Connecticut baa within thirty-six
miles as many mile) of electric roil*
way as Maine, Vermont, New Hamp
shire and Rhode Island combined.
An English paper has it that in
China the native Baptists call John
D. Rockefeller "Mr. Beautiful Pros
perity Oil Man." Probably that is a
title to be proud of, though it has a
somewhat grotesque sound.
Beware of overtaxing the mental
powers. A rubber band that has lost
its elasticity is valueless. So is a
mind that has lost its snap. There is
no give to it, no holding power. It
can grasp nothing, guarantee noth
ing.
The newer states have not imitated
the Puritan Fast Day of New Eng
land, their people, as the Omaha
(Xeb.) Bee says, having seen no
reason why they should make them
selves needlessly uncomfortable even
for one day in the year.
A tribe of Yaqui Indians has been
subilued by a ruse of the Mexican
government. Its chief was taken for
a visit to the capital, appointed gen
eral, and given a uniform. After his
return he regarded himself as the
rn'er of Mexico, and instead of being
rebe'lions has helped, with his 800
warriors, to preserve psace among
other tribes.
From the martyrdom of Crittenden,
and his fifty Kentuckians, to the an
nihilation of the battleship in the liar«
bor of Havana, the history of Cuba
has been an endless chain of incalcu
lable brutality, but from the coming
of Pizarro and Cortez, to fhe final
triumphs of Bolivar and his coadjutors
in Central and South America and in
Mexico, Spanish rule in the Western
Hemisphere has bsen marked by a
calculating rapacity and an unsparing
ferocity nowhere else to be found in
all the bloody annals of conquest.
The Laureate of England rises to a
higher poetical as well a* moral level
when he sings of an alliance between
England and America than he did when
he rhapsodized the raid of Jameson
and his men upon the Transvaal re
public. ' His last effort is really not
at all bad, though he does not ap
proach the poetry of William Watson's
appeal to the "towering daughter of
the West" written soon after the Ven
ezuela message. But why can't we
hear from that geuuine poet and
Anglo-American, Rudyard Kipling?
Here is a theme for the most vigorous
and lofty genius of the day, one which
should inspire as great a strain as the
"Recessional."
It is a funny commentary upon the
age that the greatest patron of poets
aud poe.las today is an English sau
sage manufacturer in London, notes
the New York Mail aud Express. He
is a millionaire, aud during his long
and busy career he is said to have
purchased over 4000 examples of what
Bismarck calls reptile poetry. Some
of these are printed as advertisements,
others are printed with a brush on
great sheets of paper aud hung in his
many restaurants, and still others are
written with chalk upon advertising
blackboards. An English pillmaker
patronizes sculptors and uses their
groups to increase the sale of hi?
poods, while a soapmaker in the Eng
lish capital lints magnificent oil paint
ings to some plebeian use.
The dairy products of the United
States for oneyear amounted to 8254,-
00.1,000. We are in the habit of look
ing at this branch of farming as one
of large extent, writes a llliode Island
expertto the New England Homestead,
but we find the poultry products for the
same year to be 8560,030,000 or more
than twice as much aud still not
enough, for during the &ame year 13.-
00*1,009 dozens of eggs were imported
and the total value of poultry and egg?
imported was probably 820,000,000.
This 820,000,000 ought to have been
jingling in the pockets of American
farmers and poultrvmen rather than
to have been sent to foreign countries.
Even the little state of Rhode Island
used from outside of the state about
$600,000 worth of eggs. Britain im
ported eggs and poultry to the value
of £3,657,000 sterling or 827,637,250.
London alone used other than English
eggs to the value of 86,915,400.
France reckoned the value of hei
poultry products at 877,920,000, froir
which she furnished her own people
and exported largely. This large
value we find derived mainly from the
farms. With such figures before us,
a growing population, and a surety
that as cost of production is decreased
by skillful management that consump
tion of poultry prodncts will be
largely increased, we may rest assured
of a market for some time to come.
Talk about jealousy among women!
The Washington Star intimates that
there is so much jealousy among men
that the naming of the streets of the
capital city after distinguished Ameri
cans is not feasible.
The Klondike this year will hardly
produce as much gold as either Colo
rado or California. But as both these
states can be reached without tre
mendous hardships they are not the
scene of mtich excitement.
The Monroe street fire in Chicago
the other day called out the old steam
fire engine, known as Liberty, which
has not before been in use since the
big fire of 1871. It did its part well
when steamed up, in spite of its long
vacation.
