a THE CAPTAIN'S | WIFE. The right wing of Sherman's army and come down, I'll see that you are tre ‘ated well, “Thaoks. Hada’ you beter lay ‘was only wt w miles from Blue Rock, down your weapon aod march over a mountain village in Georgia. The simple villagers felt little alarm, Bue Rock was the point of po strategic boportance to either the Federals or the Confederates, One fine morning in the early soring John Dickinson started out from the little hamlet to visit his farm only a mile or two distant. Dickin- #on was a young man, but a chrouie | lameness had secured his exemption from military s>rvice and as he had a wife and two children entirely depend: eat upon him. he regarded his dis- ability a8 a blessing. Still, he wus a strong Confederate, a id on this particular morning, while he wes limping slowly along the sough country road, he paused more than once to listen with a frowning | face to the sul'en boom of Sherman's gun, several miles away. [ am not able to do much fighting, he muttered, but if they come to Blue: R ck and cot up any I'll kill some of them if I nave to die for it ! He meaut what he said. This gaiet young farmer bad plenty of grit when he was put to the test. The walk tired him and he left the road and stretched himself on a grassy place under the shade of a sturdy old osk. He threw himself on his back and closed his eyes for & moment. * Then he looked up into the green fuliage above him, A queer expression flitted over his face, but his gaze remained fixed upon one point. Toa way he raised his hand to his face, and stroked his mustache. Then the hand wandered down over his vest toyiag with each button. At last it slipped downward to a hip pocket, and reappeared aa quick as a flash of lightening, this time with a pistol aimed upward. careless Now, you come down, said Dickson grofily. Ha! ba! laughed some one up in the tree. Yoo have found me, bave you? The laugh surprised and irritated Dickson. His keen eyes had discov. tiog on one of the topmost limbs of a tree. It had flashed that it would be an easy captare him, and march Blue Rock. And now was laughing at him ! You'll grin on the wrong side o into his head him the your mouth pretty soon, said Dickson: I mean husivess that you are my prisoner ? Well, no, was tue cool reply, I bad’ut thought of it in that light. Ta fact, I was under the impression thet you were my prisooer, and I was won dering how to dispose of you. Confound you ! roared the young farmer. If you don’t come down at once I'll shoot ! See here, my friend, answered the soldier, you don’t understana the sit. sation. 0, I don't! shouted Dickson. No, where are your eyes 7 Take a good look, bat don’t move, Thus appealed to, Dickson allowed his eyes to run over the soldiers entire Sgure. He gave a start of surprise: The Federal held in his right band a revolver aimed at the man on the ground. { have had you covered ever since yeu came bere, said the man ia the tree. And what did you think of dulag ? seked Dickson in a tantalizing way. I am going to shoot if you try to get up, or if you cock your pistol was the response; but [ expect to per- susde you to drop your weapon and go off to the top of that hill yonder, You are « fool ! shouted Dickson. Don’t you kaow that somebody from towa will come along aod help me eaplure you ! And doo'v you konow, replied the other, that some of our cavalry are coming this way, snd may be here any moment 7 Dickson studied the face above him. It was a dark, clear-cut, hand some face, very youthfal and pleasant in its expression, Why, you ate a boy, ala't you? was bis next question as he took In the lithe willuwy form. Never mind what I am; my ry Sse fesutisfied with ime, and that is how You hal better drop your pistol rascal | Don’t you ow | that hill, nod go home to your wife not particularly anxious w have! Gur boys come along aod capture. ou,” The frank and fourldyn eyes look- ing into Dickson's had a" Kind loo and the angry farmer found that his wrath was gradually melting, After all, he thought: there would be little glory in capturing. this boy. soldier. | Aud then the fellow's story might be true If ibe. were Qoming in that direction it was time for