(She &mti gtpuMton,
'3 I'UllttnilKI) KVKRY WUDNKSDAY, BY
OrriCE Iff ROBINSON & BONNER'S BOlfelKG
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it.
vol; xi,
NO. 24. TIUNESTA, PA., SEPTEMBER 4, 1878. $2 PER ANNUM.
i -
The 1'ntli Through the Cor!
Warm and briehtin the summer air,
Like a pleasant Beawben the wind blow fair,
And its ronghoHt broath had scarooly purled
The greon highway to a dixtant world,
Boft whispers ps.eHing from sboro to shoro,
Ai from hearts oontent yet dogiring more
Who foels all forlorn.
Wandering thus down the path through the corn?
A short spaoo since, and the dead leaves lay
Mouldering under the hedgeww gray,
Nor hum of insoot, nor voioo ot bird,
O'er the desolate Bold was ever hoard;
Only at eve the pallid snow
Blushed rope-red in the red sun-glow;
Till, one blent morn,
Bhot up into life tho young green oorn.
Small and feohlo, slondor and palo,
It bent its hood to tho winter gale,
Hearkeuod tho wren's soft note of cheer,
Harclly believing spring was noar;
Haw chestnuts bud out, and campions blow,
And daimes inimio the vanished snow
Whore it was born
On either side of tho path through the oorn.
The oorn, the corn, the beautiful oorn,
Kining woudorful, morn by morn;
First scarce as high as a fairy's wand,
Then Just In reach of a child's wee baud;
Then growing, growing tall, brave and strong,
With tho voioo of new harvests in its song;
Whilo in fond sooru
Tho lark out-carols the whispering oorn.
A strange, sweet path, formed day by day,
How, when and wherefore we cannot say,
No more than of our life-paths we know,
Whither they lead us; why wo go,
Or whether our eyes shall ever see
The wheat in the ear or the fruit on tho treo!
Yet, who's forlorn t
lie who wa tored the furrows can ripen the oorn.
Tho Romance of a Studio.
In the every-day working world there
are hot Bunshiue and rattle of carriages,
the oeaaoless tread of restless feet and
the ooufused Babel of a thousand differ
ent Bounds. Biit.jn the ver7 throng of
it one can turn into a long high hull,
climb a wide dim stairway, and enter a
totally different place and atmosphere;
that is Don Lepel s studio.
Four easels are iu the room, on each
an unfinished picture, and the whole
air of the place is that of still, thought
ful, purposeful work, Lepel is a
painter of tho modern school industri
ous audj'.horoiurhly respectable, with
fashionable visiting list, and a good
credit in tho Second National Bank.
Iam sorry to admit that he id not
hau'isoino. People expect beauty ol
artiste; but Lepel is short and rather
stout, and has other deficiencies not
worth particular mention. Still, as he
stands before his easel with his palette
on his thumb, calling up on his canvas
a face of exquisite beauty, there is a
sense of power about this ordinary man
which almost ennobles him.
He has been working this warm June
day since early morning, and he is satis
fled with himself. "I will go to the
Turk now," -he Bays, approvingly; "I
shall enjoy a stroll, and perhaps I may
take a pull up the lake."
That was Lepel's very sensible idea of
recreation; and ho had qnite tired him
self with the llrst part of his programme
when he came to a little rustio Beat un
der some pines near the upper boat
house. There was a girl Bitting reading
at one end of the bench, but she was
very young arid very shabby, and he did
not in the least fear that Bhe would con
sider him an intrusion.
At first he watched the boats, but
pradually hia companion attracted him.
Her form was faultless, and be found
himself dressing and posing it in all the
characters which just then occupied his
pencil. Of her face he could see noth
ing at all, for there was a little brown
Buu-ehade between them. This was so
far favorable that it allowed him to make
a thumb-nail sketch of her attitude,
which was extremely natural and grace
ful: and he had soarooly done it when
fortune played him a pleasant frick; the
cirl. in attempting to tenr open a leai,
let her sun-shade slip"; it fell to the
ground, and Lepel stooped and lifted it
for her.
The next moment they stood face to
face, and Lepel exolaimed. in tones
which were a strance mixture of pleas
ure and annoyance. "Why. Boe ! Is it
possible 1"
Bee Bhrnggod her shoujders and said,
petulantly, she supposed it wsGT
"And I have been sitting beside yon
twenty minutes, and did not know you."
