ONE YEAE IN fcEAVEN. BY EBEN E. mEXKOBD. Due year in Heaven. O. blue-eyed little darling, Ono year an angel by tho throne of God; A flower of earth to the garden, Whero never yet a grave has marred the sod. 0, child, bo dear, we often feel you near ua, Here, as of old, beaide each loving heart; We call your name, and love to think you hoar Here, yet in Heaven—ao near, yet far apart. Bo far apart? No, 'tin not far to Heaven. (toil's world and ours touch iu the grave's green aod, Aud what wo lose on earth in pain and sorrow We find in gladness in the world of God. 0, happy voice, that drove away all sorrow From those who loved you in this lower laud, How sweet tho songs are that you join iu siug iug— Too sweet, as yet, for us to understand. How sweet tho thought. In Heaven a fair, pure angel v< > r iiioro Though we arc poor in all of earth's possessions, In God's dear world what treasure is in store 0, joy abovo ail other joys, to a< o thee, To clasp thee, kiss thee, have thee as of old, And know in Heaven there is no loss or parting, Hut always joy and happiness untold. Watch for us, darling. Watch and wait our coining. He at the golden gate to lot us through, And may the sight that greets us first in Heaven Be one, wo pray, dear little ono, of you. { Khiocton, Wis. LOVE IN A CAB. BY JULIA E. LEWIS. Englewood is not a very largo place and is uot apt to grow much, for the simple reason that it is situated some four miles from a railway station. Tlie town was settled long before tlio rail road was built, and when the survey ors were at work on the route of tlie road, they made arrangements to make that place one of their priucipal sta tions. They never thought that they would be hindered in this plan, but they did not know the people of Engle wood. There were only two classes of peo ple in that town. One class included the residents who had lived in that town all their lives, and whose chil dren would most likely occupy the same houses, pursue the same busi ness, and do just exactly the same things as their ancestors had done. This class was decidedly averse to any thing new. They hated improve ments, frowned down every enterprise that would change the primitive meth od of doing business in Englewood, and endeavored to make that town the same old sleepy place it always had been. The other class comprised a number of newcomers, who were anx ious to see Englewood improve, but, seeing no indications that such a state of things would occur, were for mak ing all the money they could out of the s>roperty they owned in Englewood. Jetweeu the two classes the railroad company had a hard time of it. The old-time citizens positively refused to sell an inch of the ground to the rail road company, resisted all their ef forts to secure ground, and by legisla tion hampered the company with such, restrictions that the operating expenses; in the vicinity of Englewood would; have been much greater than on any other portion of the lino. The other! olass of people, thinking that the com- 1 pany would bo compelled to tap Englewood, asked such awful prices for their ground that the railroad com pany refused to negotiate with them. To solve the difficulty a new route was surveyed, and the road branched off in another direction, the nearest point to Englewood it touched being at Clif- ton, some four miles away. A line of coaches and a few cabs carried passen gers from Englewood to Clifton. One night in September, I took the train from New York to Clifton. I was feeling miserable, and no wonder, for I was just about bidding farewell to all my friends in Englewood, to leave the associations I had grown up with since childhood, and go to far-distant California to commence life anew. Up to two weeks before that time I had considered myself one of tho luckiest lawyers in that portion of the country. I had a good practice, splendid pros pects, and enjoyed the best of health. Suddenly there came a sorrow into my lifo that made me make up my mind to break all tho ties that bound me to Englewood and its people, and go to a portion of the United States where I was unknown. As you no doubt liavo, ere this, fathomed the sorrow, I might as well confess and tell you it was a woman that caused me to make this resolution. She was the fairest crea ture in Englewood, with rippling golden hair, laughing blue eyes, and 21 complexion that needed no artificial embellishment to enhance its beauty. I hud loved Ethel Linton for years, but being one of those men whoso bravery and courage all ooze out of them when talking to a beautiful woman, I had never asked if my love was returned. True it was that Ethel always treated me in a cordial, friend ly way, but she did the same with all the rest of licr admirers, and 1 never could tell whether she loved me or not. At last, I made up my mind that the torture would have to end, and I nerved myself to ask the question which would make mo either happy or miserable. For weeks I ondeavoreff to secure a favorable opportunity, but Ethel always seemed to divine my in tentions, and 011 some pretext or an other would turn the conversation to some other subject. I tried in every way possible to find the time when I could delivor tho carefully prepared speech I had rehearsed offering her niv hand and heart, but it came not. If I became soutimental in my talk Ethel woulk dash into some prosaic subject that would take all tho romance out of me. If I asked her for a few moments' serious conversation, she would tell mo that lifo was too short to indulge iu seriousness, and would break out into a rapid description of somo gay ball or party she had attended. At last, angered by her seeming indiffer ence, I one evening called her a heart less coquette and left her, convinced that she was toying with my affections, and, unwilling to stay where I would bo perpetually reminded of my love for her, I made arrangements at onco to leave Englewood forever. I had almost completed arrangements for tho disposal of my practice, and had been in en iO.K to beetle everything defin itely. I was returning to Englewoodf to pack my trunk and leave that place the next day forever. As I thought Ethel was a coquette, I determined ' she should not see me again, so 1 took a late train from the city and intended leaving. Englewood in the morning. It was a terrible night. The rain was coming down in torrents, the thunder was roaring, and the sharp flashes of lightning made the few pas sengers in the car draw their heads away from the window. It was the kind of a night that would givo a man the "blues" if he had not the pleasure pf looking forward to a comfortable fire and cosy "room awaiting Him at home, j As I had no anticipations of such a joy, but was looking forward to say- I ing farewell to the familiar scenes of my life, on the next day, my feelings were decidedly morose. The train sped 011 and I thought how happy I could be if Ethel Linton were not heart less. Then I thought of the misery of : being separated from the only woman I had ever loved, and, as my miud lin- | gered on the subject, I clenched my fingers until the nails were driven deep into the palms of my hands. At last we reached Clifton, and I alighted. Hurrying along the plat form, to escape the rain, I reached a cab, the only one standing there. I engaged it, and jumped in. The long train moved off into the darkness of the night, and I was just congratulat ing mvself 011 the fact that theie were 110 other passengers for Englewood, who would disturb my gloomv thoughts ou my way there, when a trim, neat figure came along the station plat'orm. It was a female, and I mentally cursed my luck in being compelled to ride those four miles with a woman, and most likely being compelled to con verse with her, when I wanted to be alone with my thoughts. The driver waited for her, and when she came up said, "I'm sorry, Miss, but this cab is the only one here, and if you want to get to Englewood you'll have to put up with this gentleman as a passenger." Instantly my gallantry asserted it self, and jumping out of the cab I said, "Miss, you certainly will hare to occupy the cab with me, as there are no other conveyances here and it is too bad a night for either of us to walk." To my great surprise the lady raised her veil and said, "Thank yoi, Mr. Herriatt, I shall be happy to accept your kind offer and will occupy the cab with you." "Good enough," said the driver. And he assisted her in. Then he mounted the box and I, stunned by the thought that I would be compelled to ride four miles in a cab with a woman I was going to run away from, got in the car riage and sat beside her. The door closed and the drivor whipped up his horses and away we went. I drew myself to one side of the carriage and looked out of the window, but I could see nothing. Then I felt an irresist ible desire to hear Ethel talk once more. In a matter-of-fact tone I asked her liow.it was. she came to Clifton so a (IOOD ENOUGH," SAID THE DRIVE A'AD HE ASSISTED HER IN. late, and why it was that no one was [ thore to meet her. In a cool, deliber- I ate maimer she informed mo that she had been 011 a visit to her aunt in New York, and had missed an earlier train. Thinking that there would be plenty of conveyances at Clifton, she had not telegraphed to her father. Then we wore both silent, and wo heard noth ing but tho patter of the rain and the ; steady tramp of the horses' feet. The silence was terrible to me. My anguish increased as the thought hashed across my mind that this would be the last time I should ever bo in Ethel Lin ton's company. Witli each successive flash of lightning I looked at Ethel, but there was 110 encouragement there. She sat with her beautiful faco close up to the window peering out into the darkness. At last a brilliant inspiration came into my head. Here I had been trying for months to secure a favorable op portunity to tell Ethel Linton of my love, and now that chance had coma and I was neglecting it. She could not put me off with any trival excuse now but would be compelled to me. What would it matter if she did say no? I was going away anyway and L would have the satisfaction ol knowing that ray lovo was not returned and possibly this would enable me ti forget her. My mind was fully made up and the very thought gave me courage. Just then we reached a bad portion of the road and the cab gave n lurch. Ethel gave a little scream and as the side of the carriago she was on' went up in tho air she nestled close tc mo. I instantly placed my arm around her waist and held her there. The danger of upsetting was over in a mo ment, for wo struck a level piece ol road just then, but I still held on to Ethel. Then in impassioned tones I poured forth the story of my love. 1 told her how I had loved her for years, how on account of that love I was going far away on the morrow and pleaded with her for an answer. To my delight there was murmured a sweet littlo "yes," which, though not a very intelligent answer to the last question, convinced me flint Ethel loved me. I Instantly my gloomy feelings were ! driven away by the sun of joy and I olessed tho weather, tho cabmen who ! had stayed at home and in fact every thing that had helped me to thus se cure a definite answer to my proposal. When I had formerly traveled be tween Clifton and Englewood I 1 thought that those four miles were tho ' ! longest ever heard of, but that night rit seemed as if we fnirlv flew along the road, for we reached Englewood in what seemed a very short time. I left Ethel at her father's door, and as I kissed her good night 1 said, "Darling, T won't go to California for several months and then it will be on my wedding trip." The next day|l changed all my plans and Hettlod down in Englewood, and in , ■a few months Ethel and I were mar- ' riod and took a wedding trip to Ccli fornia. We often talk about orr past live and I tell her how near she came to wrecking mine bv her coquetry, j She always tells me liow sorry she is, I but declares that she always loved mo j and only teased me so iu the hope that I "would speak out"and"aslf for her hand, so she could say "yes." Anyway I shall never forget the night I rode with Ethel from Clifton to Englewood, and whenever I see a cab I feel like taking off my hat \p it. He Wanted Vengeance. I had been riding in the same seat •with a very plain sort of man for the last twenty miles, when a couple boarded our car at a junction, and he 1 suddenly uttered a cuss word as long I as my arm. I saw that lie was excited by their advent, and natuinily inquired if he knew them. "Know 'em? Why, that woman is my wife!" lie hissed. "And who's the man?" "It's a feller she is eloping with!" "They haven't seen you yet, and they are nicely caught. How long ago did sileave ?" "Three days. I'll have a terrible re venge." 'Are you armed?" "No, I'm too dangerous when I'm aimed, and I left my revolver home." "Then you'll swoop down on the man j and break him in two?" 4 I orter, I suppose, but when I begin to swoop I don't know where to stop. I 1 might damage a dozen others. My 1 I revenge must be swift and terrible, however." "How do you propose to do?" "I dunno. How would you do?" "I should go for the man without delay." "Yes, that is the proper way, I sup pose, but if I get wild who's to hold me? I once started in to lick a man,', broke loose, and finally cleaned out a . whole town meeting. I must take j blood, vengeance, however." , "Perhaps if you would show yourself the man would slink off, and the wife