The Railway Age,in commenting on
the purchase of the Swiss railways by
the government, observes that the en
tire railway mileage in the country
would barely make an air line from
Chicago to New York and back, or
not half the mileage Georgia has.
The Chicago Times-Heralil says: A
glance at the naval equipment of Great
Britain will disclose the fact that this
great sea power long ago discerned
the important part which the torpedo
boat was to play in the naval defences
of the future. She has already built
2)3 of these fighting engines, 103 of
which are topedo-boat destroyers, and
now has forty more under construc
tion, making a total of 333.
The British government derives an
income from all sources of well on to
ward $2,000,000 for each working day
in the year, but has never yet felt
rich enough,sarcastically observes the
New York World, to oft'er a reward
for the villain who introduced the
custom of eating marmalade two hours
before dinner, with tea. This would
be of slight interest in New York
were it not that there are hideous
signs and portents that the custom is
growing here.
The New Haven Begister reports
this curious and startling fact in
natural history: "John H. Beach of
Queach Farm, while plowing in a
field recently, found a mock turtle
marked 1843 and 1873. The figures
were plain, but the initials of the
markers were illegible. Mr. Beach
says this particular species of turtle
has been known to live to the age of
one hundred years. There is just one
place on the farm where they seem to
congregate, and that is quite near a
fence."
"We have often commented," says
the London Globe, "npou the nu
suitability of the names selecte 1 by
the Admiralty for our warships, and
uiw the climax is reached in the
christening of our latest battleship
Goliath. There never was a reputed
mighty warrior who so completely
weut under to an apparently insignifi
cant antagonist as Goliath, aud the
omen must be in the minds of all wlio
hear the new vessel's name. It would
not cost very much to rechrjsteu the
vessel, and this ought to be done, if
only to deprive other nations of the
opportunity of christening some swift
and powerful cruiser the David."
A Chicago man has conceive! the
idea of forming a pool on the state of
the weather on a certaiu future day,
proposing to sell tickets at $1 each
aud to award prizes running from SSO
to 810,000. He desired to Uste the
mails to further his scheme, but is in
formed by the department that such u
scheme would "seem to be entirely a
matter of chance," and if operated
through the mails would be held to be
a violation of the lottery law. Much
is the degeneracy of the age that we
may not be able to suppress gambling.
Men, whether barbarous or civilized,
have always found means for the
gratification of this demoralizing pas
sion; but at least we can prevent then)
from using the machinery of the gov
ernment with which to carry out theii
schemes.
The New York Herald observes:
The addition of twenty thousand
names to the pensioa rolls in the
past twelvemonth—thirty-three years
after the close of the war—is sugges
tive, to say the leant. In transmit
ting to Congress his deficiency esti
mate of eight million dollars for
pensions, Secretary Bliss notes that
in 1830—a quarter of a century after
the close of the war—the number ol
pensioners on the rolls was 537,944,
while at the current fiscal year it will
be about 995,000. That is to say, it
has nearly doubled in the past eight
years, and is still growing. The an
nual pension expenditure is now equai
to three per cent, interest on a debt
of five billions of dollars, or about
twice the amount of the entire na
tional debt at the close of the war.
LISTEN TO YOURSELF.
Ah. tei.. jer, let mo hear you teaoh ; Ah. teacher, let me hear you teach ;
You have brave words from olden seers, You at old sage's feet have sat;
The lore of those long-bearded men Enow you the man within your coat,
Of all the far-off years; The man beneath your bat?
The gray, old thoughts of gray old men You know the thoughts that shaped the
Beneath the Asian stars. world,
Brought safe by faith through clashing From far-off centuries blown ;
years What says the man who talks with thee
Of unremembered wars. When thou art all alone ?
And you have read the huddled tomes Why should I listen to a man
Of many an alcoved shelf Who listens at the alcoved she'.f ?
But have you stood beneath the stars Man, let me hear a living man .
And listened to yourself ? Who listens to himself.
—Ham Walter Foss.
j A Balaclava Hero. [
WW W WWW WWWVVVW WTTV V vvvw
The head of an ogre crouching for
possible victims could have looked no
less grim than the huge, squat work
house standing back from the road.
Tall iron railings encircled it like a
collar of spikes, and a one-windowed
porter's lodge blinked bauefully at
passers-by.
A weary old man helped himself
along with the aid of a stick. He
straightened liis figure when he
reached the iodge and seemed to hesi
tate while he looked at the building
with dim, weak eyes, and the rushing
wind fluttered his clothes like rags on
a scarecrow.
