I. llilCII , P. SCIIWEIER. THE COXSTITUTION-THE UNION-AND. THE ENFORCEMENT OF THE LAWS. Editor and. Proprietor- AINREME VOL. XUI. MIFFLINTOW. JUNIATA COTTNTY. PENNA.. WEDNESDAY. JULY 11. 1SSS. NO. 29. I Pros I I -ii 'Iit. . . : ri ' : r I y c. 1 w. : I li.. tn. . 1 1 r. :ttw V 1 11 .. I. I .11111., l.".....n,.,..o. iv.lr.'l, "In 'nM iADWAY'3 READY HE J irt in h.v f . . ' i . s .ill, 1 vir L i t , r..,w.. V ... . . , "'"tit. a V llt-s.lt K K i ts. llt'-lMltl(. Soljb, I I l.i f . ' .. I . u I. ......... " ..... , ... . , " . - .... ... . WANTED Atii.N r roiiTiiiscoj E-SIZECRAYONPiCTII . r. r- iiiiifn' 4 .. ...... niiuiai. A.wrei iianuii.il t iiDiisiiiiiifX l'rtit: 2H WiUvKf M'.. IHULAOfitj ORGANS. . . ... ..... r ' f ( mt i PIANOS. ' t :..- r .m-i... w N ; T -i.fi . -l I. '.,,, i .... RICTtDUNfCSTD v :.r ii otnr f All eon Dr. XjC: 1 n 15Jlflt.,l)olo-CaUohill,Pl: . . v.t. sa:e ill I t.uriann Alt bina t rnriiert 1 .1 Ml.. ill 'ninn': lau'tol y DRi To ' . 'H i nit ft mtauip. rr . ...... IDOHIi At NY U T5FF.N. OHIOJ T . this 1ihaa. 1 ' w uapir.niu. . fiction. i.oo. soidbj .X PLEASANT MEDIAL POM t I'LL BTAFF OF ENCEQ PHYSICIANS S I'linnMC DISEASES t -iiiiiy Treated wlltioo fiTHonal connnltatloo. iihkMm of tho patient hi 'In utioti. to tho prmct: f nmnli. nmilim-t for tP .;iRs.. uiiJ ti ri ..I mthin t!m easy n li-tant they niny nJ oii.Ntnnn im-lotin t l l. t. tn niw. o Tuf ., ... s.-r.t yon. wit out a::'i cumlniity. 4 ..iiTul-loii". r r,'J - ill., l.or-orMOtor !.. .... Iitaoniuia. u' i iTiMimitv. ?frn .1 II!.UllilV. r iin. n'lii. .:i''l. r. . ... . i, .-..!. ny ' , J. .!!!. Kti.UH . h'n in. I,t ,.r H I'T ii . no .jf our Trial w tn'if"""' "f l" ... ...... i. m. ourr .'rsiiliin ourr." ,. m m. ',. "!'' ino.l.-n.t.- H.1tlo. ., I I.,, wt l.-w ..!iinlTtn . , ii..mn for .MVMli. - M l.' II"' rj 1 ... ... liluU ll ntvrrll I V Hr. a n'. or - luj ,v i..MH"'i'";':';,V!liH . , r - nr.-.-t!n the ,l"m Ultwu to tcatj A rt,.MlttT. Pf Ill ".- -. ....... I .n.ii-tV. Iliiv h.-lv. Kk "" 'r a. in v. UK' !. r tl..- li.""'"-'1 ""'';, 111 r ."..-i.'.-r ."."f - i .1 t,, ni. nt t i.' J",,'t,'-i ,.f it:.- m.blo PI'.V.S . I, why y "IJ::..!.! ;,v,,.r,. outr.niiir. J " i ... h, nv ono houM , I ..ml T. t Of ,.r,i. tl.o know - ,", N nil ui.pa.-uot. rho HIT"" '.'TUlKilk " . or of ...iiKulUiUon. houia s y . ..rntPII ltflCIilj Mr Dos. X 1ot mj doe m beaatlfal dog, Br and lrt for a race; Ready to frolic with baby or man; Xinifld. too, m bis place. I Ilka bta bark, a resonant bark. Musical, honeat, and dsep; And bis swirling tail and Lis shagay coat And bia euddou, powerful leap. Ota, nerer a corpulent pan for me, Kor a Spit with treacueroua anapl xieTer a trembling, pattering bound, Nor a poodle to lire on my lap! Ko aott-llnl basket for bed baa Jack, Nor bib, nor luxurious plate; But the dooratep brown, tbat be guards so well. And the lawn are his royal state. No dainty leading-ribbon of silk Mjr grand, good dog shall fret; No golden collar needs he, to show He" a Terj expenslr ret; But just my loving rolce for a chain. Ills bound at my slightest sign. And the faith when we look In each otber's eyes. Proclaim that my dog U mine. He'll never be carried tn arms like a babe. Nor be dragged like a toy. all a-curl; For be prouuly knows he's a dog, does Jark, And I'm not that sort of a gtrU WHAT THE OCEAN' DID. It was a brlgM, cheery day a day whrn singing birds, whispering trees, and pUying sunshine should liaye In spired all hearts wllh gladsome mirth and poetic musings, and yet Louisa Fair bad a womanly fit of the blues regular and unadulterated blues. SLe felt rebtlesaly unhappy, thoroughly de spondent ay a uope!e.s.sy miserable, and yet the most critical research could not detect the lent shadow of a reason for ail this m!.-ery. Hut that the cause was invisible made the fact none the less a mioeiut le fact; and so she went on, most-unreasonably having the blues the very worst way. She tr.ed to work them off 1 y out-d xir ezercis , but this fulling, and having learned by expe rience that so'itu)e and an Interesting book, If she could manage to get Inter ested. w;w tle Lest panacea for these moods, she tetired to her own room. Louise had come from San Fran cisco down to her aunt's country seat at Santa Cruz, to spend a few weeks during the hoi summer months. Her aunt, Mrs. Wlnalow, always bad at this seas4i of the year, her bouse full of friends and acquaintances who, by the kind Invitation of the bost and hostess of Shady Ilia, bad come to spend a few weeks In pure country enjoyment, in preference to going to some f.usliionable springs where one endures more annoyance than undis turbed comfort. But what made Louise have the blues i No one could tell; in fact, she could not Lave told herself. It was one of those strange feelings which come over one at times, and one cannot tell bow tiiey come, or what la the cause. Everything seems dark, and life does'it seem worth living; a sort of Inanimation pervades the whole sys tem, foreboding thoughts crowd upon one another, and it requires a great deal of will force to become cheerful. and to throw off such depressing feel ings. Louise looked beautiful as she sat by ber room window, dressed in a dress of pure white, ber bead having a majestic carriage, ber face bearing a very thoughtful expression, and her abundant, rich black balr plainly twisted. As she sat by the window her chin resting on ber hand, and ber eves looking with fixedness upon the ocean in the distance, she was truly picture of beauty very seldom witnessed bv any one. Shady Villa was situated on one of the numerous hills for which Santa Cruz is 'famous, commanding from its elevated bile one of the finest views of the harbor aud the broad Pacific Mrs. Wlnslow was going to give a dinner in the afternoon; a few of ber city friends were coming to spend a few days with ber. Airs. Winslow and her niece were waiting patiently for the arrival of that afternoon's steamer, Santa liar bar a. The carriages bad already been sent to the landing to convey the guesta to the bouse. As the whirr of the wheels was beard on the gravelled drive, the ladies stepped through the low windows of the drawing room out upon the broad piazza, to receive their friends as thev altahted from the carnage?. Mr. Wiuslow approached bis wife with a stranger by bis side. "My dear, this is the son of my old