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TEE FOREST REPDBL'
1A1H
Ii published very WttfniwUy, tf
Ol5a Ju SmoArbaugh & Co.'a Buw
KLM 8TRBKT, TIONK8TA, r. --tp,
Term. - '. - tl.BO per Yoar.
No fnlmrrlntlnna rirnlVmt f -
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Worrenjiomlmice nollcltod from all part of the
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comniualcatlotit. '
THINGS THAT NEVER DIB,
The pure, the briglit, the beautiful,
That stirred our hearts In youth;
Ttoe Impulso to a worMless prayer,
The dream of lnvo and truth;
The longing after something lost,
The spirit's yearning rry,
The striving after hotter hopes
These things can never die.
The timid hand at retched forth to aid
A brother in 111 rrnod;
The kindly word in grief's dark hour,
That proves a friend indeed
Tlio plea for mercy, aoftly brnathod,
When justice threatened high,
The sorrow of a contrite heart
Theso things Bhall never die.
The memory of a clasping linnd,
The pressure of a kiss,
And all the trifles snoot and frail
That make up life's bliss:
If with a firm, unchanging faith,
And holy trust md high,
Those hands hava clasped and lips have met,
These things 'ihnll never die.
The cruel and the bitter word
That wounded as It foil.
The chilling wants of sympathy
We feel but never te.ll
The hard repulse that chills the heai
Whose hopes were bounding high,
In an unfading record kept -
These things shall never die.
Let nothing pass, for every hand ,
Must find some work to do;
Lose not a chance to waken love
Be firm and just and true.
Ho shall a tit that cannot fade
Beem on thee from on high,
And angels' voices say to thee,
These things shall never die.
All the Year Hound.
MY LITTLE BOY.
I wns a widow.
A young widow, I suppose for no
one would regard tnree-and-twenty as a
very venerable nge. And a pretty widow,
people said. Whether they were right
or wrong, I cannot, take upon myself
to ny. Of course I knew, whenever I
looked in tho glass, that I was not an
-absolnto fright and so, when my
. cousin, Mrs. General Fox ley, invited
mo to spend a summer with her at the
Oriental hotel, w hero there wero balls
and soirees, lawn tennis and archery
breakfasts going on all the while, I
wasn't at all sorry that MUo. Chatclage
had sent home my lovely new half
mourning dress, nil trimmed with pearl
and lavender, sparkling jet and pris
matic clair do lunes, and that Aunt La
vinia, our family "etiquette-book" had
decided that it was quite proper to
. wear my diamonds if I pleased. For I
j was a decided brunette, and dark wo
r men always look well in diamonds,
j Kot that it had occurred to ' me that
i I should ever marry again. My old
commodore had been very good and
kind to me, but ho was feeble and ail
ing, and required a great deal of care
and my goneral impression of matrimony
was that it involved trouble aud solici
tude, and a constant burden ol responsi
bility. And now, I was free, and I intended
to remain so! I felt liko a caged bird
that hud managed to give its golden
wires the slip a butterfly Jn tho blue
June air! I meant to go to the Oriental
hotel and have a royal timo, waltzing,
dreaming even coquetting a little in a
harmless sort of way, if it seemed good
to me but as to marrying again no,
not I! Even I'riscilla Bent, my com
panion, who was the most logical of
creatures, declared that I would be the
greatest fool alive to do that!
But we never know just what is go
ing to happen to us. Tho very night
before wo were to start for tho Orient,
I came into tho room where Priscilla
was packing the luce things, which were
- too nice and delicate to be intrusted to
Fifinc, the maid.
"Prissy," said I, "look here! a tele,
gram from San Domingo! My cousin,
1 Fanny Black, is dead !"
".Dear me, how sad!" said Prissy, put
ting on tho regulation look of ulHiction,
although she had never in her life seen
Mrs. Cuptuin Basil Black, of H. M. 114th
Fusillsers, stationed in the West Indies.
