A Baby's Feet.
i.
A haby'i font, iiko•ea-tbell* pink,
Might tempt, should lieavon sen meet
An angel's hp. to kirn, wo think,
A baby's feet.
I.ike roae-hucd m-Aowtn towtnl the heat,
I'll of atreteh iuiil spteoil anil wink
TTieir ten aolt limla that pnrt anil meet.
No flower-bells that expand ami shrink,
(.learn half so heavonlr sweet
Aa shine on life's untrodden lit ink.
A baby's tcct.
u.
A hahy's hands, like rosebuds Inrlod,
Whence yet no leaf expands,
Ojie if you touch, though close upcurloA
A baby's hands.
Then fast as warriors grip their bramie
When lint tie's liolt is hurled.
They close,clenched hard like tightening bands.
No rosebud vet by dawn impearlod,
Match, even in lovelieat lauds,
The sweetest flowers in all the world—
A Imby's hands.
111.
A Imby's eyes, ere speech begin,
Kre lips learn won! or sighs,
Itlo-w all things bright enough to wh.
A Imby's eyes.
Love, while the sweet thing lauglis and lies,
And sloop flows out and in,
Sees perlcet in them I'aradise,
A Imby's eyes.
Their glance might cast out |>ain and sin,
Their speech make dumb and wise,
Ity unite, glad godhead felt within
A hahy's oyos.—.Su-iiAuriw.
COUSIN ROLF
ot out, you old scamp!"
It was a brilliant July day, with
skies of cloudless blue, the air scented j
with clover bloseotus, and the iirmik
wending its melodious way under
green masses of peppermint; and Mr.
Carey, who had walked a long dis
tance, and had just fallen into a doze,
under the refreshing shadow of a
gnarled old apple-tree, started galvani
cally up at this ungentle address.
"Ma'am," said he, "I assure you I am
not trespassing; I—"
But his apologetic words were cut
short by thp rattling of a stout stick
on the stone wall, close to him; and in
another moment, a belligerent-looking
r el cow, came plunging through the
high grass, directly toward his haven
of refuge.
ffe started to run, hut his foot
catching in the gnarled root of an
ancient tree, lie fell headlong. The
cow executed a hurdle leap over his
prostrate form, and vanished in a
clump of hazel bushes; and a resolute, I
bright-eyed woman, of some forty odd
years, came to the cue, with a (lap
ping sunbonnet ver her ears, and
the stick balanced across her shoulders.
"Don't strike!" pleaded Mr. Carey _
"I'm getting off the premises as fast
as I can. I assure you, I didn't know
I was trespassing."
Desire Welland blushed very pretti- I
ly. as she pushed back the sunbonnet, |
and endeavored to adjust her luxuri
ant red-brown hair, which had broken
loose from its pins.
"Oh, I'm so sorry!" said she. "It
wasn't you I meant at all, sir; it was
the cow who had gut into the cabbage
patch. Did I hit you with the stick?
Hut I npver dreamed of any one but
Bossy being there. Oh, do let me run
home and get the camphor bottle?" I
Slowly, Mr. Carey raisisl himself to
sitting and then to a standing posture;
slowly ho felt his knees, ellwiws and
collar-bones.
"I'm not hurt," said lie "not to
signify, that is. It wasn't your stick,
ma'am; it was the roots of this old
tree. It's enough to startle any man,
don't you see? to hear himself called
- an old scamp."
"But it wasn't you I meant," breath
lessly cried Desire; "it was the old
cow. Won't you let me run up to the
house and get a capcine plaster? Oh,
do."
Desire was fair to look upon, in spite
of her forty summers, with big black
eyes, a laughing cherry-red mouth and
cheeks just browned with the health
ful hue of mountain breezes. Mr.
Carey felt himself gradually softening
us lie looked at her.
"No," said he. "I don't care
cap'ine plaster. Hut I've walked a
good way, and 1 should like a bowl of
cofTee if it's bandy."
