THE BOOKKEEPER S LAMENT. BY ARTIM'H J. LAMB. With fin corn winy atid worn. With flKHvc. II'■■"1111! his inind, A iKHikkci iic i mh "" 11 rickety stool Trying his Ualuuee to find. Till figure* sHom like words, Ami word* like figures seem, Till • v r the figures be fulls asleep, Ami adds thorn up in u dream. "i'is Ol for the heathen Chinee I And OI for the ignorant Turk I A bookkeeper ne'er lias a soul to save, For on Huiuluy he must work. Work! work ! work 1 Till the night is lost in morn I Till worn ami tired the bookkeeper creeps Beneath the desk where he always sleeps, And *1 it urns of a balance unborn. —Chicago Liar. A SAL) DISAPPOINTMENT BY I)WIGHT BALDWIN, } i, A! Pa!" \ SjgysflMßfrv H°l Miller, n bright, \ boy of thir ty KE3J teon - excitedly /Clh^ ( ' OS ' V little room x his father was / Hr \> $ 1 lob ?" asked tlie genfcle looking xij). "You know where the r i V er is?" "Of course." "Well, down where the mill-dam used to be- don't yon know ?" "Yes, yes." "There's a man there." "Well?" "An awful big man." "What of itV" "Well, he took away my six fishes, so he did." "What for?" " 'Cause he's mean. He said ho was a stftrvin', bat ho ain't, 'cause he's real fat. He's a cookin' 'em there, now." "What did you say?" "What did I say ? I told him that maybe he didn't know who my father was. He allowed that he didn't, and says I, 4 My father's George Miller, an' he's a theatrical agent as makes dates an' papers houses, an' lie'll just exactly amble down here an' paste you, if yer don't give me my fish, so he will!'" " What did he say to that ?" "He said he did, pa, I'll cross my heart on it—he said that ho wanted you to come, an' that he'd make you dizzier'n your old show. Hurry, pa, or he'll be gone. He's got a bile on tlio back of his neck. A lick there'll count double." "Go and lick him yourself, Hob. I can't " "You don't mean that you ain't goin' V" "Certainly I mean it. Do you take me for a prize tighter?" "Hut, pa, I told the man you was a com in'." "Well?" "An' if you don't go, he'll be awfully disappointed!" Despite the vexation that tlio inter ruption had caused him, the father laughed heartily. "I'm sorry to disappoint the gentle man, Hob," said he, "imt I can't go to day." "Then I'll got even with him my self." "All right." "I'll need a quarter, though, pa." "Well, take it, and bo off." "An' an order for tlio worth of it in the cheapest whisky the old man Hear'a got?" "What?" "I ain't goin' to drink it. pa. It's part of my scheme. It's a dandy, pa, nil' it'll be pretty odd if I don't get even with his jaw-bones!" With a great show of reluctance, but secretly pleased at the pluck and mysterious scheming of his son, whom he had not seen for three months until the preceding day, the theatrical agont complied, and from the windows watched the irrepressible Hob as lie dashed away towards the principal street of the village. Iho boy lost no time in securing o pint of the vilest whisky imaginable. Then he hurried off towards tli( river. lie had not proceeded far when lit heard a most piteous wailing, and s A ' ' \ J "BROILING FI.SII OVER A SMALL FIRE." moment later a boy of about his own size ran into the street. "What's the matter, Dick B lye?" he asked. "Matter! Ma's got ono of thorn pat ent cat-o'-nine tails, and it stings aw ful. you just bet it does." "Sphere did she get it?" "Bought it on the way from Laporte this roornin' off an' old tramp of u fel ler what's goin' to make this town. Your mother'll take two, I know she will." "No, she won't." "You feel pretty big 'cause your I father's hero." "No, I don't. I know this feller. He's down by tlio river now a eatin' my fish. He's got a whole bundle of 'em. I saw the ends, but didn't catch onio what they were. Bally the gang, Dick, an' he'll peddle his whips some'rs else." Dick Hive uttered a creditable imi tation of the war-whoop of a dime-novel: Indian, and bolted away. At the vergo of the town Hob sat down to await the assembling of liis clan. In ten minutes as many boys, soino of tliern ragged, some barefooted, but nil bubbling over with enthusiasm,had joined their acknowledged leader. When freckled Clem Warren, the