"But I supposo that won't interfere with
our trip to the seaside, will !t?"
"But that isn't all," said I. "She has
left a son. And with her dying breath
she charged it on her attendants that I
should take him to this country and
make a home for him."
"How old is he?" said Pricilla Bent,
looking agast. And "
"Let me see," said I, counting upon
my lingers. --isasii liiuek thats
his name, for 1 i ..icniber cousin Fanny
w'riting about him to mamma when I
was a mite of a thing must be one and
twenty at least by this time."
"Bless me!" ejaculated I'riscilla, "and
jou are only just turning twenty-three
yourself!"
"Prissy," cried I, with mischievous
glee, "You're as good as a book of
dates!"
"But it won't be, proper," said Pris
cilla. VNot proper!" echoed I. Why won't
le proper? Isn't thut dear old corn-
Ct(ilore's house big enough for all of us?
. IjI aren't you here to matronize us?
ISNZO link myself it w ill be rasher fine to
! p a suite of buchelor apartments
lanufakiug room; dressing-room "
J I.., 11 - : . i n:.... ty . -l
5 telieve you would make fun of any
' Ig! Don't you see how outlandish
Aiphiu would be? Write at once to
b tan Domingo people, und tell them
Er rout of the question."
rtt's too late now, Prissy," said I.
ley are on the way here, don't you
'I'l I bhouldn't wonder if the steamer
RIBEf
m port now, ado you Know,
at F "V B '3T
'ri
VOL. lYIIIr-J.1"
t- -1-1--.a "4 " .j1-L
1 ,.v, i. ..vCu , r.i
IlkWO UUJ, VII1JT IUQ UVI1 IVIUUIVUUIU
wouldn't let me."
"Klein."
"Well, Prissy?"
"I think you must be crazy," groaned
Miss Ben. "A little boy, indeed! A
dashing, flirting, drinking West India
fellow, six feet high, I'll go bail, and
broad to correspond 1 1 shall leave the
house !"
"No, you won't, Prissy, said I, coax
ingly. "You'll just make the best of it,
as I ain going to do. I dare say he is
very nice, and poor Fanny never would
have left him in my charge if he wasn't
all that is delightful. And perhaps he'll
want to go to college, or study law or
something, so he won't be very much in
the house.aftcr all and you know, Prissy,
one can't neglect n dying woman's re
quest." "It was very thoughtless of her, at all
cvenls," grumbled my faithful old chape
ron. "A young thing like youl"
I laughed. "I dare say she heard I
was a widow," said I, "and probably
imagined me a middle-aged horror with
eye-glasses and a double chin. Leave
these things, Prissy we shall not go to
the sca-shoro now until cousin Basil is
safely installed with his gun case, his
hookahs aud chibouks, his books and
papers, in my blue rooms! Come with
mo and we'll have up the house keeper,
and turn them into a bachelor suite at
once."
1 was very happy lor the next three
days, studying tho imaginary tastes of
my unknown cousin, culling out choice
editions of the poets, hanging rare en
gravings on t ho walls, and matching car
pets and curtains. Miss Bent, poor old
soul, said it was all nonsense, that no
young man of any spirit could conde
scend to "sit down" that was her ex
pression) "in a house where he was to be
a dependent."
"But ho is my cousin," said I. "He
has a claim on me."
"Nonstnse," said Priscilla. "that
doesn't alter the case in the least."
In the meantime I was watching the
pnpers and when I saw in the shipping
columns the arrival of the "Bonnie
Kate" trom San Domingo, I put on my
hat and veil, ordered the carriage, and
called Prissy to go and accompuny me to
welcome my new guest.
"If I must, I must," said Prissy. But
sho was not at all enthusiastic about
it.
I was just pinning the crape bow
under my chin, when Alice, the parlor
maid, came courtcsying in.
"A young gentleman in the parlor to
seo you ma'am," she said in a smiling
flurry. "From the ian Domingo steamer.
And "
"I'll go down at once, Alice," I cried,
tearing off my hat and veil and flinging
the heavy cape strenmor on one side.
"Elsie, Elsie, wait," Priscilla's shrill
voice entreated me, but my mind was
full of poor cousin Fanny and her or
phan child and hurrying down stairs, I
found myself face to face with a tall,
slender young man, very pale and fair,
with dark blue eyes, a soft, silky mus
tache, and plain mourning dress.
Involuntarily I threw my arms around
Ids neck and kissed him.
"You are welcome, Cousin Basil," said
I, "wclcomo a thousand times."
He drew back, colored a little. "I beg
your pardon, Mrs. Charteris," he said,
"but there is some mistake here. This
is your cousin !" and a pale child of four
or five years old, whose long golden
curls hung over his black suit, crept out
from the shadow of the curtains, slowly
and shyly.
"I am Frank," he said. "And Mr.
Lesley is my dear,dear friend. He lived
on the next place, in San Domingo. He
has come to the United States with me!"
"But," I cried, looking helplessly
around me, "where is Basil?"
"Basil died two years ago, when the
yellow fever decimated our place," said
Mr. Lesley, quiellv. "I was his most
intimate friend. Little Frank is all that
is now left of the Black family, and I
promised his mother to sec him in safety
to your house."
I looked with a pang of pity at the
dear little eolden-huired fcllow.of whose
very existence I had hitherto been ignor
ant. "Sweet little Fraukie," said I, "you
shall be my little boy henceforward,"
and I clasped the . baby form to my
breast.
"And Mr. I Jslev, too?" said the little
lad, solemnly reaching out his hand to
his friend. "Cousin
Elsie likes Mr.
Lesley, or she wouldn't have kissed
him."
I could feel myself color to the very
roots of my hair, but Mr. Lesley's feat
ures never stirred.
"She thought I was you. Frankie,
don't you see?" said he. "Sho didn't
expect to see such a mite of a chap as
you. Good-bye, now, I am going to tho
hotel, and I shall see you very often, if
Mrs. Charteris is "
But at this Frankie burst into an in
fant cry of dismay und desolation, und I,
recovering my presence of mind, spoke
up at once:
"Frankie. doa't cry," said I, "Mr.
Lesley will not leave you just at pres
ent, at least. You were my dead cou
sin's trusted friend, Mr. Lesley." 1 added
holding out my bund. "May I not hope
that you will be my guest, also."
And Mr. Lesley seeing that 1 was
thorougLly in earnest, consented.
I "If I shall not be a bore!" he said,
j when little Frankie jumped and danced
around him, for very joy.
'Now I shall love cousin Elsie all my
life said he. "And so will Mr. Lesley!"
Mr. Lesley occupied the suite of apart
ments which I hud so unconsciously
fitted up for the poor young cousin who
was sleepiug the while in the West India
cemetery. Little Fraukie, who had re
fused to be parted from his friend, slept
iu a crib close to his bedside.
"Well, Prissy," I said merrily to my
TIONESTA, PA., WEDNESDAY, APRIL 22, 1885.
mother chaperon,
we've got two
guests instead of one 1"
"It's dreadful." growled poor Prissy.
'Doyou thiak B0? 8Bid J- Now it
seems to 12 UlRt 5t ls very &ood funl"
Well, of cli5 81yne laa conjecture
for themselves cnded- Mr
yM young and isno, -moreover he
had a snug little proper r uls own
He liked the United States; Inci
dentally remarked that if he had any ol
ject ho would prefer to remain here per-
mancntlv.
"But," he added, mournfully, "it is
sad to bo so entirely without ties, that
no ono cares whether you stay in one
place or another."
"I care," piped up Frank, who sat as
usual by his side, holding his hand.
"And so does cousin Elsie."
"Yes," said I, laughing, though not
without some confusion. "Frankie is
right. "We both care."
"There," said Mr. Lesley, I will stay."