good Confederates to hie out. * What are you doing bere, anyhow? he ask.d. I sipped in Blue Rock Isst night, was the answer, and some of your people chased me oul, My horse was shot and I had to take to the ‘woods. ! cavalry came along. Ll tell you what I’tk do; broke in Didksdn, 1 doo’¢ much pagtio take you prisouer, and I ‘don’t want to shoot you, Oa the other hand, I'll sdait that I have no fancy for being shot myself. But I'm vot going 0 throw dewa my. pistol, Lowill get up abd go to tdwn sod whe Four erowd comas, if it come at. ‘all: “you may expect a hot reception if you are not too many lor us. There was a. pause for a moment, snd then. the soldier in the tree spoke. All right, I'll trust you, he said. Go ahead and I'll take no advantage of you, Bat you may expect to see me in Blue Rock, before night. We'll take care of Blue Rock, de fiantly responded Dickson. Well, I'm off.” Good-bye! And he rose to his feet, and walk- (ed off as briskly as he could. He scorned to look back. Ifthe federal was mean enough to break his word and fire, it was all right. Bet his heart bumped against his ribs until be had placed 100 yards between him and the tree. When the blue jackets swarmed into the village that afternoon the score or two of male inhabilants saw | that resistance was useless against {such a foree. ered a fellow with a blue uniform sit. | The capisin sent me (0 guard yoru property, said a soldier, ashe paused lin front of Dickson's door. malter to | into | I am obliged to him replied Dick- son but I dou't see why. The men went on duty, sad the little family passed the night uodis- turbed, and with the feeling that they were securely protected. The captain requests you to come | to bis head quarters. This message made Dickson a ittle nervous whea it was delivered to him the next morning. His wife could not conceaz her alarm. There is nothiog wroag, the messenger assured her. The captain merely desires to see your husband a moment. There was nothiog to do but to go. Dickson quieted his wife, sad pro ceeded to the dwelling indicated to him as the eaptaing headqoarters, Glad to see you, Me, Dickson, the captain remarked wtih. a pecalias smile, My wife wishes to thaok you for your courteous and sensible con duct yester-day. Your wife! exclaimed the farmer, And then he saw what had escaped his notice, that there was » lady in the room. A very charming little lady, Dickson thought. She looked fresh sud bright in ber simple travel ing dress, and her curly, hair cut short like a boy's gave her a rougish look. The lady's face was strangely *| familar, and when the astonished Confederate gazed into her eyes he recognized her. You were the soldier in the tree he cried. Tho same admitted the captain's wife with » laugh. You seo, exclaimed the osptain, my wife would come down 10 see me soldier's uniform. She is a headstrong little thing, sad I have to yield, but but after her adventure of yesterday I have persuaded her to retura home, War is a bud thing, my friend, if the at home, His hosts were in such a jolly, good humor that it was conta. fal hisf hour. { I climed up here to be safe until our in camp, sod she would wear a | gious sod the visitor spent a delight- i The Federals did not hold Blue] | Rook ong: ver off wich the main body y but before they i a bd ta oo ‘adventurous wife had pped home by her husband. Queer things happen in war: times, | wily Dito, 's o0tmient on thd affdlr | whew he spoke of it afterward to his wonder the captain's wife didn’t cap. tore me and masch me off. She is a doisy, if tdere ever was one!