friend, Henry Tracy, whom you already know by name as a young gentleman bidding fair to be one of our brightest lights at the bar." As Mrs. Wiuslow was showing her guest all the courtesy that was due to a rrlend of her husband, and as he was expressing bis great pleasure In thus meeting the wife of his father's dearest friend. Mr. Tracy suddenly started as a merry, rippling laugh was wafted toward him, and involuntarily he ex- Claimed. "What a musical voiceT' "Mi niece." rejoined Mrs. Wlnslo Mr. Wlnslow came forward with Louke on his arm. and completed the formal introduction tetween bis niece aud bis friend. She had changed sreatlv since the morning, one could hardly believe that the thoughtful girl at the window was now the smiling and Untitling creature talking so spirit edly with Mr. Tracy, and whose musi cal lauirh inspired everybody. Dinner over, thev all retired to the drawing-room, to have a pteasant chat and some music before withdrawing for the night, and further to form their plans for whiling away the time in the most enjoyable manner. The next morning Mrs. Wlnslow came into ber niece's room in a great hurrv. (Jome.-get your hat and shawl! We are all going down to the seashore, taking our lunch with us, and we are going to have a pleasant time In Red wood Grove. Where is Mr. Tracy I have been looking everywhere lor him. lie must be found to go with us." "1 thought I saw him In the musle room as 1 was coming np from break fast," answered Louise. "He is not there, because I just came through; I suppose he has taken a stroll, to enjoy his cigar in solitude. 1 will tell John to look, him up while we get ready." Mr. Tracy was waiting by the car riage as Mrs. Wlnslow and her niece came opto the party. The carriages were soon conveying a gay, light hearted crowd to the beach, which was some three miles off. Fast horses put distance in the background, and soon they scattered up and down the beach, picking up shells, pebbles and seaweed of innumerable rarietles, strewed abundantly along the shore. The day beautifully bright, with warm. cheering sunshine, but there was a strong wind stirring, and the waves rolled high, and broke upon the shore with a ault. rushing, roaring- aonnd. The sea-gulls hovered on the cliffs. breaking the echoes with their cry, and in the sky there was not a streak of white to be seen upon the pare azure canopy. This is playing with the ocean." said Louise, turning with her fresh, bright face to Mr. Tracy, as she ran gayly back from the advancing waves. narrowly escaping having her dainty reel wet by the water. "Ah, beautiful, treacherous seal" she said, turning her gaze from Mr. Tracy toward the ocean; then back again to ber compan ion." uver now many lives bas it closed; how many found relief from their woes In its encircling bosom; how many more have found a grave too soon by its treachery." Are you talking with vour old friend?" asked Mr. W inslow, as he came up to them, "and are you as fond of him as ever?" Yes. I believe I am amphibious. " returned Louise, vivaciously. 1 am sorry to see our privacy in truded upon," said Mrs. Wlnslow. "A family have just come down with seve ral children." "Rather an unsafe place for chil dren," observed Mr. Tracy. Well." exclaimed Louise, "you two seem to think that children have no rights. Why should they be de barred from being here any more than grown people?" "l ou're right, Louise." said Mr. Wlnslow. "But never mind discussing the subject; let us look after something more substantial. For my part, I am getting ravenous." 1 be sea air bad given appetites to all, and they were soon making sad havoc among the tempting viands set before them. A fresh breeze was blow ing and rustling the mammoth limbs ot the red woods. J. he grove was on the side of the cliffs facing the ocean. Every one was full of mirth, and pop" went the champagne corks, and toasts of all descriptions were offered. Dut what stopped this joyousness all of sudden? Lvery one was still. A cry or horror, repeated by many voicesl They all rose and rushed toward the spot whence came the sounds. "My child I My child I Will no one save my criiidT" came from the lips of an agonized mother. All was excitement and confusion. The father of tts child, unable to swim. was rushing frantically up and down the beach. No one seemed to make any effort to save the little fellow. "Louise, you shall not do it cried Mrs. Wlnslow. "Come back!" It is folly for you to attempt It," said several of the bystanders. "She was standing on the cuff. A look of resolve was ber only answer as she Impatiently hastened her steps to the edge of the rocks. In spite of the general cries of remonstrance, she was about to take the plunge, but was ar rested by a band laid gently on her arm. stay I I will save the child. Stay for my sake, Louise!" The voice was low and passionate. and a thrill rushed through her whole frame. She paused. In a minute more. Mr. Tracy plunged into the water. Louise anxiously watched him. He had swam but a short distance when she turned to her aunt and said in a low, determined accent: "Swimming as he is, he cannot pos sibly save the child In these rough waves, with the undercurrent running so strongly. I must go." A leap, and she was soon gliding gracefully through the water. She showed immediately that she was by far the better swimmer, and under stood the nature of the currents. With easy speed she was soon by his side. "Miss Fair, why did you venture?" be asked in reproachful astonishment. "To save the child," she answered, curtly, and would have darted rapidly past him, but his band stayed her. "This ' is unkind, ungenerous of you?" he exclaimed. "I can easily sive the curld, and why do you thus risk your life?" I entreat of you to return if not for my sake for your own." A moment Louise hesitated, ber heart throbbing painfully; then she answered. Mr. Tracy, I can soon reach the child, for I can swim very fast" she could not say that she could swim fas ter than he "and I know my strength in the water. Indeed you will render a greater service by .doing as I request, for wind and tide are against us re turning; and without assistance, if you do not go back, it is possible that neither of us may reach the shore." "it will be cowardly for me to desert you. Let me go." "It will not be as you think meet me with assistance, and