last one expected, had arrived, Hob arose and thus addressed his band: "A miserable wretch, mean enough to chase a boy opt of an orchard, took six I>,ll away from me a spell ago down by the dam." "No?" came in an incredulous cho rus from the band. "They were small, and inclined to be wormy in the shoulders." "That's no difference," broke in i Clem Warrem. "Fish is fish 1" I "This red-tiiiniied anarchist is bring ing into town a whole passel of whips, regular cat-o'-nine-tails, such as we reads about in the lialf-dimes, which he's goin' to sell for a quarter apiece, to be used on boys. Dick Wye's mother bought one this morning. 801 l up yer breeches, Dick." A murmur of sympathy swept the throng as the lad complied with the order and showed a number of red welts around his fat legs. "A fellow-feeling makes us wond rous kind," and not one of tlio specta tors but knew that a like fate menaced him unless the whip-peddler could be prevented from making a canvass of the town. " We'll make him come off the perch," cried one of them. "An' off the sun-fish, to," Bailed Bob, "if he hasn't eat 'em all." A few minutes later l'ob halted some fifty yards away from the spot where a bearded man of immense stature was broiling fish over a small tire. To all appearances the boy was alone, but his tried and trusty follow ers were ensconced behind some low bushes near by. In their eagerness to see the monster who dealt in instru ments of torture, they were thrusting up their heads at the imminent risk of being observed by the enemy. "Hello!" shouted Bob. The man started, and dropped the fish he was cooking into the fire. "Where's your father?" he sneered, j after satisfying himself that Bob was unaccompanied. "He said I had no 'tliority to make a date for him." "Ho! ho!" laughed the man, "why not V" "I told him what you looked like, an' he allowed you was an old friend of his as he couldn't fight." "What are you givin' me?" "Ho said you once did him a great favor down in Pittsburg." "Maybe; I'm a liberal man." "Is your name Bacine Philander Racine ?" "The same." "Then here's a lxottle of Blue Grass whisky that pa sent you. with an invi tation to come to dinner. Anybody i k 4wvp r4~vA xmmfri I ]ffi°T%S&' I'M ixb "SEVERB IP NOT POETIC JUSTICE." can tell you where pa lives—best ant greatest man in town." "Bring it on." "Not until the neutrality is tlis armed. I'm afraid you'll larrup mc afore you taste the stuff." Bob now took an apple from his pocket, which he punctured several times with a nail. Then he poured over it a little of the contonts of the bottle and tossed it toward the whip merchant. The man began by smelling the fruit, and ended in devouring it eagerly. Five minutes later Bob had joined his band, and all were watching the Jtrampish individual, as with every out ward manifestation of pleasure he feat sipping the contents of the bottle. After it was finished he rolled ovei laud fell asleep. \ "Forward 1" whispered Bob, and the forms of the avengers were creeping stealthily along. The bundle of whips was secured and distributed, the supply in excess f>f the demand being thrown into the •iver. "Bemcmbor the Boston harbor tea story in the Reader," cried Bob. "At him, boys!" The order was obeyed with alacrity. Rudely awakened from his drunken j sleep the man, howling with pain, I struggled to his feet and attempted to j seize the pigmies, who had turned j against the giant—whom strong drink had chained—the weapons which he had brought into their country. The boys readily eluded his grasp and continued to administer severe if not poetic justice, until they wearied of the port. "Now, be off 1" ordered Bob. With a black and scowling face the man complied, and staggered and j limped down to the river. "An* don't come here again sellin' j whips to cut up the legs of honest ! boys," shouted Dick. "An' don't go blowin' around that I I disappointed you," added Bob. "Be i sure and come around to dinner. We : cat at one sharp, but yon needn't show up till a quarter past, bein' as you're in the soil]) now, and have had fish, uud won't relish the two first courses." AMERICAN FABLES. THE CAGED RABBIT. RABBIT