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airAdvrettsing In an eases exclude* Of sub
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• Administrators and Executors Notices. re:
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All resolutions of assoclatinns; rommuttleations
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riages and desths will be published withoutcharge.
nos Ravi:saran having a larger circulation than
any other paper In the county, makes it the best
advertising medium In Northern Pennsylvania.
JOB PRINTING of - every kind, in plain and
fancy colors, done with neatness and dispatch.
Handbill', Blanks, Cards,. Pamphlets. Blilheads,
-
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13:siness §arbs:
JOHN W. CODDINO,
•
ATTOENEv-A74,...w, TOWANDA, PA.
Orrice over Mason's old Bank
rrHOMAS E.i 14410 E R
Arrourczy:AT4.tw,
•
TOWASDA, FA.
Office with Patrick and Foyle. fiep.25,19
pEcs & OVERTON
ATTOIINZTS,CI , LAW,.
TOWANDA, PA.
D.A. OVISITTON,
RODNEY A. MERCUR,
ATTORNEI AT-LAW,
TOirANBA, PA.,
'Solicitor of Patents.' Particular attention paid
roshushiess in the Orphans Court and to the settle
ment of estates.
Office in Montanyes Block
OVERTON & SANDERSON,
ArionNIT.Y-Ar-LAw,
TOWANI)A, PA. •
JOHN F. BANDKESON
E. OVERTON; JR
TAT H. JESSUP,
1 1 1 ( •
ATTOUNEY AND COUNSELLOR-AT•LAW,
31ONTROSE. PA.
Judge Jessup having resumed the practiceof the
law in Northern reunsylvanta, will attend to any
legal business Intrusted whim In Bradford county._
Persons wishing Ito consult him, can call on 'H.
Strecter,.E.N., Towanda, Pa., when an a ppol ntmen I
can be made.
•
i _ENRY STREETER,
ATTOUNILY AND CIIbXSELLOII-Al-LAW,
TOWAtiDA, PL. -
Feb 27, *79
HL. TOWNER, M. .D .;
•
HOSIROPATHIC PHYSICIAN AND SURGEON. ,
RS. Residence and Office Just-North of Dr. Cor
bin's, on Main Street, Athens, Pa. jun2o-601.
E. L. HILLIS,
ATTOR?itT-AT-LAW,
TOWA 4 iDA, PA.
E F. GOF',
• ATT,on4,AT_LAW,
WI 4 ALLiSING, PA.
Agesicy for the sale and: purchase of all kinds 0 ,
Securities and for making loans on Real Estate
All business will receive careful and proom
attention; - ' (June 4. ISM
H 'THOMPSON, ATTORNEY
• vr LAW, WYALUSING, PA. Will attend
to all business entrusted' to his care In Bradford,
dull i ivan and Wyoming Counties. Odlce with Esq.
T.orter. (novl9-74.
E. 11. ANGLE, D. D. S
OPERATIVE AND MECHANICAL DENTIST
office on State Street, second floor of Dr. Pratt's
Office. apr 3 79.
ELSBREE & SON,
'ATTORNEYS-AT-LAW,
TOWANDA, PA. '
N. C. ELSBREE
KINNEY,
ATTORNEY-AT-LAW.
Office—Rooms formerly occupied by Y. M. C. A
Reading Room. Oan.al`7B.
I!
31cPHERSON,
A TTORN EY-AT-L AW,
TOWANDA, rA.
Dis•e Att'y Brad. Co. ,
TOIIN W. MIX,
ATTORNYT•AT-LAW AND U. B. COMMISSIONYi
• TOWANDA, PA.
Office—North Side Public likinare.
.Tan.T, 1811
SAM W. BUCK,
ATTORNEY-AT-LAN,
TOW ANDA, PENA' A
°Mee—South side Poplar street, opposite Ward
[Nov. 13, 1879.
DAVIES Az, CARNOCHAN,
ATTORIC %TS-AT-LAW,
SOUTH SIDE OF (WART) HOUSE.
Dec :3-75. TOWANDA, PA,
T ANDREW WILT,
•
ATTORNEY-AT-LAW
Office over Turner & Gordon's Drug Store
Towanda, pa. May be consulted In German.
[April 12; '76.3
W. J. YOTTA4
ATTORNEY-IT-LAW,
TOWANDA., PA.
Office—second door snuff] of the First Nat!onal
Bank Main St., up stairs.
WILLIAMS dr, ANGLE,
ATTORNEYS-AT-LAW
OFFIC E.—Formerly occupied by Wm. Watkins,
Esq.
11. LLiAI N. ()i.t. 17, 77) Y. J. ANGLE.
'WM. MAXWEL4„,
Arrortn i air-al.Law
TOW ANDA,i PA.
Office over Dayton's Store.
Aprlll2. 1876.
MADILL & CALI} 4 }7,
ASTORNETS-.P.T•LAW,
TOWAN'OA, PA
DMre In Wadi's Block, first doorsontS of the First
Nazi, Is: hank, up-stairs. . .
EL .1. .!A.DILL. (Jana-11131_ 1 J. N. CALIFF6
.
flit. S. M. 'WOODBURN, Physi
elan and Surgeon. Ocoee over 0. A. Black , .
C rot: ter v store. .
Towanda, May .1, 18721 y..
Avß. KELLY, DENTIST.—Cftice
over M. E. Rosenfield's, Towanda, Pa.
Teatll - Inserted ou tiold,.tillver, Rubber, and Al-
Inutum base. Teeth extracted without tkaln.
Oct. 344'2.
D PA/ "Nl.' M D '
,E. D. --- . -
Pirrstrists AND StiP.GT.O`5.
4 c:lllce over Montanyes• Store. Ordce hours from 10
tol2 A. M. and from 2 to 4 r. M.
Sitectalattention glren - to
,HISEASES i DISEASES
or ~ mad Or
I
TILE EYE . ..
THE EAR
W. RYAN, .
VI •
COUNTY SUTFILINTENOE
O Mee day last Saturday of each moues, ever Turndr
& Gordores Drug Sture, :Towanda, Pa.
Towanda,..lnne 20, 1828.
MRS. 11. PEET,
TZACIILII. Or PIANO:MUSIC,
TERMS...4IO per term.
(Residence Third street, let ward.)
Torranda. Jan. 13,'79-Iy.
C S. RUSSELL'S
OENEEAL
INSURANCE AGENCY
Illtay2B-70t1. TOWANDA, PA.
FIRST NATIONAL 'BANK,
TOWANDA, PA.
CAPITAL PAID 1N...
SURPLUS FUND......
This Bank offers unusual facilities for the tram
action ota general banking business.
N. N. BETTS, Cashier
JOS. POWELL, President.
EDWARD WILLIAMS,
PRACTICAL PLUMBER* GAS FITTER,
Place of busliaess in Meictir Block, next door to
Journal Office, opposite Public Square.
Plumbing. Cu Fitting, Repairing Pumps of all
kinds, and all kinds of Gearing promptly attended
to. All wanting wort in his line should give him
-a call. _ Dee. 4.187 e.
COODRICK &
.141,ITCHCOCK. Publishers.
VOLUME XL
"At even, or at midnight, or it, the ceekrerowing,
It may be in the evening. • o
When the work of the Mich done,
And you have time to sit
,fn The twilight ••
And watch the sinking sun,
While-the long, bright daY dies slowly
Over the 'sea, .
And the hour grows quiet and holy
With thoughts of me ;
While you hear the village children -
Passing along the street,
Among those thronging footsteps
mayforne the sound of my feet;
Therefore I tell you: Watch .
By the Debt of the evening star,
When thei room is growing dusky
-1 . As the clouds afar ;
Let the I door be on the latch
I
! In your home ..
tri
F.r It ay be through the gloaming .
I will come.
It may be when the midnight
Is heavy upon the land, _
And the black waves lying_ dumbly
~, Along the sand;
When'the moonless night draws close,
And the lights are out in the house,
When the Are burns low and red,
And the watch is ticking loudly
, Beside the lied ; .
Thougliyon sleep, tired out, on your couch,
Still your heart must Wake and watch !,.
In the dark, room,
For it may be at midni g ht
I will come: ,
BE J. M. BZc
May 1, 19
It may be at the cock-crow,
When the night Is dying slowly
, In the sky,
And the sea looks calm and holy,
Waiting flr the dawn
' ; Of the golden sun,
Which draiweth nigh ;
When the. mists are on the villeyt,' . shading
The rivers chill,
And toy morning star is fading, kading
Over the bill,'
Behold I say unto you: Watch!
Let the door be on the latch
In your Lome.
o the chill before the deeming,
letween the night and morning,
I may come..
It may be in tbC. morning
When the can is bright and strong,
And the dew Is glittering sharply
DioTll4s
When the waves are laughing loudly
Along the shore;
And the birds are singing sweetly
With the long day's work before you,
You rise up with the sun,
And the neighbors come iu to talk a little
Oran that must be done;
But remember, that I may he the next
To come ha at the door,
To call you from all your busy work, t
For evermore ;
As you work your heart must watch,
For the door Is oft the latch
In your room.
And It may be In the morntog
L. ELSBUZZ
We all have had our childish shud
derings over stories of the " Gar-
G are, or Were-wolf;" that grim
ghost of bosky fastnesses of Norway,
of Hungary, the Black Forest,. and
even of the plains of France ; that
uncanny " thing "—for neither man
nor beast was he—that - spent half his
time as an honest gentleman should,
the other half roaming the high
woods, and anon assisting; so the
common people believed, in a meet
ing of chosen demons.
• During Sir Walter Scott's time the
belief in the existence of " Gar-wolf "
tteb.l7B
or " Biselavaret " still remained in
Brittany ; and a contemporary of
Sir Walter Writes : " The Bretons
still suppose that certain men deck
themselves it the skins of wolves,
sometimes even assuming their very
forms, to 'frequent nightly gatherings
over which "Old. Nick ' himself pre
sides."
One can well imagine how number
less 'were the tales of Bisclaveret in
the days of chivalry, when the red
deer wandered free over the breadth
of Normandy, the boar made his lair
in the woods of Versailles and. wolves
bayed the moon at the gates of the
scattered castles of petty Kings in
ancient Armorica.
But it is scarcely so easy to imag
ine them not a century ago, when the
wild. woods of France were no more;
when • the plough-land and vineyard
had taken the place of oak and' chest
nut grove, and when the very occa
sion of a wolf coming down into the
Dordogne would • muster out more
men from a single village than could
a whole kingdom of chivalric time.
At the present time the sipersti
tion has died out. Nevertheless, one
" Bisclaveret " story still hovers
round the winter firesides of Brittany
--by which vicux bonpapa in • his
great arm-chair— the centre of a
semi-circle of well-filled stools and
wooden settles—doles out, amid the
puffs of his briar pipe, the following:
You • may. well know, my children,
the high road leading from Poitivy
to Guingamp; how, after leaving the
village of Corlay, it winds up the
Cotes-du-Norff through wooded glend
and steep head-waters of the River
Vilaine.
' At about tiro miles froth the sum-
mit there are the ruins of a. little
chaumiere,l 9 ng since deserted, but
in my young days inhabited by one
Yvon Cardoc. ea
Very little was known of his his
tory ; he had come, he said, from
Finisterre, and n'as n carpenter and
blacksmith by trade. But as he was
a bon garcon, paid ready money; did
not get more than ordinarily drunk,
and above all was loyal, nobody
cared what he might have been be
fore ; and every one liked him for
what he was. -
At all the merry-making was
Yvon, ringleader in the frolic and
fun; and each girl in the . country
side vied with the other for, a loving
glance from his brown eyes '
And well they might.. , His tall,
athletic frame was 'set off by dainty .
clothes, And dark- locks, rolled over
his shoulders, as long and fine as
Jeannette's here.
When I was about twelve years
old it was rumored round that he was
going to be married to one of the
prettiest girls of the Haute-Bretagne ;
and she looked it, too, shortly after,
standing before tile Cure of Corley,
in her pointed white linen cap, gay
kerchief, dark-blue woollen gown,
1112.5.00 e
66,000
Aril 14 1879
foeirg.
COMING.
or to the morahlg."
Over the little lawn ;
Aboixt the door ;
I cettl come
gel c cled Cafe.
wizioauwAsill
A BRETON ROMANCE.
he
short enough to show pretty feet and
ankles incased in crimson stockings
and silver-buckled shoes, with bright
bows of ribbon on their instep, a' siL
ver heart and crucifix (her lover's
present) on her bosom; resting on a
snowy.frilled bib and apron ' • and I
thought; as -Yvon took her hand to
lead her out of church, that a better
matched pair could not be found
Brittany.
Up to the little chaumiere they
took their way, followed by a joyous
throng.
The pigs and - chigkens had been
banised into the it, oods for the
night, the mud floor si i wept and sprin
kled ; candles stood round the room
in niches or on pine brackets, reflect
ing brightly off the. 41c1 carved oak
bedstead ; the big chest had been
shoved - . into a corner to give free
warren for the dancers; while over
head dangled the bread-basket, burst-.
r ing its sides with new barley cakes,
in company with such; a goodly array
of sausages l onions and hams as
made the hungry wish for supper
time. The evening passed off gaily,
and not a cloud was to be seen in
the new Married couple's horizon till
a game of 'chance was proposed.
" Try your 'luck' in the fountain,"
said one; and in an evil moment
Yvon and Annette consented.
With solemn air Annettes L t on
papa hands to, each a piece of bread
and butter; and amid a laughing
crowd they sally out under the moon
light to - a spring bubbling and gurg
ling from a network of old oak roots.
The pieces arc thrown in. There
is a moment of breathless excitement.
. _
"They 'swim ! " "They don't ! "
"They stick !" "'No I Yes
. !. No
Annette sinks ! and the buttered side
up, by St. l ves V.' Why this should
have cast a sudden chill over the
party, I know not. A dozen times
before on New Year's day had each
and every one of them tried their
luck in the same way ; laughing as
they saw the fatal bread and butter
foretell their prosperity, sickness and
death.
S . But now; somehow, it seemed dif
ferent. The whilom jest had become
a solemn reality. Perhaps the tone
in which the bodpapa said "God pre
serve thee from ill, my' Annette I"
perhaps' the sombre shadow of the
oak, through whose heavy foliage
tiny rifts of silver flickered on-and
around, the pool. had something to
do with it. Be that as it may, the
party returned to the (Italia:ere in
silence, which the scattering "Pout',
peti, Annettes,"
from the more su
perstitious did not help to brighten.
Yes, the revel was at an end ; the
bread and butter had foretold death
for Annette within a year, and bon=
papa looked sadly disturbed when
the•heard the ominous result.
So the sobered revellers made their
adieus. hastily—starting at the foot
fails of the roe which crossed their
homeward path, and - shuddering at
the whisper of the aspens in the val
ley.
However, in spite of the bad omen.
the honeymoon seemed to pass off as
happily as could be ; and the anni
versary of their marriage day had
neariy come round ere any one knew
that aught was wrohg in the Chau
miere D'Yvon.
When they had been married
about ten months, bonpapa was one
morning sitting at .the door of his
ferme, unbending rom the rheumatic
cramps of Winter in the warm May
sun ; now watching lin the yard.
around him the grim gambols of a
litter of white pigs—gaunt even in
their youth; now giving an approv
ing look at the sturdy colt that bin
'nied and snickered round its mother
in the pasture, and made sudden -and
futile attacks on two meek-eyed cows,
blotched - -black and . white, as had
been their ancestors.
Pulling contentedly at his pipe sat
bonpapa,,drinking in the sweet scent
of the stocks and wallflowers on the
gable.
He was at peace with the world
and himself; his farming had been
prosperous these twenty years ; the
old Stocking in the oak chest had
been iexchanged a few days before
for a newer and larger one.
Yvon seemed well off ; Annette
was happy, and what more could an
old man want? But, after all, was
Annette happy ? Of late, dark circles
had grown under her eyes ; at times
she seemed distraught ;i at times,
very affectionate ; then again cold
and listless. :,,,What could it be ?
Ah here she comes 1 Not trip
ping dawn the path as was her wont
though, but hurrying onward with
her head bent, one hand clutching
her cloak round her, the other clinch
ed tight at her side. What could be
the matter?
" Bonjour, bonpapa !" "Bonjour,
ma mie !" "Is any one at home be
sides you, bonpapa ?" asked she,
looking anxiously around.
"Nobody! Jacob and Pierrot are
in the fields ; Hamlin has gone to
market. What is it, child ?"
For a moment or twa she hesitated;
then, throwing herself, at his knees,
she blurted out flercelr, "Be is a
Bisclaveret! lie told me so himself
once, and I did not believe him ; but
last night I found it out for certain."
"4 Bisclaveret I who, child, who!"
' exclaimed the astonished old man.
"Who ? why, he I—he, of coarse--
'Yvon!" •
Although' bonpapa was of a genet.-
' ally placid disposition and somewhat
rheumatic, the suddenness of this
announcement was too much-for him,
and he bounced out of the arm chair
like a. jack-in-the-box, nearly upset-.
ting himself in breaking loose from .
Annette.
Had he been a German he would
probably have , sat still and said,
"Z000000d! Z0000000l"
and given vent, to his phlegmatic
feelings after a long brown study
over his china pipe. But bonpapa,
my children, was a Bretint and a
Frenchman, and, dashing his favorite
briere pipe on the ground, be danced j
around the kneeling Annette, alter.'
nately swearing and, crossing , himself.
At last broken sentences began to
form themselves out of the torrent of
expletives. "A Bisclaveret! mar
ried to my daughter! Ah, cochon.
—and no one to Itnowit ! The omen
of the maTriage, da7l Bad luck at-,
TOWANDA, 'BRADFORD COUNTY, PL, THURSDAY MORNING, FEBRUARY 5, 1880.
tend him !" etc. However, this strain
could not be-kept up long, and, sink
ing into a chair And picking up his
pipe, he puffed itiriously at it, seem
ing unaware that the bowl had been
broken by the fall.
As soon as his excitement waned a
little, curiosity took its place, and he
conjured Annette, by her Patroness
St. - Anne, to tell him all about it;
till the poor girl, creeping closer to
him', began in a low, frightened voie:e :
"lon rememtser, bonpapa, the
omen of our marriage day foretold
my death, and I went sadly to bed
on my marriage night. The next day
when I went to the spring, the bread
was there still, with little fishes tog•
ging at ikpo what I would, I could
not shake 0* the fear of that omen.
" Yvon was kind and good to me,
and I loved him; but yet he seemed
in some wa►y coenected with my fate.
Another thing troubled me; be would
never tell me anything of his past
life, except that he had come from
*Finisterre.
" One night, about a month after
our marriage, I was surprised, on
waking up at midnight, not to find
Yvon at my side. Some nights after
that he was gone again, arid a few
nights after that; and one morning,
on asking him where he went at
night, he colored up so, and made
such a clumsy excuse that I decided
to lie awake and find'out how long
and how , often he was absent.
"At last I; found out that every
other night he went about ten o'clock
and returned just before day. .
" Knowing, as the whole country
side does, of his many amours before
marriage, I naturally concluded that
he went out to see some old love,
and the idea so maddened me—for I
loved him dearly—that I taxed him
with unfaithkulness, and said I knew
he had some mistress whom he tisit-
ed regularly.