"Oh. pray come up to the house,
then," said Desire. "It's only a step
across the orchard. Oh, that cow, that
cow! We must certainly have her
hampered after this!"
•Terhaps," said Mr. Carey, solemnly,
as he endeavored to straighten the
edges of his hat, "you know a family
by the name of Welland who live here
alxxits. Two old maids, who manage
a farm all by themselves. Very pecu
liar females, I am told."
Desirestood still and began to laugh,
while the deep crimson suffused her
cheeks.
"Why," cried she, "it us. It's me
and Malvina. We are the Welland
girls."
It was Mr. Carey's tur" to flush and
look awkward now.
"Oh!" said he. "Well, it don't mat
ter. I've business at the Welland
farm- that's all." •
"Isn't it strange that things should
happen so?" cried Desire, opening the
gato into the dim, shadowy orchard,
where scarlet lilies grew in the tall
grass, and robins darted in and out of
the drooping boughs. "There's the
house. You can see it now. Malvina
and I have managed the farm ever
since father died. I'hilo that's our
bro er has a house and an estate of
his own, and his wife don't want anv
single relations. But we've done very
well, everyone says. Here's the place.
And here's Malvina!"
Miss Malvina Welland was diligent
ly hoeing sweet corn in a man's hat
and Isiiits. She was a tall, Amazon
ian sort of female, with high cheek
bones, hair cut short, and a masculine
way of leaning on her hoe. She looked
sharply around at the sound of foot
steps.
"Is it the new hired inan?" said
she. "Then, Desire, you may tell liiiu
that we don't want help that conn's at
this time of day. I'll have no eight
hour men on my place."
"Oh, Malvina, hush!" eritsl the
younger sister, in despair. "It's a gen
tleman on business."
In came Brother I'hilo from the
hack yard, with an auger in his hand
"Kh ?" said Brother I'hilo, aw rinkl<sJ >
hard-featured man in a blue overall,
and bo<'ts that looked as if they might
hate been carved out of lignum vita*.
"Business? It ain't a sew in'-maeliinc
' s'pose? or a new patent reaper, nor
any o' these labor-savin' humbugs?
Because -"
"It's about your Cousin Hoif," said
Mr. Carey " I'aul W(-Hand's son. He'
come back from Australia. He res
quested tne to conic over here, as I hap
pened to be passing this way, arid see
what his relations would do about giv
ing him a home."
At the-e words, Mrs. I'hilo Welland
emerged from the currant-bushes,
w here she was picking the sparkling,
ruby-colored fruit to make jelly. For
Mrs. i'hilo believed in always picking
her neighlsir's fruit liefore she Ix-gan
on her own,
"A home, indeed!" said Mrs. I'hilo
"It's what I always told you, I'hilo!
Savs I. that man'll lie s .re to come,
back some day, poorer than poverty
says I. And he'll expect us to take
care of him then. But we've worked
a deal too hard for our money -me and
I'hilo- and if he wants to Is; sup
porteil, let him jftst go the poor,
house. I'aul Welland always was .1
rovin' creetur", and Itolf ain't no let
tor, I'll go bail!"
Mr. I'hilo Welland screwxl up his
face into an expression of the utmost
caution.
"P'raps voji'rc his lawyer, sir?'
said lie.
Mr. ('arey nodded.
"I art for him," said he.
"Then tell him," said I'hilo, succinct
ly, "that if lie expects we're goin*
to sii|<[Mirt him, he's mnside-a-bly mis
took! We've always took care of our
selves; be can do the same! Come,
Betsey, we'd better lie goin""
"I'hilo!" cried out Desire; "how can
you lie HO selfish ? Itolf Welland is
our cousin. If he is in want, or trou
ble. whom has be to look to hut its?
Malvina, you won't be so hard-hearted ?
The old farm-house is lug enough for
our Cousin itolf as well as for us.
You never would turn a sickly old
man adrift upon the world?"