"I knew you.
"Why did you not speak ?
"My dress wob bo shabby and my
"Do you suppose I have grown
snob also, Bee ? Sit down; I want to
talk to you.
"Yes, really.
Where is your father
now r
"He died last summer
"Poor child ! What have you been
dome: since ?
" I can find nothing to do. During
the opera season I Banc; m the cliorns,
and I made my money last us long as
possible. But I am very poor; you can
Bee that.
" Bee, I owed your father some money
lor oopymsr-
" No. you did not. Mr. Lepel. You
cannot offer me charity on that plea,
But if you know any way to get me
work, that would be a great kindness ;
if not, I must live as the birds do, from
crumb to crumb, till winter comes. "
" Suppose you let me board you with
Signor Z . lie would prepare you
for a better engagement, and you could
pay me from your first receipts for
your father's sake, Bee ?"
" Why should you do this for father's
sake? You were not friends; you had
not been to Bee us for four years. I
hoard that yen had rich patrons and had
grown proud. "
" Well, Boo, I will make you another
offer. I want a model, say, from two to
four hours a day. You will have to
stand in very fatiguing postures, and I
shall perhaps get cross and unreasona
ble, aud forget you aro Beatrioe Erling;
but I will give you the highest terms,
and pay you every day as you earn the
money."
" What will you give me?"
" Fifty cents an hour."
" That will do.' When shall I come?"
" To-morrow at ton o'clock."
The conversation had fallen into a
purely business tone, and after these
arrangements. Lepel handed her his
card, and Haid a rather cool " good
evening. " For now that the thing was
done, he was uncertain as to its wisdom.
In the first place, he had offered Bee un
usually high terms; and in tho second,
he had voluntarily connected himself
again with a class of artists for whom he
had neither respect nor sympathy. He
knew that he liad been influenced by
Bee's beauty, and that if she had been
ugly or ill formed, his remembrance of
her would not have led him to any such
active sympathy.
"It is a bad plan," oaid tho young
man to himself, " to analyze one's good
deeds. I have not a bit of self-complaisance
in what I have done for Tom
Erling's daughter ro-night, and I sup
pose now she will be a great nuisance to
me."
This renoontre oompellod him, even
against his inclination, to recall the gay,
clever, idle fellow whom he had bo long
forgotten. " What an infinite genius
that man had I" he muttered ; " there
was nothing he could not turn his pencil
to ; and as for musio, it was his nativo
tongue."
But, for all that, Tom Erling had
been a failure and a broken promise.
He worked irregularly, he never kept
his word, he fell into debt, borrowed
money, and by continual petty imposi
tions Binned away his most faithful
friends. And yet the man had some ex
cuses ; for he had been set to fight a
battle for whioh nature had provided
him with no weapons. Time ! money I
obligations I Tom knew the value of
none of these things. He ought to have
lived in some sunny Italian city, and
beea cared for as the ravens aro.
Lepel had at first been charmed with
his easy good-humor, his song and wit,
and free-handed generosity. But men
can't afford to pay auooess and fame for
tnese pleasant things, and be bad found
himself compelled to drop an acquaint
anceship which brought him nothing
but unreasonable claims and annoy
ances.
Beatrioe had then been a Bhipshod,
ill-cared-for girl of twelve years old,
perfectly familiar with all her father's
shiftless, dishonorable ways of raising
money. Scrambling breakfasts, disor
derly dinnrrs, alternate fasting aud
feasting, was the girl s domesuo story.
She had picked up a knowlodge of read?
ing and writing, and New York had done
the rest for -her. In some marvellous
way she bad acquired laay-ime and
rather reserved manners, and the knowl
edge of how to
make the most of thefnesitated, and the chance was forever
little clothing she was able to procure.
But even among her father s asso
ciates Bhe had no friends. These genial
good fellows had nothing to spare for
themselves. They all spoke pityingly
of "poor little Bee," but not one of
them would have denied himself a cigar
for her Bake. When her father could no
longer protect her, she had even got to
fear him, and to feel their notioe of her,
in some way or another, an insult.
