The Horse and the Camel. Juve sat upon his throne of state Viewing his su jects o'er, Meeting our good or evil late As their various merits bore. A horse appr ached the august throne, With grave, re-pectful tread; And bowing low, with reverent tone, Jhus wo the King he said ; Groen futher of hoth beasts and men, Of creatures old and new, Meu suy that [un most beautiful, And | believe it true. Still there are changes I would have, My beauty to enhance; The gifts which I so humbly crave, Your grace will grant, perchance. What changes would you have my child Tell me, 1 wait to hear, The god thus spake, benignly smiled, And lent a gracious ear. + The horse began : More fleet were 1, With limbs wore long and slender; A swan-like ni k arched gracefully An added charm would render, A broader breast would give me strength And since thou hast decreed That I proud man should bear at length, A saddle 1s my need. Good | said the King, an instant wail, Then forth he stretched his hand — The lifeless dust grew animate, And moved «A his command. It quickly to a shape bad grown; Tue King pronounced it good, And suddenly before the throne The awkward camel stood | Here, cried the god, are longer legs, A swar-like neck you see, A natural saddle, broader breast— Shall I give these to thee ? The horse stood shuddering with disgust Go torth, said Jove, still kind Without your punishment, though just; But, that you bear in mind. The great presumption you have shown This creature new shall live; To him, hence orth as well as you, Continuing power 1 give, Thus do we sometimes ask for change, Our present good decrying, A power that sees beyond our range, Oft blesses in denying. THE LOVE OF HER LIFE. When Nellie Erle was a child she |. hs” : wi : | his having inherited the title became | used to often go into the portrait gallery where the ptetures of her an- cestors hung and pause vefore one, of a handsome young man in cavalier dress. The painting possessed a strange fascination for her, and as she grew toward womanhood she said to herself: The mao I marry must look like Lionel Erle. If she could have had her own way this might have happened, but her father, Sir Lionel, had made differ- ent plans for ber, and in spite of all opposition insisted that she should wed Lord Rookborough, a rich young nobleman, In vain did Nellie protest that she did not love him. Her father waot- ed to see her settled in life before he died and ipsisted that the marriage should take place. As the time ap- proached for her nuptials Nellie was miserable and took to wandering out alove in the park. It was during vue of these rambles that she sudden: ly came upon a young man leaning ugaiust a tree. As he turned she saw be looked exactly like the pict ure she had so much admired. I am afraid I am trespassing, he said. My name is Lionel Erle. Ifyou ure Miss Erle we are cousins. I did not know I had any cousios, Nellie faltered. Because your father and mine are at odus, he replied. You see, we are poor, with the shake ot the bead. I am only a bank clerk off for a holi- day and had the curiosity to take a peep bere. Then Ishall not see you again, said the girl sadly, loath to lose sight of ber ideal bero. He held out his band, Good-by, and was gone. The wedding festivities were such ss befitted Sir Lionel Erle's only child sod the Lord of Rookborough. The social lie of such a marriage, where the pride felt no love and the bride groom a more sincere regard for his wife's possessions than for herself, went to swell the measure of social lies, and no ope was horrified by it mve our poor little heroine, and she wished she had never been born, Bo the happy pair w the usucl shower of rice and slippers Years went slowly by to Nellie Ludy Rookborough, There were no | their marriage when news reached her that her husband was dead. He had been killed by the accidental discharge of a gun at Hurlingham, How ould she pretend grief at such an announcement? Her one feeling was that she had at last regained her freedom, and right glad was she lo deliver up tho burden of Rookbore ough ball to the next heir and go aud live with her widowed mother in the old home of her ancestors. Settled down there again as in her girlhood, free to roam as she would through the familiar rooms and long picture gallery, Nellie almost forgot the sad years of her marriage, and the thoughts and dreams of her youth came back to her, She felt again the happy, romantic girl of 16, as she gazed up at the pictured face that from her childbood had loved and worshipped. One day as she was meditating on that human likeness of this portrait and her once strange meeting with him, a thoguht suddenly flashed iuto her mivd, and she hurried off to Lady Erle's room, Mother, my cousin is Sir Lionel Erle now. Why does he not live here? It should be his now. Your poor father settled it upon you, Nellie, answered her mother. It was not entailed, fortunately. Nellie opened her eyes wondering- she ly. Her nature was romantic rather than practical; she understood little about the laws of property, and since her father's death, two years ago, had never once given a thought about what the heir ought to inherit, Her {cousin was almost more of a beauti- human form of rather than her father's successor the title. But now that the fact to of clear t¢ her, that should go with it she felt to be only right and justice. she said to her mother. He is Sir Lionel Erle, remember, and have the inheritance of his ancestors. You are as fanciful and romantic a8 when