" Whereon he laughed, and an
swered that I was the first mistress
he had ever had, and that I would
be the only one. ' But,' added he,
'if you really want to know my se
cret, I am a Biselaveret and every
other night I am condemned to spend
in the wild woods.'
• " Of course I t then thought this
nothing but are . dxcuse, and things
went on as usual; excepting that once
a fortnight he would take the donkey
and be gone twodays, always coming
back with plenty of money—so much
that I think he must - have saved up
a hundred louis.
"You well know, bonpapa, that, at
this time of the year when they have
cubs, the wolves howl more than at
any other time. Well, about a fort
night ago there was , a regular chorus
of them to the northward of the
chattinfere, and Yvon two or three
times in , that evening got up after
listening anxiously, went to the door
and came back with a disturbed look
on his face.
"It seemed to me so odd that
Yvon, a mountaineer, who had been
out at night three times a .week for
the last year, should be afraid of. a
wolf howl, that Ideterniined to find
out the reason. 1
" About half an hour after he had
gone to bed tie leaned over me to see
if I ‘.was asleep, and when, as he
thought, he had assured himself of it,
he got up, put on his clothes' and
slipped out. The moon was young,
but when 1 got to-the door I could'
see him srike into the woods clip°,
site, heading directly for the wolf
howls. ,
"This brought to my mind his
saying that he was a Bisclaveret,and
when the same thing happened , the
second night, and on the second from
that again, I determined to follow
him and - fid out the worst.
"I did so last Monday up into the
pine woods, along a beaten ,trail
starting from close to the corner of
the pasture, but which I had never
noticed - before. Just as we had got
close to the wolf howls, by o great
pine-tree and a ledge of rocks, 1 lost
all trace of him,
and, fearing the
wolves, I hurried back again. Wed
nesday night I followed him only to
lose him at the same spot; but last
night, by keeping v closer to him, I
knew, to my horror, that he'bad spo
ken the truth, for on arriving at the
ledge of rocks he stopped, lifted a
large flat stone, and took something
from under it, which, par Notre Dame
d' Auray, were wolf-skin clothes. He
put his own clothes in their place, -
and, arrayed in the skins, started to
ward the wolves, to a broken part
of the ledge of rocks overgrown with
bushes.
"As soon as I could muster up
courage I hurried after him:
" When I had got through the
thicket he had disappeared, and the
wolves seemed to be galloping away
through the forest; but as I scram
bled up over the 'ledge I was con
fronted by a wolf so enormous that
I can only believe it to have been
Yvon metamorphosed.
" I bad just presence of mind to
strike him on 'the bead with a short
ox-goad I brought with me, and then
run down the rocks again, falling
near the bottom and nearly stunning
myself. But I sprang up and fled,
home, fearing every moment he would
`follow and pull me down.
"I meantto come on here, but I
was in such terror of his catching me
as I ran that, as the ehaumiere seem
ed to afford me some protection, I
rushed in, parted the door and waited
Any fate. ]
"About his usual time he came to
the,door and tried At last he
knocked. I could not answer. I wa s
tongue-tied with tear. He knew 1
was in there, and that I had shut the
door to spite him, and after a long
time, a ft er makin g swear bfthe
Virgin he would not tiara me, I let
him in. rz4
" I was nearly frightened to death
when he came in, for no sooner was
he inside than, taking me by the
shoulders and gnashing his teeth at
me like a - wolf, -he told me that if
ever I played him" - such a trick again -
he would kill me. .
"phis -winning, as soon as I could,
I ran down 'here. But ah, my God !
bonpapa, do not let me go back to
the wolf. He will kill me some day,
I know be will ; and the prophecy of
. the fountain will come true."
So little was known of Yvon's an-
a:J L
I
REGARDLESS OF DENUNCIATION PROM ANY. QUARTER.
tecedents; he had always been' BO
mysterious about them, that, putting
this. and 'sundry other little things
together, ' coupled with Annette's
story, bonpapa could only arrive at
the unpleasant conclusion that be
had married his granddaughter to a
Bisclavaret, and that it might be as
well for all concerned to put such a
grandson out of the way quietly be
fore some horrible catastrophe , hap
pened. Many were the plans be
formed for doing so, bat they were
all marred by Annette,. who would
!never consent to' be the means of
Yvon'a death or to go back to the
chaumiere and the morning had
nearly slipped away ere bonpapa bad
half-coaxed, half-bullied her into
helping him to follow out the one
least.objectionable to her.
It was more than probable that
Yvonobeing out of temper with his
wife, would go out again that very
night; and as it would be easy to ,
follow him in the moonlight, the old
man proposed to dog him to his wolf
conference himself, and if he found
it'to be a fact, to take steps with the
Dure of Corky for his regeneration
or extirpation. To this Annette, at
first, would not azree, as she would
not consent to bonpapa's risking his
life alone with the Biselavaret. Bon-
papa to this urged strongly that .he
must go alone to save the scandal to
the family, and would not take her
foi fear something might happen to
her. But at last it was decided that
both should go; so toward evening
Annette went back . to the chaumiere
as if nothing had happened, and by
dark bonpapa was ensconced in the
edge of the moods, with the prover
bial silver bullet in his gun in case
the Biselaveret should discover him
and show his wolf nature.
Yvon's morning fit of anger had
passed of, and though moody at
times, be was kind and loving ; so
much so that Annette began to re
pent of the night's adventure before
her. She could hot help loving him
still in spite of all; but As evening
grew on, fear came over her that he
might any night return in his wolf's
form, that his savage nature might
be aroused, and that the prophecy of
the fountain might come true; be
'
sides the scandal to the family if it
were known that she had been mar
ried to neither man, beast, nor de-
mon ! Pah I she crossed herself at
the tearful thought ! The Cure would
find some way of regenerating him,
and he would not haye to be killed ;
so that by the time Yvon slipped
from the house, she was again nerved
to follow out te quest, and, giving
him a few minutes law, she hurried
out across the pasture, mottled with
wide eyed buttercups, and over the
low rail t and bank beyond, under
whose shadow bon papa awaited her,
gun in hand
Bursting through a grove of birch
and willow they find the trail, and in
a moment more - Annette's keen eye
recognizes . Yvon's figure ahead of
them, now half lost in a dense thick-'
et, now standing'out gray in a moon
lit glade against a bank of wood.
Now they scramble down over
moss , clad rocks into a dark glen,
where hazel branches arch over their
heads, the brook tinkling and simper
ing down through the damp shaiighs
and coppices of alder, fringed and
tufted round the roots with rank
burch grass.