both will be safe." All this was said so rapidly that no time was wasted. He saw that she was right, and, though it cost his pride a struggle, he did as she re quested. A few rapid strokes in advance, and then Louise slackened her efforts. She watched the child ahead of her, and measured her strength with the dis tance, ber speed with the rapidity with which the little one was being carried out. To those on the shore the distance seemed so great her movement! so slow. "She will never reach him In time. Can't some one get a boat? Oh, my child! What shall 1 do!" exclaimed the anguished mother. "It does not seem possible w reacn bim at the rate she is going." rejoined Mrs. Wlnslow, "and the dist&nse Is constantly increasing, for the tide is taking him out rapidly, and they are nearlnff the White Rocks, where the currents are a perfect whirlpool. They will h loatl" "Dont worry about her movements," said Mr. Winslow. "Louise has un dertaken to save the child, and you mav dene ml uoon her doing it. She understands the water. A scream burst from several at once. The child had sunk. Breathless with fnar and anxiety, they gazed with straining eyes upon the swimmer. Now they saw her put out long, steady. cleaving strokes, which lifted her thmntrh the water with immense raniditv. The time had arrived for h.i- m .T.rt her soeed. and swiftly she n eared the child as he rose and floated nn thM anrface. Nearer and nearer she came. Again he sank, but now she was over the spot; instead of waiting fr him to rise, she dived under. An- nnthn moment, and she raised him minft to show that he wasjsafe. "Hurrah I Well doner' bursts from the excited throng on the beach. She bad turned, but her progress was leas rapid. She was yer near the White Rocks, and the current strong. She was burdened with the child, and wind and wave were against her. But men had arrived with ropes, and Mr. Tracy had swam out some distance with them. When near enoughed. she signed hurriedly for him to throw her the rope, lie did so. With a quick movement she fastened it around her body. 'Have you another rope?" she called out "Tes." "Then tie it aronnd yourself and let them drag you in. You cannot make headway against the tide and the waves. At first, Henry Tracy was proudly unwilling to be assisted by the rope. but was soon obliged to do so, for be found that she was right. Though Louise s movements were greatly as sisted by the ropes, she found her strength fast giving way. By the time she was little more than two-thirds of the distance in she tossed her arm as a signal for them to pull; and pull they did with a will. But, alas! only the child's face was seen above the water. Louise's face could not be seen only ber white hands gleaming now and then above the surface, as she lifted the child firmly In her grasp. Mr. Tracy was in before ber. He urged the men to pull harder, and was restrained from plunging hi again only by the strong seamen. "She is under water she will surely drown!" he exclaimed. "Cant be helped," answered the men. "The quicker she comes in the better." Faster and faster she was pulled in; all that fearful way she was under water. Those who brought her ashore found her holding the child so that his head might be above the surface. Means were taken to revive the boy . aud Louise. With him. it was a mat- sea. Capt. Thompson came to his Tes ter of a few minutes; with Louise they cue an(1 gajd. .The dance is merely worked hour after hour, pouring stimu lants down ber heart, and applying hot bottles to ber feet. Finally she opened her eyes and look about inquiringly. "She is looking for the child," said Mr. Wlnslow. "He is all right, Louise, and is talking cheerily, looking none the worse for his bath." This satisfied ber, and she lay back upon the pillow. In a little while she was well enough to be taken to the carriage and conveyed home. What a different aspect the party presented on its return to what it did in the morning I Then joyful and full of excitement, now sad and anxious. A few days more, and Louise wai again enjoying the pleasures of the country. All through her Illness Henry Tracy had paid her every attention, and seemed anxious for her speedy re covery. Tbe villa was brightly lighted every night, and the guests spent many an enjoyable evening together. One evening Henry Tracy and Louise were sitting together on the veranda. He had a letter in his hand. They were silent for a long time, when Henry broke the silence. 1 shall be compelled to go back to the city again in a few days, as one of my clients has written for me. "How provoking!" answered Louise. Another silence ensued after this. "Louise, do you remember the day you saved the child? Since that time I have loved you sincerely. When we first met you awakened a new hope in my heart, and Infused a greater ambi tion into my life. I have been pining to know if this affection is returned by you." He put his arm around her waist and drew her closer to him. Only say that you will be mine." A bright Hush suffused her face, and she was silent. In that short time what emotions filled her breast, and what thoughts passed through her mind! He clasped her in bis arms aud imprinted a kiss upon ber brow. She nestled closely to him, and the answer came, low and sweet "VesI" Mr. and Mrs. Winslow were pleased with their niece's choice. A few months afterward tbe marriage was celebrated at Trinity Church. San Francisco, and one cannot find a hap pier pair than Henry and Liouise Tracy. Itag, Tag- and lloblaiL. This is probably au u.d hunting ex pression to signify a herd of deer. In Freicott's "Philip the Second," quoted by Strype and HollingsheaJ, is tbe fol lowing: "They hunted the deer, and were so greedy or their destruction that they killed them rag and tag, with hands and swords." lhe word tegg. or tag, signifies, according to Bailey, a doe in the second year or ner age." Rag is defined by the same writer as a herd of young colts," but older writers have raeg to signify a herd of deer at rutting time. Bobtau means a fawn just after it has been weaned. Tag and bobtail are used in tbe same sense when speaking or sheep, but rag does not seem to be known In this con nection. Tbe complete original sense or the phrase tag, rag and bobtail" seems to have been a collection of sh-ep or deer, of all sorts mixed indis