you were a girl, Nellie. is fortunate that your father has caused the whole property to be strict. alone. The will was made at the time of your marriage. cousin is my next heir. You and I will go and live in the dower house, mother, and I shall have Erle court given over to him at once. She spoke with #0 much determin- ation that Lady Erle had no argu- ment to bring forward. Nellie wrote The answer that came back was in this wise. Do not think that I do not appre- ciate your wonderful goodness, but I cannot accept your offer. As I told you the night we met long ago, I am proud. I make enough money by my books now to supply my wants, which are simple. So [ am not poor. After this decided refusal Nellie grew very preoccupied and unhappy. If I were a man and he a woman it would be easy to settle it, she would say to herself. I would ask her to marry me; but & woman must be dumb or the world is horrified. Mother ask our cousin to come and visit us; he will do that at all events, she said at last, 80 Lady Erle gave the invitation aod he came. : Nellie received him warmly, but as she looked up at his face the blush of ber first meeting with bim suffused her cheek again; he was older, graver, but the same clear eyes with their dreamy sweetness gazed into hers and reawakened the one passion of ber life That night she knew she loved him, and therefore she could never let him find it out, unless—ah, if he could love her. But whether be loved her or not no sign of more than the merest cousinly affection was manifested in Lionel during his short visit 10 Erle court. He was charmed with the beautifal home of his ancestors, and his poetic natare revealed in the an- cien¢ rooms and all the thoughts they called forth; but Nellie steadily avoid- had been gradually wasting away. the doctors were baffled, but for all that she seemed to be sinking rapidly out of life, [ am glad I am going to said to her mother, who sat by the sofa; it will set things right, and Lionel will have his lawful estate. Lady Erle's tears fell fast; her con. die, she science was reproving her now for many years of enmity against the in- nocent heir. Must his rights be only purchased by the death of her only child. Mother, said the invalid, after she had been laying quiet with closed eyes, just before I die, when there is no possible hope of my living, I want you to send for Lionel, that I may bid him good-by. Promise me, She promised amid her fast failing tears. A week afterward Sir Lionel received a telegram and io Erle a few There was no manifest disease, and | is a little shaky, I'll admit, won't care in the least, Thus urged, Hardy took up the | letter shumefacedly enough and read | it. There were only a few words, | First he Isughed, then swallowed sus. : piciously, and as he finished it threw but she | if troubled with dimness of vision. Pshaw, he said, if I had a Jove. let ter like that—and then he was silent, with an uneasy laugh, I'll read it to you, said their friend, seeing they made no move to take it and I think you'll agree with me that it's a model love-letter, And this is what it read: Mi owex DEER PAPA—I sa mi PRairs every nite annd Wen I kis yure Picture I ASK god to bless yoo gOO0d bi PaPa your best gurl, Dorvry, . For a moment or two the company hours he was standing by cousin's bed, Lady Earle left them; she knew that the parting was a sacred ooe. his dying ing to die I want to tell you something had lived. bed like a child. . i ful dream to her than a reality, the her pictured hero | the ancient state | It is not right that I shonld have all snd he nothing but the bare title, | Ii | 1 ly entailed on you and your heir Then since I have no children my | to her cousin by that night's post. Nellie, live! I love you so ! ! y : She touched his bowed | she could not speak. head, but | He seized the fragile han and cov- | | ered it with kisses and tears. | Oh, my darling, live! live! I have so loved you all these | years ! | Nellie lay like one trance, death to claim in a Had love come her I Presently she aid in a faint voice : I never imagined you loved me. Pride has been my curse, he groan- If you had only been poor long | ago I would have poured out all my poor, and I knew your generous na- | ture would have accepted me to make | me rich. Not for that, but | you, { loved you. because I love Lionel—because [ have always He raised his bowed head and look- | ed into her face. Nellie, if I had cried despairingly. only known! he I shall live now she whispered, and her eyes closed in gentle sleep. - THE DRUMMER'S BEST GIRL He hurried up to the office as soon as he entered the hotel, and, without waiting to register, inquired eagerly: Any letter for me? The clerk sorted over a package with the negligent attention that comes of practice, then flipped one—a very small one—on the counter, The traveling man took it with a curious smile that twisted his pleasant Looking face into a mask of expectan. ey. He smiled more as be read it. Then: oblivious of other travelers who jostled him, he laid it tenderly against his lips snd Kissed it. A loud guffaw startled him. Now look bere, old fellow, said a loud voice. that won't do, you know, Too spooney for anything. Confess, now, your wife didn't write that letter: No, she didn’t, said the traveling man, with an amazed look, as if he would like to change the subject, That letter is from my best girl. The admission was #0 unexpected that the trio of friends who caught him said no more until after they had eaten a good dinner and