He in a tie several steps forward,
then retreated. As he straightened
himself to walk,three medals for valor
jiugled loosely on his shrunken breast.
He glanced round nervously. There
was no one to watch. Ho was only a
hero,and he hesitated on the threshold
of the workhouse. He had braved the
Bussian cannon and had slipped down
a rope at Lucknowiuto a ruck of fren
zied sepoys. Why should he hesi
tate?
April rain began to pelter down fit
fully. He pulled his worn coat closer
over him and strode forward with
final resolution.
On the steps of the workhouse he
turned to get a last furtive glance at
the outer world. As the sun leaped
from behind a cloud it glittered on the
medals on his breast.
In the lodge a square-jowled luau,
with hard, straight creases in his sul
len face, was tapping abstractedly on
au old desk with an enormous key.
To an imaginative mind he would have
served as an admirable miniature por
trait of the workhouse itself.
"Name?" lie said,projecting himself
toward a big book.
"James Bedfern, late of the Tenth
Black Watch," auswered the old man.
.Tames Bedfern was past work and
explained this to the governor, who
promptly ordered him to break a hun
dredweight of stone as a preliminary
canter; this was probably to take the |
freshness out of him and to disillusion
hi 111 as to his incapacity for work.
Redfern was locked in a cell fur- |
nished with great jagged lumps of :
stone, and it was his compulsory duty
to break them into pieces small enough
to pass through a grating in the wall.
The old man toiled hour after hour,
but his weak blows seemed to be
rather caressing the stone than break
ing it. At length, in the afternoon,
he fell forward over his hammer and
the jagged stones that littered the
floor.
"Hello!" said the square-jowled
warder, opeuing the door. "None of
this, yer know. This ain't a ladies'
boodoir. This ain't a "
He jerked the old man face up. His
features were cut with tho jagged
stone,aud black lines of hunger ringed
his eyes.
When the warder, by twirling Red
fern's hand round ami round uud by
pinching his arm,had satisfied himself
that there was no shamming, the old
mau was removed to the infirmary.
He was a very light burden, aud a
stalwart casual slung him over liis
shoulder and carried him off jauntily,
like a sack of flour. When he came
to, the doctor ordered him boiled eggs
aud a nourishing diet for a day or
two.
A card to this effect was liuug over
his bed with string. A pauper ill the
next bed, who suffered from epileptic
tits, anathematized the old man gar
rulously. The boiled eggs seemed
particularly to rouse his ire. Every
time the warder passed to the other
end of the long room he would lift
himself on his elbow aud scream across
the intervening space: "B'iled eggs!
yah!" He put such an amount of con
demnation into this phrase that the
other patients took up the matter aud
by muttered and disjointed conversa
tion arrived at the opinion that the
old soldier was a parlous ruffian, a
presumer on generosity, an interloper
aud a thief.
In three days tlie doctor certified
that Redfern was able to leave his
bed, and the old mau meekly rose
and huddled his painful limbs into
his garments.
Redfern went iuto the office of the
square-faced warder, who said that he
must return to breaking stones pr
leave the house. There was to be a
meeting of the guardians that after
noon, however, and he had the option
of applying to them for lighter work.
• The square-faced man took out of
his desk the three medals which Red
fern had been obliged to temporarily
surre„der on his entrance.
"They ain't bad medals, are they?"
said the square-fa?ed man."l sup
pose they are worth five bob apiece?"
"They are worth more than that to
me," said ltedferu.
''Wouldn't seH'em,then,l suppose?"
said the warder.
"No, I wouldn't sell them for any
thing; they are the only things I have
left to remiud me that I've been a sol
dier!"
"But they ain't much good to yer
now, yer know," said the warder.
"Look 'ere; I'll offer yer a bargain.
You ain't got no reg'lar rights to stop
ill this workus, but if you'll make me
a present of these ere medals I'll see
as they don't chuck you out yet a
while."
If he had said the same thing 30
years before, Bedfern would probably
have broken some of the bones in his
thievish body. As it was he said:
"Oh,no;you must give me my medals.
I must have them on when I die; yon
can have them after—yon can have
them after. lam the last of the old
regiment. When I die they'll all be
gone. I must have my medals when
I die; they wouldn't take me back in
the regiment. If I parted with them
the colonel would say: 'Bedfern,
where are your medals?' Then I
should be turned out of my regiment.
Yes, I must wear my medals."
Tho old fellow had muttered these
last words as though to himself. It
was clear that his weakness had ren
dered him slightly delirious.
"Well," said the warder, "I'll save
them for yon, shall I?" Then, with
out further ado, he slipped them, rib
bons and all, into his pocket.
The moment he did this his urbanity
vanished,and he resumed his ordinary
manner.
"Come, get out of here and get to
work! Don't try to come that old-age
dodge on me!"
He called another warder, who took
Bedfern in hand and jogged him along
toward the stone-breaking cells.
This time Bedfern's stock of stones
had been reduced to half; but when
he was locked in and told togo to
work he could not even raise the
heavy hammer above his head.
Two hours later, when the warder
came to summon him bef<%e the meet
ing of the guardians, he was still sit
ting there, his thin face gray with
suffering, and the long scar placed on
his cheek by the sabre of a Bussian at
Alma stood out white and ugly. It
was the mark of a blow he had re
ceived for his country. The warder
reached forward and struck him over
the shoulder with a stick.
"I wish you would not hit me,"
said Bedfern. "I'll do what you tell
me, but you see 1 couldn't break the
stones, I was so tired."
"Oh, yes; we know all about that!"
retorted the warder; "we have had
some of your sort before. If you ask
me,you'll just have to pop out of here
as soon as the guardians get their eyes
on you."
The warder was not supposed to
know that Bedfern was a man who
had been mentioned three times in
despatches from the seat of war. He
was not conscious that the medals he
then had in his pocket were worth
more than the paltry shillings they
would bring at a pawnshop.
So he forced Bedfern roughly for
ward toward the council chamber of
gentlemen who were waiting to decide
whether this pauper was to be allowed
to subsist 011 the spare bounty of their
parish or even to be cast into the
streets to die of hunger.
The room in which the guardians
sat was well furnished aud lighted,
and IK dignified geutleinen sat to the
right aud left of a fat, gray-haired
chairman.
Bedfern stood before the table of
the chairman, who questioned him as
to his place of birth.
"Why, you don't belong to this par
ish at all!" he said, in feigned amuse
ment.
This was a signal for four pompons
gentlemen to enter violent and indig
nant protest against such a pernicious
state of affairs. They characterized
Bedfern's action in coming there as
criminal beyond measure.
The fact that he entered the work
house as a "casual" and then, by art
ful trickery,sought to live in ease and
luxury at the expense of the rate-pay
ers of that borough, tilled them with
horror.
As they uttered these denunciations
they looked meaningly at one long
haired and one spectacled reporter,
who had exchanged winks and were
scratching down insane hieroglyphics
at the top of their speed.
The old man's wits at once left him.
He seemed to conceive that he had
been guilty of a hideous piece of de
ception. He answered the other
questions with an air of meek peni
tence.
"Have you no family to look after
you?"
"Yes," answered the old man; "I
have a son, but I have not seen him
for more than 20 years! He was a
line lad. At Alma the colonel said to
me, after I had saved his life: 'Pri
vate Redfern, hew shall I reward you?
You may ask me anything, and I will
do it for you.' 'Look after my son,'
I said, 'if you would be so kind. He
lias 110 mother, aud he is a tine boy.'
"When the colonel came back he
took mv boy. I used to write to the
lad, but I got up into northern Can
ada, and I lost the habit of writing.
When I came baclr, an old man, to
look for the boy, I could not find him.
My old colonel is dead. But if my
boy is nlive and hears that his old
father is here, he'd take hinr away
—yes, he'd take him away. But I
can't find him," went on the old man.
"He was only five years old when I
saw liiin last. He would not know me
now if he saw me."
"Oh. we dou't want any of tho*e
sort of tales here!" said the guardian.
"Either you have a family to support
you or have not. If you have, tliej
must take you out of here and look
after you. If you have not, you must
turn out and chance your luck. You
are only 75; you ought to work for
your living! You look big enough.
Look at me. lam not so big as you
—a bit fatter, perhaps —and I work
every day of my life."
He went into a comfortable office
for an hour or two every day; the rest
of his time he spent in eating or in
sleeping, preparatory to eating more.
The guardians all pretended to dis
believe Redfern's story about his sou,
aud finally, on the evidence of the
warder, who testified that the old
man was lazy and good-for-nothing,
they gave him two hours in which tc
leave the workhouse.
Bedfern's face was gray with suffer
ing, and shooting pains from an old
wound in his shoulder caused him
agony. His knees trembled visibly,
and his eyis grew dim and restless.