return to your bosom," I suggested. "I dunno. If he would it would, be all right, but suppose he tried to bluff me? That would make a fiend of mo in a moment, and I should prob ably kill everybody in this car. I musV have blood, however." "Perhaps you could buy liim off," I said, meaning it for a stab. \ "Yes, I might, but I guess he'd want' more'n I've got." , "NVell, do you propose to sit here andj let another man walk off with your wife V" No! By the canopy of heaven! I do* 1 ' mand his heart's blood 1 Let me think. He's purty solid, isn't he?" "Yes." "Would probably fight? "I think so." "Don't look as if he would let go for $12?" "No." "Well, I must plan for a deep and lasting vengeance. Let me collect my thoughts." At that moment the women turned and saw him, and she at once arose and came back to the seat. He looked at her with open mouth, and she pointed her finger at him and said : "Thomas Jefferson 13aily, you open your yawp 011 this kyar and I'll make you wish you'd never been born! At tho next stop you git off, or my feller will make your heels break your neck! I've gone and left you, and that's all there is to it, and taint no use to bother us. Mind, now, or you'll hear from me!" And she went back to her seat, and Thomas Jefferson rode nine miles with out another word, and as a stop was reached he dropped off as humbly as you please. He stood beside the open window until tho train moved, and then whispered to me: "1 got off to collect my thoughts. Look out for me when I turn loose foi vengeance."—l Veto York Son. WHAT'S in a name? The richest Chinaman in the town of Seattle re> i'oices in the disoourugirg name of Bad _iuekee. MA DOE- -mat policeman tried to mash me when he helped me across the street. Don't you think he was rather presumptuous ? Jack—That's only a way of his. He tried to mash me last night with his club. A JERSEY CITY policeman having offered his hand to a young lady, which was refused, ho arrested her. "What is the charge?" asked the ser geant at the station house. "Resisting an offer, sir," was the reply. LIEUTENANT Don't you know enough to salute your superior officer? New Sentry—l did, sir. Lieutenant— I failed to see you. New Sentry—Just as you came along I said, "Hillo, there!" I guess you didn't hear me. INDIGNANT Actress -The idea that people should he allowed to liiss in tho theaters! It's perfectly outrageous! It is simply infamous to allow hissing. Husband and Manager—There, nny dear, calm yourself. Don't become hiss-terical about it. MIHS MAGRUDER— You say that tall, handsome man over there is a real for eign lord, Mr. Maginnis. How do you know? Maginnis—Yes, Miss Magru der, I'm quite sure he is. -He has tho rooms next to mice at tho hotel and I hear Him Heating Lis wife every morn ing. "WHY is it that Cawdle has such a gait? He acts all the time as if ho wore walking 011 tiptoe." "Well, you see he had three babies in quick suc cession up at his house, and the poor fellow actually can't break himself of going around as if he were afrid of dis turbing somebody." ON THE "CHONG ELIZA." BILL NYE AMONG THE ELITE OF TUP! FRENCH CAIMTAL. Dines in Mr. Eiffel's Tall Tower-White law ICeiU's Buhl Heail and .Superb Ke*i doiic—The Lattea' t'uutoe Hi)ih, but lie Hud to Have It. fjHE reception at the residence of the American Ministe* was about the tall est thing I have been at for some timo, says Bill Nye in one ot his letters to the Chicago Hera hi. The home of Mr. lleid is just oil' tho Choug Eliza and is a senso. The White House actually be comes a wigwam in comparison. It comes high, but White law is bound to have it. lie pays, as every one knows, $2,500 per year more rent" than his salary amounts to, and that shows this desire to do hte thing light. The entrance is very maun fl c nt indeed, and the residence itself is not only very grand, but richly fur nished. Whitelaw is a great social suc cess, and lor that we should honor him at the start. I have had no diplomatic relations with him, but socially Me un derstand ench other first rate. He likes i society and so do I. Frequently 1 put on Imy other clothes and go into society, I speak of the average rainfall, the mean I temperature, and the open winter, thus endearing myself to one and all. I then j go away. I I saw Senator Sherman and wife, also j Buffalo Bill; also many other Ameiicans. Miss Eames was on the programme and 1 sung charmingly. Mr. and Mrs. liiil and daughter were here. Mr. Hill is the President of the St. Paul, Minneapolis and