were seated together in a chum's room. They then began to badger him. It's no use, you've got to read it to us, Dick, said one of them; we want to know all about your best girl, Bo you shall, said Dick, with great coolness: I will give you the letter and you oan read it yourselves. There it is, and he laid it open on the table. I guess not, said one who had been loudest in demanding it; we like to chaff a little, but I hope we mie geatlemen, The young lady wonld hardly care to have her letter read by this crowd, and he looked his friend reproachfully. Bat I insist upon it, was the answer. There is nothing in it to be which I never should have told if 1| The young man flung himself on | his knees beside the bed, laid his head | down upon his folded arms and sob- | For my sake | heavenly | instead of | . heart to you; but you were rich and I | should | ’ ’ | remained silent, while the little letter | passed from band to band, and you | would have said every one had hay | | fever by the snuffling that was heard. | Nellie held out her thin white hand. | Lionel, she said, now that I am go- | Then dardy jumped to his feet: | Three cheers for Dolly and three | cheers more tor Dick's best girl. They were given with a will.—D¢- { troil Free Press. p——i— JUDGE WALTER T. WLQUITT Judge Colquitt was a young man wonderful versatile of was a superior and profund lawyer, a alent, | popular andjunsurpassed stump orator | and a very eloquent and instructive i " | preacher. On one occasion an Eng lish nobleman was traveling | this couniry, and made some stay in Court session, ard the Eoglishman was cur- through | Columbus, Superior Was in | lous Lo bow our courts were condue!- A and J udge Colquitt was, as usual, in the He made 1 , " $4 | speech, and for two hours he thrilled {ed, so he went to the court house. | murder trial was io progress, | defense. the concluding | the Court, jurors aud spectators with 1 ne | | lishman was charmed, and bad many his burning eloquence. Eng- juestions 10 ask about the eloquent | orator, aud sought his acquaintacee, Ou next day the Englishman learn. to be a political meeting that night at Temperance Hall. Being carious to know some thing of the political methods America he decided to attend. ed thal there was in The meeting was organized by a chair man and secretary, and Judge Col- He ae cended the platform with a grace pe- quilt was called for a speech. culiar to himself and entertaived the large audience both by argument and anecdote, and all were much interest ed nod often convulsed wita laugh ter. Politics was the Judge's grea forte, and gave him bis United Siates Senate, On the succeeding Sabbath the Eogl'sh attended services at the Methodist church, and as the regular pastor was absent at conference, Judge Colquitt filled the palpit. His text was: “What is Truth?” and language fails to convey any adequate idea of that sermon. The Euglish. man was profoundly astonished, and exclaimed to a friend: “Are the Americans all lawyers, all politicians and all preachers! If that man was in Eoglaod, we would make him lord Chancelor.— Hamilton Journal, - A SOCIABLE RURAL VIRGINIAN, fame in the Ove morning just before the war, as my train drew up at Brandy Station, a chap in a butternut suit and a home- made wool bat rushed up and address ed me as I stepped to the ground: Is you th'r clerk er this ye'r kyar? I'm the conductor; what do you want! I answered, I wan'ter go to Washiotun on this ye'r kyar, Well, get aboard, I said. He climed the steps and rapped on the door. When be rapped the sec- ond time some wag inside called out, Come in? There were at least fifty passengers in the car. He hegan at the front sest, shaking hands wih everyone clear to the back end, and asking each, How d’yr do? and then How's ye'r folks? Of course it was a regular circus for the other passengers, Hoe lived forty miles in the country and bad never seen a train before, When he stepped off the car here in Washington 1 felt sorry for him, but will you believe it, that greenhorn is to-day one of the first merchants of Washington aod is reported to be | it on the table again and rubbed the | | Fair play! eried oneJof the others, | He | A MAN UPA TREE. Many thrilling secounts are told by | veterans of the annoyance caused our | forces, throughout the army by rebel sharpshooters hanging on the wkirts encampments duriog the late war. Early on the morning of the——a back of bis hand across his eyes as! swirmish live, composed mainly of the Forty eighth Illinois, was thrown out in advance of our army, lying near Jackson, Mississipi, confrenting General Joseph Johnson, The men [bad coostracted a few temporary | shelters by stand rails upright, lean. ing against each other, the tops being | bound together. Behind one of these little fortresses ~=through in a rather exposed | tion—Captain F. D. Stephenson, of | the Forty-eighth was sitting on a turn. |ed-up bucket, taking his morning | coffee. As he threw back his head in | drinking, a whiz was heard and a ' ball sped by within half an ioeh of | his face, directly across the eyes, tak- iag effect in a little dogwood tree be- side him. The captain rose quietly and taking {a ramrod stuck it in the ground {that its top would be in the space lately occupied by his nose; he then the sighted | from his ballet-hole over the top of went behind tree aud the rod, thus ascertaining the direc- ball its flight i : : . . { Directly in this line rose the top of : " | tion taken by the in a large oak, with great sheets and