We were engaged within the month.
And as soon as 1 laid off my half mourn
ing we wero married, so that Frankie
never yet has been compelled to separate
from his friend.
And Miss Bent lives with us still,
and we are very happy 1 There is the
end of my love story. Ought not all
love stories to end so? Miss Bent says
that all real romances end sadly, but
my experience, you aee, has been alto
gether different. And perhaps I am a
better judge than she is. Shirley Broumt,
The Hammer.
The hammer is the universal emblem
of mechanics. With it are alike forged
the sword of contention, and the plow
share of peaceful agriculture, tho press
of the free, and the shackle of the slave.
The eloquence of the forum has moved
the armies of Greece and Home to a thou
sand battle-fields, but the eloquence of
the hammer has covered those fields with
victory or defeat. The inspiration of
song has kindled up high hopes and no
ble aspirations in the bosoms of brave
knights and gentle dames, but the inspi
ration of the hammer has strewn tbe field
with tattered helm and shield, decided
not only the fate of chivalric combat,
but the fate of thrones, crowns and
kingdoms. The forging of thunderbolts
was ascribed by the Greeks as the high
est act of Jove's omnipotence, and theit
mythology beautifully ascribes to ono of
their gods the task of presiding at the
labors of the forge.
In ancient warfare the hammer was a
Eoworful weapon, independent of the
lado which it formed. Many a stout
skull was broken through the cap and
helm by a blow of Vulcan's weapon. The
armies of the crescent would have sub
dued Europe to the sway of Mohammed,
but on the plains of Franco their pro
gress was arrested, and the brave and
simple warrior who saved Christendom
from the sway of the Mussulman was
named Martel "the hammer." How
simple, how appropriate, how grand
"the hammer." The hammer is the
savior and bulwark of Christendom.
The hammer is the wealth of nations.
By it are forged the ponderous engine and
the tiny needle. It is an instrument of
the savage and the civilized. Its merry
clink points out tho abode of iudustry
it is a domestic deity, presiding over the
grandeur of the most wealthy und ambi
tious, as well as the humble und impov
erished. Not a stick is shaped, not a
house is raised, a ship floats, or carriage
rolls, a wheel spins, or engine moves, a
press speaks, a viol sings, a spade delves,
or a flag waves, without the hammer.
Without the hammer civilization would
be unknown, aud the human species only
as defenceless brutes, but in skilful
hands, directed by wisdom, it is an in
strument of power, of greatness, and
true glory.
An Ecoeutrio Chancellor.
Chancellor George M. Bibb, of Ken
tucky, twice a Senator from that State,
and 'secretary of the treasury in Mr.
Tyler's administration, was known in
Washington as "the last of the small
clothes." Until his death he wore a
broad-brimmed hat, fine linen, long
waistcoat, knee-breeches, black silk
hose, and lew shoes with silver buckles.
The chancellor's personal appearance
and manners proclaimed him a gentleman
of the old school dignified, high-toned,
and coutteous to everybody. Even the
boys, knowing that he took snuff, would
often stop him in the streets with
"Please, sir, give us a pinch of snuff!"
The chancellor, with an air that would
! have become Louis XIV. himself, would
at once oiler his snull-box to the lime
fellow.
One day, the chancellor met in Wash
ington a friend from Kentucky, ami in
quired particularly about the gentleman's
family his son and his son's children.
" i lis youngest," said the frienrt, "is
named for you and for one of the Bibical
characters: Nehemiah."
"That's right." replied the chancellor.
"The law and the prophets should
alwnys go together.-"
The chancellor's fondness for angling
amounted to a passion. Whether the fish
"bit"(or not, he would sit for hours on the
bank of a st ream, with rod and line, wait
ing for u nibble. A story, illustrative of his
reputation as the most patient of anglers,
used to bo told in Washington circles:
A gentleman, seeing thut the chancellor
had been sitting ou the wharf for several
hours, watching his tloat, strolled down
to him, and asked, "What luck?"