But Don Lepers offer was a different
thing. She thought it over after he had
left her, recalled his looks and tones,
and felt satisfied. "You are a lucky
little bench," she said, smiling, and
touching ' almost superstitiously the
rough wood, "and I feel as if good
fortune had been making me a call."
The next evening Bhe was rather more
doubtful of it. Lepel had been very
cool, and had made her fully earn her
fifty cents an hour. However, as the
weeks passed away, things grew pleas
anter. Bee had plenty of tact, and had
been in an excellent school for develop
ing it. She saw at once that Lepel did
not trust her, and that she would have
to win his coiifldenoe. Indeed, Lepel
was constantly expecting to find her the
daughter of her father, lie feared that
she would break her word, forget her
appointments, or ask for money in
advance. As her reserve passed away,
and she became witty and merry, or
indulged herself in snatches of eong or
a new step in a dance, he expected
these moral aberrations more and more,
But they did not come. Bee grew
rosy-cheeked and light-hearted, began to
dress with much taste, managed her
small funds with discretion, and eaid,
gratefully, "she began to see the good
of living." In fact, before the winter
was over Bhe had got, through Lepel's
influence, a comfortable little business
as "model," and was making with her
six hours hard strain three dollart
day.
The June sunlipdit in which we first
saw Lepel's studio is now January Bun
light. Somehow the room has a bright
look: perhaps it is the bosket of flowers
on the table, or perhaps it might be
such a trifle as a cunning pair of bronze
slippers trimmed with cherry-oolored
bows that are standing on the hearth
rug. Don Lepel has just put them
there. It is a very, very cold morning
of course that accounts for the action.
He stands looking at them with
dreamy look in bis eyes, very uqubu&J
to those keen gray orbs, until be hears
a clear quick footstep come pit-patting
along the hall. Then he resumes his
preoccupied air and his palette and
pencil.
The door opens, and in come1) Bee.
Her face is like a rose, her eyes like
stars; her dark blue suit has bits
snow all over it, and ro has her trim lit-
tie hat and feathers. She nods to Lepel,
shakes herself jauntily, and then taking
off her hat, fans it gently before the fire
to recurl the feathers.
"Better put on your slippers, Bee. I
can't have you take cold now, with these
three pictures on hand."
"Which do I sit for this morning?"
"Ophelia. I have been painting tho
face from mademoiselle's photo; yon
will dress and pose for the character."
I don't feel like the love-lorn damsel
this morning. Bah I The idea of any
woman dying for love, and the enow,
and the sunshine, and the joys of musio,
and reading, and eating, and walking to
live for I I suppose Bhe was insane of
course Bhe was.
She was unbuttoning her boots during
this tirade, and when she had slipped
her feet into the bronze slippers and
waltzed twice round the room, dodging
Apollo and Hercules very cleverly, she
announced herself ready to begin. . ha
few minutes the secret of he high
spirits was evident. Lepel read to her
a few lines, and her face and hair and
figure instantly translated them; the
very droop of her arms was a revelation
of physical sympathy.
Two or three times while occupied
with minor details he let her rest, and
Bhe trailed the long robes of the Danibh
maiden up and down the room, chattmg
all the time in the merriest every-day
manner. " Had Lepel heard that Clif
ford's picture was sold ? Did he know
that narry Martin and Palozzi hod quar
relled ? Was he going to the Lotos, and
if bo, would he tell her how Miss K 's
dress was trimmed?" Then she told
him of a new song she was learning, and
obligingly hummed over part of, the
melody. And so dock again to the
heroine of a thousand years ago.
At last Lepel says, " That will do to
day, Bee. Will you go and have an
oyster pate with me, or is Clifford wait
ing for you ?"
"I dont 1ik6 oyster pates, xi you
give me a quail I will go."
"Very well, Miss Extravagance, you
have dote admirably to-day, and you
shall have a quail. Then are you going
to Clifford's?"
"Why do you tease me about Clif
ford's? I am not going to Clifford's
any more."
"Butwnynotf
"A woman's reason because I am
not."
The next morning, Lepel met her
very stiffly. ' "Before you robe, Bee, I
want to tpeaK to you. Bit down and
warm your feet."
She nut the pretty slippered feet on
the fender, and looked curiously up at
htm. "Well?"