He summoned strength at last to ask
the guardians if he might have back
the medals that had been taken from
him.
However, as the warder swore that
he had never seen the medals, which
at that very moment were resting in
his pockets, the virtuous, well-fed
guardians of the poor ordered the old
man indignantly from their presence.
He tried to protest, but the warder
scowled furiously at him and pinched
his arm for him to stop.
Then Bedfern's weakness overcame
him. He pitched heavily forward to
the floor. He was taken to the infir
mary again, and the doctor said that
in a few hours he would be well enough
togo out.
When the old man came to he saw
the warder directing the scrubbing
and cleaning of the ward with unusual
care, while women paupers were fas
tening up fresh curtains to the win
dows. There was an air of bustle and
preparation about the room such as he
had never noticed before.
A warder, noticing that he was
awake, ordered him to get off the bed
aud smarten himself up. The pauper
told him that Captain Armitage and
his young wife were coming to look
over the workhouse. The captain
was a tine young fellow,and he owned
most of the land round that part.
All the paupers whispered incessant
ly tho name of Captain Armitage, and
at last something in its sound awoke
the old man's memory.
"Armitage—Armitage? Why, that
was my old colonel's name," he said.
"Ah, but this is a young man, and my
colon"l is dead. Yes, he is dead; I
shall be dead soon. I shall hear him
say: 'Redfern, you have been men
tioned again in the despatches.' Then
he'll say—yes,he'll say"—the old man
felt nervously over the breast of his
coat—"he'll say: 'Redfern, where are
your medals?' Yes, 1 must have my
medals."
He tried to raise himself from the
bed on which he was sitting, but the
weakness held him prisoner.
Presently a carriage came through
the great gate at the entrance to the
workhouse. At last a gentleman, tall
and handsome, entered the room with
a lady—a young lady, very little more
than a girl, on his arm. She looked
about her compassionately. But her
eyes wandered back incessantly to the
features of the strong man by her
side, who in his turn looked down at
her smilingly and with abounding
love and affection.
As the captain and his beautiful
young wife came to each bed they ex
changed words of comfort with the oc
cupant. At last the} - drew near the
bed 011 which Redfern sat, fully
dressed, his hands clasped together
and his eyes bent dreamily 011 the
floor.
The little lady walking by the cap
tain's side, with a look at her hus
band, stepped forward and touched
his hand softly. He started and
glanced up.
Captain Armitage noticed the cut on
his cheek.
"How did you get that scar?" he
said.
"I was a soldier," replied the old
man."l got it at Alma."
"Why, my husband's father was at
Alma,and so was mine!" said the little
lady. 'Tell us about it, can you?"
Then the old man told his story.
Captain Armitage was bending ovei
him, deeply interested. Suddenly he
gave a start and, dropping on one
knee, took the old man's hand in
his.
"Is your name Redfern?" he said.
"Yes, "answered the old man,' 'James
Redfern."
Captain Armitage did not vise from
his knee. He held out his hand to
his wife and,drawi.ig her toward him,
placed her hand in that of the old
man.
"Ma'ide," he said, slowly, "this is
my father."
Then the beautiful girl bent ovei
and kissed the old man on the lips.
When James Redfern had swallowed
a dose of brandy, which the square
faced warder brought with much
promptitude and politeness. Captain
Redfern-Armitage, who had adopted
the latter name when he married Col
onel Armitage's daughter, explained
everything to him.
"Yes, you are my father. I have
searched for you for years, but now
that we have found you we will ne\er
leave you."
Then Captain Armitage and his
beautiful wife gave old James Bedfern
an arm each, and the thiee walked
dowu the ward out of the workhouse.
At the gate the square-jowled warder
hurried up and handed the old man
his medals. Captain Armitage's wife
pinned them on the old plan's coat,
and they stepped iuto the carriage.
"Where to, sir?" asked the foot
man.
"Home!" answfed the youug man.
—Answer#.
LULLABY,
Tcace be unto thee—hush, my child—
Heaven's little one undettled;
Mt-Htla close to your mother's breast,
Sail away to the land of rest;
Sweetest blessing from paradise—
Ilest, my little one; close your eyes;
Angels ever their vigils keep—
Sleep, my precious, my baby, sleep.
Sleep, baby, sleep;
Mother dear will hold thee;
Sleep, baby, sleep;
Mother's arms enfold thee,
Sleep, my little one; sleep, my pr»
clous one—
Sleep, baby, sleep.