" None," replied the chancellor. "1
thought I had a bite two or three hours
ago, but apparently there is not a fish
nowhere."
" What is your bait?"
" A live, plump, young frog, hooked
through the fleshy part of the leg."
' Look there, chancellor!" said the
friend, bursting into a laugh and point
ing to a log partly out of wuter.
The chancellor looked aud saw his bait
finning itself ona log." Youthen Com-pinion.
CM
(THE EXECUTIVE MANSION.
A LOOK AT THE WHITE HOTJSB IW
ITS VARIOUS BBAHCHBS.
The Great Teatlfcule
mentation Tim
and It Orna-
at Hoom and
tel'oailr Chandeliers.
The Washington correspondent of the
'CnC'and leader gives the folio win
tercsting ascription of the White House:
The Preslcfeu's house is a long white
rectangular builuMnVt two stories, with
many large windows in tct looking out
at Pennsylvania avenue au.itWautiful
park opposite it, and with a wrfW; ;.
like tho entrance to a Greek temple, iu
ting out over its front door and support
ed by a number of Greek pillars as white
as the house itself. A long green-house
like conservatory is attached as a wing
to its western end, and the building
stands several hundred yards back from
the street, and it is surrounded by twenty
acres of lawn and trees. In the front of
it the ground slopes by an easy grade
down to Pennsylvania avenue, and an
iron fence with gotd-hcaded points sep
arates it from the wide sidewalk. At
the back, the house looks out on the
Potomac, and over the river on the hill
may be seen Arlington, the home of
Washington and General Robert E. Lee.
The lawn back of Vhe White House is
rolling and it contains many forest trees,
a beautiful fountain, and near the house,
in summer, gardens and flowers.
The wide walks or drives lead in a
winding way from the street to the big
porte cochere, and this is so arranged
that several carriages can stop under its
cover and their passengers get out with
out danger from the weather.
The White House covers about one
third of an acre, and it has cost up to
tho present time about $.3,000,000. It is
modeled after a castle in Dublin, and the
architect, who was a South Carolina man
named Hoban, got $500 for drawing the
plans. When it was first built, away
back in the nineties, it cost $300,000,
but the British burnt out its insides, and
its cost has since added to that sum
about $1,700,000. In it all of the Presi
dents since Washington have lived, and
each has added to its beauties and its
expenses. 1 tninK it wasJolin yumcy
Adams who bought the first billiard
table which was used in it. But in John
Adams' time it was only half furnished,
and Abigail Adams used to dry her
clothes in tbe big east room. Y'ear by
year, however, the furnishing has gone
on, until now it is a sort of a museum of
art and beauty.
Let us enter it. A servant, with a
face like a statesman and a form which
would have made him a member of the
giant guards had he lived years ago in
Prussia, opens wide the doors for us.
They slide back easily on their hinges of
polished brass, nd we step in upon the
tiled floor of a great vestibule, the back
wall of which is a mosaic of beautiful
stones and colored glass, looking much
like one of the walls in one of Frederick
the Great's palaces at Potsdam, Prussia.
There is a room in this palace of Fred
erick's walled with such a mosaic of
jewels. It cost an immense sum and
was built by Frederick to blind the eyes
of the other monarchs of Europe to the
real state of his purse. He was ham up
and his fellow kings supposed that he
was so. He bluffed them in this way
and so kept his credit good, as they
thought no one would undertake such an
expense with anything less than billions
to draw upon.
These stones in the wall of the
White House vestibule are many of them
set in the rough, in beautiful shapes, and
they look something, so said a visitor,
like the broken wine bottles of the White
House beautifully cemented together.
Tiffany made this wall and the govern
ment paid well for it.
This vestibule alone covers the space
which would be covered by a good sized
eight-room house, and thirty men could
march abreast going from one end of it
to the other. It has doors at each end
and in the middle and end of the glass
wall. In it the Marine band plays at
great receptions, and here gentlemen
throw off their overcoats and leave them
in the hands of their footmen while they
see the President within.