streamers of southern moss banging dependent from its boughs, Boys said Stephenson, evenly, our that man is among the branches on tree yonder, Now taking a cap and placing it on the end of a knotted stick, you all load ap and lie When | this will ggain, low. shove hat into view, he fire There's your chance let drive. ; When all was ready he slowly ele vated the cap until just fo sight from the tree. from | i { A puff of white smoke burst | {its leaves and the cap turned round the | on its stick support, letting day- { light through s large {ils Crown. jagged hole in | A moment later, six Springfield | rifles spoke from the rail pile aod = | man dropped from the oak tree, clutch | ing wildly at moss aud brasches as he fell. His last shot was fired. — a — SHE WANTED PAPA A lady io the street met a little girl between two and three years old evidently lost and crying bitterly. The lady took the baby’s hand and going. to find my papa, was the sobbing reply What is your papa’s name? asked the lady. His name is papa. Bu what is his other name! What de your mamma call him? She calls him papa, persisted the little creature. The lady then tried to lead her along. You had better come with me. I guess you came this way, Yes, but | don’t want to go back. I want to find my papa, replied the little girl asked where the was Down crying afresh as if her heart would break. What do you want with your papa? asked the lady. I want to kiss him. Jost at this time a sister of the child, who bad been searching for her, cime along and Look possession of the little ranaway. From inquiry it ap. peared that the little one's pajs whom she was so earnestly seeking’ had recently died, and she tired of waiting for him to come bome, had gone to find him.— Cleveland Herald Can't you say something pleasant to me ! said a husband to his wife, as he was about to start for the office They bad a little quarrel and he was willing to “make up.” Ah, John responded the penitent lady, throwing her arms around his neck; “forgive my foolishness. We were both wroog And don't forget the baby's shoes, dear, and the ton of coal, and we are out of potatoes; aud, Joho, love, you must leave me some money for the gas man.” WHAT IS FAME. Der ain't no use tryin’ a square shake in dissher country, said a tough looking young man. What's de matter, p'lesce outo you again ? Naw. But I und'stan Jimmy de Bruiser's got twice’ as big a phorty graph in the rogue’s gallery as I have, Auybody knows I stand higher in de prossion dan he does.— Washington HE COULDN'T BTAND THAT. Hello, it's 11 o'clock | remarked a traveling man as he set down the glass, guess I'll go home, What's the matter? Afraid «f | your wife? You bet I am. What does she do when you're ou late, call her mother ? Naw. Her our house, mother dou't live at Does she mount guard with a roll- ing pin? No, she don't, What does she do then ? Well, gentlemen, she just kicks a posi- | soldier's | Little and then she up and cries, | Good night; I'm in a hurry. Mer. | chant Traveler. - A Wire's Brearecy.—My dear, said a young wife 10 her husband, who had already fallen into the habit of going to the lodge in the evening, and who was just preparing to go out, I am going up street to interview the superintendent Ah ness, pray? if the post office this evening. ! indeed; on what busi~ I want to see if he can give me any advice in regard to getting a habit ally late male in on time, The was looking for a vewspaper in husband bl ushed, pretended he | stead of his bat, and there was a mens m the lode | ber absent fs e that night, - SHE KNEW THE MEN Are you still i Yours lugging at away those gloves xr . 1es dear, You know it dis waikis Eg ihr making vour toilet Does it, dear ? Why, do you kvow that | just as soon see you pulling on ~=sioChiogs on the sireel as gloves | Most men would, was all and be had nothing else to say. 1 18, but if he were ne olhwer object we wu 3: i not se that cident might not t is pieasant to read that “sex : “young protect r been sold ons that its " to bring ont an- «ting 10¢ more, which will a ball sixty feet with the greatest racy.” This beautiful instrument is oniv four inches long, and might be mis- taken by the uninitiated for a Derringer. It is a comfort to think that every meets may have one of these weapons in his pocket. But the nicest of all playthings for children that has come under our notice is a “powerful six-chamber revolver,” which can be ob tained at a certain toy shop for $1.15 Like the other pistols that we have no- ticed, 1t has the advantage of being with- out any guard for the trigger. A papa with a revolver is not invariab- ly a very safe person, but a boy, of course, always is. Children whose par- ents object to their using fircarms may console themselves by buying al a well- known toy shop & sword cane having “all the ap, © 41 an ordinary walking. stick, the sword being inside the stick,” for 20 eta. By the way, we wonder if there is any shop now where birch rods are sold. 8 GAKCTR ot her boy one The English Skylark, uf The lark is, probably, if the whole truth were told, at first rather a disap- pointment to most Americans, who not unnaturally expect from “the bird that singe at Heaven's gate” a song of great var ety and volume, il Was in Sussex many years upon he cliffs overlooking pi bo the-Sea, that we first made his acguaint- ance. It was early morning, clear and calm after a night of storm, which had bron ght Bo Nrotks on shore within LJ
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers