a San i z - road, ‘pieces to speak” in existence.—Editors. It looked extremely rocky for the Mudville nine that day; The score stood four to six, with just an inning leit te play; So, when Cooney died at first, and Burrows did the s A pallor wreathed the features of the patrons of the game. A straggling few got up to go, leaving there the rest With that hope which springs eternal within the human breast; For they thought if only Casey could get one whack, at that They’d put up even money, with Casey at the bat. But Fiynn preceded Casey. and likewise so did Blake, And the former was a pudding, and the 86 of'that stricken multitude a deathlik s a fake; . af For there seemed but little chance of Casey's getting to the bat But Flynn let drive a single, to the wonderment of ail, And the much-despised Blakey tore the cover off the ball; And when the dust had lifted, There was Blakey safe on second, It bounded from Wis mountain- top, 1t struck upon the hil For Casey, There was ease in Casey's There was pride in Casey’ And when, No stranger in Ten thousand eyes were on him and they saw and Flynn a-hugging thir a te in the side, and rebounded on the fiat; mighty Casey, was advancing to the bat. manner as he stepped into his s bearing and a smile on Case responding to the cheers, the crowd could doubt ’ what had occurred, he lightly doffed his Ti ‘twas Casey at the bat. as he rubbed his hands with dirt. Five thousand tongues applauded him when he wiped them on his shirt; Then, while the writhing pitcher ground the ball into his hip, Defiance glanced in Casey’s eye, a sncer curled Casey’s lip. And now the leather-covered sphere came hurtling through the air, And Casey stood a-watching it in haughty grandeur there; Close by: the sturdy batsman the ball unheeded sped; “That ain’t my style,” said Casey. ‘Strike one, the umpire said. From the benches, black with people, there went up a muffled roar, Like the beating of the storm-waves on a stern end distant shore; “Kill him! kill the umpire!” And it's With a smile of risen charity great Casey’s he bade Fhe game go on; He stifled the rising multitude; He signaled to the “pitcher, But Casey still ignored it; “Fraud!” cried But one scornful 1 They saw look from Casey his face grow and once more and the umpire said, the maddened thousands, and the echo answered, and the audience was awe stern and cold, shouted some one on the stand, s likely they'd have killed him had not Casey raised his hand. visage shone; the spheroid flew, “Strike two.” Fraud}? they saw his muscles “strain, And they kenw that Casey wouldn’t let the ball go by again. The sneer is gone from Casey's s lip, his teeth are clenched with hate; He pounds with cruel vengeance his bat upon the plate; And now the pitcher holds the ball, and now he lets it go, And now the air is shattered by the force of Casey’s blow. Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright, The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light, 1 And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout; But there is no joy in Mudville-—mighty Casey has struck out. + THE LAWYERS STORY. # =p @d=—D A Spzculation in Real Estate and What Came of It. By CHARL ES BONNET, ESQ.,, OF THE PHILADELPHIA BAR. Nr ammeter OME years ago an old resi- dent of Philadelphia died childless, leaving a small state which he directed by his will to be equally di- vided between Lis widow and his only sister. The estate con- sisted of a substantial home in the city and an acre of ground in the coun- try, besides some money in bank and a few well-invested securities. The sis- ter resided in a distant State, and in order that her interests might be prop- erly cared for, she engaged the services of an attorney at Philadelphia; the widow in like manner, being ignorant of such matters, employed me as coun- sel to see that she also was protected in her rights under her husband's will. The personal estate of the testator was easily divided, but it became nec- essary to sell the real estate and divide the proceeds. For the home place we soon found a purchaser who paid for it in cash. The lot of ground in the coun- try was not so easily disposed of. It was situated in a pleasant part of West Philadelphia, out on the Darby not far from the Schuylkill, and was at that time laid out on the city maps as a building site between two streets, but the streets were not much traveled and the country round about was thinly and poorly settled. Long after the money and stocks which the old gentleman left had been shared De- tween his widow and sister, and long after his old home had been sold and the proceeds of its sale distributed as he directed, the country lot remained on our hands. The sister's attorney and myself advertised it in all the city papers, as “for sale, cheap, to close an estate;”’; we mentioned it to real estate agents, who also advertised it as = special bargain in suburban property,’ but all to no purpose; it would not sell. For more than two years this little acre of land remained to perplex and prevent us from effecting a final settle- ment of the estate, when one day it occurred to me to buy the ground my- self. I did not want it and had never seen it, but if I could purchase it at a price which all the parties interested might agree upon as fair, the estate could be settled, and some day the poor acre which had so long begged a purchaser might prove a bonanza to my children. “Who knows?’ sajd I. ‘Stranger things have happ d and happen every day.” I made the proposition of purchase first to the attorney of the sister, mentioning the amoun i which I would pay and all the det: of settiément. He wrote to his client, and in due season my offer was-accept- #d by her. Then I made the same proposition to the widow, my own client, advising her before accepting to make thorough inquiry among her friends as to the propriety of so doing. It is a position of extreme delicacy when an agent or atto to purchase for himself the property which he is employed to sell to others, and no one can 8 - that po- sition without invitin st seru- tiny and letting in the broadest day- light upon the whole transaction. She considered my proposition fully, con- sulted many acquainted with the value of country real estate (wio afterward mentioned to me that they had been consulted), and finall 3 t- eq my offer. In the autumn persons » undertakes’ of 188-- ’ she and her sister-in-law executed to me a deed of the ground, the money was divided between them, and their testator’s estate was thus entirely dis- posed of to the satisfaction of all con- cerned. I did not undertake to inspect my newly acquired investment until the following spring, when one beautiful Sunday afternoon in early May, I started with my eldest son to see if 1 could find it. We rode together to the termination of the line of horse cars and then with rapid strides we paced the long street on which one end of my acre presented a frontage, according to the plat, of about one hundred and twenty feet. The “street” on which we walked was sufficiently discernible, and to the left of us, high up on a ridge, was the other ‘‘street’” on which the other end of my acre presented a like frontage. Landmarks there were none, and al- though we perceived signs of civiliza- tion and modest prosperity all about, here a house, yonder a country church, up, on the ridge a cluster of cottages and over there a schoolhouse, I could not locate my own particular property anywhere. We returned home, and a few days afterward I wrote to a sur- veyor, giving him an exact description of the property and requesting him to survey it for me. “Plant at each of its four corners,”” I wrote him, “a tall cedar post, so that when I go out there I can locate the lot and build a fence around it if I shall so desire.” Within a week: the surveyor called at my office to say that he had surveyed the ground according to instructions. “And let me tell you that it is a fine lot, too; one of the best in all that re- gion.” “Is it indeed! You surprise me. I had supposed it was an inferior prop- erty, and on a recent occasion I could not find it. Did you erect the posts as I requested? The mere survey is of no use to me unless you put something round by which I can find its I had no occasion to do that.” “Why not?’ “Tor the simple reason that your lot already has a good fence around it, and a fine house within the fence, and a big barn, and a stable and cowshed, and “What!” I exclaimed, him in amazement. “Qh, ves; and there are people living in the house, and it is 211 brand new, and must have cost several thousands of dollars. You don’t need to put up interrupting any posts.” This was startling information, in- g , deed. “Is your team at tae door? you drive me out there at ” 01 102? #1 willl” During the long drive into the coun- try with the surveyor it became ap- parent to me that somebody had either taken possession of my property with the deliberate intention to deprive me of it, or else had committed the egre- gious blunder of building on my lot by mistake for his own. The latter was more probable unless the surveyor him- self was at faull . Again, in a carriage, I passed over the same avenue which I and my son “There is your house,” said the sure veloy, pointing to the rear of the larg- est and finest of the cottages on the ridge, “and that is your barn on this side of it. Your ground extends from one street to the other, and this street is the rear because the house fronts on the other, up on the ridge, which is higher and better ground.” Yes, it was perfectly plain. 1 had seen this identical place a short time before, but I had not recognized it as my own, because I did not then know that I was the owner of a new house with a tenant in it, and a barn, a sta- ble and shed, on my despised country acre; and all these improvements, be- ing permanent in their nature and af- fixed to my soil without my consent, were in law my property. Arrived at the house, I observed a pretty front fence newly painted, and a well-laid brick pavement leading from the front gate to the front piazza; in the piazza were hung at intervals baskets of ferns and flowers, and on the lawn were numerous flower beds, in the arrangement of which my tenant had displayed much taste, and in the choice of flowers a nice discrimination. The house itself was a three-story structure, quite ornamental in style, and the whole premises were very new, In answer to the bell appeared a moth- erly lady who ushered us into the par- lor, which was well, even luxuriously, furnished. A soft carpet covered the floor, handsome pictures adorned the walls, a piano occupied a cheery cor- ner, and everything in and about the place indicated that I had secured a tenant who would undoubtedly take good care of the premises and was abundantly able to pay the rent. The conversation which ensued was positively painful. It appeared that the lady before us was a widow; that her husband had died in the previous summer, leaving her a few thousand dollars, which were all she had: that she desired to purchase a small place in the ecauntry where she might end her days, and she had been recom- mended to this neighborhood; that some friend had inquired about the price of the surrounding property. and at his suggestion, during the winter, she had invested a few hundreds of dollars in a lot on which, as she sup- posed, she had built all these improve- ments this spring; that at about the time of their completion she had learned in some way that she had built, not on the property which had bought, but