At the left is tho entrance to the hall
leading to the upper
story, where tho
President spends most of his time, and
just off of this is the east room. It is
probably the largest parlor in tho United
States. It is eighty feet long and forty
feet wide, and was originully intended
for a banqueting hall, but is now used
for receptions. The walls are of em
bossed paper of white and gilt, and the
ceiling is beautifully finished in oils. It
is a very high ceiling, three times as high
as ordinary, and has great girders or
beams richly decorated running across
it. Massive chandeliers with thousands
of glass pendants hang from it. These
chandeliers cost f 5,000 each, and each
contains 0,000 pieces of the finest of Bo
hemian glass. 'When they are lighted
the eight massive mirrors, each as large
as two billiard tables, reflect their bril
liant rays, and the whole brings out the
richness of the fine furniture of old gold
satin and the beauty of the moss-like car
pet. Between these mirrors uang some line
oil paintings which are set like tne mir
rors into the walls. There is one of
Gilbert Stuart's Washington's, life size,
and as big as one of the mirrors, which
cost two thousund dollars. It is the
picture that Dolly Madison had cut
from the frame w hen the British invaded
the capital, and carried it off with her.
A little further along is a fine portrait of
Martha Washington, which cost $3,000.
It is the same size as that of George, aud
to me it looks fully at well. The east
room is always open to visitors. It is of
no use to the President outside of recep
tions. Just off it at the back is the greeu
room, containing Huntingdon's portrait
UWSL
$1.50 m ANNUM.
of Mrs. Hayes with its beautiful frame,
and next to it the blue room where the
President's lady receives her company
and where the President stands while
he shakes the hands of the multitude at
a big reception. Tho furniture in this
room is elegant in tho extreme, all of
blue and gold, and forms the drawing
room of the Presidents wife in the even
ing. 1 he red room, furnished through
out in red, is like unto it, and in front
of both is a long promenade hall, fur
nished like a parlor, and containing full
length portraits of all tho Presidents
from Washington to Arthur. President
Arthur's portrait is in the right end as
you enter and it is one of the finest por
traits of the lot. The end of this hall
-,'011110 tne conservatory, and at a
retJon one can extend his walk in
amonv plants and flowers of the
tropics. r,re are lmlm trecg and fe
roses of hw.dg of varieti lemom
trees and oran,y08go which bloom
away under thes9 while ,he wi
winds blow outside. 3 thfc thermometr
stands at zero. This Cv t
in the dining-room of thhite
,Here all of the state dindNI.e gjven
and oceans of champagne.nci j? gne
beeves, thousands of turkeys, fcyoa(jg
of t.errnnin iiYirl frreat. lnkea of ipjv
have been swallowed year after year'kj
the past half century or more. Jcffer0 siinset radiance has appeared
sou was almost a uau&rupii iiulu um
White
House dinners. Jackson spent
upon them more than his salary, and not
a President, save, perhaps, Andrew John
son, came out of the White House with
anything more than he went in. Ar
thur's dinners have cost him a fortune,
and each state dinner cost him from teu
dollars a plate upward. When it is re
membered that each of these dinners
have about forty guests at the table you
will see that a state dinner costs at least
$500, and I am told that Mr. Arthur's
ordinary meals, to which he always has
several strangers, cost about five dollars
a plate. There is always wine on the
table, and this is of a quality which
adds materially to the table expenses.
Last winter there were nine state dinners
during the congressional season, and
every person of prominence in Washing
ton sat down at the President's table.
The usual dining hour is 8 p. m., and
guests sit as late as 11 or later. While
the dinner goes on tho Marine band
plays charming music in the vestibule,
and the strains float in, not so loud as to
interrupt conversation, but gently and
pleasantly. The china set in use is of
Limoge ware representing the different
flowers and fauna of America. It cost
$15,000 and contains five hundred pieces.
