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BF. SOHWEIER, THE OOISTITTJTIOI-TEB UU0I-1ID THE UTOEOEHEIT OP THE LATTS. Editor and Proprietor.
i ii i . '.
VOl,. XL. MIFFLINTOWN, JUNIATA COUNTY. PENNA.. WEDNESDAY. FEBRU ARY 17, 18S6. NO. 8.
No GutKl-iiigltt Kim.
A tbree-yrar maid, of baby charmt,
Epitome of bliss.
At close of da j to mother' arms
Came for her good-night kiss.
"Tou were a naughty girl to-day,
Who would not do the right;
The little girl who can't obt?y
I caunot kiss good-ntght!"
Tbe little mouth, it trembled so;
The bright eye held a tear;
She raid, "but jvt Kill kiss km, though
In the morning, mama, dear?"
"Yes, in the morning, when tou call."
Ah! childish grief are deepl
She turned her (air face to the wall
And wept herself to sleep.
She woke not liere: Death called her name,
To wake in Il- aven instead:
And when, at dawn, tbe mother came,
She found her darling dead.
0 mother-heart! thy wrong confessed.
What is thine anguish now?
She clasped the dead face to ber breast,
Kl-soU lips and eyes and brow.
0 grleTing heart! What can atone?
Mothers, remember this:
Send no child to sleep's land unknown
Without a good-night kiss.
SO BODY'S SOX.
jes, Aorjoay's.xmi iou lave Known
Aim in bis prosperity, though you may
not be aware of it; but of tbe struggles
of bis boyhood you know nothing. The
bottle stands; pass it. Permit me to
tell you bis story, gentlemen.
A ragged Ltd, tr-jure and grimy, be
stood in a doorway almost too low to
admit bim, and inside there was writ
ten "poverty, hunger, and dirt." The
boy's eyes wandered iu a hopeless man
ner from a slatternly woman crouch ins
over the hearth, to the figure of a man
lantern-visaged, hollow-eyed, who lean
ed against the doonost beside bim.
"Will, my lad, dost hear?"
"Ay. But where am I to go to?"
"Where thee likest. Come, out with
thy fist; there's three bob, and I ca-i ill
spare it. Xow, go thy ways; be honest
and dont lie; but remember that we
have done with thee for all evers."
Tbe lad lock the money and turned
away. In a few minutes be came back
again.
"Give me a name," he said, looking
up into the man's sallow face, "every
doz has a name."
"But every brat picked up in tbe
gutter hasn't."
Suddenly the woman rose up from
ber crouching posture, and came for
ward. "J bad a name once, so long ago that
it's well nigh forgot Dunna send the
lad away, John; I picked bim up, and
he's crowed to my heart's Kkt. Dunna."
"Bother!" returned ber husband.
Who's to fill his mouth and cover his
back? Cut! be off.' march!"
"I've not got a friend in the world!"
cried out the lad, as be trudged through
the muddy bines which led from bis
old home "not one in the world." And
tbe rain that pattered down from the
housetops repeated it doggedly, "Xot
one!"
"I'm all in rags and dirt," be said,
as he reached the broader street) and
stared about bim, and a peal ot bells
rung out and echoed it merrily, "Kags
and dirt, rags and dirt!"
"Cut, be off, march!" repeated the
boy. "But where shall I march? Every
body's busy here, there's no room foi
me. What am I to do?" He passed a
pastrycook's shop tempting and rich
he was hungry, and his fingers wan
dered to tbe shilling') in bis pocket
wistfully. All at once an idea came to
him, and bis eyes glistened.
One poor little marble table stood in
a dim corner, but it did Lot seem to at
tract any one much.
"Now, my boy. What is it?"
"That un, and that un, and this un,'
said the bid, indicating with a singu
larly dirty finger the particular dainties
he wished to stow away.
"I say, you move off. AViil you? I'll
teach you to finger things here, you
dirty young rascal. March!"
He held out his shillings despairingly.
"Oh! that's another thing," said the
man. "Come, say what you want, but
keep your fingers off."
"Give us one in," said tbe ltd,
watching with his anxious eye every
delicacy put into the little basket. "I
want to sell 'em."
The man looked at bim and laughed,
but one more pitiful come up and look
ed at him too.
"Give him some," be said, angrily.
'You know the price if he's going to
sell."
The young merchant left tbe shop
with a sob still sticking In bis throat,
lie tramped the streets and pushed his
basket at the passers by, some gave him
an angry look, some a poke with a stick
or a sharp-pointed elbow. Two cakes
be had sold realizing tbe sum of three
halfpence, when he sat himself down on
the steps of St. Faul'3 Cathedral, and
gradually as the sun grew bot and hot
ter, his head dropped lower and he
slept
An hour afterwards, the same ragged
urchin darkened the door of the pastry
cook's shop, where the one inaible table
stood still desolate in its corner.
"What, here again, my fine fellow?
Come, off with you; march!" It was
very odd. "March!" had been ringing
in his ears all day. and here it came
again. Was everybody going to tell
him to march, and where on earth was
he going to march to?
Great tear-marks covered his face,
red and smudged with dirt, as he turn
ed towards his former advocate.
"I went an sl-p. and somebody's gone
and prigged 'em." It seemed as if the
perpetual "march" were comiug from
bis mouth too, but the owner thereof
changed his mind, and examined the
face with its grimy tear-marks.
"Wboare vou? What's vour name?"
"Xame, Johu."
"John what?" asked the man.
"Mm march," stammered the lad
looking round despondingly; lor be had
a misty sort of idea that it was a hang
ing matter to have no name, and that
was the only one he could thing of.
"John March, where 's your lather?"
"Xowheres."
"Your mother?"
"Ain't got none,"
"Whose son are you?"
"Nobody's."
"Wtjre did you get that money?"
