In cradles—The new
baby.
A movement on foot—a walking
match.
There is no doubt but a lean man
can enjoy a fat legacy.
The man with a wheel-barrow carries
everything before him.
When a powder magazine blows up (
it can, wo suppose, be called flash
literature.
New Orleans has tried a John China
man on the jury, and he was a suc
cess. He agreed with the other eleven.
Hindoo girLs are taught to think of
marriage as Mon as they can talk.
American girls are not. They don't
require teaching.
An Indian boy 14 years old was held
up and kissed by seven school girls,
and he was so broken up over it that he
tried to hang himself.
The Long Branch hotel-keeper who
charged a typhoid fever patient |1,!100
for three weeks' board is now in court
to answer to the charge of robbery.
George Francis.Train lives in Now
York at an average expense of $3.80 j>er
week for food. Ten years ago his
cigars cost more than that per day.
A Pacific coast exchange doubts if
any man lives in San Francisco for any
other purpose than to make enough
money to get aw ay and live somewhere
else.
It is said that a woman wa the first
one to discover the blotting pad. Don't
believe it. If she had been in a hurry
she'd have blotted the letter on her
apron.
It is said that the Governor of
Missouri is jealous because ten persona
call ujon Frank James to one upon him.
Hasn't the Governor sand enough to rob
a train.
It has been fifty years since the papers
commenced to advise people not to
blow the gas out, and yet it is still
practiced enough to keep the graviy
digg' rs' business lively.
The advance agent of a bat! show has
the l>est time. He can get out of town
l>efore his company performs. It is the
manager who must stay and pay
salaries and hear the compliments.
There isn't any written testimony to
prove that William Tell w as ever called
upon to shoot an apple off his son's
head. Indeed, at the time of Tell apples
were rarely seen in Switzerland.
A man fishing around in his pockets
for a niekle to secure his admission to
a five-cent lunch house, can hardly
realize that the amount of coin in cir
culation in this country is over |7tX>,-
OOrt.OOO.
My boy, when a man, any man, tells
you he wouldn't have your horse or
gun, or your dog a* a gift, don't offer
to give it to him. That kind of a man
always takes everything he can get for
nothing, and never pays a cent for any
thing.
"Gentleman, you may not think it,
but I have stood on the top round of
the ladder," said an inebriated in
dividual who was haranguing the
crowd. "Troth; thin," exclaimed one
of his hearers, "t hat same ladder mus*
a' l>een lvin' flat on the ground."
"You don't appear to catch on,"
remarked the post to the gate; "I like
to see a gate well posted."—l feel
hinge red by your remark." replied the
gate; "your raillery seems barren of
wit."—"Thatls your staple remark
when you are shut up," answered the
post; "you never like to see a post
holed his own."
Notice the <jniet Girl*.
Noisy girls arc often very lovable
and have their uses, and all quiet girls
are not endowed with genius and vir
tues, for some are simply fools who
would lie noisy enough if they could
, And anything to My. Hutjre protest
against the habit which prevails of
i slighting quiet girl* and speaking ill of
them liefore they have been fairly
tried, and of paying sickening homage
to the conceited chatterboxes of little
moral sense and principle. While
noisy damsels will often turn out to be
gaudy impostors, many quiet ona will
amply repay the time, trouble and
iove which any one bestow apoa
them. ■