— (AL lontie Constitution. A CIRCUS IN HIMSELF. A middle-aged man, face bore the imprint of hat grest house: hold virtue, patience, leading a little boy by the hand, ‘elbowed his way through & crowd af & circus. We'll sit here Jimmie, where we can see everything, anid be. Now we are all night, The boy gazed in astonishment at the vast crowd, remained silent for a few moments then said : Papa, papa. Well ? : When will the showman come ? . After a while. Do them men gver there with the borns belong to the show ? Oh, yes. Au’ does thay’ man standin’ there by that pole own the show ? No; (hat's & town marshal. { Wat's « town marshal ? A man that arrests people. How arrests them ? Puts them in jail. Will he put you in jail} 0, no Why ! Because I haven't dose anything. How done saything ? Why I haven't been bad. But you could knock him down if he tried to put yeu in jail, couldn’ you ? I suppose so. And then he'd Jet you wouldn't be ? I think so. The band struck up, and the per- formance began. The boy becoming all eyes for a time lost his tongue. There's the clown said the father, but the next moment regretted having said anything, for the boy wanted to know what was a clown? Why, be's the man that makes the people laugh. Will he make you laugh ? Well, I think not. Why ? Because I have seen him so often. Will he make me laugh ? I think so. Why! Hush, now, and look at the formance. What's the performance ? The acting. What's the acting ? Whaat the actors do ia the riog. What's the ring ? That er—that round place out there. Look at the lady on the horse, Does mamma ride that way ? Of course not. What do you .aean? Last night when you came home, you told ber every time you stayed out lage he got on a high horse. whr Joking. What's joking ? For goodness sakg, hush. See, all those people aro looking at you. What for ! 0, I don’t know. Why ? Listen now. sing. What for 7 Hush | Why! If you don’t hush I'll take you home. A few moments of siience followed. Oune of the clowns said something, the audience roared and the boy, turning to his father, asked why the people Inughed. Laughing at what the clown said. What did he say ? I don't know. Woat mae you laugh, thea 7 Hash ! Why! What is the man saying? Anvounciog the coucert. What's the concert? A show, This show? No. Another show? Ah, bab. alone, per- The clown's goiog 0 i aA 3 friends, sod tell "1" yoli it is a} “out ag | When? My gracious alivel if you dou’ hush I'll take you home. You are worse than the nettle rash! What's the nettle rash? IVe=ig's—oli, I dou’t know! ©! Whig mide yousdy I am worse than it thenf “Are you going to hush? glaring al the boy. Yes, sir. Well, see that you do, now. ‘After a short silence the boy broke ain concerning the man who sold song-bowks. What does be want to sell thém fort ‘For money. To buy Shady. with? Has be got I don't Know. Why! Bb Great Fad! Diden't I tell you &« bush? Whe i» Caesar? A man. | Hush! A showman? Ab, hah, sbetractedly. Could be jump over a horse? Yes, musingly: Did you know him? Ab, ba. Did you ever see him? Yes. Does mamma know him? Koow who! arousing himself. Cesar. No.po. What are you talking aboot? Do you like him? Come on, now; we are going home. What tor? Theshow is over. Are you going to stay for the con- cert! some one asked. Not if I can help it, the father re plied. Shortly afterward a perspiriog mao boys? have been seen walking across a lot. The man sighed deeply, and the boy | asked: What made you do that? — WW A—— JUST LIKE A STORY. threw down the paper she had been reading be or as they would like to bave them Nothing ever happens tue real world as it is pictured in paper-and-ink world. in out failures. The bard-bearted parents relent, the rich uncle the lost letter, or ring, or bracelet, is always dies, poor clerk, without experience aod in less thao a year is rich sad independ- ent with ao offer of a junior partuer, ship sad the band of the daughter of the house in the mear future raw country heroine, either makes ber edugation, or trainiog, mind you and becomes famous n'a night. If a heroine's lives mre east in unpleasant theres always a recompense, ag ift certain. We found it 00 J the real world, Mable. Perbaps because we were not hero, ines, Bertie, replied ber sister. Then let us become heroines as soon as possible, exclaimed Bertie. I do could happen to ue just like a story. poetic justice that is pictured out in the literature of the day. But there isn’t ay of it in the real world about us. Take your own case, she added, you have worked and stroggled to keep the home for us both—that noisy, stufly school by day aad your Do 1 not know writiog by night. why your light baros so late? but poems are a drug in the market. Five years since we wore left orphans ; away our heme, I have done some good work in these five years, Bertie. (Queen Mab, if you had received better man, leading a hang-back hoy, might | Ob ! dear, and Bertha Manning | Why caonot people write | things as they are, not as they ought to | the | In that there | are no lasting disappointments and no | found; the needy bero begins life a | The sppearsace in the society of city's elile, which she takes by storm, or she becomes literary, writes some poem, or song or story, without preparation, have not wish that once, just once, something All T want is justice, a little of the glancing over at her sister; see Low you have done this, and to what end. You bave supported us both, bet your health and strength are broken ; the mortgage which we have no means of payiag falls dus next week, and the fomilized old bumbug who holds it, thinks to force you into a marriage with his ondesirable self by taking It would have been just as good, pay for it. No, Mab, there is little of the recompense we read of comes into real life, The real stories are the ones that do vot ebd wall, aud vii. itors will uot take them. Think of Aunt Max now. more lovable woman in the world thao Aunt Nax? And just sce what her life bas been, Bhe loved Geraia Harding, bat becacse of a lost letter, | or some such trifls, and he out of revenge, married that brain: | les flyaway, Bess Halton, sud = sweet time he had of it, too, What a | ife she lead him, through her jealousy they parted, ton accotot of his former attechment | ¢ : ‘ {until she took her two children sud { rau away, for no other resson that | © yuld ever see but that sha might fol- IW Us oul | Max by her presence. Hush, Bertie, she is dead! And small loss, too, Mab, , Muble. Ler could sce why, Suit Dicaing 8 per- don't look so horrified I vevw- (son has gous over beyoud, they gized and praised, aod leounted faultless, when all their lives | they had made people they | i mist ha eulog as miserable could, sad thing they ever and they wouldn't | have done that if the have | avoided it. {und unbappy as | when, too, the best did was to die, could Then Gerald's death with thas par- of excursionists almost the same | day that she was killed io a railroad | collision, leaving ty three children peo- nyless orphans jin the place where no one knew even the pames of the litle waifs. | Geraid’s death was what we might | eall poetic justicn, in one sepse, Ber- ithe. lt enabled Aunt Max to take | the children, with no fear that soy one would think she did it to bring { him back to her. Bhe is poor, and {obliged to work bard for their sup- | port, but careing for them bas been | suc bh a comiort for ber, Poor mamma tld me onee that | aunt had pever been the same since | she read his name among the killed in | that terrible disaster. How she must have loved him ! is not quite forty aod the ber hair is Dear Aunt Max! 1 | won ler if she kn ows how pear a saint [she is. What s pathetic story her life would make. Why dou't you write it, Bertha ? | white as soow, | am sure vou could. b h Not | please you, I'd do suvthis Mal N but I ca ot do that, I couldn’ write the unreal romaocces of the day, besides, I think it | right wicked. I should write the bare | facts, the naked truth; my | would be just is down- stories ns iL is io real life, and well. No editor cpt them. A bird in the | hand is worth two in the bush, even if the ove in the hand be only a 1'ttle bit of embroidery, very poorly paid for. Besides, Mable, your experience in that line is sufficient to defer me. I have never written prose, you know, Bertie. My loclioation does pot run in that grove. Bat I shall give up writing. I must tll I get stronger. It must be that or the school, and [ dare not give up the school. I do bate to, do so Bertie, for it bas been such a comfort to me. Ob Mab, it makes me just wild, wild, 10 see you growing so thin and pale. I have been so little help to you wo. It will be better for you to rest more; only for that I could not bear to let you give it up, even for a» little while. It will not be for always I feel sure of that. You have an io- visible demon that sits on your shoulder and goads you on, Next morning when the girls met at the breakfust-table it was Bertie who was bhollow-eyed, they would'nt end would aco Queen Mab, I thought it would be. Your iovisible demon perched upon my chair last night asd tortar- result, and she laid a roll of manu- script in ber sister's Jap. It proved to be a story, or sketoh, rather; pearing the title “Saint Max.” Mabel felt ber eyes grow wet as she The old familiar places rwe before her mental vision, the easier home that they had loved so well, for Bertie had poured all her homesick soul into | quiet viliage where Gerald Harding had first wou the love of Baint Max, Why don't you address the editor by name, Berue asked Mabel, glase. ing at the envelope. 