"It vi given me by them as picked
me up a little 'un and can't keep me no
longer: indeed it was."
A fresh burst of sobs followed this
speech, am. when the questioner put a
fresh basket of eatables into tbe dirty
hand held out to receive it, they came
faster than ever, for the lad didn't
know what to say he was so glad. He
was told that be must come back and
pay his debts when tbe basket was
empty, which be promised, with a cu
rious mixture of sobs aud chuckles.
, John March did come back, holding
the money in his band and tn-innlnir
He replenished his basket: he came
again, day after day; he brought a
larger basket and a cleaner face; be was
getting on. in spite or tbe rain which
pattered down "no friend, not one" in
spite of the bells that clamored out.
rags and dirt, rags and dirt," he was
getting on. Out of the pocket of his
ragged jacket peered a ragged spelling
book; at corners of streets, on steps, at
crossings, he studied it. He was get
ting on.
For a while we will leave John March
with his basket and the ragged books
in nis cneeriess lodging. We will go
oacK a uttie and enter a very different
scene; light and warmth meet us. com
fort and luxury have made their abode
here, in this room where a man in the
prime of bis life sits, dressing-gowned
and slippered, before bis desk. But no
pleasant thoughts are passing through
his mind, and it is with ber he is angry
Why, to him she is a child still, a mere
infant, bow dare she t' ink of such
things as falling in love and marriage?
How dare she suffer tbe young spend
thrift vagabond to speak to.hiui on the
suojecir
"When, after all these years of care,"
goes on tbe father, his tone deepening,
"all this painstaking, toiling early and
late, with the happiness of my child
near to my heart, hoping for it, yearn-
ing after it, this beardless rake comes
forward to demand my purse, and I am
to say calmly. 'Take it. with ray bles
sing!" When I have listened to the
voices of my mills, aud thought bow
pleasantly they sang, hoping always
she bids me give them up. and what
they have brought me, for this spend
thrift suitor to make ducks and drakes
of. Xever, never never. .Listen to me.
and understand, lou see this niau
no more; you never take so much as his
name up n your bps.
There came a faint cry from the pale
girls lips as she stood there a moment
uncertain. Bending before him till
ber hair touched the hand wandering
so restlessly amongst the papers, she
strove to take it in her own and plead
with him; but be drew it back coldly
ana nastily.
"Once more," sobbed tbe girl; "only
let me see bim once more to say good-
Dye."
"Still for bim!" called out the mill-
owner, bitterly. "Pleading for him I
am nothing; this is gratitude and duty.
l say to you see bim no more.
So be turns to bis desk again, know
ing net la it trial and temptation are
about bis daughter, that the voice of
ber lover is in her ear, pleading with
her, urging her to fly with him.
How can she listen? Oh. but she
loves him. she loves him! and it so hard
to think of never seeing bim again,
never bearing bis voice. It is so hard
to have no one to love!
Aud be tells her that when they are
married they will come back, and be so
submissive that he cannot fall to for
give. Tbe old tale, the old music, and
she loves bim.
Think of it now, old man, silting
alone in the midst of riches; think of it
as you consult the watch and look
around you. Yes, you are right; it
grows late, bedtime; but there is no
gentle good night for you, no kiss for
you to-night, but that sorrowful one
which trembled on the band which
holds the watch-key. Oh, put it to
vour lips for the memory of that kiss.
for those pleading tears, for the wistful
eyes! iiimk or it now!
Jn his old lodging, retained perhaps
from the force of habit, perhaps be
cause he liked to think of those first
days of struggle and failure, hope and
fear. John March sat with his lamp a
twisted wick of paper floating on oil in
a cracked teacup and bis books. This
lodging is a room, with five so-called
beds and accommodations for ten lodg
ers; but he had portioned off his own
particular corner with tattered sheets,
paying double for it; and keeping it to
himself, study and sleeping-room in
one.
Sitting there however to-night over a
worn history for tbe spelling-book had
been superceded long ago John March
grew restless. In the bed nearest his
corner there was a moaning sound,
coming at intervals, feeble and despair
ing. John couldn't stand this; be
drew aside his curtain and looked out.
Scantily clothed, but yet in remnants
of a richer time, pale, hollow-eyed, mere
sat a woman, who looked at him even
as he looked at ber, but there was only
misery in her eye.
John came out from his retreat.
' AVas she ill?" She shook ber head
drearily. "Could be do anything for
her, get anything?"
"Xo."
"There is plenty of misery here,"
said John, "but yours seems a bad case.
Can't you trust me?"
The woman turned ber large eyes up
on him wistfully. "Here is my sick
ness," she said, turning down the cor
ner of a ragged cloak of fine cloth which
she had taken from ber own shoulders.
Under it, gathered close to her heart,
lay a sleeping child some six or seven
years old.
John touched the warm, rosy cheek
compassionately, aud put off a brown
curl that was straying across it
"It is all over with me," said the
woman. "I am dying but this is worse
than death."
"I am but a poor lad," said John,
straugely touched by the soft tones and
gentle speech so new to him. "but I
am honest, indeed. Tell me about it,
and see if I can't do something."
The woman put out her left band,
where glittered in tbe rays of his lamp
the wedding-ring. Cautiously she put
it out and then covered it up again.
"It is the only thing I have left; I
couldn't pawn that. Yes, I will tell
you all, for I am dying. I have known
that long; but to night it is near near.
Liften. then!"
Tbe wick floats on its oil and grows
dim, but dawn is breaking for the hol
low eyed woman whose head falls back
on John's arm, whose fading sense re
ceives his promise to care for the little
one sleeping on quiet and unconscious
while her mother dies.
Think of it, now. oh, maa of mills
and ledgers, think of it!