Up into the moonlight again, along
a hillside, in an air heavy with the
scent of primroses and hyacinths.
On either side the oak stems loom
up gaunt'and white, save where knot
ted veins of ivy creep up and round .
them, sticking their life blood. Anon
they drop into a low vale where the
spongy moss squeezes out its water
from under their tread, and sighs as
it takes it shape ; once more, at the
delkiate yellow asphodel, too crush
ed and bruised to rise again.
A rabbit scuttles across their path,
one ear slouched toward kthem, the
other eocked at the great horned owl
sweeping through the tree-tops.
Cowering in the grass and ferns
they watch I von's tall figure top the
earth bank, where he stands for a
moment looking back over the trail,,
and, as Annette avers to bonpapa,
straight into their biding place.
But a moment, and they hurry on
again, as the chase is lost in the
labyrinth of seedling pines, which
usher in the forest, and whose sturdy
branches swish their faces and limbs
as they wind through them.
But taller and taller grow the pines,
freer and freer of lower branches;
and at last, after a plunge into a dell ?
of bracken higher than their heads,
they emerge into the wild woods, and
a sharp yap, yap, with,an answer=
ing howl, sails down the' wind, sigh
ing through the pine branches over
- head, to greet them on their way.
Ghost-like glide the- three figures
through the dark stems,lamong which
gray boulders crop outs, mushroom.
like through the warm carpet of fir
iteedles. Warily tread the hunters
in, the scanty cover, twice nearly dis
covered.by Yvon, who had stopped
to breathe a moment in the ascent ;
for excitement had' so kept up An
nette and the old man that neither
feltAtigne ; and as the hunted press
es on again, they slip from behind
their sheltering trees and creep alter
him like a pair of panthers, while
louder and clearer down the breeze
sweep the wolf howls.
On the crest of a long chine, over
looking a gully, Annette clutches the
old man's arm and drags himtlithind
a tree.
" There! there it is 1. across in 'the
moonlight. There is the stone! Let
us wait here." °
Slowly Yvon 'climbs the further
slope and.appears in a .little cove
bathed in moonlight against a ledge
of rocks, there rising abruptly some
thirty feet, but which a °few yards on
was a broken slope overgrown with
shrubs and bushes.
Breathless they watch him don.the
fatal skins and glide into-the thicket
toward the wolves, now quite close.
"Stay you here, Annette," whisper.'
ed the old man.; "I will now go on
alone. If I don't come back in half
an hour, go home and alarm the
country side; if you see the wolves,
climb yon tree and call for help."
" Oh,Ao nothing rash, bonpapa.
for the love of Notre Dame d'Auray
Do nothing that may bring death On
either of you, for my sake;"
A wave of the band, and anon
. be,
too, crept out into the moonlight
under • the rocks, and was lost to .
Sight in the thicket. The wolves,
after a sudden burst, had stopped
howling; and, as Annette heard bon
papa's footsteps die away in the si
lence of the night, a vague dread
seized her that she should never see
him again, and she counted the mo-
mentste his return.
Then, as she strained' eyes and ears
toward the thicket, ehe thought of
his errand; of whom he was
and all her year of married life
passed by her like a dream.
If bonpapa was successful, -if he
satisfied himself that Yvon was' a
Bisclaveret; what then? What would
he and the Cure decide to do with
him. He bad been a good husband,
and in Spite of her knowledge of his
double being, she loved him ; it seem-
ed now more than ever, at the chance
of his being -condemned to death
through her means.
Better'have faced it out than to
have told bonpapa =
Bonpapa Bow long bonpapa had
been absent—he should be:back by
this time. The'half.hour must be up.
The Biselaveret might have seen
them t racking him, turned on- the
old man now that he was alone, and
killed him. That were, if possible;
worse than the other. And in her
double agony of doubts and fears,
she krielt and sobbed Mond to the
What is that velvet footfall on the
Sr-needles ?' That short sigh behind
her? •
Oh, God! the great.wolf again at
her elbow!
"Yvon! Biselaveret! have mercy!"
For a moment the two, wolf and
girl, glared at each other; and then,,
clashing the broad 10 hite-fangedjaws
like a'steel trap, he- lunged at her.
With all her force she drove the
or lgoad home. Rut not this time !
and, ere she had lifted it_ for the
second blow he was upon her, the
white fangs buried in her white neck,
and the • cruel claws tearing her
shoulders and bosom.
One long despairing death scream
broke the stillness of the forest, cut
ting through the pine stems, buffeted
against the rocky ledge, tossed from
side to side of the, glen down into
t 1 woods below, and then nothing
but the muffled worrying of the wolf
and the throbs of the girl's death
struggle.
The scream reached the ear of
ben papa who, having suddenly Jost
all trace of Yvon, was slowly return.
ing. It could only mean one thing,
that Annette had been attacked by
wolves -or the Bisclaveret, and he
hurried back where he had left her.
As the wolf raised its head to look
at the newcomer, the - same idea that
occurred to Annette flashed across,
botipapa—thqt, Yvon' bad discovered
them following him, that not content
with his- skin's, he had taken a wolf's
form, and having given him the slip,
had gone back to kill his wife; and
the horror of the scene so unnerved
the old man that he could scarcely
hold hiis gun steady; but the Biscla
veret stotxl. still frothing his bloody
jaws over his.victim • and - at last the
silver bullet sped. • With a how! the
wolf sprang into the air, struggled a
moment. on the ground, and then
shambled slowly off.
Ah, what a sad ending to their ex
pedition-l_ What a 'poor revenge, on
the Bisclai•eret! He must die—the
silver bullet 'must do its work; but
bow dearly had that revenge been
bought! Arid bitter tears dimmed
the old man's eyes as he lifted into
his lap that little head hacked and ,
gashed by those cutting teeth. Who
was to blame for it but himself? He I
should have followed the'Bisclayeret
alone! 'There was no question about
Yvon's identity now. He had sud- I
denly disappeared only; a few paces
before him among the wolves, almost
at the top of the ledge. The thicket +
the plateau, had' ben searched, .but
be was not to be Seen. „Too sudden
ly and mysteriously had he disap
peared for man. Bisclaveret he ;must
be Devil helvas, to come back and
kill his poor defenceless wife! But
it was the 'prophecy; the omen of
the fountain had'come true
He. wiped away the blood from the
face as well as he could, n and, after
one long kiss, sat dreaming and
stupefied,
The wild hoot! hoot !"i - of a ,
screech-owl aroused him; but now
that the excitement had worn off,
how weak and helpless he felt! On
rising, his lifnbs were so numbed and
trembling that, after carrying the
body for ,a few paces, he was obliged
to rest.