Peace be unto thee, gift divine;
Sweet and innocent baby mine.
Never a roy«l diadem
Held so pure a priceless gem.
All the world IB as naught to me
Mother's baby—compared to thee.
Sweetest blessing from paradise—
Rest, my little one; close your eyes.
—Dave Florence.
HUMOROUS.
"Why, I thought she was an old
maid!" "Nest thing to it. She's
been married only once."
A man these days should cover his
legs with barbed wire, and even theD
he isn't safe from having them pulled.
"What is an investment, grandpa?"
"Well, it is giving a man a 05 dinner
and then selling him a s'2ooo bill of
goods."
Hojnck —Who was the best man at
the wedding of Mr. Meeker and the
Widow Sway back? Tomdik The
Widow Sway back.
He—Do you believe that germs can
be transmitted by kissing? She—l
don't know; but I'm very fond of sci
entific experiments.
Editor—Why didn't you send the
carrier-pigeon from the Klondike with
news, as agreed? Reporter—Couldn't.
Got hungry and ate the bird.
"He told me he could live on bread
and cheese and kisses." "What then?"
"I found out that he expected papa to
furnish the bread and cheese."
Coal Operator (despondently) I
wish a way could be found to relieve
*' ■ glut in the coal market. Consumer
.. intidentially) Tell the dealers to
give better weight.
Briton—Do you know that it is a
matter of history that Wellington
never saw Napoleon? Yankee—ls
that so? I always understood that he
saw him and went him several better.
Mabel—So you have broken the en
gagement. Have you returned his,
ring? Amy—Why, no! Of course I
have changed my opinion of George,
but 1 admire the ring just as much as
ever.
"I envy the Badgleys more than
any married people I know.""For
what special reason?" "Well, he is
over sixty and she is over fifty; but
she calls him 'boy' aud he calls her
•girl.'"
Little Edward —Papa, what is an
agnostic? Papa—Your mamma is an
agnostic, mv dear. When I come
home at night aud tell her what I
have been doing, she doesn't exactly
disbelieve—she just doesn't kuow.
Mother—l don't understand you at
all. You are constantly praising Miss
Wlurly now, and you used to insist
that you couldn't bear her. Daughter
—But I didn't know, then, mamma,
that she was jealous of me. It's just
too sweet of her.
"Well," said the young man with
the long hair, after the editor had
hauiled him back his spring poem,
"what would you be willing to give
me for it?" "Oh, about ten years, if
I could have my way,"the discourager
of genius replied.
Miss Redding—l declare! I be
lieve it is a fact that Reggy Dusnap
sent his man to propose to Miss Rose
bud for him. Pruyn No; that's
only gossip. I know the fucts. He
merely sent him afterward to ask the
old man's consent.
"Did you ever hear the story about
the extreme paucity of the rabbit's
tail?" asked the typewriter boarder,
who has been taking folk-lore lectures.
"Before we proceed," said the Cheer
ful Idiot, "is this a tale of hare, a
tail of hare, a tale of hair or a tail of
hair?"
Harold lias a pair of twin aunties
who look and dress so exactly alike
that it is difficult to tell which is Miss
Mary aud which Miss Martha. One
day a lady said to Harold: "I don't
see how you can tell your two aunties
apart." "Oh, that's easy enough,"
replied Harold, "for Auntie Mary
looks a good deal more alike than
Auntie Martha."
Insmie After Sliding Itnwn »>lke'« Peak.
Joe Bradley, the Rocky mountain
trapper, whose terrible slide on the
surface of an avalanche down Pike's
Peak last December was one of the
most appaliug adventures that ever
befell a uumau being, lost his reason
through the combined effects of his
sufferings and fright. This fact did
not appear in the detailed account of
the thrilling slide printed at the time,
but such appears to be the fact.
The Trinidad (Col.) Republican is
to hand, with the following reference
to the hero of that wonderful adven
ture:
"Joe Bradley, the unfortunate pros
pector, who roile an avalanche down
Pike's Peak on December '2O, was ar
rested at Florence as an escaped luna
tic, and returned to the Pueblo asy
lum. The exposure undergone by
Bradley, who was unconscious for sev
eral hours, and whose members were
badly frozen, caused his mind to give
way, and he was admitted to the in
sane asylum soon after his terrible
experience on the Peak."
Too Henvy.
"My wife cast some bread on the
waters once," remarked the young
man reluctantly.
"Did it ever return?" asked the
other.
"No," was the reply; "it sank."—
Erooklyn Life.