"No. I wouldn't!"said Miss Malvina,
thumping her hoe upon the ground.
"I/mk here, stranger, tell Holf Well
and he's welcome to a home with us.
We live plain, but we're ready to give
him a hearty welcome. Tell him to
come here at once. The sooner the
1 letter!"
"Women is fools," incidently re.
marked I'hilo Welland, chewing a stalk
of currant leaves. "If you lost what
little you've got. do you S'JMISO this re
lative o' yourn would raise a finger to
help you? Bet every man take care
of himself, say I!"
"And who knows," cried Desire,
brightly. "Perhaps we can get him
the district school school to teach? I
heard Squire Loamea say that the new
teacher wasn't going to stay more than
a quarter longer."
"I'm glad you can afford to take free
lioarders," said Mrs. I'hilo, acidly. "Me
and your brother we can't!"
"Do come in, now. and get the
coffee," said Desire. "And a few late
strawberries, Mr.—Mr.—"
"Carey ia my name," said the
stranger, who had stood immovable
beneath the rtery hail of this con
versational episode. "That is to say.
it Is my name now. 1 chanced to
make myself useful to a rich old gen
tleman in the Kast, who took a fancy
to me, and left me his property in his
will. The only condition appended
was that I should take his aamn In a<l
- to my own. And Carey isn't a
bad name."
"Certainly it ain't," said I'hilo, with
watering eyes. "I only wish we bad
a few of that sort of old gentlemen
out this way. I'd change my namo
half a dozen times u day if it would
bo any accommodation to 'em. Ho
you're rich, eh? Betsey,"—to his
wife "if this gentleman would be so
kind as to come and take dinner with
us to-day—"
"No," said the stranger, in a clear,
decisive voice. "Will you be so kind
as to hear me out? Carey, as I have
already told you. Is only my adopted
name. My real name is Itolf Welland."
"What!" roared I'hilo.
Mrs. I'hilo scrambled so hastily to
her feet that she upset the pail, halt
full of currants. Miss Maivina dropped
her lua*; and Desire, who had just
brought out a little saucer of late,
luscious, red straw berries stood amazed
at this revelation.
on!" she cried, "our Cousin Itolf!
And I marly hit you with the stick,
chasing the cow, and half startled you
out of your senses, and—"
"And taught me," said the old
bachelor, with a strangely-sweet smile
"that there is yet left a spies* of un
selllshness in the conglomerate called
human nature. Cousin Desire, 1 thank
you lor the lesson. Believe me, I shalj
not soon forget it!"
And ls-fore the day was over, In* hail
helped Miss Malvina finish In r patch
of sxx cet-i'orn, arid mended the defec
tive fence-rails where tin* offending
cow hail broken through, besides stak.
ing up the sweet-williams, and nailing
the big rose-tree to tin* frame from
xx hence its ox 'T-blossoming xx eight had
dragged it.
"1 declare," said Mis* Malvina, "lie'
a real comfort alsuit the place"'
"And he has traveled so much!' 1
crid Desire; "and lie talks so beauti
fully! I only hope he'll Is* contented
here!"
There was no sort of doubt aln>u'
that. Itolf Welland Carey xxa* \crj
well contented, lb* bail always hun
gered and thirsted for the details of a
home life here it was to perfection.
But Mr. and Mrs. I'hilo were not so
well suited. All their spasmodic ef
forts toward friendliness were checked
with Arctic frigidity.
"It's too bad!" said Mrs. I'hilo, al
most crying. "He'll Is* certain sure to
gti and make a fool of himself by
marrying De-ire, and w** shall never
get a cent of his Uioney. Desire ought
to be ashamed to think of such a thing
at her age'"
But Desire was only forty, and there
are late roses as well as early ones. At
least, so Mr. Welland thought. At all
exents, he married Desire, and the
I'hilo Wetlands were disconsolate.
"It's all our bad luck'" said they.