criminately. Soiling Souvenirs or Sedan. A camp following tourist" found himself caught in the railway station at Sedan during the engagement. Of course he could not go out except at the risk of bis life. So be amused him self within the innermost doors ot tbe office. "Look here," he said to a friend afterward, opening a small bag full of railway tickets. I've got some souve nirs of Sedan." They were all marked "Sedan. September 1," and Indicated an immense number of quite Impossible journeys, such as that to Metz, as hav ing been made on that day. While the storm was raging around, he had stamped all the tickets he could lay hands on with the date of the battle till tbe ink gave out. "These will be curiosities," said he, adding, "and I've got money out of tbe pocket of a dead soldier; they say it's lucky." He showed some silver of which he had robbed a corpse. A Fashionable Woman's Whins. The extent to-wbich money is wasted at a fashionable woman s whim was illustrated te me the other day. 1 was in tbe shop or a well known florist on Broadway when a lady came in from a private coach. She parchased three huge roses, for which she paid $5. and carried them daintily away by their long stems. An hour afterward, going by Delimonlco's, I saw my lady of the roses lunching at one of tbe windows with a companion of ber own sex. fifteen minutes afterward, returning by the same way, I noted that tbe table where they sat was vacant. Three bare rose stems lay amid the dishes, which were buried In rose leaves, xne iaay you take?" asked Sig. Novissimo. of the roses bad plucked $5 worth of "Uumpty Dumpty," cried the chil flowers to pieces in a few minutes Idle dreu. conversation after her luncheon. i "Ompee Dompee? What be do?' SEEN AT THE REHCARsAU Lovely Times la tbe Old Board ot Trade Building. Three lithe young men- placed their arms around the waists of three supple young women. The three young men were in knee breeches and flannel shirts; the three young women wore ballet skirts. A throng of children and young girls gathered in the old Board ot Trade building looked on In silence. 'These," said Capt. Alfred Thomp son, who was superintending the maneuvres. 'are Deviled Lobsters and Dressed Turkeys." It was a reheantal of "The CrysAl Slipper." The leaders of the Dressed Turkeys was Mr. Rinaldo, a dancer of reputa tion. Mr. Rinaldo is a disciple of the naturalistic school of dancing. "I do not believe," he says, "that a Dressed Turkey should have the same move ments as a Deviled Lobster. Do tur keys In real life move as lobsters move? No, sir. Then why should they adopt the same movements on the stage?" Sig. Novissimo, the ballet-master, listened with feelings ot alarm. He belongs so the old school of dancing and defends its traditions manfully. "Evero," said he, 'Losba, he walks like this." And curving bis arms and legs, he crawled round the piano. "And torkee," be added, "torkee, he go like that." With which he disten ded his stomach and waddled towards the violin-stand. "rreclsely, said Mr. Rinaldo. '.But," cried Sig. Novissimo with a gleam of Italian triumph, "you are no live losba; you no live torkee. You only devil losba and dress torkee." Mr. Rinaldo having admitted that a turkey and lobster on the dinner-table Ii-aH rt rf- thai aa mA wi if-1 s-r si ua a t rbnv i the bamvard and a lnhster in th symbolical. Deviled Lobster and Dre.ued Turkey are well matched oa a bill of fare. Let your steps suggest a flirtation." "I have It," said Sig Novissimo, striking bis forehead. "The dance of seduction In "Tannhauser." Before Capt. Thompson could protest the mob of children were clamoring around him. "What are we, air? What are we, sir?" Some of you will be oysters on the half shell," he replied. 1 want to be an oyster each of them cried. "Please, sir let ms be an oyster." "Millie can't rehearse Saturday," said one, pointing to a child of 7. "Millie has a matinee." "What is ber matinee?" "She buries the canary in 'May i&loasom.'' "My two little girl j would make nice 3sters, I think, sir," said an anxious mother, leading by the hand two golden-haired tots. "How old are they?" "Just 5. They are twins." "I was with 'Round the World," said one of the tots proudly. "I was with 'Ratcatcher" said the other. "Let me see you march." said Capt. Thompson. And off they went, their little hands clasped, their miles of feet stamp, Et'tmp, stamping, and shelr golden hair floating behind them. It was not till they reached tbe old wlieit-pit that Capt. Thompson cried "Halt!" I fear they're too young" he said to the anxious mother: "Everybody noticed them in 'Around the World," she pleaded, aiid they were the great bit of the 'Ratcatcher. "Well, I'll take them next year." said Capt. Thompson. "They will look no older then." Please, sir." cried aaother little girl, "can't you do something for Meha?" And 'Mella, a child of 7, slipped off her little dress and stood in tights, a baby acrobat. She placed on the ground a tin cup and a dirty blue hand- keichief, smiled upon tbe audience as she had seen trapeze performers smile at the circus, and leaning backwards. picked up the tin cup and handkerchief with her teeth. After which she con. torted her body in an astonishing fash ion. I might use her as a Liz ire," mused Capt, Thompson "But I think," he added, that she had better go tj liar num." A great commotion now arose. Sig. Novissimo had made a startling dis covery. He had been rehearsing eight young women and putting them through the conventional measures. Mr. Rinaldo suggested that they should hop. "'Op?" cried Sig. Novissimo, "why should they 'op?" "Because all blackbirds hop," said Mr. Rinaldo, la his craze for natural ism. "What have these girls to do with blackbirds?" demanded the Signor. "Are you not aware, sir," replied Mr. Rinaldo, tthat those are the Four and Twenty Blackbirds Baked In a Pie?" What? What? These eight girls the Four and Twenty Blackbirds? Mio Dio, I never heard such a thing. What? What?" "There will be eight more." said Capt. Thompson, who plays the part of peacemaker, "and with ail the other nursery rhymes we can get no more upon the stage." 'Eight and eight; that makes six teen," pondered tbe Italian. 