"But," says John in a startled whis
per, "the name, the name, how am I
to And out "
A raint light comes into tbe glazing
eyes and a movement to tbe blue lips.
"Seek out a mill owner, named '
Xo more, John, the light Is come,dawn
has broken. Shut up the eyes tenderly
lay her back gently to rest ia her rags,
and take the sleeping child from her
bosom.
And John rose from beside the dead
slowly, his heart touched, his nature
soitened. He had to consider about bis
stock of mosey in the hands of that first
benefactor in the pastrycook's shop,
who had never lost sight of bim, nor
ceased to befriend bim: he had to think
whether be bad been foolishly weak
and thoughtless; he had to seek his
landlady and leave the child in her
charge, promising payment, till he
could seek out his friend and take coun
sel. A trusty counsellor that green one
or the pastrycook's, a loving heart in
side its plain case, a true and stead
fast friend. Ohl there are good hearts
in this world of ours that men call so
bad, staunch hearts and kindly, ready
to sorrow for another's grief, ready to
lend a helping hand to the fallen.
With this friend's help, a home was
fonnd for the child, and burial for its
mother; with his help John's hands
were strengthened and his will con
firmed to care for the orphan as a sis
ter, with bis help, efforts were made to
find out tbe mill-owner, but they were
unsuccessful.
We let the years pass .in, while the
ragged books give place t better ones.
secondhand, but good and clean; while
the lodging is changed, and John March
has passed, with his friend's help, from
an errand boy to a clerk in a merchant's
office. But John was restless, a bad
sign, said bis friend. Xot so. He bad
a wish to go amongst the manufactur
ers; be bad heard of "Wanted a clerk.
in a mill-owner's counting-house; and
his friend, knowing his meaning shook
bis bead in compassion for a hopeless
case.
He got the clerkship, however and
then his l ttle sitter was taken from
the cheap schools where she had been
Hitherto, and placed in a higher one.
John's wants were few, and littls suf
ficed for them. His first interview
with his new master was not in the
counting-house,but in bisowndrawlng
room, a gorgeous place, where luxury
and riches stared at hi in as an intruder
and askod what he wanted there. And
the great chief of the firm, a white-haired
man, morose and gloomy, questioned
lnni, and read bis reference and testi-
onials. Such a clmd hung about tbe
man. such a heavy, oppressive air there
was in the rich hangings, and the mas
sive splendor of the pictures and mir
rors, that a weight passed from the
clerk's heart as he left the room and
breathed the fresh air out jide.
But it needed all John's hopeful
spirit to make light work of this. The
very business seemed to have no life in
it; tbe counting house labored under a
cloud, the books, the stools, tbe win
dows themselves looked dead; nothing
was alive but tbe mice, and even they
seemed to scamper about more softly
when the bead himself entered.
John worked on steadily in the cloud
now and then going to see his little
sister in her school; and the mill-owner
cold eye marked out his habits with ap
proval, lie rose: be dropped tbe word
clerk for manager. He talked a little
with his chief and with others; he was
observant and thoughtful, taking note
of things which would seem to have no
interest for him.
It was strange how, looking from
time to time upon tbe mill-owner in bis
dead atmosphere, and working on in
the cloud, the idea rose in John's mind
and grew up till it presented Itself to
him its a tangible fact, that bis search
was ended here, his aim attained. So
strong was this conviction, that if bis
principal had suddenly said In his ear
the words to verify it, he would have
felt no surprise, but have taken them
as natural and words of course. And
sitting there, working out his idea,
while his nngers were busy, no wonder
tilled his mind when there fluttered
down before bim, from leaves so little
akin to it, a scrap of paper yellow and
musty, and the delicate lines traced en
it faiut with age.
"U e only beg for forgiveness. If you
would but believe this, my dear father
I ask nothing more; I love you so much
1 feel so deeply how wrong I have been.
ly take off the heavy consciousness
of your displeasure only say you for
give." There lay the conviction which bad
been growing within bim, verified.
l ben John March left the counting-
bouse; bouse roofs lowered down about
bim, grey in the evening light; men and
woman talked, and he heard them, and
It seemed as if in all the great world
none had so hard a thing to do as he
had.
It was ten vears now since the hol
low-eyed woman lay quietly back in her
rags to rest in the cheerless lodging,
and Sohn March went again to see bis
little sister. He stoed with her on the
hearth, her hand in his and her bead
on his shoulder; for she called him
brother, and knew no better. He drew
back bis hand and put away tbe stray
curl that fell across ber cheek, as it bad
done that night ten ytlrs ago.
'Emmy, little one,"
Yes John."
'You are old enough, now, to leave
school."- She nodded, gravely, but did
not speak. "1 must take you home."
"Where is that?"
'I have something to tell yoj.
Emmy."
She looked at him, wondenngly.
smiling a little at his grave seriousness.
But be raised her bead from his shoul
der, still gravely looking into the fire.
'Emmy, I am not your brother."
She drew back from him then in
earnest, pale and red by turns, half
hoping be jested with her.
It is true," said John.
"What are you, then?"
"Nothing. I am no relation to yon."
"Xo relation! Xothing! Ohl John."
Tears gathered slowly in ber eyes as
she looked at him; they rolled down
ber cheeks and fell silently. Still look
ing away from ber, he put out bis band
but Emmy did not move.
"Xo relation nothing I And you
have been so good all I have in the
woiU. I cannot bear it."
"You do care for me, then?" said
John.
"Care for youl" she replied. "Ohl I
do, I do. Ought not I to care for you
my brother r iei me can you my
brother."
'Call me your friend," said John,
holding out bis band, and clasping fast
the little one placed in it.
'But I want my brother," said
Emmv. "How can I do without my
brotVr?'
He passed his band over the brown
head gently; he bent down and kissed
her forehead tenderly as a brother
might do.