The light of this dining-room is from
colored wax candles in beautiful gold
and silver candlesticks, and there are
many mirrored sconces set into its walls.
Its guests often appear in regimentals
and a state dinner at the White House
is perhaps the finest sight in our social
world.
The upper floor of the White Hoese is
devoted to offices and bedrooms. It is
reached by a stairway and an elevator.
The latter, however, is private. The
cabinet chamber, the private reception
rooms of the President, and the rooms in
which visitors are received by his three
or four secretaries, are all here, and the
whole looks more like a business office
than a home.
Imitation in Birds.
I remember distinctly hearing a
thrusher often repeating in its madcap
song some notes new to my ear, which
could not be ascribed to any Michigau
bird of my acquaintance. After patient
ly waiting for some time in tho glaring
sun of a bright June day, I heard the
notes so plaiuly that I was thoroughly
convinced they were an imitation of the
song of a Southern bird the "chuck
will's widow," so called, a species allied
to our whippoorwill, and named as in
our familiar Northern representative of
the family from the words so plainly
uttered. This thrush learned, then, the
notes of the chuck-will's widow at least
500, and probably quite a thousand miles
from Michigan, and yet reproduced
them so distiuctly that one could easily
distinguish them, and from mere descrip
tions in books at once tell them the name
of the bird imitated.
Here, mounting the top of tho tallest
tree near its nest, it pours forth ecstatic
mclodv, executing the most difficult
i -""'"- ; .
L itrainu With ihtt an, ..nan thur It In in.
attempted; the schoolboy's whistle, the
bark of a dog, or the bleating of a lamb
are equally well executed and issue from
! its throat in a continuous, hrrmonious
strain, frequently of an hour's duration.
What wonderful mimicry, what a con
trast to the best attempts of ventrilo
quists and imitators, traveling through
the country to reproduce before audiences
a few mumbled sounds or attempted imi
tations of the sounds and notes uttered
by birds and mammals. Dr. Morrit
Oihb.
The Love of Praise.
It is an instinct as much as conscience
is. It is an organic faculty as much as
the reasoning faculty is. It is just as
much a part of our structural existence
as tho heart is, or the lungs are to the
body. It is a counterpart und balance of
that which we cull pride. But the word
untie is ollensive and usually conveys
jie jjea 0f
an improper feeling. It is
the conscious value of one's self. It is
the sense of individual rights, one's per
sonality, the inherent right to be what we
are, self-estimation. To be sure you
have a right to your own judgment and
personality, but these men have a right
to judge you, aud what they think you
do well they praise you for, aud you have
that iu you which makes praise very
sweet. So there are those two qualities,
one preserving the individuality of a
man in all his rights; the other making
him sensitive to the retlected influences
of these around him. Ikuhtr. ,
No brass band can play as many air
j at a drum-major can put on.
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Job work eua on dallvery.
the land of the aftefwooh
An old man slta in his garden chair,
Watching the sunlit western sky,
What sees he in the blue depth there,
Where only the Islos of Memory lief
There are princely towers and castle? high,
There are gardens fairer than human ken,
There are happy children thronging by,
Radiant women and atately men, ' "
Singing with voices of sweet attune
The songs of the Land of the Afternoon
The old man watches a form of cloud, t
That floats where the azure islands art,
And he sees a homestead gray and loved,
And a hand that beckons him afar.
Oh, cheek of roses and hair of gold ! . . , j
Oh, eyes of heaven's divinestbluel ."
Long have ye lain In the graveyard moldt
But love is infinite, love is true;
He will find her yes, it must be soon;
They will meet in the Land of the After
noon.
The sky has changed, and a wreck of cloud .
Is driving athwart it troubled face,
The golden mist is a trailing shroud;
It is cold and bleak In the garden place.
Tbe old man smiles and droops his bead,
The thin hair blows from his wrinkled
brow,
every wasted feature now;
xhales like a breath in June
'id the Land of the Afternoon.
1ILoF THE DAY.
On her beam etSST,.
'A sound sleeper rEt
, , o snores.
Umbrellas and goocr .
ways belong to those wVdonA al"
most. -t
A young woman is not necessarily
ice girl just because she has a snowj
anowyV
brow. Drake's Magazine.
If "bread is the staff of life" then
pound cake must be the gold-headed
cane of existence. New York Journal.
"Arizona now exports tannin." Thu
is another avenue of .usefulness closed to
the Massachusetts schoolmarm. BotUm
Transcript.
A woman never uses her husband's
meerschaum pipe to drive a nail with
more than once. Not if he knows it.
fteu York Journal.
Extract faom a letter from Angelina:
"Dear Henry, you ask if I return your
love. Yes, Henry; I have no use for it,
and I return it with many thanks."
We are in danger of having too much
culture in this country. An aesthetic
buff-colored pug recently got mad in
Boston because his mistress dressed him
in a light green blanket.
It is now stated that Henry M. Stanley,
the great African explorer, wears
swallow-tail coat. We can now under
stand why he was able to travel among
the cannibals for years without being
roasted and eaten. No man looks juicy
in a swallow-tail coat. Throuqfi MaU.
A LAX.
The happy nightingale
Doth ulithuly trill away,
And charms some mortal's ear
With his sweet little lay.
Also, the barn-yard hen
Doth nest an eyg each day,
And charms some mortal's taste
W ith her sweet little "lay."
Jef. Jostyn, in. St. Lvuis Alayazine.
"Where is that new man that came
with us in January?" said ouc M. T. to
another. "He left last week," was the
reply. "Well, if he left last week, it
was because he couldn't get his hands on
it," put in their slightly absent-minded
employer, looking" up from his books.
Such is life, etc. Merchant- Traveler.
MOSTLY LIKH.
Said Juiios : "I hardly ever ride,
For crowded cars 1 can't abide,
And carriages I do despise
I am so tond of exercise. "
"I bring my lunch,"' said Smith, elate,
"For noisy restaurants 1 hata ;
Beside. I'd spoil my appetite
For dinner when 1m home at night."
Said Brown : "I'm tough ; I never wear
An overcout. I do declare
I do not feel the cold like those
Halt-frozen chaps weighed down withclothes."
"I never touch cigars." Green soke.
"They're made ot stuH uniit to smoke
For health!' ulness or com for t rim
Uive me my lragraut brier pipu."
And so we all apologize
And make excuses mostly lies,
liocttUse we Uiue not say with sense
We go without to save exjMinse.
Henry UUasoii, in the Ironmonger.
Snuff Luting.
City druggists have very many glimpses'
in the inuer life of their customers. " I
want five cents worth of snuff," Baid a
little woman, as she bent over the counter
of a drug store this morning and'
whispered the order in the clerk's oar
with a mysterious mien. Glancing
furtively around to assure herself thut
there were 110 witnesses to the transaction,
she added: "It's for another lady. I
never use the stuff." Picking up a
neatly wrapped little bundle in white
paper, sho placed it to her nose to assure
herself that it was the genuine article,
then tluug down a nickle and hurriedly
left tho store. "Here, Johnny," said
the clerk, turning to a boy who was
standing behind the prescription case in
conversation with a reporter, " put up
some more suuff. All thoso packages we
made last niht are gone already. Hurry I
Here's another customer across the street.
Yes, our chief patrons are women. We
have no mule calUrs for siiul' ut all. The
men chew tobacco instead. tf coursq
no woman buys the snull for herself.
The purchase is made for a neighbor or
a friend. I have heard women complain
of the stuff, which they said they were
buying for another woman. The habit,
I understand, is very fascinating, and
when once begun is more binding than
either chewing tobacco or smoking. Iu
its strength to enslave the will it ap
proaches the power of narcotics."
per anj