For they had forgotten all alsiut tin
passage in tin* Bible that speaks of
"entertaining angels unaxvares!"-
//* /*■/! F .rrrst Urartu.
Hi rd-Fating Frog.
The following curious narrative is
taken from the Cape Tim *. (South
Africa) A lady living in the George
district supplies the following particu
lars of the habits of this creature:
"I hax e much pleas-ire in furnishing
all the information we have regarding
the large frogs which haxe proved so
destructive to our young chickens. A
water shut runs round our terrace,
and passes through the ground whern
the |M>ultry range, and in this the frogs
harlnr. The lirst time our attention
w as drawn to their bird eating propen
sity xx as bv the cries of a small bird in
a fuchsia near the stream. Thinking it
hail been seized by a snake, several
hastened to the spot, and saw a beauti
ful red and green sugar bird in the
mouth of a large greenish frog; only
the bird's bead was x isible; and its
cries becoming fainter, the frog wax
killed and the bird released. Its feath
ers were all wet and slimy, and foi
some days we could distinguish it in
the garden by its ruffbxl plumage.
Since then the same species of frog
have on several occasions la-en killed
with young chickens half swallowed,
and once a duckling was rescued from
the same fate. Whether the noise is
natural to those frogs, or assumed to
decoy the chickens within their reach,
we know not; hut they constantly
make a chuckling sound so exactly like
a hen calling her chickens for food
that we have seen whole broods de
ceived, and rushing toward the sluit
where they supjmseil the hen to Is*.
The frogs are very wary, and it Is diffi
cult to ftnd them r xrept by the screams
of their victims. We have lost large
numbers of small chickens in an unac
countable ifianner, and now feel sure
that these frogs must lie answerable
for very many of them, as there ar
no rats here, and the chickens are care
fully housed at night "
A MIND OIIStTUFD.
A Stan Onrr Inuiit llfirrllwi lII* SmM
tlona. Heaaon Strtfaliiril A Tier Twsltc
lean.
I xvas once insane and I often muse
over my experience. There are, of
course, many kinds of ir sanity. Some
mental disorders take place so gradual
ly that even the closest companions of
the victim are at a loss to remember
when the trouble began. It must
have been this xvav in my ease. One
evening, after an oppressively warm
day, a day when I experienced more
fatigue from the heat than ever before
or since, I sat on the j torch fanning
myself. "This arm that is now In
im** on," I mused, "must one of these
days he dust. I wonder how long will
the time be," Then I musi-d upon the
evidence I had of immortality. I could
do things that other people could not
accomplish. I hail gone through
battle after battle, and though bullets
sang and str<. k around me thick as
bail, yet I remained uninjured. 1 h;vl
passed through epidemics of yellow
fever. My idea gained strength as 1
mused, and 1 was convinced that I
should live forever. No, this cannot
Is*, for death follows all men alike.
Yes, I am to die like other men, and I
believe it is toy duty to make the most
of life; to make money, and enjoy my
self and to is locate mv children. I
wanted to Is* rich, and 1 began t" study
over an imaginary list of enterprises.
At last I hit upon radishes. I'eople
must have radishes. They should be
in every store. They could Is* driisl
and sold in winter, i would plant
fifty acres with radish seed, and people
all over the country would refer to Un
as the 'radish king.' I Would form a
radish syndicate, and buy up all the
radishes, and travel around ami be ad
mired. I hastened h> the house to tell
my wife that she was soon to IK* a radish
queen. At the breakfast table 1 said •
"Julia, how would you like to be a
radish queen ?"
"A what?" she exclaimed.
I explained my plan of a-qubing
gn-nt wealth, and during the recital she
acted so curiously that I xvas alarmed.
1 feared that she wa* losing her mind.