"Come, then, Emmy," said he.
"Where?" she Inquired.
"You must trust raj," said John.
'Your brother still, if you wi 1 have it
so. I am going to take you noma, and
on tbe way you shall hear all I have, to
tell."
In the room where the millowner
sits the cloud hangs heavily. You may
see it in the sombre shadows, in tfhe
solemn upngat candies, in tbe st
oia nana ciasping nis crow, while foe
ara
other rests on his desk. Tan may see
it in the hair, blanched but dull, in tbe
overhanging brows, in the hard lines
about the mouth, in the stiff chair, the
straight uncrossed legs and slippered
feet.
There was a time when a touch on
his hand, Itears, a loving kiss, bad no
power to move him. lie feels them
now they burn aim, thev worry bim.
He strikes tbe hand in his angry self-
reproach or his pride. He bears tbe
sob, the pleading voice he hears the
rustle of her dress as she moves away.
and be turns to watch the door open
and shut after her. Where is she?
There was a time when letters came
to him one after another, tear-blistered
blotted. What bad he done with them?
How cold the room is how dull tbe
light! How heavily the cloud gathers
down about bim! bow his money rises
np before him! bow the- spectre bills
and bonds dance and flutter before his
eyes, and heaps of yellow sovereigns
glitter down there amongst the coals to
mock bimi So heavy is the cloud this
evening, that he bears sounds faintly
through it-approaching footsteps which
pause at the door footsteps which en
tera voice which speaks to him, stir
ring the mist but faintly.
John March, the manager, is there
before bim. Away all tbe spectres!
business. How cold the room is!
how dull and hard his eye, as he turns
to his manager!
"I have asked to speak to you at an
unusual hour," be?an John aud the
great man waved bis band as an ac
knowledgment of the crime, and a gra
cious pardou for it " at an nnusual
hour, for my business is unusual. I
have that to tell which may interest
you. Will you hear me?"
A little raising to the heavy eyelid,
a little dilating ot the leaden nostril,
and the great man bows bis assent, and
points to a chair. Xo.'John will stand.
"Years ago, be says, "when I was
obscure and ienniless, when I had In
the world only bop3 and courage,
when I had for longing a wretched
room, where night after mzht others,
obscure aud penniless to, stretched
themselves on tbe floor to rest as they
could, and where often a brother or a
sister crawled in only to die" (here
there was a slight change of position in
the leaden man, and a gesture of im
pailence) "there came to this place of
wretchedness," continued John,
watching him, "a woman, faiut and
worn, old in looks but young in years,
rags to cover her, despair to nourish
her. Prom her finger she held it out,
the golden circlet rolled,, and would
have fallen but for her jealous care of
it, so wasted were those fingers. I did
what I could."
Another impatient gesture and a
smothered ejaculation.
"She bad come from Italy, working
her way back as she could, for her
husband was dead. She told me how
the marriag-e was a stolen one; bow she
left her father's house stealthily by
night, bow she reiented, and wished to
tell bim so; how she wished to tell him
that even at that mad hour, with her
lover's voice iu ber ear, pleading, the
remembrance of a kind word from him
would have held her back."
He paused for tbe leaden mau start
el to bis feet, trembling, with tbe cloud
about him still.
"Give me my daughter," said be.
"I would give you " continued
JoliD.
"Silence! Give me my daughter,
repeated the old mau iu his shaky voice.
A Mightier has claimed ber. On
her rag bed, in the desolate room," said
John, looking upon tbe luxuries around
bim, "a stranger's hand supported her
at last. On my arm ber head fell back
when there was no more breath, nor
yearning after pardon. Hear me yet"
(for the old mau bad sunk upon bis
chair again, and was motioning him
away.) "Under the cloak, taken from
her own poor shoulders, covered up,
warm and healthy, there was something
else a child, a daughter."
"Give ber to me!" exclaimed tbe old
man. "How dare you all these years
keep it from me? How dare you "
"A momeut more." interrupted John
looking at the fire, and it was curious
that the leaden man's eyes took the
same direction. All these years I have
been seeking you. Tbe child knew
nothing of her mother's story. I took
ber, sir,' as my sister; I left her at a
school, a good one, lit for ber; she loves
me as her brother, she '
"Give her to me!" repeated the old
man.
"Hear me but another moment,"
said John. "I want no thanks for
what I have done. I am not rich, I
am obscure and nameless; but I will
make a n imf. I will toil for wealth
and win it. Oh listen to me; and think
of your own youth think what we
have been to each other, my heart is
bound up in her."
He bent bis head low, looking away
from the glance that met his; for in it
there was scorn, and anger, and defi
ance. Still they stood there silent, op
posite each other, listening to the foot
steps which sounded now outside
listening to the low knock and lie
srentle voice listening to the turn of
the lock, the opening door, the rustling
dress.
There seemed to stand then before
the old man's eyes the same light form
and wistful face he bad been dream
ing of, the same earnest glance, but
filled with a wondering light as it fell
upon them both.
"I had a daughter once." said the
mill-owner, put'.ing out his band over
the fair he:id, "but she forgot her duty
and has been forgotten in her turn.
This child has come to make amends
for her mother's disobedience. I bid
her welcome. "
He let bis band sink down upon the
brown head; he drew her towards him,
and put his lips upon her forhead. And
all tbe while he was thinking of his
great name and his riches, and wishing
the girl had been a son to enter Into
partnership with him.
"I will make her my heiress," he
said; "she shall take my name, and we
will look about for one fit to be Iter
husband."
But she turned to John hastily, and
sought to bring them together.
'My brother is here, too," she said
wistfully.
'For that man," said her grand
father, "for the nameless man, the ob
scure clerk, who has dared to presume
on his services to insult me, let bim
name his price for what he has done."
