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<jn¥/i 4#
kwfp
' WW
BUMMER URINES,
f'%
frer
. A
PI (E).
—Chicago Ledger.
Dying Saylnjrs of Notalilo People.
Addison—See liow a Christian can
die.
Arria—My Pectus, it is not painful,
Louis XIV. — Why weop yo V Did
you think I should live forever? (Then
after a pause): I thought dying had
boon harder.
Byron—l must sloop now,
Charles 11, (of England)— Don't let
poor Nellie starve. (Nell (iWynne.)
Charles IX of France—Nurse, nurse,
what murder, what blood 1 Oh I I have
done wrong. Clod pardon me.
Chesterfield Give Dayrolles a
chair.
Columbus —Lord, into Thy hands I
commend my spirit.
Lady Jane Gray and Tasso also used
the same words,
Cromwell —My desire is to make
what haste I may to be gone.
Demouax (philosopher)—-You may go
home, the show is over.
Lord Elden—lt matters not where I
am going, whether the weather be oold
or hot.
Foutanelle—l suffer nothing, but
feel a sort of dilfieultv in living longer.
PROFESSIONAL AMENITIES.
Brown—Why, is Dr. Squills dead?
Dr. 3mitli (of different school from
Squills)— Yes.
Brown—What was his ailment?
Smith —Committed suicide.
Brown—Why, how?
Smith—Prescribed for himself.
THE engraving on a ten-dollar bill is
X cellcnt.
Fierce and Fickle.
Whon John Snowden was a boy he
always had a hobby. One winter it
was coins, and he daily tormented
every shopkeeper in the village for odd
specimens; in the spring it was pigeons;
he sold all his coins, begged and bor
rowed money from all of the family to
buy fan-tails and rare breeds for his
dove-cotes.
Then he suddenly took a fancy to col
lect autographs. The pigeons were
neglected, and either died or were
stolen. John was busy in mailing
piteous appeals to every" man or worn
an of distinction in Europe or America
to write their names on blank cards foi
him.
He was succeeding very well when
the pursuit lost all interest for him.
He bought a printing-press. Now lie
besieged all his friends for orders—
"Hill-heads, labels and cards, executed
with neatness and dispatch." Before he
had executed the orders, however, the
delight of type-setting palled upon
him, and he gave it up.
When John grew to be a man he was a
violent. Almlitionist. for a few vears.
Then ho lost all interest in the slaves
and became an ardent vegeterian, who
tormented all his friends and acquaint
ances by appealing to them to givo up
meat and live with liim on fruits and
vegetables. This hobby lasted but a
jyear, when he took up the cause of
woman suffrage, and quarrelled with
every one who did not agree with him.
Since that he has been, by turns, a
leader among the Spiritualists and the
TTheosopliists, and is now—for the mo
ment—a vehement Ritualist.
He is a good, sincere, well meaning
man, anxious to find the truth and to
draw all men with him to tind it.
But he draws tliem w ill) such vehem
ence that his fiiends avoid him in
terror.
A rational man does not object to be
pulled by a steam-engine, provided ho
is pulled in one direction and that the
right one. But he will not consent to bo
jerked hither and thither as by the
vagaries of a restless wind.
, .John Snow don's temperament and
habit of thought are very common in
the world. The life and usefulness of
many a strong, conscientious man have
been paralyzed by them.
If any of our boy-readers find that
they are already inclined to mount a
liobbv and ride it lough shod over
other people, let them take warning. It
will not be possible, perhaps, for them
to curb or cool their zeal. Let them
indulge it, remembering, however, that
their brothers and classmates have a
right to hobbies of their own, and
should not be forced to mount behind
theirs.
When their zeal begins to flag, 100.
let them spur it and force it to continue
in the same path. The man who is ar
dent in the pursuit of one object is suc
cessful. The man who is zenlous in the
pursuit of a dozen soon ranks as a
feather-headed fool among other men.
—Youth'* Companion.
Didn't Work That Way.
"Most gamblers have their supersti
tions, and 1 used to liavo mine," re
marked an old sporting man to the re
porter. "But I was once cured. It
happened this way. You know it is
supposed to bring a man luck if ho
ffives anything to a beggar. About
five years ago I was ploying in about
the hardest luck a man ever had. I
had the clothes on my back—a new
suit, fortunately—and a new hat. That
was about all. The day before I had
my last bill broken auu was living on
the louse ohange.
"1 was walking down 4th nve. from
2!ld street in the evening with my
hands in my pockets and a large round
vacancy in my stomach, where my
dinner ought to liavo been, when I saw
a woman leaning against the railing of
a church, It was nearly !) o'clock aud
she was alone. She was well dressed,
and looked like a working-woman. I
made up my mind in less than a second
that she was in distress, and the idea
ooourred to me that if I gave her some
money it might change my luck. So I
walked up to her and said politely:
" 'ls there anything 1 ean do for you.
my good woman ?'
"She started as if she didn't under
stand me, and I continued kindly:
" 'fan I be of any use to you, Do
you want any money ?'
"She slowly camo out from the
shadow and stood under the gaslight,
film was as tall as I am and looked
twioo as strong.
" 'D'ye intend to insult mo ?' she be
gan, growing louder and inoro excited
at every word, 'What d'ye take me
for? If ye apeak another word to mo
I'll call my husband what works in the
church, and he'll kick a lung out of ye.
Go on and let respectable women alone,
ye villain!'
"J was on Union square in less than
four minutes. I went and played faro
bank for about fifteen minutes later on
in the night, and borrowed money to
get out of town oil. That oured me."
Chicago's Millionaire.
The man who told me this story had
something to say about "Old Hutch,"
of course. I never talked to a Board
of Trade man ten minutes without
hearing something about tho remarka
ble old man. Ho seems to be as per
sistent in getting into men's minds
and on their tongues as was Charles
I. in Mr, Dick's Memoirs. This man
said:
"You can find 'Old Hutch' on one of
the stools at a cheap lunch-counter
down near the Board every morning of
the week. Goes in there regularly and
orders two soft-boiled eggs and rolls,
and he looks at the check as closely as
any poor clerk in town. How's that
for a man with his money? Millions
and millions of wealth, anil eating a 15
or 20 cent breakfast. But that's his
stylo. He surprised mo the other day.
As long as I've been arouud the Board,
I never saw 'Old Hutch' wear any
thing but a black slouch hat; but tho
other day lie appeared with one of the
new-stylo straws with straight, stiff
brim. Nobody could look at him with
out smiling, and the old man 'tumbled'
and only wore it ono day. He doesn't
care for dress, or comfort, or good liv
ing, anyw ay. He has hist one passion
in life, aud that's gambling. He is the
first man on the lloor of the Board
always, and the last one to leave it.
Imagine, if you can, the supreme de
light to such a man of running a cor
ner such as lie manipulated last De
cember. But he's almost parsimonious
in his daily life. I saw him at
the theater one time alono, sitting
in r„ parquet seat without a soul to talk
to. He's a oner; that's what he is."—
THERE is something nice about bal
ance of trade. For instance, a farmer
comes to the city loaded with hay and
returns home loaded with rye.
KNOWLEDGE, like religion, must be
uperienced in order to be truly known.
A POSTOFFICE BOSS.
I y~HE follow
\ I f ' " g Sketch
- l" 'i VI V/is from the
I P' vi. I pen of Opie
D Pope Read,
liu KjjtMMpY the inimit-
I' able liumor
rwijt. ist of the
ir3Pi ■RPkt-.Jly Ar ka n saw
.1 ih The Post-
U 't '§• master at
1 Vs HTf.afjj) was sitting
1 H \\ IL V 1 In front of
lVi iin ~is ,io ° r
I I 'J i w hen a well-
THI-- I I )c-.< dressed
-.'"A:;
asked if that
/ / 1 Avere the
postoffice.
"Yep," the Postmaster answered,
placing his chin on his hand and squirt
iug a yellow stream at a lizard.
"I am expecting a letter and "
"Wliut's yo'name?"
"James Hen wood."
"Any kin to old Zeb Hen wood that
lives down beyant the forks?"
"No."
"Same name."
"Yes, but that makes no difference."