Finally ho seemed to understand, --he
agreed with me. hut told me not to sax
anything more atiout it. After break
fast I saw her talking earnestly xx ith
her father, and I knew that she was ex
plaining to the old gentleman how she
intended to pay his debts xxben I t*e
came known as the radish king. The
old man approached me, xx ith much
concern, and told me that I m-i-ded
rest, and that I must not think of busi
ness. He was old and sadly xx.irricd.
and I promised him that I would n*>t
think of business. I'rettx soon I
went out to insjtf* t my radish king
dom. Looking around I saxx the old
man follow ing me. From the held |
went to the village. I approached a
prominent citizen, xvho had always
been my friend, and told him how I in
tended to liecome rub. He seemed
grieved, and 1 -aw at once that he was
contemplating the same enterprise. It
seemed mean that lie should take ad
vantage of me, and I told him so. He
tried to explain, but he made me so
mad that I would have -truck In in if
my father-in-law had not come up and
separated us. I tried to i.tl. i myself,
but could not. Thoc who had liecri
my friends proved to 1 my enemies,
and I was determine<l to i*e avenged,
but lx*fore 1 could CM 'Ute my will, I
wax seized by several men. My father
in-law did n**t attempt to rescue me,
and I hated him. I xxa* taken to jail.
My wife came to see me, but xbe did
not try to haxe me released. I de
manded a trial, but n*> lawyer would
defend ine. Then I realize 1 that the
whole community was against me. I
Ix-came so mad that my anger seemed
to hangover me like a dark cloud. It
pressed me to the Moor and held me
there. Men came after a long time,
and tisik me away, 1 thought, to the
penitentiary. '>nc day a rat came into
my cell, and I triixl to bite it. She
made the hair My. tint I killed her. 1
don't know hoxv long I remained there,
but one morning the sun rose and
shone in at me through the window.
It seemed to tic the first time that I
had seen the great luminary for
months. A mist cleans! from liefore
my eyes. My brain began to work,
and suddenly 1 realized that I hail
been insane. 1 called the ki*eper. and
when he saw nic, he exclaimed: "Thank
(•oil!" and grasped my hand. 1 was
not long in putting on another suit of
clothes, and turning my face toward
home. A physician said that I was
cured, and everybody seemed bright
and happy at my recovery. 1 hoarded
a train with a gentleman, and went
home. My wife fainted when she saw
ine and learned that I ha I recovered
my mind. I asked for my little child
ten ami two big Isiya and a young lady
came forward and greeted me. i had
I icon In the asylum twelve years. -Cot
out I Wnklejf, fa Arkaiua* Trat+lfer.
Cloves remain \ery lung wriated.
! AMERICA* UIRLM AM) TITLE*.
I fifoi-tuuata Alllauru Hhli li mrr Mud*
Willi Alien**' .Ivlil'imii of I orflin
I'nila,
Writing from London to tin* I•
troit l'o*t, \V. A. ''rollut nay*: II I
felt free to nii'tition nuini-H i could
tell tales to wring th h*art, aliout
American girls who have married
English noblemen. In almost every
instance II proves fatal to the bride's
happiness. It isn't long since Lord
Flyllnger married the le-iress of an
American t'ncsus. There was a tre
mendous time about it. She was
en villi by all her marriageable cronies
and old <'ro*sus was congratulated on
the line alliance. He grinned with
self complacency and haride<l over
|l,. r iHto His I.ord.siiip I hunger
on the spot: Flyllnger t<>ok the wlf
and the money and brought them to
England, where he introduced her to
a few acquaintances arid then left hei
to shift for herself, while he trax elt
with relays of fast horses, races and
hunts, gambles and lives aw ild life *<i
the million and a half of money fur
which lie sold the shelter of bis title to
a bright, hoj>eful, ambitious American
girl.
Five or six years ago an American
girl whose name was on all lip?
married a rich Englishman, who had
the entree of high society in England
She was feasted, toasted, envied. I tut
she has slept in a s-a ial Cocoon evei
since, heartily wishing lier-elf home,
riot seeing for months sometime, th
husband, who loves to follow tin
hounds.