" Clifford was here last night, and I
know why yon would not go there yes
terday. Think again, Beo. Yau might
do much worse. I have tried to be your
friend, and I must say this much."
" Oh, You advise me to marry Clif
ford. " For a moment her face was
ablaze with scorn, but the next her eyes
sought Lepel s inst for a moment :. lie
lost to him. Nothing could be more
cold and saroastio than her next atti
tude. "Clifford has genius, Bee, and in
dustry ; he is struggling bravely for a
position.
i n ate poor struggling men. i saw
plenty of them in my childhood. Suc
cess is the one thing forever good. The
successful man is the handsomest man
and the wise man ; he alone is worthy
of a woman's love.
She spoke extravagantly, as was her
habit under excitement, but Lepel was
annoyed at it.
" I do not like your advice," she con
tinued, angrily. " You favored Mon
tana because he could cultivate my
voioe, and I might thus have a career
with him ; and now you advise that I
become wife to the poor struggling
Clifford, in order to save him the ex
pense of a model, I suppose."
" Don t be unjust, uee. i only wisn-
ed to see you cared for."
" Than you : but I nave my own
ideas as to what being oared for means."
"Do you mind enbghtening me ?
"Not at all. It means a luxurious
home, servants and carriages, foreign
travel, home entertainments, and a hus
band whose greatest joy is to gratify
my wishes.
Lepel hardly knew whether she was
in jest or earnest, ior bug stood up to
make her explanation, and ended it with
a pirouette that brought her suddenly
face to face with a gentleman whoe
amused expression showed that he had
been a listener to her avowed matri
monial position.
Then Lepel turned with a bow to his
visitor, aud Bee vanished behind an old
oaken screen a convenient place for an
observation, and Bee was not above
peeping at the intruder, lie was a man
of about fifty years of age, with a fine
presence, and that indefinable an no at
mosphere around him which envelops
tho confidently rich man. Boe liked
his appearance, and was rather pleased
to observe that he glanced around the
room before leaving it ; Bhe was eure
that he was looking for her.
There was no more now to be said
about tiuuord s hopes, and no more
advice to be given to Bee; Lepel for
got everything in his gratification at
Mr. Belniar's visit and the orders he
had given him. These orders really
required Borne supervision, but hardly
as much as that gentleman gave then).
In a few weeks he was a very regular
vititor at Lepel's studio. He said he
enjoyed these visits, and it is probable
he did. Bee's costumes and characters,
her sunny good temper, her queer criti
cisms on players, politicians, artists,
and the world in general, made it a con
stantly changing entertainment.
If Bee suspected that she had inter
ested Mr. Belmar which it is likely she
discovered at onoe Lepel certainly
never did. He considered his patron
as. a genuine lover of art, and a peculiar
admirer of his own peculiar style and
coloring. That he should admire Bee's
kitten-like movements, and applaud all
her clever, keen little epigrams, was
natural enough; he did that himself,
and everybody else did it.
Thus the winter passed pleasantly and
profitably away. Bee had saved a little
money, and was taking singing lessons.
" If she was to have a career," she said,
spitefully, to Lepel, " it should not be
with any Montana." So now in her
intervals ef rest Bhe oang scales and
astonishing exercises; she eaid the lofty
rooms suited her, 'and they objected to
her practice in her boarding-house.
Lepel h.ad no objections to her rich
musical intervals; besides, it gave him
occasionally the pleasure of saying,
" That is a false note, Bee. "
It was again June, and Lepel hod put
the finishing touches to Mr. Belmar's
last picture. He met that gentleman
one warm afternoon in Union Square,
and told him so. Then they turned
toward the studio, and went up to look
at it. It was an Italian scene, and Bee,
dressed as a Tuscan peasant with a
basket of grapes on her left shoulder,
was the only figure.
"She is a beautiful girl," said Mr.
Belmar, thoughtfully, " Either as
Princess Bee or Peasant Boe she is per
feet. By-the-bye, what is her na ne?"
" Her name," eaid Lepel, coldly, "is
eatrice Erling."
"Erling? Erling? Not Tqm Erling's
daughter?"
"Tom Erling's daughter. Did you
know Tom?"
"We were brought up in the same
Conneticnt village, and went to the same
district school. Tom beat me in all the
classes, and I whipped him out of them.
Then he fell in love with my eiBter in
short, there was a quarrel, and Tom
came to New York. He must be poor,
to let his daughter "
"He is dead. His wife was an Italian
singer who died Boon after Bee's birth.
The poo child has no relatives."
"I will tell my Bister about her. Bhe
is an invalid now, with very few pleas
ures or interests. I am sure she will be
glad to befriend Tom Erling's daugh
ter."
In this way it came to pass that Bee
was soon constantly visiting at Miss
Belmar's pretty cottage on the Hudson,
and that whenever Bhe was there, Miss
Belmar's brother also found it convenient
to come out with a few new books or
Borne early fruit. Indeed, the maiden
lady, almost confined to her house, had
given her heart very realily to this
bright, pretty child of the only man Bhe
had ever loved. She could befriend
Bee, and do something for her; and this
in itself was a great pleasure to the poor
invalid, so long the recipient and not
the giver of kindness.
So when in early July iiepei shut his
studio and went away for four months,
Boo's small personal effects were remov
ed to Miss Belmar's, and she spent the
summer there. And it was amusing to
see what easily detected little plots and
plans this lady laid in order to bring
about a marriage that bad been already
determined upon.
Bee had never been so happy in all
her life; the sweetness and coolness and
repose, the tender love and ceaseless at
tentions, tho riding and boating and
moonlight strolls, made the time pass
like an enobanted dream. Mr. Belmar
watched her constantly, but found noth
ing in which it was necessary to direct or
advise ber, for with that wonderful
adaptive tact inherent in American wo
men she caught not only the habit but
the tone of the circumstances surround
ing her, and made them a part of her
self. Early in November Bhe went one
morning into the city and climbed again
the familiar stairway lea ling to Lepel's
studio. He had resumed work, and met
her with a petulant complaint : "Where
on earth have you been, Bee ? I have
written three times for you."
She did not answer immediately ; but
sitting down before the fire, and putting
her feet on the fender in her old way,
she turned her head and looked rather
sadly down the, long room. " Lepel,
what charm is there is this life, I won
der ? Who that has lived in Bohemia
ever left it without a Bigh ?"
" You don't mean to say that you are
leaving it?"
"Yes, I came to Bay 'farewell.' I
shall never make money or make merry
in this dear old room again. I am going
to be married."
"To Clifford?"
"What an idea! No, Sir, to Mr.
Belmar. I shall order pictures of you
now, Lepel, and patronize you dread
fuily." "Don't pull my prices down, Bee.
That is all I ask."
" But that is exactly what I shall do.
Mr. Belmar will have a great mauy ex-
Eenses with me. I shall not lot him
uy any more pictures."
She spoke in her old saucy way, bal
ancing her muff first on one hand and
and then on the other ; but in spite of
her jesting way, Lepel saw Bhe was in
earnest about her marriage. He Baid a
few low words of congratulation, and
went busily on with his work. Bee felt
instantly sobered. Was he angry with
her ? Was he jealous of her good for
tune, or Belflahly eorry to lose bo good a
modol ? If Bee had believed it any of
these things her tongue would have
avenged hef, but some look on the
grave, sorrowful face' mada her remem
ber the moment when she had Been
Love's confession trembling on his lips.
She rose quietly, said a few words of
gratitude and farewell, and before Lepel
could answer them, was gone.
Then Lepel, taking from a Bhelf a
pair of small bronze slippers, locked
them carefully away, and with them
locked away the one love of his life. He
worked harder than usual, worked
till the room was cold aud dark, then
throwing down his pencil, he made his
only complaint on the subject : "I don't
blame her : she never knew ; I hardly
knew myself. Well, well, life is full of
might have beens.' "
Again the January snow is in the
brisk cold air, and Lepel's cheery studio
has its old look of earnest labor. He is
before his easel, but he is not working
with his usual serious attention. The
reason lies on the table beside him in
the shape of a note of invitation to din
ner at Mr. Belmar's. A year has passed
since he saw Beo, and he is not at all in
love now, but still she possesses a
greater interest for him than any other
women. He wonders how she will look,
and what she will say, and whether ho
himself ought not to buy a new evening
suit for the occasion. Also there is dimly
present a pleasant expectation of orders,
for Lepel is never oblivious to Buch
pro6table contingencies.
Stillrif he had one selfish thought,
ho forgot it in nobler feelings when he
saw Bee again that night, standing in
his quiet recess, he watched the beauti
ful woman, serene in temper, elegant in
manners, and exquisitely clothed, guide
the whole entertainment charmingly to
its end. Her husband Btill her lover
trusted absolutely in her, and his
sister watched her with a pride tnat was
almost motherly; it was evident she was
to be a woman of great domestio and
social influence.
Lepel sat long that night over his
studio fire thinking about her. "How
often I have scolded her in this very
room I how often she has said 'Thank
you' for a two-dollar bill right here on
this hearth-rue ! and yet how cleverly
ehe made' me feel, without a shade of
Eride or nnkindness, that she was now
rs. Belmar ! Belmar has got a model
wife." And Lepel smiled grimly at the
only pun he had ever made. "Now no
man could ship into a position like that,
and fit it so exquisitely; but women
puzzle me more and more every year
1 1 : JTnm.
per' 8 Weekly.
Coney Island.
Coney Island comes in for a good share
ot notice in the New xois. Trtoune, no
ma Riven some five columns of desenp
tion and illustrated by several maps. It
is an extraordinary Btory of the sudden
growth and development of a popular
resort out of a barren sandy snore,
Within leas than ten years, four miles of
the beach a saudy tract on Long Island
at the entrance to New xorK baroor
was a desolate waste, which nobody
claimed and nobody visited. There
were a few bath houses, and a small
hjjtel where an invalid could half-live,
Half -starve. A single steamboat did
HnrvicA as a tnsr-boat. lichter and pass
enger boat. One railroad ran down
near the center of the island, but there
was neither hotel nor depot at its end.
Within four years, and mostly within
the past two, soven railways have been
constructed; in place of one dilapidated
there are three elegant steamers, and
four more excursion Bteamors ply as
regularly as ferries, the single hotel
with its five shabby rooms has been
succeeded by at least twenty, three of
which are as good as those at any sea
side resort Claimants are plenty for
land which a few years ago nobody
would own, and leases that then went
begging at seventy-five dollars each are
now held at $30,000 for the two years
yet to lapse. Where $100,000 was not
m 1874 invested in hotels, railways,
steamboats and pavilions, now fully $5,
000,000 is employed, and where fifty
persons found occupation three months
iu the year, now 2,500 find constant
employment. It is remarkable that a
place bo convenient to New York and bo
well adapted for giving the hot aud
weary people of the city f reBh air and
water, should be so long given up to
"clammers" and "crabbers," or to pic
nio parties of such a character that re
spectable people were obliged to keep
away or submit to insult and possibly
worse. Its rapid growth is equally re
markable, and its advantages and capac
ity for entertaining the constantly in
creasing patronage is being developed
more and more each year.
Spitting Spite."
No blows are struck in the East. A
quarrel in Bulgaria is accompanied by a
Berios of highly exasperated expectora
tions, reminding the observer of a noc
turnal feline combat. One of the com
batants spits upon the pavement,- in
what he conceives to be an intensely
ma'iguant and daring manner; his an
tagonist immediately follows suit, and
spits upon his Bide of the street in what
he imagines to be a more desperate and
blood-curdling style, and, if the con
troversy is a vory deadly one, the par
ticipants keep up the bombardment of
the unfortunate Bidewolk until their lips
are so dry that they rattle in a vain
attempt to expend more ammunition,
Wheu this point is reached, the dispu
tants generally walk off in different di
rections, turning back every two minutes
for the first two miles to shake their fists
in the direction they suppose their an
tagonists to have taken.
Items of Interest.
Americans eat twice as much Bait as
the English.
The grasshoppers have appeared in
Central America.
A fast young man: The one who But.
down on a pot of gluo.
The first piano in the United States
was made at Philadelphia in 1775.
All honest men will bear watching. It
is the rasoals who cannot stand it.
Women love flowers and birds. They
are, however, not so partial to swallows
as the men are.
A quidnunk iz an individual who goes
about stealing other folk's time, and
phooling away lis own. Josh Billings.
"How greedy you are 1" said one little
girl to another who had taken the best
apple in the dish; "I was going to take
that."
The people who never mhko enny
mistakes nor blunders have all the neo
essarys ov life, but miss the luxurys.
Josh Hillings.
There was a time in this country when
the man who was sunstruck would ttrike
back, but Americana are loosing their
taste for war. Detroit Free Press.
The small boy looks with longing eyes,
Upon the apple green;
He will not touch them if he's wise.
Lurking in the oore thore lies
Colio and cramp unseen. -
Will, I fear you are forgetting me,"
said a bright-eyed coquette to her favor
ite beau. "Yes, Sue, I have been for
getting you these two years," was" the
suggestite reply. . ;
Shakespeare makes use of the. words
"And thereby hangs a tale" in four of
his plays "Taming of the Shrew,'
"Othello," "Merry Wives of Windsor,"
and "As You Like it."
The inhabitants of Madagascar are
dying to get hold of an American ship
captain who sold them 10,000 quart
cans of tomatoes as a new kind of gun
powder. Their old blunderbusses
wouldn't go off.
THE BTJMBI.B BEE.
" Buzzing little busybody,
Happy Hitlo hay-fiold rover.
Don't you feel your own importance,
Bustling through these wilds of clover ?
" Don't yonr little wings grow weary
Of this never-ctasiiig labor?
When tho butterfly swings near you,
Envy you your Idle neighbor V
" Stay a moment ! Stay and tell me.
VVon't my gossip make yon tarry ?
Hurry home, then, honey-laden,
FaBt as busy wings can carry.
" Fare-the-well, my tiny toiler, "
Noisy little mid-air steamer;
Thou hast taught a wholesome lesson
To an idle daylight dreamer.
A Kovel Position of Danger.
There are probably many persons ljr
ing in the shadow of Jennings' Knob, iu
WilEon county, Tenn., who are unac
quainted with the origin of the name.
The story, as told by Captain Jennings
himself, for whom the Knob was named,
is as follows :
A party of scouts from tho stations on
Bledsoe creek, in Summer county, was
over in Wilson on a tour of observation
for Indian signs. It was a habit of the
settlers to keep out men all the time,
who went in succession the entire circuit
of the settlement, in order to give timely
warning of any hostile approach.
As tho party referred to were prepar-.
ing to camp late one winter afternoon,
Captain Jennings, who was one of the
number, Btarted out to kill a buffalo
from a herd which was near by. There
was a heavy sleet on tho ground, and ho
found it difficult to get a good range on
account of tho noise of his feet on-the
cracking ice; but after following tho
game for several miles, he at last killed
a very large bull at tho top of a high
knob. Fearing that the meat would be
injured if left until next morning, he
skinned tho animal and took out tho
viscera. By the time he had finished
his task night had come, and ho decided
to remain with his meat instead of Beck
ing camp in the darkness. So, wrapping
the huge hide around him, 11 esh Bide
out, he lay down and slept very com
fortably until morning. On awaking
he fouud himself tightly imprisoned iu
the hide, which had frozen hard during
the night, and now resisted all his efforts
to escape. Hour after hour rolled by
in agony to the captain. He yelled at
im inn rf tiia vnin for heln. and strained
and kicked with all his great strength at
his rawhide inclosure, but it proved
stubborn to the last degree. He el
ected his companions to search for
him, and they did, but with a great deal
of caution, fearing that he had been
killed by Indians. His prolonged ab
sence could be accounted for in no
other way.
The captain, in relating the circum
stance to Captain Rogers years after,
says that he gave up all hope of extri
cating himself as the hours wore away
and his companions failed to come to
his rescue ; he supposed that they had
become alarmed at hiB absence and had
loft the vicinity with the idea that he
was dead, and that it was unsafe to
search for his body. Truly it was a
trying situation which his great strength
and will had failed to overcome. To a
man who had escaped Indian bulleta
and had swam icy rivers like a beaver,
Buch a dsath was mortifying iu the ex
treme ; but such was the prospect he
had to face alono and unaided by human
power in the depths of the wilderness.
We will let him relate the issue in hia
own words, in answer to a question as to
how he finally escaped : " Wall, the Be
come out in the afternoon, and '.this t
ened the hide ou top bo I could g' t
arm out. and when I got one arm
I worked Hke pizen until I got my