It would be impossible for him to
get it' home alorke i so he stuck a
branch with a handkerchief on it
over the body ;to keep away the
wolve s,
and started sadly home Ito
rouse the country side.
How dreary was, the downward
path through the tall ,pine stems!
how ghostly the ' hush, hush " of
their branches Sißut even that was I
•company in the great silence of the
forest, where a pine seed quivering,
Spinning down, clicked as it touched 1
a fallen limb. How- heavy and choking
the scent of the hyacinths below.
Air! sir! To be again among his
fellowmen, out of that dell' where the
mists rose heavy and dank, and the
leaves sprinkled a clammy rain on
him ; and, as the sleeping vale below
berst'on his.sight and 4 the dim out
lines of the fields mapped out on its
broad moonlit -bosom , as he peered
down at the ferpie nestling in its
sheltering aspens, he
. breathed a
prayer that revenge might bring at
least a poor relief , to his troubled
thoughts.
It was barely dawn when some
twenty armed peasants filed out of
the farm yard, the old man himself
on a pony, vowing to find the Biscla
veret dead or alive, and, if the latter;
to take a fearfnl.vengeanee.
As to have gone by Yvon's
chaumiere would have been longer,
they, went straight up through 'the
woods to the spot.
Little tits and golden-crested
wrens were twittering through the
-pine branches when they reached it.
a woodpecker was tapping on the
,•
. •
tree over it, and flopped. away
throUth the woods, eehoing his harsh
laugh; but the body and the handker
chief was gone ! Where ?
" Look for the clotlfes under the
stone," proposed one. "If he is
dead his own clothes will be there •
If alive, the skins!"
The stone was lifted, andihere lay
the Bisclaveret's nightly gait), a rude
blouse land trousers of wolf 'skin,
with thongs round the waist/. Off
both of 'them', the hair was f z4 yed in
great patches, and they wre be
draggled with mud.
"IV St. Yves,his namesake,he does
the Saint honor, wearing the devil's
live# so freely!" said a peasant.
" Twere to take these , and-confront
him with them, as he is alive! 'Even
if he,doea deny killing Annette, he
cannot deny that in these he has
joined in the wolf dance. Ten to
one he has buried the body in the
:woods, and gone down
chaumiere to brazen it out
has we can avenge Annette first and
hunt•fpr her , body afterward."
The advice seemed good; and in
the first piece of soft ground; along
the ! trial, they found Yvon's
,tracks
going down the mountain.
At the corner of the pasture bun
papa called a halt, Should ti 4 take
him alive if they could and 'make
him confess, or kill him outright ?
-"
Kill him 1 kill him ! kill tilt Bis
claveret I" was the answer. `3 Why
should be be, allowed to live lotiger?
What was he but a murdering demi:on
in whose company no one was safe ?
If he would kill Annette, he - would
kill any one ! This taste for blood
might bring out his wolf nature, and
our homes and little ones are not
safe! Call hizn,out; shoot him downl
and if he will not 'come out fire the
roof. En avant len avant !"
And soon a ring of fierce faces
close in on the little ehaumiere, from
whose chimney a thin film of white
smoke simpers up through the morn-
Ong air.
" Yvon ! Biablaveret ! come out
and show yourself I lla , .ha 1, we have
you now, in spite of your sharp teeth !
Ho murderer 1 wolf mate ! show
yourself.
Slowly the door opens, and Yvon,
pale and hollow-eyed, shows himself,
only to stagger back into the house d
slamming the door convulsively as
the charges of a dozen 'guni rattle
round him.
"Fire I fire ! Burn him out.! Set
fire to the thatch ! Smoke the wolf
out 1" rang out again the revengeful .
voices, and ere it was well said tinder
was put to the roof in two or three
places. A pause. A bright streak
of_ flame runs up a long straw, and
the roof is in a blaze.
- " - Aha! Bisclaveret, you are trap
ped now ! The dievil will have his
own- sooner than he expected! Shoir
yourself, murderer 1 Show your teeth
for the last time, and die like a brave
wolf!"
But not an answering soun.i, till a
sullen rush of smoke hurtles' up as
the roof'crashes in, echoed by a cry
of rage and pain which silenced even
crackling straw and rafters.
Iri a moment more the door was
burst outward, and- from the debris
into their midst struggled Yvon, ,
shambling and tottering, grimed with
smoke, and dripping blood from a .
dozen wounds ; but -in his arm was'
clutched something, of which, in thel
fury of revenge, they had forgotten
the existence—the body of the un
fortunate Annette—in a dress once
white, but now mottled with the fresh
blood of Yvon's wounds, and smirch.
ed with cinders.
The sight was so unexpected that
all shrank back as he staggered
across the road, and fell beside the
spring.
Still further they shrank back as,
glaring round on them, he panted out
with the energy of death—
" Devils ! what do you mean ?
What have I done to deserve suck a
death ?"
" Done !" exclaimed bon papa his
anger rising as Yvon spoke ; " have
you not done enough ? Did not Ai
nette and I track you last night to
your wolf den ? And did you not ,
murder the innocent thing while I
was in search of you ? Did not my
silver bullet bite into your wolf flesh?
And do you ask what you have done,
fiend that you are ? But 'tis no use ;
you have not long to live, so make
your peace with God, or the Devil,
your master, which ever may be."
"Stay," said Yvon, "I eame'out
of my mine this morning (there's no
use concealing it longer, as I'm
dying) to find Annette cut to pieces
by wolvest, I suppose, though some
one must.,have been theke since, as
the body had been moved. Water!
quick ! I'm dying 1 I am a miner.
A year ago, in hunting, I killed two
wolyes in a cave, in which r I found
traces of lead. I opened the min:
used their skins to work in, so ant*
AO soil my clothes , and betray myself;
sold 'my lead in Guingan3pi and tO,
pat. Annette off the scent I told h her
Was a Biscliveret. And the omeliof
the fountain ' has come true, doubly
true—Annette ! Annette !"
Slowly the last, words bubbled; up
through the froths , lips, and d i roppibg
over her body there passed away
from earth the soul of Yvon Pardoc,
the last Bisclaveret of Brittiny !
—Macmillan's Magazine.
A covivrnic doctor, being out for a
day's shooting, took his errand boy to
carry the gante-bag. _ Entering a field of
turnips, the dog pointed ; and the' boy,
overjoyed at the prospect of his master's
success, exclaimed : • "Lori, master,
there's a covey ;,if you get near 'ern,•
won't yon physic 'em ?" ' Physic them,
you young rascal? What do you mean?"
said the doctor. ," Why, kill 'em, to be
sure," said the lad. L i
TuE,th is a man named Ice in the,peni
tentiary of West - Virginia. lie froze on
to somebody else property... •
THE OLD, OLD STORY.
Eager to see, she pressed the soh. •
The slight frame broke with sudden crash,
Aid teal into the street.
A splinter strnck a gallant knight,
He upward glanced ; there met his sight
The little maiden sweet.
She smilefl ; he smiled ; you know the reit...
My tale You have already guessed,
The end of course Is plain.
Theniahl confessed, drew back tram view'
The knight passed on, amidst his crew,
They never met again.
81.00 per. Anna!» In Advance.
A GIRL OF THE PERIOD.
, .
Put sway the curling Hons. ,
Lately used by darling Claire, ,
• ?Or she nevermore will need them;
,She bas banged her golden lisle.
Place the frizzes In the bureau, - • .
, Where her eyes nay on them fall,
As she dives around the bed room
Getting ready for the ball.
• Set her tooth•bruth ln the tumbler, •
Hang her itocitings on the chair,
So that when bar young man cometh
She will not be is despalt,
• Don't forget the zebra garters
I That go with her silken hose, •
And getout a perfumed rag
for her to blow ber tiny nose.' •
Now l oir darling's fairly ready;
Soon she'll face the wintry Breese; _
1 1 And, her youliger brother ?immure
thy i ain't sne just the elievieln
EDGAR ALLAN POE.
His Venerable 'Teacher. Still Living in
Baltimore---Intereisting Reminis
=noes of the. Poet.
to the
If he
One of Oe'Bulletin's staff, a day
or two ago, had the good fortune to
have an inveryiew with the' venera
ble Joseph H. Clarke, now eighty
nine years old, who was the early
preceptor of the poet, Edgar , . Allan
Poe. In Eugene L. Dialer's memoirs
of Edgar Albin Poe, the folloiting
occurs : "On Air. and Mrs.' Allan's
return from their two years' visit to
England, Mr. Allan placed Poe in
the academy of Professor Joseph IL
Clarke, of Trinity College, Dublin,
who kept an English and classical
school at Richmond from 1816 to
1525."
He greeted the Bulletin represen
tative cordially, but it was plain• to
see that the aged man, though physi
cally as hearty ai many a man thirty
years his junior, had grown mentally
feeble under the weight of
_many
years. When the old
_gentleman was
seated, the reporter explained that
he wanted any reminiscences of Poe
that he could give.
"Edgar, Edgar," said the old
man, rising, with a far-away look, as
memories,of old times flitted through
his mind. - "'Why, he was a born poet.
One .day Mr. Allan came to me and
said: " Mr. Clarke, I have heard
much about your school, and as 'Ed
gar shows a decided aptness for
classics, I have detertnined Ao place
him uder your care." This was
'about 1820 0r.1821, and. Edgar _en
tered my school. He becathe one of
the most distinguished of my schol
ars. He and4):at. HoWard were in
the same Glass.' Nat. was as good, if
not better, than Edgar in the class
ics,.but Nat.. couldn't write Poetry
like Edgar could. Edgar was a poet
in every sense ot the word. One
summer, at the end -of the Session,
Nat: and Edgar both wrote me a
complimentary. letter. Nat.'s was
written in Latin, after Hortice, but
Edgar's was written in poetry. I
came to Baltima•re that summer, and
I showed those letters to Rev. Mr.
Damphoux, of St. 3ary's college.
and what do you tliink he said ?
"air. Clarke.. these compositions
would do honor airi, credit to the
best educated professor in my col
lege." .oh, yes, Edgar was, a poet,
and he Wasn't more than twelve or
fourteen whennhe wrote that letter
to me."
" Did you keep it? have you. it
now ?" the reporter asked eagerly.
"No, , no , " the .old. gentleman an
swered sady: "I returned it to Ed
gar. ,One day, after I had 'come to
Baltimore from Richmond, Edgar
came to visit me. I, .old him about
the letters, and Edgat rose and said,
with such a strange,, yearning looli
in his eyes: " ion couldn't do Nat.
Howard and me a greater . favor than
to return us those letters. I think
Nat. Howard would like to have his,
and I am sure I would give worlds
to have mine.' I- gave them to him."
"Then you have no memento of
Poe?" ••
The old man sadly answered, "No,
sir ; that's one thing 1 always regret
ted, not, having kept some of Edgar's
notes or poems. But then, you know,
I couldn't tell.at that time that. Ed
gar would ever be a,great man."
" Wain't P'oe a very - handsome
boy, Professor ?"
" Well, he had very pretty eyes
and hair, and rather ,an effeminate
face, but :I don't think he was a beau
tifui'boy. He had a very sweet dis
position. He wee• always cheerful,
brimful of mirth, and ,a very great
favorite with his schoolmates. I nev
er bad occasion to say a barsh word
to him while he was at my school,
much less to make him do ' penance."
" Did he study very hard ?" -
"No ; he was not remarkable for
his application. He was naturally
very smart, and he always knew- his
lessons. He had a great deal of
pride."
" Did you ever see Mary Poe, Ed
gar's littlesister ?"
" Yes; she was adopted by Mr.
litiKenzie when Mr. Alldn took Ed
gar.”
"'Was she pretty ?" '
4 Well, really, I can't remember
very well, but I think she was 'a very
sweetlnd interesting child."
" You saw Poe after ; you left Rich
mond, of coarse ?"
" Yes ;' when, he carnet() Baltimore
and stopped at the tavern, he would
never forget to come and see pe." '
"Do - you believe that your pupil
'was an habitual drunkard ?"
"That I can't tell. I think he was
fond of wine, and I know that I Rl
' ways opened a bottle for him wheal
he came to see me ; but• then it was
the custom of the age, you know, to
drink wine at that time. Then, when
Edgar becartie editor of Graham's
Magazine, be sent it to me regularly
gratis."
" Was he affectionate to you, pro.:
fessor?"
" Yes, indeed ; I think the boy and
man kived me dearly, and I am sure
I loved; him." '
" When was the last time you saw
him?"
" When he wail laid away to rest,
in 1819. -I went to his funeral. A
large number of persons were pres
ent; and I remember the minister
who officiated dwelt long on the
great man's virtues. Yes," he Con
cluded, "Edgar, as a boy, was a dear,
open-hearted t cheerful and good boy,
and-es 'a man he was a loving and
atreetionati friend to me." -
,
A case of peculiar interest is down
for hearibg by Lord Young. in tbe
Scoteh court of sessions. It appears
that a watchmaker of Ayr, who .110
amassed a fortune of £lO,OOO, len it"
by will (subject toe partial life inter
est for two sisters) for the rebinding
of the old bridge of. Ayr, whenever
such rebuilding should be required.
He appointed the magistrates and
town council of Ayr trustees under -
the will, and' directed that the prin
cipal Bum should lie out at compound
interest till it was required. The will
is contested ,by the brothers of the
testator, who urge, inter* a/la that
the old bridge of Ayr has staid for
several centuries, and solar as can
be judged will stand lor centuries to.,
come. They therefore maintain that
the will is null and 'void, in respect
of the remoteness ,:of its ptirpose.
The alleged verbal testimony of the
bridge might itself be called -in in
suppOrt of the case of what in Scotch
law are
,called_ the pursuers. The
depositions were taken down by ,'
Robert Burns, and stand, upon record
under 'the - familiar heading, "The
Brigs of Ayr." At
_the date when
Burns heard the alleged controversy
between the Auld Brig and - the New
Brig he says of the former:
NUMBER 36
Auld Brig appeared of ancient Bictish.rbre.
The very wrinkles Gothic in.his face ;
lie seemed as he wi' Time h ad waratled Lang.
Being twitted by this condition by
his. younger , rival, the . Auld. Brig de
clared with pardonable pride :
There may - be some - difficulty in
getting this evidence accepted by"the
court. It is, nevertheless, not alto
gether without interest,-and • seems
to go straight at the point at once.
A great dea of talent .is hist to .
the world for the want of courage.
Every day sends to the grave a num
ber of obscure men, who have only
remained in obscurity because their
timidity has prevented their first ef
fort, and who, if they - could have
been induced to -begin, would, in all
probability, have gone great lengths
in the career of fame. The fact is.
in order to do anything in this world
that is worth doing, we must not
stand shivering on the brink, and
think of the cold and danger, but
jump in and scramble.as we can. It
will - not-do to be perpetually calcula
ting,risks and adjusting nice chances.
It -did - very well before the flixl,
when a nian could consult his friends
upon a publication for one- huadred
and fifty years• and then live to see
its success for six or seven centuries
afterwards, but at present - a man
waits, doubts, and hesitates and con
sults his brother and his uncle, and
particular friends, until one 'day he
finds that he is sixty, years of age ;
that he has, lost so much time in con
sulting first cousins and particular
friends that he has no time left to fol
low their advice. There is no'such
thing for over-squeamishness at pres
ent, the opportunity so easily slips
away, the very period of his life at
which man chooses to venture. it
ever,-is so confined, that it is no bad
rule'to preach up necessity, in such
instances, of a little violence to• feel
ings, and to efforts made in defiance
to strict and sober calculatiob.
The Aukl. Brig of Ayt.
This mony a year I've stood the flood and tide,
And though wi' crazy etid'Arn sair forgalrn.
I'll be a brig when ye're aiittagetess cairn t
Words of Courage.
Thacke \ ray.
He was born-of a well-conneoted,
well-established family, peihaps with
no floating grandeur of a pedigree,.
but with. a generation of cultivated
lives behind him; and thus had the
advantage, , not shared by all his ri-'
vals, of thorough acquaintance with ,
the inner life of those classes who
are the favorites of literatpre, and
among whom the finer problems of
civilized life can .best be studied.
Dickens never possessed this advant
age. HoveVer- elevated the society
might be in which he lived, in fiction
lie was never at home among gentle-
men, and had no freedom in handling
them. But tho{igh thus standing on
a higher level than his great compet
itor, Thackeray had not his immedi
ate success—he had not even ,the
success which attended Lever's easy
and dashing' sketcher t -but toiled up
ward for along time before his hand
touched ate hazard the hidden spring,
and the - door flew openefore him.
Up to this time he had lived a strug
gling- life ; spending and losing in
the first place the little fortune to ,
which he was born, and then -for a
number of years, struggling along
with varying degrees of unprosperity;
neither happy in his circumstances
nor fortunate in his -efforls,
.but al
ways cheerful, always honorable, and
self-sustained ; a man flung by stress
of weather into many out-of-the-way
vessels and voyages, but never stain
ing his good name or leaVing shame
behind him.—Fraser's Magaz.ine.
Fun, Fact, and • Facetm.
A TRAMP and Keely's motor,are alike, "
inasmuch-as they won't work. .1
Tge thrifty man will always iut tome
thing away for a.rainy day, even if- it is
nothing but a stolen umbrella.
PROMISE to treat a man and he will
walk a mile to get a tive.cent glass of
beer. Something in the word just touch
es him.
,
Tux di ff erence between the man who
digs in the ground and one who digs in
books is that the former digs foi hire and
the latter for lore.
Tas worst ease of "stage fright" is
that of the man who thinks ho has - pass
ed up a two dollar and a half gold piece
instead of a dime to theAriver.
CONDUCTOR (to'Brown, who . -is pretty
nearly pumped out with running to catch
his express 'bus)—" All right, sir ; all
right. Don't flurry yonrscl, you're a-gain
ing."
Ax.old lady - in Wichita says she never
could imagine where all the Smiths came
from until, she saw in a New England
town a large sign, "Smith's Manufactur
ing Company.' .
AT the'inner table—George : "What
do you call that piece of wood, in the
- roast beef?" .Lincolu: "That f. 4 called
a skewer." George-: ' "Oh ! that keeps
the meat se-curb, does it?"
"idoNEt doe everything for a man, "
said an •old• gentleman, • pompousy.
"Yes," replied the other-One, 'but mo
ney won't do as much -for a man as some
men will dolor money."
• THERE 18 a patient idone of the New
York hospitals who, in h' delirium, con
tinually ca ll s out, " Next next !" The
physicians are.undecided whether he is a
college professor pr a barber.
Bien Dentist (wh o is contemplating
the erection of a fine residence)— Wh
style of architecture do you recommen
Architect—Sebing it's y u, I should
think Tuscantwould be ab4dt the thing.
"Jour" said a doting. parent to her
'gormandizing son, "do you really think
that yon can eat the whole of that pud
ding with impunity?" "I don't know,
mar," replied the young hopeful, "but I
can with a spoon.' `
A sun who bad sixty-five dollars stolen
from him received a note with twenty-five
dollars, saying : "I stoled your money.
Remora news at my consbens, and I send
genie of it back. When remote 113111f5 agin
I'll send you some more."- - • -
11