An American gentleman li % ing here
whose name would Is* recognized by
the reader if I were at liberty to men
tion it, told me yesterday "I liavr
been approaebed within a month by an
English lord, who may be a duke some
day, but whose fortune has !*•< om
greatly impaired by his dissipation
He ha- fixed his eye on an Anu-ricai
girl whom be has never seen. She ||
comparatively unedm ab*l and n<*t very
liright and fmrfully plain. Her n<**
is snub. Her mouth is large. Ifej
eyes are small and watery. Her
father is an Irishman. Hut lie is
worth at least f J'<o, This lord
wants me to bring alioiit a match
U-tween himself and this girl. I'd H*-*
him hanged first, for I kn**w what a
sa* rifles* of her it would 1
One other caac: There is a young
lady now in high society in America
her native laud, whose husband is an
English lord and whose father-in-law ii
a duke. She is )>cautiful,accimpli*hcd,
interesting, and she might have made
a good match in New York. Hut she
w anted a lord, and she g**t him. He
inherits! gambling fruin his mother,
the dm hess, and he gambles aw ay all
he ran get. lie is dissolute and un
scrupulous. she is neglected and
wretched. So she pay s long ximts to
her relatives m America. where she
an plunge into society an*l f**rget her
pitiful European experiment.
A City of the Dead.
Two miles from Mandan.on the bluffs
near the junction of the Heart and
Missouri rivers, is an old cemetery of
fully one hundred acres in extent.
Ailed with Imnes of a giant rare. This
vast city of the dead lies just east of
the Fort Lincoln road. We have just
spent a half day in exploring this
■ harnel house of a deal nation. The
gr*> ind has the appearance of having
l>een filhsl with trenches piled full of
de.ul Is sties, lsith man an I beast, and
covered with several ti*et of earth. In
many places mounds from eight to ten
feet high and some of them a hundred
ft or more in length have been
thrown up and are flllisl with Isines.
broken pottery, vases of various bright
colon*l flints and agates. The pottery
is of a dark material, Iteautifully deco
rate* L, delicate in finish, and as light as
wood, showing the work of a people
skilled in the arts and possessed of a
high state of civilization. Here is a
grand tleld for the student, who will
Is* richly repaid for his labors by exoa
\at ing and tunneling in these rata
comls of the dead. This has evident
ly l*on a grand battle-Held, when
thousands of men and horses have
fallen. Nothing like a systematic or
intelligent exploration has been made,
as only little holes two or three feet in
depth have lieen dug in some of the
mounds, hut many parts of the anato
my of man and beast, and licautiful
specimens of broken |*>ttery and other
curiosities have been found in these
feeble efforts at excavation. Who arr
they and from whence did they come,
dying and leaving • nly these crum
bling Imnes and broken fragments of
their works of art to mark the resting
place iif a dead nation? Five miles
almvc Mandan. on the opposite side of
the Misaourl, Is another xasl cemetery
as yet unexplored. We asked an aged
indian wluil his people knexv of these
sneient graveyard*. He aaswered;
"Me know nothing atiout thou They
were here liefore the reil ija "—Jfou
ifuii, Pakoto, I'ton*er.
The Keattil.
A oerrou* old gnntlruisn, tird of trade,
Br which, though it Mem*, he a lortuM had
made,
look a bouse 'twnt two ahnd*. on the akirM
of the town,
Which he niemit, at hi* letaure, tohojr and pull
down.
Thin thought struck bin mind aa ha viewed
hie oataie;
but ala*' when he entered he found it too
late.
For in em h dwelt a auiitb—a more hard-work
ing two
Never hernrnerw) an anvil or [ml on a aboe.
At eix in the morning, their anviie at work
Awoke rrur new '.Vjuire, who raged like a
'lurk
*Tb*e fellow*he c-ruyl, "aucb a clattering
keep,
I never can get above eight houi* of aleej,' '
Ilia afternoon'* nap and in* <langhter' new
mifig
Were battered and i[-oiled by ttieir hammer*'
ding dong'
At !at, both hi* heaith an 1 pirit* to improve,
ffe cried, "I'll give each fifty guineaa to
move
"Agreed,'' eni<] the |-air["that will make o*
amend*''
"Then come home, *ei 1 the .Squire, "an l iet
u* part Inenda.
Vou khail eat, and we'll drink on that joy I til
ore avion,
'That each mar hve long in L.- new habita
tion '
Now tell," ea,d the fvjuire. "where you each
mean to move *
I bo|ie to aorne place where hi* trade will im
prove''
" Wby vir." repllee one, w.th a grin on hi*
)il r
"Tom Forge move* to rny -hop, an J 1 mora
to hi*'"
rifl.KM I'AKU. lit I'll S.
The early bud 'at'he- the worm.
Speaking of the at'r ation- of ths
h'-av'-nlv l~ln-. there is no -i-in..t that
the sun is a tanner.
Th< single e\''glass is w-irn tv the
dude. The theory is that h<* ran -<-e
more with one eye than he < an '••iiijrt.
h'-ml.
The engaged cotijile is not tw.. s.iulj
with hut a singl" thought, as 1- gen
(•rally supposed. The thought -at
staying single never occurs t-i then
"Ah' I'm *addrwt when 1 ring,"
She aung in plaintive key.
And ail the neighbors y-doil—
"So are we' Som- wi-'"
"What is a col<>r guard, papa'r"th
good I*it ask'-l. "A parasol and a
veil, my son," and the boy silently
wondered what soldiers wanted with
such things.
A Western |i:tj>er announcesth- f.: ;
that an a-rohat turned a somersault •
a locomotive smokestack. This is
nothing. We know of an eng;r.-er wlia
turnisl on the steam,
Wlo-n one little loy runs away with
another little boy's tart, the proper ca
per for another little l ot to cut is t>
strike a stained glass attitmb and w tr
ble, "tiood-by, sweet-tart, good-by,"
"There is one thing connectsl with
your table." said a drummer to a West,
ern landlord, "that is not surpassed by
the ln-st hotels in ( Uicago." "Yes," re
pliisl the phased landlord: "and what
is that"The salt."
"You must bathe regularly." sai I a
physician, gravely, as he looked at the
patient's tongue and felt his pulse.
"Hut. doctor, 1 do," returned the s;rk
man, "I go in swimming regularly
every Fourth of .Inly."
Honored for Their Heed*.
A peasant was one day driving
sotne geese to a neighUiring town
where he lIOJHXI to sell them. He haj
a long stiek in his band, and to saj j
the truth, he did not tnat his flock <1
geese with much consideration. Id' 1
not blame him. however: he was anv.
loua to get to the market in tune tr I
make a profit, and not only geese huf
men must expect to suffer if they hin
der gain.
The geese, however, did not look on
the matter in this light, and happening
to meet a traveller walking along th# j
road they [mured forth their com
plaints against the peasant who w,u
driving them.
"Where ran you find geese more un
happy than we are? Ne how thif*
peasant is hurrying on this way and
that, and driving us just as though we
were only common geese. Ignorant
fellow as he \ he never thinks how
he is Isntnd to honor and respect us;
for we are the distinguished descend
ants of those very geese to whom Rome
onee owed it* salvation, so that a festi
val w as established in their honor."
••But for what do you expect to M** .
distinguished yourselves?" asked th# 1
traveller. *
"lte< ause our ancestors "
"Yes, 1 know; 1 have read all about
it What I want U> know is what
good have you yourselves done*"
"Why, our ancestors saved Rome."
"Yes, yes; hut what have you dona (
of the kind?"
"We? Nothing.''
••Of what good are you, then ? Do
leave your ancestors at peace. They
were honored for their deeds; but you,
my friends, are only fit for roasting."