was) 1 one day strolling' || tli rough an apple |1 ' orchard when hej Iff found a nice-; looking box that JUI r i ( | seemed to be h about his sizej I crawled into | box, when a' suddenly dropped and he was trapped. Before he had discovered that fact a farmer! happened along, and the rabbit said: "1 am greatly obliged to you for fixing things up for me. I can' get in here,' jand the dogs and foxes cannot pester, me. But you should have given me the combination so that I could get out when I wished." "Don't mention it," said the farmer. "I did not erect that box for your pro-' teetion, but for your destruction," and; jhe cracked the rabbit's head and took him home for dinner. MORAL. There are lots of farmers in this' world. 'JIIE TWO FIGHTING COCKS. Two cocks in a farm-yard were al ! ways ljoasting of their strength, and at last they arranged a slugging match. •fust as the fight was finished the farmer appearod and said : "You two are a disgrace to the whole farm. I .proposo to inoculate you into a pot, pie." "But," said the one that had been worsted, "I have already been whipped.; CATTLE HERONS, uicier crying 10 nun 1110 passage oui is impaled 011 tho cactus thorns. The final result is death. The chauna fChauna chavaria) of South and Central America is a benefactor to the human race. It is about the size of a common goose, with long legs. Tho color is brown and gray. Easily domes tic atod, it enjoys the company of poultry, and is their champion against tho winged robbers so plenty in the country it in habits. It is active and very courageous, and carries its weapons of defense in (he shane of sours 011 its wings. AN HISTORIC FAMILY. UOMETHING CONCERNING THE ORIG INAL FAMILY OF WASHINGTON. ILinltilHccncet of Its Early History ly tlio First President's Holutivo—Was the Atnoricuii Flag Modeled Aftor Wash ington's Coat of Arum? \ A foresting to lota voice i it huff /{Who hoard from this y Yhi.jlql mflHfsidO of tho Atlantic r iTt' ny 0110 who bears the / ' name of Georgo ft Washington, and bo- Ww) * if!®F Haves himself to bo wj gt y\>lftho eldest reproson viHfrel 1 VAst>A tatlvo or tho Wu.mli -11 ii' lngton fanilty in En gland, writes the Rev. George Washington from l'aria to tho Chi cago Inter Ocean. There is a very curious fact with regard to the name and family of Washington in England, viz., that in the last generation it had dwindled down to throo maios. Tho family—dating back to a certain Bar dulf, mentioned In the Doomsday Book, whoso groat-gramlson was Lord of Wash ington—spread out within six or seven gen orations into vaiioua branches. They all bore tho name of Washington. Thus there wero Washingtons of Durham. Westmore land, Lancashire. Northamptonshire, and York. This last was tho lirst cradlo of tho family. At one time tho name must have been counted by hundreds. Now that which these gentlemen of tho Herald's ofilce cannot do is to give us any reason why so numerous and healthy a stock should have become reduced to three persons, who could perpetuate tho name. John, tho s<>n of Laurence, had left us sev eral generations back to go to America and begin tho making of tho name glorious there. 11c was of tho Northampton race, and seems to have taken the luck of tho fam ily away with him. Sufficient has boon said and writton ol tho great General's pedigree. But this if what wo know about ourselves: Wo believe that wo branched off from tho original line forming the Durham contingent, about sixteen gonorations ago. So that taking generation for generation it may bo con sidered that, working buck sixteen genera tions to the junction and down from thai to General Washington, wo are removed from him some 10x18 family layers. Tho curious thing is that with but one 01 two exceptions none of the numo of out family aro to be found in England. These dxcoptfons aro from very collateral crunches. Here, then, wore live distinct linos ro iuced from a powerful outspread and ft ft MMIiUIH | I I i IBBBBM IP "UH.ll Dl Hi PRESIDENT WASHINGTON'S SEAL. dwindled down to three brothers, of the Gateshead Durham family, loft to perpetu ate tho race in the year, say 1880. One ol those, Henry, died