"Oh! no, nol" cned out the girl,
starting away from the hand which
held her. "John, oh, dear John for
give him. John don't leave me.
It was good to see bow she clung to
htm, and he put his arm about her ten?
der'.yj bow he comfoit id her and called
ber his best beloved, his treasure, there
before the old man, who bad no power
to prevent it; how he toll hr they
must part for the present, but better
times would come, and they would
never forget each other; how he put
ber away from him gently and bade ber
i i i a . i l l
hope on, as he would to the end. and.
come what may, they should meet again.
Then without a word to the mill-' Ciccsus was a King of Lydia, who,
owner, looking to the last on the treas- oy a lavish display of his wealth, got
nre be left, John March, the manager his name in the papers. Historians
was gone. disagreed in regard to the manner in
Gone to seek out fresh work, alone, ' which-he laid the foundation of his for
missing the charge he had hked to think tune, but it is known beyond dispute
of at her school; dreaming now and that be did not lay it filling a long felt
then of something to be done for her, want with an eight page morning paper
and rousing op to the . remembrance in a back county town,
that there was no longer any one de-' Crce3us had a father, which did not
pendant upon him, no longer any one surprise him when he heard of it, whose
to work for. i bonds were registered in the name of
j Alyattes. Alyattes was a frugal old
When one fixed idea takes possession kiug who never taxed his people more
of a man it is strange how it grows and thaa eighty-four cents on the dollar of
hardens, and becomes the moving prin- the assessor's valuation, ne took his
ciple of his life. All the changes that son Croesus into partnership in the
have taken place, since John March reigning business, which was paying
the manager left him. have but thick- very well in those days, and as first
ened the mist that hangs bitween the assist King Croesus was quite a success
mill-owner and his kind. "All these from tbe start. Alyattes was getting
weary months, years," thinks the litt!t old and gouty and tired, so be turned
one who watches him, sometimes sor- the work pretty much over to Croesus,
rowfully, "have but made him harder but continued to take the bigger part
as well as older." of the profits. Alyattes took great
His white head is whiter; there is a interest in his income and held on to a
stoop in his shoulder, there is a queru- dollar with a beautiful and impressive
lous infirmitv about his speech, and bis grip.
walk is unsteady and weak. But if It wa3 during this partnership
ever he was the poteut h"ad of the firm between Alyattes and his promising
the great man, bearing a wide-known and industrious son that one of the
came, he Is now more so. i humorists of the day remarked in an
In her seat at the fireside, silent and unguarded moment that "Lydia had a
meditative, Emmy has no thought now pair or Kings that generally took the
of loving him or making him love her; pot" The humorist died next morn
once she tried, but all bis heart was ing by request at 9.30 o'clock,
wrapped in his great name. He brought ! During his active career Alyattes by
before ber a b'lsband, whom he willed close attention to business and his ready
her to accept, to whom he offered her and vigorous grip, laid by a neat sum
pompously as one who had a right to far a reigny day. and when be closed
doit; but Emmy laid her head upon bis labors with a funeral in the year 003
ber hands, and said quietly that she B. C. be left Croesus in very comfort
would die first, jable circumstances. It is said, how
He takes out his watch and winds it; ever, that when Cioeus looked over the
he glances at the fire, and murmurs
that it is chilly; he says it is bedtime.
and Emmy goes np to him, and puts
her Iip3 to bis cheek, mechanically, with
the customary good night.
He s.ts there awhile musing. AH
is still aud secure about bim; buc who
knows how thick the clouds are getting
over L Is head, or bow soon they shall
burst down urton him and overwhelm
him? All the while he sits there they
am darkening ail thn wbiln ho !m un.
conscious in his bed they are covering
the sky as they do in Joue before a
thunderstorm. A little bit of blue re-
mains, faint and lessening; when that
is gone let bim beware.
Another day, with its fresh load of
work for the workman, another dawn
over the earth. A great blow has and murdered ana piunuerea ana conns
stricken the millowner; shortly, those I cated with a grace and dignity of man-
who look down the list of bankrupts
wiil see the well-known name he ws
so proud of, give him a word of sur-
prise and compassion, and pass on about
their own affairs. And if you go iuto
the great man's bedroom, you will see
that there is no more blue sky for him.
Stretched on bis bed he lies, helpless
and speechless, and one-half of him is
dead.
A sad time in that house, a sad time
for a little one who watches at his bed
side. She thinks now that she could
love him ir he would let her, even yet.
she is so sorry for him. When his
senses come back partially, aud he tries
to speak, with strangs contortions, her
arm pillows his bead, her hands minis
ter to his wants, and when he looks at
her with his hard eyes so earnestly,
with such a painful meaning, she strives
to comlort him, and bids bim rest and
get better, and all will yet be well.
"She is his own child, she will never
leave him."
But it is not that, ob, not that which
troubles bim a3 he sinks back with a
groan of pain and anger. His lips will
not frame the questiou which ho longs
and dreads to ask. His name, his great
name, and his riches was it all a dream
or did some one tell bim that the new
manager had ruined him, ruined him
utterly ?
Draw aside tbe curtain, he is speak
ing; he whispers something. "But what
a look there is iu his face, as the doc
tor bends over him,
"Djctorl that villain! vengeance!"
How last the watch ticks; bow the
doctor's eye keeps on the patient; and
bow that look changes, and shadows
come upon the face. How the hand
clasps aud unclasps, stretching out af
ter something which it cannot reach.
Another whisper, but, oh! the look
n the unclosed eyes now.
"Doctor, doctor, what is it, what Is
coming? I feel it upon me heavy, like
the clamping of a strong box. Bring
her to me. Oh, Emmy! I forgive him;
save me."