1 don't know his name. I've never soon A COpY Kw wigs be Jutta, Ra It doesent antter, Mab, be will i WO | | right away. he 1! He suid inere wan a reward of West and anooy Auot | be | about the age, of his, | that eolimwive, : | r 0 help, or | | Your light was out early last might, | place read the truthfol and pathetic lines. | | those few paragraphs, describing the | i RA—————————————— HE ——— vot aceept it. 1 ay" wod dove wai vn Neverrael €or bie work was Was | out she began (oh han the | eutoffice, there ever a sweeter, purer, better, or | She came dacs | aoraio ming bv in ork of these ex= Hava, her whole form Sremhiy LA Mement Oh, Mab! (hed, throwing 8 check for vue pundrsd dollars jot | her sister's la; | ve seen hibin, © that editor, | mes ; we esme nimself, You's ever guess who i Ld one hundred (doilurs offered some time ago for ihe very wilorwetion 1 sent him in thet skewch. © He doesa’s wan's Lo really priut it becausewbe- Leause Saint Max is alive, snd 80 ie Itis Gerad Hardiog hiousel he | wasn’ killed witn the excursiomists, and he didu’s know that his children There | | were alive; ho bad ndvertised for them 'sod offered a reward, but be could bear nothing, x xcepy that two children whose names coud not be learued, were killed in He's real rich, 00 for an eduor—and be's gooe right over 10 see Anot Max pow, Aren't you gind, Queen Mab! cod was there ever anyiaiagw siraoge in the whole wide world? He's coming bere by _ sod by is renew bis scqesiatance with you. len'v it delighefal? You see be recognized Aver Max sod all of us from the skeich, and knew {once thot it must be trae, Aud something has happened to us | just like & story, basu't it, Betie? Wh , to be sure! Queer ina’s is, 1 hadn't thought of thet at ali? sens A AI—— isis LADY JURORS A CENTURY HENCE. First Lady Juror—There seems to be no dou that the prisoner murder- ed hus wife. Becond Lady Juror—Yes ie’at he bsndsome ? Third Lady Jurors—The poor fel. be low hasn't had s single bouquet sent 0 bim to-day. Fourth Lady Juror—But you know the Isdies weren's sure be was guilty, Fifth Lady Juror—Of course not; they didn't bear half the evidence. Sixth Lady Juror—If we bring bim guilty what will they do ? Seventh Lady Joror— Hang bim. Chorus— Horrors ! Eigth Lady Juror—Why oot sy the second degree ? Niuth Lady Juror—Then they'd | imprison the poor maa for life. Chorus— Horrors ! Tenth Lady Juror—It wont dc to bring him guilty at sll, Fleventh Lady Juror—I'm afraid § not. Twelfth Lady Jaror—Of course pot. Ifheis locked op we can't marry him. — Omaha World. ————— a ———————— Tang veiodty of light has been determ. ined by an Sea ifcong sdopted by Fizean, counssting of a toothed wheel which may be made to revolve with great raph uty. A ray of light is made 0 pass throngh one of the intervals between the tevth, and to fall upon a reflecting mirror placed at a distance in such a manner that when the wheel in at rest the ray A vaxaoen who of the horses of 8 tr equal weightsof hay an fitoaw thoroughly moistened. to remember and act upon (+ and chiens who have of straw, i Hid i i 0 2 Beit i : Hd] I: Hn taini i the whose io she sunshi 5 od me into wakefulness. This is the | 5: will ‘expert a fine A giaoe of carmine or lake will produce a rosewotd finish. A tarpentine extract of ward before that Then it began move wipro et? IKK Niven the ah reached, This is now be. ne se minished, will ps J point due B north, wh. Stim 4 Thovsijem says that the wll have heen obwerved eg yh the direvtion. Tost in thamtatativol thewatiis
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