4 'Then for what you call them four and twenty?" "Because the rhyme says so. Be cause Mother Goose says so." To tbe devil with the rhyme. To the devil with Madra Goose. I been master of ballet thirty years. I teach in La Scala at Milano, at San Carlo, in Napoli. And never, never seen 1 sixteen ballerina pnt down as Four and Twenty Blackbirds." Novissimo's trouble was so sincere that Mr. David Henderson, the mana ger, bad to be summoned. Hearing the case, he said that he would con- j Bluer uie ieasiuuuy oi ureas-iug uowu iue rear wau oi me nige m swuoimv date eight more blackbirds and oblige the ballet-master. Thoroughly paci fied, the latter turned his attention to the eight young ladles who were to represent Ice-Creams. "Our only fear," said Capt Thomp son, "is that during the hot summer ' months tbe Ice-Cream will melt," "S:g. Novissimo bad them all by name. "Vanilla you are running Into Pistachio. Strawberry I want you to dance with Chocolate. Why you look so sour Lemon?" . cut tbe children were clamoring to begin their rehearsal. "What parts He had a great faU." Good. Fall then. Fall, all to gether. And what Ompee Dompee do next? He got up again?" "No," cried the children! "All tbe king's horses and all the king's men Can't put Ilumply Dumpty together again." "Ah?" said Novl slmo. Then stay where you fell. I cannot get you off the stage if the rhyme says you remain. lis, this stupid rhyme. Ah, this foolish Madre Goose. Who the devil she was. this Madie Goose idiotic?" Then, with Bacchanalian air and arms upraised, the Bottles of Cham pagne bore down on the puzzled ballet-master. "Dry Champagne on one side,'" be directed. "Sweet Champagne on tbe other, my dear," he added, ad dressing a pretty little gtrU "Why. you dance with the Drys. Tou not Dry. l oa are Sweet," "So the boys tell me," she said, and cast down her eyes. Kveline's Lrack. Eveline Morton was employed by a large London mourning establishment, and she had been sent down according to tbe advertisement, to "ht" a re cently bereaved family. She had been told to take a cab, but there was no cab to be bad, and North Lodge was "quite a three-mile walk." Eveline paused suddenly and looked down the path Bhe bad to pursue with frightened eyes, for she distinctly heard footsteps. The footsteps approached rapidly, and soon a dark figure came in sight. Eveline shrank back to get out of Its way, but it moved also, so that it was still right In front of her. "Good-night!" said a gruff voice. "Good-night!" repeated Eveline. "It is a dark night for you to be out in," went on the man. "Have you got such a thing as a copper about you to give a poor fellow?" Tremblingly Eveline took out ner purse to look for a penny; as she did so. it was suddenly snatched out of her hands. Eveline gave a little cry of dis tress at tbe loss of the money; but she was too much alarmed to utter a sin gle word of remonstrance. The man's burly figure still barred the way. Let me pass," she pleaded. "I have no jewelry. My purse was the only th'ng worth stealing; you have that, so pray let me go." "Don't be in such a hurry, pretty one," said the man with a hoarse langh.and he caught a hold of her arm. "I waut to speak to you." 'Oh! pray pray let me go," cried Eveline, dropping the parcel, for her poor little heart was beating almost to suffocation. "Not till I've given you a kiss," be said, insolenty. "lou are a pretty ElrL" And he drew her nearer to him, so that his rouh bearded lace touched her cheek. Eveline pushed him from her with all her force, uttering scream after scream. Her terror gave her sudden strength, and for quite a min ute she kept him at arm's length. "You little vixen!" he exclaimed with an oath. "I'll have that kiss in spits of all your struggles; I will, by i He never finished his sentence, for at that moment a well-directed blow from a powerful dst felled bim to the ground. "You cowardly blackguard!" cried the newcomer indignantly. "How dare you insult a lady 1 Stand up, and let me knock you do wu Again." But this the tramp wisely declined to do. He rolled over in abject terror, whluing out an appeal for mercy; as the young man spurned him with his foot. "I am indeed sorry that you should have been frightened by tbe fellow,'.' said the strauger, lifting bis hat and turning to Eveline. The girl tried to thank him, but her emotion was too great, and putting her band to ber eyes she cried bitterly. while the young man looked on sympa thetically, scarcely knowing what to do or say under such embarrassing circumstances. "My parcel!'" she exclaimed sud denly, thinking of her employer's prop erty. "Is here!" returned her new friend. picking it up as he spoke, "and your nurse, too'' he added, for in the struggle the tramp had dropped Eve lin 'a shabby little portmonnaie. veline took the purse and then mechanically held out her band for tbe parcel; but Ralph Vernon such was the name of the gentleman who had come to her rescue shook bis head. "I'll carry it," be said, dubiously, "You don't think I am going to leave you in the lane alter wnat uas Hap pened, w here are you going r" To North LiOdge," raitereo .eve line. You will find the Thui-sbys in great trouble," sail Ralph V ernon, looking at her curiously. I know it." rtturned Eveline, col oring. "I have come from London to make up their mourning. ". OhT cried Ralph, a little surprised. for he had imagined that she was some noor relative, at least. His manner was far more respectful than before, and Eveline felt so glad of his company that she soon brightened up, even laughing at the recollection of the tramp, as Le crawled away on his hands and knees, and then sud denly sprang to his feet, flying off like the wind. It was too dark for Ralph to distinguish the girl's features plainly. but he could see that she was pretty, and that ber figure was slight and graceful. Her voice, too, pleased him; it was so sweet ana rennea. The little dressmaker was a lady in every sense of the word. "Pray take my arm," be said, kina- Iy. I know you are very tired and up set by tbe fright that ruffian gave you. But yoa have tbe parcel to carry, returned Eveline, hesitatingly. 