Once Emmy is suffered to bend down
and kiss him. On ber knees she clings
to his hand, and ber tears fall upon it i
thick and fast, and she kisses it Look
ing at bim there; seeing the shadow on
his face; seeing that which cone can
mistake so powerful is it, so wither
iug, so solemn she falters out trembl
ing, 4,Our Father."
In whispers he follows her, catching
for utteiance, fixing his eyes upon her,
as though sifety lay in that. And i
then the doctor puts her
away gent-
ly and closes the door.
The Great House is dead, and the
world says a few words over its ashes
and forgets it. But, who was to com
fort little Emmy, left alone there with
the dreary weight upon her in the dark-'
ened bouse? little Emmy, so grieved
for tbe old man who was asleep quietly
in the churchyard?
In the room where the cloud had
been so heavy where the desk still stood
in its wonted position; where the foot
stool on the hearth spoke of her usual
seat, the little one rose up to meet and
welcome him whom she called brother.
But be asked for a dearer title.
Gentlemen, my happiness, and grati
tude for it, are yet too fresh to speak
cf. As a prosperous merchant you
know me. Some amongst you, young
men, still struggling perhaps and rind
ing up-hill work, I have heard speak
despairingly of success, hopelessly of
their own efforts, harshly and bitterly
against their fellow men, as though
they bore a universal grudge whicn
cannot be shaken.
I have told this story, if haply it may
carry encouragement to any heart that
is faint m its work. This is not a bad
world; there are in it good men and
true, kind aud friendly spirits, ready t
help a failing brother. I like to think
so, I have found it so.
Gentlemen, my wife, Emm)', has not
long left the table; allow me to present
to you John March, tbe pauper, tbe
ragged cake venipr Xobodit's Sox.
i
"A cigar" remarked old Topco',
"is like an advertisement; the less n
costs, tbe more puffing it want?."
Apropos of the encore fiend, it will
be just like bin, when the last trump
shall sound to demand a repetition.
CRCESCS OP LYDIA.
$ome or the Characteristic of the
Ancient Millionaire.
undertakers mil ana saw now mucn it
; cost to bury a great man be was taken
; with a severe chill and therefore
' dreaded death as long as he lived.
I Immediately after the funeral of his
father Cicesus opened business at the
old stand in his own name. He
thanked the public for past favors and
ventured to hoi for a continuance of
i the same. He announced that there
I would be no change in the policy of the
' administration, save that he might have
to advance the tax rate. When busi
ness got a little dull in Lydia, Croesus
i decided to extend bis trade to some of
the adjoining counties. I or a time he
did a thriving business. He put him-
self at the head of an army and
pranced out into new fields ana .obbed
ner which won mm tne aamirauon or
! all competitors. When be covered the
j wealth of a neighbor or personal friend
be did not get up any soit of stock
: company or other high-toned scheme
' and invite his neighbor and personal
' friend to come in on tbe ground floor.
1 He just went after the wealth, killed
his neighbor or personal friend, so that
I he might not come to want and be
j wealth home with bim. This rlan
saved 'a great deal of talk and the
! robbed rr-in a great deal of worry and
: loss of sleep.
When Croesus had gathered in about
all the wealth of the thirteen adjoining
counties, more or less, he felt tolerably
well fixed for a time, but yet too poor
to have a Dret-class, high-toned funeral.
He believed, however, that his wealth
would allow hin to spend some weeks
at a Florida health resort, if he could
get half rates on account of the profes
sion. But about this time Cioems heard
that Cyrus was running an opposition
business in bis line over at Media, and
be decided, on the impulse of the
moment, to go over to Media and see
Cy.
He found Cy at home. Cy was glad
to see him, too, and did all he could to
give Ciceius a lively and impressive re
ception, wuue tne intercnange oi
greetings was going on between this
fine pair of Kings, Croesus suddenly re
membered that be bad come away with
out his umbrella, and as there were in
dications of a storm, he started back
toward Lydia as fast as he could travel.
Cyrus came right after bim. Cyrus
was a social sort of King and didn't
want Croesus to go away mad. He was
afraid he had hurt the feelings of his
visitor iu some way, and he desired to
overtake bim and learn the cause of his
extreme haste.
Cyrus followed Croeius all the way to
Lydia, and when he bad gone there he
liked the country and the climate so
well that he decided to stay awhile and
rest. He said he needed a great deal of
rest because he had to travel very fast
to keep in sight of Croesus.
Cyrus was a humorist in his way. aud
while he was resting in Lydia he decided
to play a joke of Cioesus by burning
bim at a stake, but at tbe last moment
! he changed his mind and bad his hired
I man read four hundred and thirty pages
' of the Congressional Record of tbe coun-
try to Croesus. Strange to say, and to
the great surprise of Cyrus. Croesus
'survived. But be waj never after ards
the bright and joyous man be was before
Cyrus trifled with bis feelings in such a
I shameful way.
Cyrus, who was now running the
government, liked Croesus so well after
he became well acquainted with bim
that he made him Assistant Secretary
of State. Cyrus took care of the
Treasury and attended to paying out
' all moseys himself.
Xot a Good Region Tor Settler.
Rear Admiral Bedford Pyni of the
British navy finds a plea for Artie ex
ploration in the Scriptural command to
multiply and replenish the earth. The
Admiral, however, would experience
some difficulty in greatly multiplying
the population of the globe in the
regions immediately around the poles.
Lieutenant Greely. who Is to lecture
before the Scotch "Geographical Society
recently, has, since his arrival in Eng
land, expressed grave doubts whether
the Xorth Pole will ever be Teached,
since he holds that the region there is
covered with ice many hundreds of feet
thick. It may be true, as Admiral Pyni
insists, that there is no Scrtptural war
rant for exempting any latitude from
the command delivered to Xoah and
his sons; but there can be no immediate
hurry for executing it in any region
like the one which embodies Lieutenant
Greely's idea of the pole.