unmarried. The rsetovof Rriuaton in New Narfcbaiun ton. traces tne innmy irorn 'us nortn this fashion: The Washlnitons. he says, were a Northern family, who lived for some time in Durham and Lancashire. From Lancashire they came to Northampton. The unole of the first Laurence Washington was Sir Thomas Kitson. one of the groat, merchants, who in tlie time of Henrys VII. and VIII. developed the wool trade in tho country. That wool trade depended mainly on the growth of wool and the creation of sheep farms in the midland counties. There is no doubt, therefore, that tho reason why Laurence Washington settled in Northamp tonshire. leaving his own profession, which was that of a barrister, was that he might superintend his uncle's transactions with the sheep proprietors of that county. Laurence Washington soon became Mayor or Northampton, and. at the time of tho dissolution of the monasteries, became identified with the cause of civil and relig ious liberty, and gained a grant of monastic lands. Butgravo or Botgravo was given to him. For three generations they remained at Butgravo, taking rank amongst the no bility and gentry of tho country. At the end of throe generations their fortunes failed. They were obliged to sell Butgravo. and retired to Brington. From this de pression tho Washingtons recovered by a singular marriage. Tho oldest son of the family had married the half-sister of George Villiors, Duke of Buckingham. They rose again into groat prosperity. About the emigrant who was the great grandfather of Goorge Washington it is not easy to discover much, except that he was knighted by James I. in 1623. and thai there is in the county not only the tomb ol the fathor but that of the wire of the youth who lies buried at Islip-on-the-Nen. He emigrated to the United Btatos in 1657. Thoro is a further matter of sympathy between ourselvos. as a family, and the THE AUTHOR'S SEAL. Americans, which needs some comment in u letter touching on Washington. 1. e., our quarterlngs and crest. Those are nearly identical with those of the President, and a o the same us those borne Ly tho Dur ham and Northamptonshire families. And wiiat have tlioy done, these quarter lngs V No moro nor loss than this—supplied America with her flag. It was a natural process. How should a young state, spring ing into almost sudden existence, be rep resented to tho winds and all nations of tho world? Where choose a fashion how how to display herself? To one man all America felt horsolf boliovon. To one man alio bolioved that alio owed tho greatest part of her success in the struggle for lib erty. What more natural, then, than to take tho quarterlngs and seal of that man to whom so much was owed and transform tliem into a llag? And its device—stars and stripes—was an effective emblem. On some such consultation as this wo may bo liove those quarterlngs wore taken. The throe stars blossomed out in Washington's time to live, and in thoso later days it in creased to thirteen. Wo. as a family, it Is no untruth to say, have given tho llag to America—we. Wash ingtons. Whyssiu.gtons, (Juasslngtons ol England, or whatever you may like to call us. Tho arms are: Two bars of gulos: in chief threo inullots of tho second. Crest, a raven with wings eudossed proper, issuing from a ducal coronet. Tho crest, a bird issuant. may have had as well something to say in American em blems. That bird issuant shall spread its wings. And why not bocomo an oagle with wings quite outstretchod? As the stars have multiplied from throe to thirteen, tho bird may become ennobled. Indicating tho spreading fortunes and > astness of a now continent, tho humbler raven may have grown into a grander bird, and bocomo tho spr ad-oaglo of America, her sign and ora biem—no unlltting Dendant to the star spangled banner. And now some one wilt say. Vory well of the oust, but what of the nresentv What are tno.se wasningtous doing in rmgianu r Is there life in tho old stock yet? Have thoy achieved aught? Lot us hope they aro not quite useless in their generation. Five out of tho seven male cousins—children of John and Adam Washington of the lost, generation—aro in holy orders in tho Church of England. Four are beneficed in England. One—tho writer of thoso lines, tho eldest son of tho elder brother—is chaplain to one of the Anglican churches in Paris, with many American friends and sympathizers among his flock. Another brother is Commander in H. B. M. service. A third is Major in the Corps of Boyal Engineers. Admiral Washington, fathor of the writer, and Adam Washington, respectively fathers of tho living cousins, wore, the former in the Royal Navy, the luttor a barrister ut law. Such is u brief review of the family his tory. past and present, of tho English Washingtons. A| I tost on Man Makes Some Interesting Discoveries.) Mr. HonryF. Waters, whoso discoveries relative to tho unci store of John Harvard, tho founder of Harvard College, attracted so much attention a fow years ago. has now dono an equally important work for tho Washington family, says a recent Bos ton dispatch to the Chicago Tribune. Goorgo Washington's English ancostry has long been a disputed point witli historians. Tim Amoricun line of Washington's an costry has been easily traced back to John Washington,who with ids brothor Lawronce came to Virginia from England about 1657, but there tho course became un certain. Mr. Waters has now cleared this by his discoveries. Lawronce Washington, son of Lawrence Washington of Butgravo. ho llnds, was a follow of Brasenoso College, Oxford, rector of Burleigh, in Essex, from 1633 to 1643, when lie was ojocted by order of Parliament as a malignant royalist. He removed to Tring, in the countv of Hert ford. whero ho died before 1655, leaving a widow. Amphillis, and children John, born about 1633; Lawrenoe. baptized at Tring. June 23. 1635; and William. Elizaboth, Margaret and Martha. It was his sons John and Lawrenoe who omigratod to Virginia about J657. On only two minor points can thoro bo any doubt as to these facts, ami on those it is probable that further investi gation will remove all doubt. Rest Neeilecu A tramp kuows what it ia to he leg weary, a farm laborer to he bodv weary, a literary man to be brain weary, and a sorrowing man to be soul-weary. The sick aro often weary, oven of life itself. Weariness is a physical or spiritual "ebb-tide" which time and patience will convert iuto a "flow." It is nover well to whip or spur a worn out borso, except in the direst straits. If bo mendH bis pace in obedience to the stimulus, every step is a spark subtracted from bis vital energy. Idleness is not one of the faults of the present age; weari ness is one of its commonest expe riences. The checks which many a man draws on bis physical resources are innumerable; and as these re sources are strictly limited, like any other ordinary bank account, it is very easy to bring about a balance on the wrong side. Adequate rest is one kind of repayment to the bank, sound sleep is another, regular eating and good digestion another.- New York Hihi.ess. THE California method: Mr< , Bleed,cr—Hero's an account of a man •who got shot "while assaulting a judgd out in California. Mrs. Bleeckor—• Bear me! What did they do then? Mr. Bieecker—They arrested the i judge. FOLLY AS IT FLIES. A WHISKY de'il—the imp of the bottle. BONO of the syndicates Gobble, gobble, gobble. A HOWLING swell—The boil on a small boy's neck. THE son who goes to work in a mill represents the flour of the family. THE man who is hard of hearing is apt to be troubled with "hey!" fever. LIKE many a young man, nature be gins her fall by painting things red. WINKS—I didn't see yon at camp meeting this year. Minks—No; I've reformed. A MAN discovers that gas isn't equal to coal when he tries it oil a coal dealer to secure credit. TEMPERANCE Orator—What is it., my hearers that drives men to drink? Voice from the back scat --Salt mack erel. A MAN who was compelled to sue an old comrade to recover what lie owed him, called him his pseudo friend. Sued?—sued—owe? ah, yes, we catch on. "Now I AM a highwayman," remarked the commercial traveller to the ferry man who was taking him over the river in a skiff. "Why?" "Because I am a rowed agent." MARIA— It's no use my trying to please you with my cooking; you aro never satisfied. John—You could suit me exactly if you'd only try. "How ?" "By hiring a cook I" "PA, what's tho difference 'tween a cutter and a fitter the signs tell about ?" "Same thing, my son. My barber's such a beastly cutter that lie's Utter to adorn a slaughter house." CHARLIE (who has been blowing the cornet for an hour): "Say, Ned, do you think there is any music iu me?" Ned: "I don't know. There ought to bo; I didn't hear any come out." SHE What a beautiful world it would be if it were summer and day light all the time! He—Daylight all the time! H'm! When would lovers have a chance to do their courting ? TOMPKINS— Heard you left the board ing house, Jack. Jock—Yes; the land lady was far too modest for mo. Tomp kins—Modest—how's that? .Tack—O, she insisted that we oat dressed beef at every meal. MR. GooDCATCn (calling on the oldest sister)— Why, Johnny, how you are growing! You'll be a man before your sister if you keep on. Johnny—You bet I will. Sistor'll never be a man if she keeps on being 20 like she has for the last five years. Two IRISH servant-girls wero quar reling tho other day. "Shure," Haid the 0110, "an' didn't Oi hear yer mash tlior comin' in afther lialf-pasht 1 av thonoight!" "An' sure," retorted tho other, "an' didn't Oi hear yer mash tlier not comin home at all laaht noight?" FITZBOODLE— Now that you consent to be mine, darling, let us be married soon. Belinda—Oh, no, dear, let us wait two years at least. Fitzboodle— Two years! Oh, you don't mean it 1 Belinda—Yes, indeed, I do. Please— please, let me thiuk you perfect as long as possible. BINOLEY: "Have you heard that Pushley is giving away a box of cigars with every suit of clothes ? I bought a suit yesterday. Try a cigar?" Travel's (lighting up): "Thanks. 1 should think (puff), Bingley, that you would be glad (puff) that you only (puff) buy two suits a year." VISITOR — The boys do bo telliu' me that Dinnis is sick abed. Is he any better, Iduuuo? Lady of house—l can't say just yit. Yez see he thried to freighten mo by hidin' under my bed protendin' to bo a burglar, an' lie's lyin* up stairs wid a broken leg an' two doc tors atryin' to take four bullets out o' his body. But how was Ito know him sn the dark? THE OLD MAN'S OUTING. Bobby—Ma, did pa spend a good Seal of time at the dentist's when ho was in Chicago ? Mother—l didn't know that he was it the dentist's at all, Bobby. Why? "I heard liim tell Mr. Smith that it cost him over a hundred dollars to get his eye-teeth cut."— Texan Siflinys. Milan Aliens Moral bo urn go. During the Devolution, tho pride and the hero of tho Oreen Mountains was I'',than Allen, and probably there was no man living then that had moro if the elements of the popular hero than he. With all his rough ways and fits of anger, Allen was a remarkably honest man. It is related of him that "he owed a person in Boston £OO, for which he gave his note. When due it was sent to Vermont for collection. Allen could not pay at tho time, and he employed a lawyer to secure a postponement of payment until he could rni o tho money. The lawyer rose in court and denied Allen's signature to the note, as this would oblige tho other party to send to Boston for a witness, and give Allen all the time he wanted. When tho lawyer made his plea, Allen, who hap pened to bo in I lie back part of the court-room, strode forward, and in a voice of thunder addressed the lawyer: "Mr. Jones, I did not. hire you to '.unit l here to lie! This is a true note; I signed it, ami I'll pay it! I want no shuttling; I want time. What I em ployed you for was to get this matter put over to the next court; not to come here and lie and juggle about it." The lawyer shrank from his blazing, eye, and the case was put over as lie wished. —Philadelphia Preen. Meant, the Same Thing. I'oet (invading the sanctum)— Your compositor made an awful mistake in my poem. Instead of "I kissed her under the rose," he set it up "under the nose." Editor- -I don't see the mistake. Poet —You don't ? Editor —No; you kissed her under tho nose when you kissed her under the rose, didn't you ? Think it over, my friend. -Ne W l'ork HUH.