1 can manage both you ana the parcel." he told her. with a laugh. "l ou have never carried a parcel be fore in your life," observed Eveline, as she accepted his arm. "How do you know that?" be asked good-humoredly. "Well if I have never made myself useful before, it is high time I began now." "Don't you know that I fell desper ately In love with you that night when I rescued you from the tramp?" They were sitting together in the conserva tory some weeks after Eveline's ad venture. "At least I think I did, al though it was not till I saw you peep at me through the window that I knew how exquisitely pretty you were. Be my wife and let me take care ot you not only on dark nights, but all your life." And Eveline said yes. Idleness Is the hotbed of temptation the cradle of disease, tbe waster o met the canker-worm of felicity. judge Jfo. j I was teaching a private school In a flourishing town in one of the West ern States, when en incident occurred that showed me how wrongfully we sometimes judge those whom we con sider beneath us socially. My school, with one exception, was composed of children from tbe best families In the place well-behaved little girls and boys, who never gave me any trouble with their lessons or their play. The exception I spoke of was a half-clad, half-starved orphan boy about ten years old, that a friend of mine had persuaded me to take into my school. I had expected some of my patrons to object, but tbey did not, and things moved on smoothly for a month or more, borne of my scholars lived In the suburbs, and as it was quite a walk to tbe school-house, they usually brought their dinners. One day at noon, two of the children came to me. and said some one had taken most of their dinner. "It Is that little starved Moore boy; know it Is," said one of them spite fully. "No" said I. "you do not know that Jack Moore did it; you only think he did. You must say nothiug to any one but me about this, and we will watch and see if we can catch the thief. I am going home now to my dinner and when I come back I will bring you something to eat." The dinner-baskets were always left the ball on a shelf that had been placed there for that purpose. I watched Jack Moore constantly, never allowing him to get out of my sight until noon, but I watched in vain. Before the week was gone every basket bad been robbed ot its contents. Some days one only would be disturbed, sometimes two, sometimes a little would be taken from them all. I felt sure Jack was the thief, for he was the ouly child there that did not have plenty at home of the very best food the land afforded, but when he did the stealing was a mystery to me. The story of the theft was soon known by every scholar in school, and it was very evident from their actions that they all thought they knew who the thief was. Some of the larger ones even uggested that it would be best to send bim away from school. I concluded to give tbe whole school a lecture on the sin of stealing, and then If that did no good, to send Jack away. So tbe next morning after this decision, I delivered my lecture. I grew excited, forgot the school, forgot everything except the miserable little sinner in bis tattered garments sitting all alone at a desk by the window. 1 did not mean to be so personal, and felt mortified when I found I had delivered my lecture to Jack Moore, and not to the school. Tbe child's face was crimson, and he looked the very picture of guilt as be twisted his little, dirty fingers in and out ot one another. I felt like hiding my lace in my bands and taking a good cry; I felt so angry with myself, and so sorry for the desolate little child But I controlled myself, aud began to hear the lessons. Jaci: opened his book. but seemed to have no heart to study. and turned the leaves listlessly. His face lost its crimson glow, and set tied into a kind of sulleu despair that puzzled me. Daisy .Davis." i said, glancing at my watch, "it is time you were going to your music lessons." My voice softened, and l smiled when spoke to her. Everyone, old and young, spoke in a caressing way when they addressed Daisy. She was such a sweet delicate little child; she looked just like a fragile flower, A short time after Daisy quitted the room, I saw Jack lean out of the window by bis desk, and then sit down again with such an expression of amazement and joy on his face. When he saw that I had seen him, be motioned to the win dow back of my chair. I looked to see If any of the scholars had noticed him. but no one seemed to have seen bim. I went to the window and leaned out as 1 had seen Jack do, and there cloie to the wall sat Daisy devouring cake, pickles and cheese most raven ously. I don't know how I finished my morning's work, but noon came at last; and when the scholars bad all left the school-room called Jack and told him how sorry I was that I had mis uJged him. "You needn't be sorry nothing about it," he said kindly; "I knew you could not help thinking it was me; and then. as if talking more to himself than to me, he added: "but I'm glad you found out it wasn't;" then still more softly. I am sorry for that little girl, she is such a pretty little thing." I am sorry for her, too," said 1. Suppose wa never tell." "All right." said he, "m never tell. ".and be never did. That evening I told the scholars that Jack Moore wa innocent, that I found the thief, but would give no name, and that in future their baskets would I safe. When I asked Daisy about it, she burst out crying: Oh, Miss Morris," she said, "I was so fearfully hungry, lhe doctor saye I must not eat anything but oatmeal graham bread and milk, and I can't eat that. The very sight of it makes me sick. But I will try, if you will never tell mamma that I am a thief. Oh." she sobbed, "I'll never steal again, if I starve. -' And she never did, but tried to fol low the doctor's directions as best she could, and it was not long until she was able to eat anvthlng she wanted without it hurting her. "Judge not. that ye be not judged." Does It Pay? "Does it, after all. pay to be honest?" a disappointed 'young man writes. No, my son, not u you're honest lor pay, it doesn't. Not if you are honest merely because you think it will pay; not if you are honest only because you are afraid to be a rogue; indeed, my dear boy. It does not pay to be honest that way. If you can't be honest because you bate a lie and scorn a mean action. if you can't be noaest irom principle. be a rascal; that's what you are in tended for, and you'll probably succeed at it. But you cannot make anybody believe in honesty that is bought and sold like merchandi.