Manitoba Builway. Tho two Misses Hill ure noted lor their agreeable man ners and exceedingly graceful manner of , conversing on all subjects. I might also j odd that, byway of relief, they are something interesting to meet. * One never henrs either of tho Misses Hill refer to the cost of their dresses, nor tell how much money pa has spent on cabs and tips since they came abroail. Among others woro Mrs. Helen Dauvrny Ward and Charles Kheinhart, John Hay and wife, Mr. and Mrs. Henry E. Abbey, and Theodore Tiltoa. The baud, after three weeks'rehearsal, played NYE ENJOYING HIMSELF. "Yaukoe Doodle" nnd"llnil Columbia." Tho fountains squirted and the pink | spinal columns of the American contin gent gleamed in tho soft, voluptuous I light along with the bald heads of ewU { uent men. | By tho way, the American Minister i cannot poko fun at me much longer on | tho dome business, for lie has n good ! sized skating rink on the back of his ' bond which the cartoonists ought to util i ize. We compared think tanks last evon j iug, and although I do not claim any ! thing in that lino ho is getting, as I say, i quite arid on top. However, Mr. and I Mrs. lteid are ably and luxuriously rep ; resenting the United Stutos and hold up ; the national fabric in good shape, a thing which in former yeais we have not had 1 too much of in our foroign ministers. Our ministeis have been, in many instances, a disgrace to tho uulpit. Frenchmen, old ones, I mean, have a way of brushing their hair forward whon they get bald, which I am going to adopt. They part the hair in the neighborhood of tho shoulder blades and work it all forward. It looks real cuto. I dined in the tall tower tho other day, nnd, while the green grass lay fur below in little squares and tho plan of Paris NYE SURVEY IN O RFID'S BALDNESS. was laid out beneath my eye, I ato tho loftiest dinner I have ever become the nirietor ol\ I would not Ive always had to board in the Eiffel Tower. You see the restaurants have to pa 25 per 1 cent of their receipts for tho privilege of being there, and thou tbey have to haul the provender up so far and there is no competition, that altogether I am glad I do not have to take my meals there. But tho sight as one sits at tho table, peering down ovor tho parapet or up toward tho top of the hill, and eats his choice juioy garcou or tells the pecon to I>Jiug in an- ' other pickled bote noire is one never to le forgotten. Below you the Seine winds ; itself in and out among little faims and rich vineyards, and far away you see tho oceau. You know the mighty hippodrome looks like a pigs in clover. Think of get ting up over a show 1,000 feet and thus saving your admission fee. Already tho tower is one big autograph album. If you want ac' auoo to write your name on tho tower, you will huvo to be here inside of two weeks. There will be no room af ter that, unless you telogiaph. Such groat names as those of Peleg Hitchcock of Lower Sandusky, and Lulu Merkius of Dead Horse, are lure, also Miss Vivian Bull of Shake Bag, 111. Christine Nilsson, the sweet singer, uow the Countosa Meranda, lives at our house. She has just purchased a small homo 011 the Champs Ely sees for •100,0(10 francs, or say SBO,OOO. She is haughty and weighs about 240 pounds. In the language of an eminent journalist, sho is a good woman weighing 240 pounds. I hear her warble once in a while as I wake in the morning, but I do not have to pay $2 per orchestra chair. She sings quite well. With proper cultivation her voico has a future for it, I think, liy the way, there is another Christine Kilssou who sings like a lark and is pretty be sides. {She is from America, aud is now in Europe to improve her voice. She is very liable to bo extensively heard from. She came across on the same steamer that 1 nartialiv ocouoUitL and om whioh I did some literary work in the way ot con tributions to tho Atlantic, as Dr. Holmes has so delicately put it. One reason I did not speak of the United States exhibit before was that 1 'kwN 1 1 I/ ) A | 1 ® I ■' i CIWjW J J ( J HE DINES IN THE EIFFEL TOWER. did not tind it until to-day. I happened to see it to-day because it was a very clear day, and I had a powerful glass with me. Tho truth is sometimes disa greeable), but what I like about it is that when mashed to earth it will invariably rear up again upon its hind feet and as sert itself. The United States are poorly, cheaply, meanly, and meagerly repre sented, with a few exceptions. AMERICAN PORTER. -Ma M s/M i V' W *T o v/y