en the land adjoining; and that ever since the discovery of her mistake she had been in the greatest distress of mind imaginable, because she feared that the owner of the ground on which she had built would take measures to deprive her of the improvements she had made, and thus sweep away nearly all that she pos- sessed in the world. She was not in the least surprised when I announced myself as the person she had so much dreaded to see. “While the law would undoubtedly give me all the improvements which you have affixed to my soil without any consent on my part,” I began, with considerable embarrassment, “you shall continue to own them. My dear madam, do not think that I would do you the wrong of appropriating them.” “Oh, it is terrible, sir,” murmured the much agitated little widow, with an evident lump in her pretty throat. “You are very generous, sir—but—oh; how will it all end? I can not let you do it. Either you must let me buy your ground or you must buy my house and improvements.” 1 hastened to assure her that I would do anything in reason. As the improvements were of much more value than the ground, and as she had selected the place for a home while I had bought merely on specula- tion, I suggested that she should pur- chase the ground. During the course of the conversation she gradually lost all sense of uneasiuess, as it became evident to her that I did not intend to take undue advantage of her error, and when I finally offered her the ground she put a purchase price upon it which I accepted at once. In less than a week she received a deed from me conveying the her the entire premises “with all the improvements thercon” (so ran the deed) in fee simple; I had in exchangé more than double the amount of money which I had paid for the property less than six months before: the poor little acre which for more. than two years I could not sell to anybody at any price suddenly found a most eager buyer, at a fancy price of her own naming; and I was put to the necessity of planting posts at the corners of some other real es- tate. That is the story. It is true that no sooner had the conveyance been effect- ed than I began to wish I had not done it; that the widow insisted on my staying to dinner; and that after dinner she drove me into town behind her spanking bays. But I can hardly sup- pose that you will be interestad in these things.—The Pathfinder. she The Hatless Fashion an Old One. The fashion in London of going out Hareheaded, which is becoming so com- mon, is not a new one, but a return of a very old custom. Time was when only kings wore hats, other people be- ing conte nt with having hoods attached to the outer garments, which they svore or discarded at pleasure. Stow, the historian, mentions that no one wore anything except the Lord Mayor of London, who sometimes donned a hat on state occasions. In the reign of Henry VIII, he says: “The citizens Just Shopping. “Where are you going, my pretty maid?” “I’m going a-shopping, s she said. “And what are you et ing, my pretty maid?’ “Nothing; I'm shopping—that’s all,” said. —Seattle Post-Intelligencer. Her Speciaity.” Bleeker—“Your wife is something of a wit. She tried to make game of me at the reception last night.” Meeker—" Huh! That's nothing. She often makes me quail.”—Chicago News. Uncertainty. “What time does this {rain arrive at Swamp Centre?” asked the traveling man. “My friend,” was the answer, “I'm only a conductor. I'm not a fortune teller.”—Washington Star, By Contrast Tom—“Hew did you feel when Miss Moneybags accepted you?” Dick—“Fine! You sce, we were at the opera, and the girl in the next box was a beauty !”—Translated for Tales from Meggendorfer Biactter, First Gun, Jack—“I am so glad we are.-engaged. You know it is love that makes the world go round.” Helen—*“Yes, but it is not love that makes a man zo round at nights after he is married.””—Chicago News. In the Police Court.” “What! You want the court to be lenient because you have been broughi before it a dozen times?” “Yes, your honor, I expect to be treated like a regular customer.”— Translated for Tales from Les Annales. The Accidensz. I Mrs. Hogan—“An’ how did the baby git the fall?” Mrs. Grogan—“His father wor hould in’ him in his arms whin the whistle blew.”—New York Evening Mail. Necessary Modification. Knox—“Why don’t you cut that out? Tone your talk down a bit.” Kandor—“Well, it’s all right to call a spade a spade, isn’t it?” Knox — “Instead c 1lling it you might whisper = occasionally.”’—Phila- delphia Press. His Specialty. “Gragley tells me he is doing won: derful work with his present employer, I didn’t know he was particularly strong in business.” “He isn't. He’s merely particularly strong in talking about business.”— Philadelphia Press. A Knowing Waiter. ‘the Waiter—“What's for you, sir?” The Professor (engrossed in a prob- lem)—“In the corelation of forces it is a recognized property of atomic frag- ments, whatever their age, to join and—" The Waiter—*‘ ’Ash, one.”—Sketch, His New Vocation. “John’s home from college.” “Yes.” “What's he goin’ to do now ?” “Well, 'twixt you an’ me, 1 think he's jest about decided to loaf around an’ be one o’ these here incomprehen- sible geniuses.”—Atlanta Constitution JIis Mistake. Mr. Slimsky—*“I don’t believe the city water is safe. I notice it has a cloud- ed appearance this morning and tastes sort of—milky—and—" Mrs, Starvem—“That glass contains milk, Mr. Slimsky; the water is at your left. And, by the way, your board bill was dueyesterday.”—Cleveland Leader. moar The Sure Way. Hicks— “How did Tompkyns make all his money, anyhow?’ Wicks—“Out of ginseng.” Hicks—“Raising it?” Wicks—“No; selling roots and seeds to people who believe that there is a royal road to fortune.” — Somerville Journal. Natural Inference. Mrs, Smith—