-ie. IliM Eyeliil Saved Hi in. A farmer living In Fayette county, W. Va., became suddenly ill, and be fore a physician could reach him he was apparently dead. All efforts to bring him to "life" seemed fruitless, and preparations were finally made for his funeral. While taking a last look at tbe supposed dead man, it is said, a friend noticed a twitching of one of tbe eyelids, and when medical aid wag summoned and restoratives applied be regained consciousness. He has since fully recovered from his cuiious attack. when uoororti disagree." An Invalid's Experlenlcce with. Dis agreeing Pnyaiana. In tbe month of August, 13t'2, I came down from Enge'berg to Lu- . zerne. Tbe next day I met a friend i who, knowing of my search for health, informed me that tbe great lung , specialist. Professor Kussmaul, of j Strasbnrg, was at Rlgi-Kalthad and advised Unit I consult bim. Within a few hours 1 had made an appointment : by telegraph, and the following day the J train carried me from Vitznau. up the famous Rigl mountain. The doctor J a perfect type of a German professor received n e cordially, auscultated my lungs with c its, aud pronounced the following opinion. Said be: 'You are not a very sick man and, with pru dence, ought to live to old age. I find a catarrhal condition at the base of the right lung. This you should try to re move. The lung is sluggish at that point and needs some shock to make it work. Go to the great water cure es tablishment at Divonne, near Geneva. lhe French understand the water cure treatment better than we Germans. Dr. Vidart, the physician of the Divonne establishment, will arrange a cold douche to fall direct on the catarrhal point with great force, say from a height of twenty to thirty feet. A few weeks of such treatment will help to remove this catarrhal condition." I paid a liberal fee and returned to Luzerne. The doctor's advice filled me with concern. 1 feared that such a violent shock might Induce hemorrhage. The same night 1 wrote particulars of this Interview with a request for advice to Dr. Messing, a clever physician of Meran, Tyrol, who knew my condition perfectly. Three days later came the telegraphic response: "Do not go to Di vonne. Such treatment dangerous for you. Messing," So I did not go, but went to Italy and, later, Mentoue in stead. The following summer I spent sev eral weeks at Rilchenhall, Bavaria. I beard so much of the ability of a Dr. Schmid that 1 consulted him. His diagnosis and treatment agreed with that of Professor KussmauL He ad vised strong douches on tbe affected part of the lung. 1 still bad my doubts. The next day I consulted Professor Schneider. He rather undecidedly ad vised against the douche business. A day or two after 1 bad my chest thumped by Dr. Kammerer, a physician of reputation. He opposed the douche idea most decldely. Said he: "it can only do you harm. You eat well, sleep well, feel well and, to all practical pur poses, are well. Be satisfied I Don't try dangerous experiments." The balance stood two for cold water treatment, three against. So I still kept away from Divonne. A few months thereafter, en route from Frankrort to Baden-Baden, 1 left the train at the little station whence one drives to Falkenstem. 1 was curious to inspect, the great Sanl'arium and to meet tho eminent Professor DeMweller. Soon after arriving I had tne professor pronounce ou my condi tion, telling him the treatment Kuss maul bad advised. Dettweiler thought it a good idea; said, however, that it was not necessary to go to Divonne, that a fine water cure establishment was conducted at Baden-Baden; that I should call In Dr. Schliep, a man of ability (physician of tbe Empress of Germany), who thorougly understood water cure treatment aud would ar range to gire me the powerful douches required. I left Falkeustein delighted. At last I was to have my douches. The very day I reached Baden-Baden I sent for Dr. Schliep a bright, wide-awake young man, who bas a bobby that the majority of lung and throat diseases originate from breathing through tbe mouth. I explained to him all that Dettweiler had said. He examined me attentively, then asked what form of bath I was in the habit of taking. I answered that for many years I bad taken a daily cold sponge bath, followed by vigorous massage. "That," said Dr. Schliep, "is all you need. I see no necessity for any violent douches In your case." Cheated again! i I spent part of tbe winter In Men tone. I laid tbe case before Dr. Stiege. His opinion was that the treatment proposed wouldn't do me much good, but that it couldn't do me any barm. Then I consulted Dr. Cube, a Russian physician. He most emphatically be lieved in the treatment, and urged me to go to Divonne. Then I went to Nice and consulted Dr. Drummond, a Scotchman. He just as emphatically, with the broadest brogue, said: "Don't !you go to Divonne. You'll burst the nachlne." My medical balance now stood four u favor, five against and one on the ence. The physicians of greatest eputation, however, favored the reatment, 1 tiad pondered on the sub ject some two years, and so I finally -Jeciaed that 1 should at least visit Di yonne. In the month of April, 1SS4, therefore, I entered the Etabiisaetneut .Hydrotherapique de Divonne, and stood in the presence of Dr. Vidart I explained to him the original sugzes !tion ot Professor Kussmaul, that a very violent cold water shock should be made to fall on the deceased part of the lung, with all tbe other medical pros and cons. The doctor devoted considerable time and care to the ex amination, and finally delivered tbe fol lowing opinion: "Cold water douches w.U do you good, but not violent douches, and the whole body must be douched except tbe very part which bas the chronic catarrhal affection." Comment unnecessary. Did I follow the treatment? Yes, for five weeks. Did it benefit me? No! It robbed me of flesh and vitality, which it took me two years to regain. netting Square With Ills Dad. He was the son of a worthy Cbicagoan, and he had just returned from college. The father was a brusque, matter-of-fact man, who bad no liking for anything dudisb, and be noticed with sorrow that bis son returned with bangs and various other insignia of dudeism. The old gentleman surveyed bim critically when be appeared in bis office, and then blurted out: "Young man, you look like a fool." Just at that moment, and before the young man bad time to make a fitting reply, a friend walked in. "Why, hello George have you re- , turned?" he asked. "Dear me, how much you resemble your father." I '-So he has just been telling me," re plied the youth. And from that day to this tbe old gentleman has found no fault with the bangs. Tbe fire-fly only shines when on the wing. So it is with the mind, when nce we rest we darken. NEWS IX BRIEF. Dried shark fins are sold In every Chinese provision store In New York, and are esteemed such a delicacy that tbey bring nearly $1 per pound. A parrot that was valued at (300 died in Poughkeepsie receutly. It could sing, talk aud swear in the Eng lish, Dutch and Portuguese languages. Generals Sherman, Shendau, How ard and Terry are the ouly men now living who have tersonally received the thanks of the Congress of the United States. The Emieror of China bas four physicians, each of whom receives a weekly salary, stopping when be be comes sick. Therefore his indisposi tion is never of loug duration. A Maine clergy mail's donation party recently cetlel $0. The stuff that the guests devoured cost the poor prencher $28. Now lie prays earnestly to be delivered from his friends. Under the high license law of Pennpylvanla there are now only 'JTiii places in Pittsburg where litiuor Is sold, whereas before the law was passed there were 1,500 such places. Nearly all the United S ates Sena tors are large men, the average weight running close to ISO pounds. Their entire weight, according to a statistical correspondent. Is nearly 14,000 pounds. "Tngrim's Progress"' hat just been translated into the language of tbe Fantes, a tribe occupying a district iu Upper Guinea, on the gold coast. This Is the eighty-first foreign version of Bunyan's work. Uoscoe Conkllng managed to salii factorily dispose of iJJO.OOO worth of property in a will of seven lines. It is safe to say there will lie no tat pick li gs for lawyers lu a contest of that document. A Methodist church at Augusta held a "hard boiled egg festival" for the purpose of raising money. Each lady attending was expected to bring a bard boiled egg, the proceeds to go to the purchase of an organ. A French engineer has receutly in vented au improved key, which simpli fies and renders lasting the tuning of stringed Instruments. 7 ho violoncel lists of the Grar:d 0era at Paris have had them adapted to their instruments. A number of New York ladies have subscribed a fuud of Jii.OoO, whose interest shall be used to pay the college expenses of the New Yuik woman who each year shall pi.s llm best examination for entrance lo Um vard. Deeiing (Me.) people were amazed at seeing what ap(ieared to be a lumi nous cloud floating high up over their heads about 10 o'clock in the evening recently. An investigation made from a roof showed that the cloud was coin posed of fire flies. What is pronounced the smallest circular saw in practical iiBe Is a tiny disc about the size or a British shilling, which is employed lor cutting the slits in golp pens. These saws are about as thick as ordinary paper, and revolve some 4000 times per minute. According to the San Franciico Alt'i, a church organ in that city lias been benefitted lather than injured by the accidental discharge ot a bullet into it- The instrument was out of unlet, but since receiving the Ini.let has pro duced almost as go. id music as when new. The following is the seating ca pacity of the eight largest churches of Europe; St. Peter, Rome, Sl.mio per sons; Milan cathedral, 37.IMJO; St. Paul, Loudon, 25,000; St. Sophia, Con stantinople. 23.0WO; Notre Dame, Paris. 21,000; Florence cathedral. O.iHXI; Pisa cathedral, 13,0uU; St, Mark. Ven ice, 7,000. Tbe largest bell In the world is the great bell of Moscow, Russia, which lies at the foot of the Kremlin. Its I circumference at the bottom is nearly sixiy-eignt reel, una us iieiglit more than twenty-one feet. In Us stoutest part it Is twenty-three lnclres thick, and its weight has been computed to be 443,772 pounds. It has never been hung. It was cast on the sjiot where it now stands. The character of thieves' (a cer tain class of them) booty seems to be undergoing a complete revolution Only a short time ago their boldness extended to carrying off stoves. Theu it became more expansive, so as to In elude house roofs, and now one of the rascals out In Kansas I. as capped the climax by digging up and carting away 5i K) sweet potato plants The anti-German crusade is buing carried on within Russia with great vigor. Officials who are Lutherans, and not of the Russian faith, are being removed. In the Baltic provinces. German, which was authorized by Peter the Great, Is to be replaced by Russian. Criminals of German nation ality are being discriminated against by the courts. The cost of maintaining the Impe rial family of Germany, with all its various branches, is f 20,0j0,0ii0 a year. The Sultan of Turkey costs SI.j.ijoo, 000 annually. The most economical court in Europe, considering the wealth or the Empire, is the Austrian. Royally comes high, but some of the people of the old world think they must have It. Six months ago a resident of Mil lersburg, Kentucky, received a iouy from a friend living in the Indiau Territory, and the story is that, very recently, tbe animal escaped fiotu his new master, wandered off through sev eral States, swam over a number of rivers, and ou Monday last reached his old borne. Horse anecdotes bid fair to eclipse fish stories In interest aud p:c turesquenesa. On February 23, 1071, Marcby Hill, near Hereford, Englaud, began to move, bearing with it the cattle, trees and hedges on its surface. It con tinued in motion fur two days, over throwing a chapel that lay in Its path, and leaving, where it formerly stood, a chasm forty feet deep and thirty long. A similar phenomenon happened in Dorsetshire in 1583. The French Minister of War, be fore giving an order for the manufac ture of military clothing, investigated the wool product and gives the follow ing Azures: world's annual product of wool B'JO.OOO tons. value f000,000,000. Of this Europe produces one-fourth part, Australasia one-eighth part, India, Central Asia and Chiua three-sixteenth?, tbe United States one-tenth. France has 22,000.000 sheep, aud im ports 80,000 tons of wool per year. Half of this is used tor the army and navy. 'TV n p in w.i. .l,.I . -'-!. j..'