"Is he really in love?"
"Is he? He is so much in love that
be has become a letter-carrier so he can
get to reading her lettters sooner. Be
sides, as letter-carrier he knows if she
is getting letters from any other feller.'
RAILROADS IX DISTANT LANDS.
Advent of the Locomotive Into Re
mote Parts of Asia and Africa.
By the completion bust Xoveniber ol
the railroad from Cape Town to the
South African diamond mines at Kim-
berley, steam cars have supplanted the
tiresome stages and the great ox wagons
or the Dutch and British traders for
about 700 miles along the direct route
toward the Zambesi. The advent of the
locomotive into the very region where
Maffatt and Livingstone lived among
benighted savages is not only an evi
dence of the substantial progress of
South Africa, but also illustrates the
impulse that is now moving civilized
nations to penetrate new fields of com
merce with railroads.
These enterprises seem to be justified
by similar ventures already completed.
South Africa's l.SttJ miles of lines, all
owned by Cape Colony, jaid all work
ing expenses and maintenance during
the first six months this year, and 3J
ler cent, to apply on the interest ac
count. The British Burmali railroiuls
returned 0 per cent, dividends last year,
and have paid a good interest since the
day they were oined. Gen. Strachey,
tbe greatest authority on Indian rail
roads, estimates that the benefits accru
ing from her railways to India amount
to over 30,000,OK) pounds sterling per
annum.
England's iron route from the Arabian
sea to Afghanistan has reached the
Quctta plateau through the Bolan pass.
The work on Russia's transcaspian road
is advancing day and night. It is now
approaching Merv, and Russia expects
to carry it on to Bokhara and Tasli
kend. For the purpose of giving facili
ties to her troops, England loaned the
money to Cai Colony with which the
railroad to Kimberley has just, been
completed.
From all corners of the world we are
hearing of railroiuls projected, surveyed,
or in course of building. In Venezuela,
for instance, eight or nine different
lines of greater or less extent are under
contract, surveys are in progress, grad
ing and track laying are considerably
advanced on two Hues, and are soon to
commence on others, Portugal has
grantpil a concession for the railroad
from LVIagoa bay in east Africa to the
Transvaal border to connect with the
Transvaal railroad which it Is reported
will be built by German crpital. The
more progressive among the Boers say
they must have railroad connection with
the sea. To its railroads is largely due
the fact tliat South Africa now stands
tenth on the list of the chief foreign
nations dealing with England.
It is in the Oriental world, however.
that new railroad schemes are mast
rapidly advancing. The king of Siam
is eager to connect his capital with the
rlitliinJA frrtntip In r-iil lino '
.v--v ik'iimii ii, nun tlii.1 jHJll-
ised to build this road if the Indian gov
ernment will build a rnaal tltmiirrb I'.nr-
mah to meet the Siamese system at the 1
frontier. The leading chamliers of j
commerce in Great Britain sent agents i
to n-jHirt tiKn the feasibility of this '
li'jc.i, tiuu .u- uaudi unit vonpi-
hoiui have returned home with enthus
iastic endorsements of the scheme. In
China the powerful viceroy, Li Hong
Chang, has for some time been urging
the need of railroads and telegraphs.
His influence, aided by the support of
other able statesmen, has already given
to China over 3,0m) miles of telegraphs,
manned by Chinese oiierators, and the
little nine-mile railroad near Tientsin,
and is paving the way for railroad
schemes that, it is believed, will in the
course of time reach a large develop
ment in China. The railroad that is to
connect the chief towns cf Siberia is
slowly advancing eastward, and surveys
for projected" lines are in pngress in
Asia Minor, tlie Euphrates valley, and
Persia.
Tremendous Se.is.
A dispatch from Hamilton, Beimml.i,
says: The American bark Idaho, Cap
tain Richardson, six days from Xew
York, liound to Cienfuegos with a
general cargo, arrived at this port in
tow of the tug Gladisfen. Captain
Richardson reports that she sailed from
New York on Wednesday, Jan. Cth.
On Friday, the Stb, a heavy gale arose,
which increased during that night and
Saturday, the sea running mountains
high and the vessel laboring heavily.
On Saturday at atout 4 P. M. a heavy
sea broke on loard. carried away the
mam pinrail covering loard and stripped
the star-board side from the forward
lart of the main rigging to the after
IKirt of the after house, leaving the
whole star-board side of the ship open
and exposed to the sea. The crew were I
set to work to nail canvass from the
outside of the ship up over the deck.
While this was being done the second
mate and one seaman were washed over
board of tbe port side of the vessel, but
were rescued. The same sea which
washed them off carried away a part of
the port rail. During the whole time the
puuil3 were manned and worked. On
Sunday the 10th, the weather continued
loisterous. The snip's jxwition by ol
servation was latitude 34- 2t', longi
tude 70 38'. The sea was running
very high, and the ship straining ami
leaking badly, At 9 A. M while all
hands were on deck fitting the topmast
staysail sheets, a tremendous sea broke
on board abaft the star-board fore-rigging,
carrying away everything it met
two boats off the house, cargo, der
rick, gangway bidder, hencoop, bin
nacle, the galley and all its contents,
with room occupied by the second mate
and cook. The starboard bulwarks and
stanchions were smashed, and covering
boards split from abaft the fore rigging
to the poop. The cook was washed
overboard, but managed to grasp the
rail forward and was rescued with diffi
culty. The deck load was jettisoned,
as it was washing about in all direc
tions, the main deck being full of
water. As the weather moderated the
wreck was cleared, and when the damage
was ascertained the captain decided to
bear up for Bermuda. On Monday the
weather moderated, and on Tuesday
morning Gibbs Hill lighthouse was
sighted.
Somebody has figured it out that the
United States, if as densely populated
as France, would contain a population
of 680,000,000.
There Is another effort to retire the
thieving trade dollar. If it stays an
other year, the American eagle will
sell himself for a buzzard.
"Xow, you young scamp," said
Binks senior, as he took hold of bis
youngest to give -him a "dressing,"
"ill teach you what is whatl' "Xo. j
papa," rpuea we incorrigible, - you u
teach ma which la switch."
NEWS IN BRIEF.
Xew dinner plates are square.
Bismark drinks beer out of a stone
mug.
The Trincess of Wales is said to be
incurlably deaf.
Two of Longfellow's daughters are
studying in England.
Tbe value of a male lion is $3,000
and a female $1,000.
The striped hvena, is rated at $5C0;
tbe spotted at SOO.
"Freddie Langtry," is the name of
a Boston Thomas cat.
California has 1,003,000 inhabitants
but only 900 churches.
There are nearly six thousand Am
ericans residing in Pari?.
It is said that Jay Gould's mortua
ry chapel will cost ;v,000.
In some parts of Kentucky water ia
used for drinking purposes.
The latest census gives lo00 squir
rels in Xew York Central Park.
Last year there were more deaUu
from the toy pistol than Irom cycloues.
It may be doubted if any man who
worked in the right way ever died of
work.
This year's crop or Rio coffee Is es
timated at from 3,000,000 to 3,o00,000
bags.
Judea pitch, which is found float
ing on the Dead Sea, is au excellent
fuel.
During the month of Octob?r twenty-one
new novels were publshed in
London.
There are more Roman Catholics In
Xew York city than in any other city
in the world.
In the Argentine Republic 14,300
men are now employed in railroad con
struction.
The late Governor Washburn of
Wisconsin left each of his children a
round million.
Mauch Chunk is pronounced Movk
Chunk, Tucson is Toos'n and Manitoba
is Maunetobah.
A fine specimen of the royal Ben
gal tiger is worth J.500; the female is
not so valuable.
Pilgrimages began with the pil
grimage of the Empress Helena to Je
rusalem in o..
Twenty cotton mills in Alabama
are paying an average ot fifteen per
annum in dividends.
Clasp or spring knives became com
mon In England about 1000, coming
originally horn Flanders.
The Japanese game of checkers is
so intricate that a mouth is often spent
in aeciuing one game.
A South Americau panther costs
$100 to $ J00. A malo is worth twice
as much as a female.
A man in Bethel, Conn., gave a
party on the 102 aniversary of his birth,
and died the next day.
Forty-flve thousand people were ar
rested in Paris last year. Six thousand
i f them were women.
The Agricultural Laborers' Un
ion, organized by Joseph Arch, has a
membership of 20,000.
It is said tliat the original walls of
London were built by Theodosius, the
Roman governor, in 37l.
An untrained elephant at the age
of 2S or 30 is worth $10,000, aud a per
forming elephant ? 15,000.
Senator Dan. W. Voorhees wears
three finger-ring i on his left hand and
carries a silver snuff box.
A calculation made at the Postoflice
Department shows only one registered
letter in every 13,000 is lost.
The most expensive drug now iu
the market is ergotinin; it costs $:.3.5 a
grain, or nearly $1"00 a pound.
The Japanese are teaching about 2 - "
000,000 children in their public schools
ou American and English systems.
The horse population of the United
States is now over 11,000,000, or about
one horse to every five human beings.
Seven great English trade unions
have spent in six years. $10,000,000 for
the defense, support and relief of men
out of work.
Victor Hugo's play of "Cromwell,"
which, though published in 1S27, has
never yet teen performed, is to be given
for the first time this winter at the
Odeon.
There are about 10,000 private cabs
plying for hire in the Paris streets, and
the drivers include persons of every
class cf society, from uufrocked priests
to broken-down cooks.
In England there are women's uni
ons of bookbinders, dressm.ikers, pow
erloom weavers, tailois, upholsterers, be
sides a Women's Trade Council. They
have a membership of about 3,000.
At Reddicb, Germany, 14,000 per
sons are engaged in making needles.
The total Production of needles In the
world is 2iJO,000,000 per week, or 10,
000,000,000 per year.
In England the great trades unions
are increasing in membership. In five
of them the number of members has
grown from 00,000 to 123,000 within
six years. Both their incomes and re
serves have doubled.
The trades councils in England and
Scotland are active and large. The
Loudon Council represents 14.SC4 ac
credited members. Glasgow has 12,000
members, Ediuburg 8.0C0, Manchester
0,000 and Bolton ti,0uO.
The Engineers' and Machinists'
Union has a membership of 50,000.
During tbe year 1S7'J, $700,000 were
paid out to members who were out of
work. In the past five years it has paid
for the same purpose $1,93-3,000.
E is much more u-?ed than any oth
er letter. For every 1,000 Es used in
speaking and writing there are 770 Is,
2i A3, 704 Js, 080 Sa, 072 Os, 0SJ Xs,
U4 J Hs, 520 R's, while all the others are
below 400. ending with 50 (H 40 Xs,
and 32Zs.
The returns of the census taken on
January 1, 1883, which have just been
published, show that the Empire of
Japan contained a population of 30,700,
100 made up of 18,598,008 males and
13,121,000 females.
The Romans maae expiatory sacri
fices at the end of every term of five
years, beginning at the term the last
census was taken 472 B. C. Tbe last
census wvs taken 74 B. C.
Tbe use of the phrase Brother Jon
athan to describe an American is said
to have come from Washington's reli
ance for advice on Jonathan Trumbull,
first Governor of Connecticut.
On the ostrich farm near Anaheim
Cab, ostrich chickens are being hatched
at the rate of one a da;. When they
come out of the shell they are nearly
the size of a half-grown duck. They
eat ravenously and grow very rapidly.
S
J.