"It mout not to you, but it does to
me."
"How so?"
"Wal, ef you air any kin to old
Zeb you kain't git no letters outen this
office."
"I tell you that I am no kin to him,
but even if I were, that should make
no difference."
"But it do all the same. He pizened
my pup last fall, an' that settles it with
him."
"I don't care anything about that. I
want to know if there's a letter here
for me ?"
"Yas, tliar is one; come dav befo*
yistidy."
"Let me have it, please."
"Not till you prove that you ain't no
kin to old Zeb."
"I tell you that I am no kin to him,
and I also tell you that it makes no
difference whether I am or not."
"I know what you tell me—know
that as well as you do; but you ain't
proved notliin' yit."
"I don't have to prove anything. You
don't know who I am."
"And I don't keer, nuther."
"I am a United States Postoffice In
spector."
"That's all right."
"I know it is. Give me that letter."
"Not till you prove what I want you
to prove."
"If you don't give me that letter at
once I'll have you removed."
"What from?"
"From this postoffice."
"Who'll remove me?"
"The Government."
"Wall, now, leuime tell you: This is
my postoffice. I built this house niy
se'f."
"But as Postmaster you are under
the Government."
"No, I ain't. I ain't under nuttin'."
"Are you going to givo that letter?"
"Not till you prove."
"What is your name?" the Inspector
asked, taking out a note-book.
"Bo.se Hicks."
"Well, Mr. Hicks, I'll see tliat you
are removed."
"All right."
. "And more than that I'll have you
arrested."
"All right."
"I'll teach you what it is to keep
back a letter."
"All right."
"I'll give you one more chance."
"Bettor gemme two."
"No, I won't give you but one."
"Well, I'll shako you the dice for the
other one."
"You are a fool."
"All right."
"You havon't got the sense of a mon
key."
J Ain't compar'd myse'f with you yit."
"If you were to start out to IOOK for
a river you couldn't find a spring
branch."
"All right."
"You give me that letter now, or
you'll have trouble."
"That's me."
t "Give me that letter or I'll whale you
right here."
"I'm yo' man."
"Do you mean that you'll give me the
letter or fight?"
"Hafter fight, I reckon, under the
sarcumstances."
Just about that time the Inspector
knocked the old fellow off the stump.
He got iiji, nibbed himself, and said:
"You air a putty quick pusson. Ef
that's u thing I like it's a man that ain't
lazy."
Ho went into the house and brought
out the letter. Just us the Inspector
was turning away the old fellow said:
"Thar's another letter here for you."
"Give it to me."
"No, not till you hit me ag'yi."
The Inspector hit him again and h
brought tho other letter.
The King's Little Joke.
A Swedish statesman recently in
veighed most eloquently in Parliament
against oleomargarine. Next evening
he was invited to dine with the King,
who loves a joko. There was only
oleomargarine on the royal table, anil
the statesman liberally partook there
of. At tho close of the meal the King
asked him: "Well, sir, liow do you
like our butter?" "It is excellent,"
replied the statesman; "the contrast
between it and artificial butter is very
marked." "But," said the King, "that
is artificial butter!" The other guests
roared with laughter, but the "old par
liamentary hand'' returned quick as a
flash: "Your Majesty, if one can be
deceived so oasily, there is all thai
more need of strict laws against bogus
goods."
MR. FREDERICK W. WEATHERLY says
that he has written something between
five hundred and 0110 thousand songs*
of which "Nancy Lee" and "The Three
Old Maids of Leo' are the most pop-i
ular. He wrote "Nancy Lee" at Ox*
ford, within an hour, while waiting for
an unpunctunl pupil.
EMPEROR WILLIAM, of Germany, is
ft Very hearty eater and drinker. Ho
consumes an enormous amount of meat*
beer, andavine every day, and is never,
troubled with indigestion. He prefors
a pipe to a cigar, and shows an ele-|
ment of greatness by detesting cigar
ettes.
THE French have a custom of visits
ing the graveyards wherein their rela
tives are buried on the Ist of Novem-j
ber.
SONG of the dry-goods clerk—Swings
ing in delaine.
Germauy'a army last year cost $121,-
i 061.000.