TB.E BEAUTY OF THE SEASON. BT !'• B- W. To be the first at ball or hop, To have boiiquetß by aosena; To wake the boyish love of male, And hate of female, cousins ; To say and do just what you please, Ajul without "rhyme or reason," And yet be pleased—this is to be The "Beauty of the Season." You're witching; thero's 110 doubt of that, Your very smile 1b winning; One glanco from those bewildering eyes Sets uearts aud heads a-sninniug. But when a Buitor comes for life, You flirt beyond all reason ; And so you'll die an old maid yet, My "Beauty of the Season." SPECTER OF THE CLIFFS An Adventure In the Far West. BY AD H. GIBSON. *\ HE bold, far-sweeping j liockies were veiled in tlie I purple shadows that suc -4 reed early nightfall. Earnest Tune was be i lated. He had been in VjSSj>p ur sn i t of mountain isV'CT l grouso up n wild, inter minable canyon, and he (Sr. was now returning to camp over a rough, rocky way, leading y through lonely gorges, such as one sees nowhere as in the picturesque State of Colorado. His pony had that day lost a shoe. Hence, it was not possible to urge the animal rapidly over the uneven road, or Tune, much as he wished to get back to his comrade at the camp, disliked to bo inhuman enough to do so. Occasionally, his path would be sur rounded by high, dark, frowning ridges of rock, whispering pine trees clung lonesomely, and seemed to awe into murmurloss subjection the dwarf cedars below them. Then, again, down into picturesque gullies, with limpid mountain streams urging their torturous courses among tlio eternally silent bowlders that jutted ever and anon across the canyons and gulches through which he guided his pony. At one of these beautiful streams Earnest Tune reined in and permitted the thirsty animal to drink. One by one the stars had crept out in the violet vault above, so far, far above, from horse aud rider in the gorge. Dense shadows lurked about aud refused to yield space to the dainty starlight that dared invade those dark, gloom enshrouded recesses. The young man looked about him. The night was calm. The scene was sublime. Here the din and tinsel display of boasted civiliza tion were unknown. To a young fellow used all his life to a homo in a gay Eastern city, the gulch,with its gloomy mountains reaching away pliantasmal ly into the night, held something inex pressibly fascinating, almost divine. To his right, and overlooking the spot where he had paused, loomed bold, out standing cliffs, their rugged sides hero and there clothed in meager patches of spruce and pine, their summits gray, vague and barren, as if Ceres and Flora had united in afllicting them with an irremovable, blighting curse. As his eyes swept the shadowy cliffs he start ed and almost leaped from his saddle. Earnest Tuno was an educated man and not given to superstition and wild imaginings. He had always hooted the idea of supernatural visitations. But now! lle was confronted by an appa rition as beautiful as it was startling. Brave as he was, he felt his blood grow chilly, and he seemed deprived of the power to speak or stir. The spectacle that enchained liis gaze was a most lovely object, ghostly though it was. A beautiful girl, clad in a white, flowing dress, with wild masses of midnight tresses falling around a pnlo, delicate face, stood re vealed on the lone mountain side. She stood directly within tho halo of a strange, greenish light that glowed steadily, casting its deathly hues around the weird yet namelessly lovely figure of the cliffs. "Great heavons!" he managed at last to articulate, though his voice was hoarse and unnatural. "Am linn dream ? How awful, yet how beauti ful !" With one pale hand she motioned him away, away. But Earnest sat as if transfixed, and continued to gaze with terrified fascination upon tho spectral object of tho cliffs. What could she mean by waving him off ? Suddenly the animal censed drink ing, lifted its head, saw the specter in all its beauty and awfulness, uttered a snort of terror, and ere the spell-bound rider know it tho pony had cleared the rocky stream, leaped away through the dusk of the gorgo, and was rapidly bearing him from the ghostly vision on the mountain. Allien Earnest succeeded in quieting down his animal, they had got too fat to go back. Ho was venturesome enough to do 80, and resolved to in vestigate the mystery on the following night, alone, if he could not persuade his friend to accompany him. The pony trembled in overy limb and showed evidence of deep fright. Very soon horse and rider stopped before a tent in a charming green valley, not more than two miles from the haunted cliffs. Earnest dis mounted, put his horse away, and en tered the tent, where his comrade was waiting supper for him. Earnest Tunc and Willard Rollerton ■were young men from New York, out on a sporting expedition in the West. Bollerton, a good looking, well-made, dark-eyed fellow, was engaged to pretty Gertrude Tune, Earnest's only sister. The marriage was set for early winter, and tho young friends were en joying an outing in Colorado ere the wedding came off. As Earnest entered the tent, Willard greeted him: "Hello i you didn't find the grouso? Hut, I say, old paid, you are as pale as a spook." "Ami?" Earnest said, as indiffer ently as he could; and he removed his hat and approached his friend, saying: "Just have tho kindness to tell me if I have turned gray." Willard playfully ran his fingers through the luxuriant gold-brown curls of bis sweetheart's brother (so like the tresses beloved), aud an swered laughingly: "I H n ,i n o silver threads among the geld. But wlmt mystery have you to unfold? I know from your manner you have, met with some adventure. Come, let us eat, and as we do so, you can recount any thrilling TJte encounter or spectral vision that you may have been favored with." And Earnest obeyed. As they at p. their supper of delicious, fresh wild gamo, he told Willord all that wo In. ve told the reader with regard to the specter of the cliffs. Willurd listened with strange interest as his friend de scribed the lonely vision. What could it bo? He acrreed at once to assist Earnest In investigating the mystery. "How far are the cliffs from here?" "Not more than two miles," Earnest Time replied. "Then, as it is early, let us go this very night. Come, let ns load our guns and be equipped should any dan ger menace us," Willard said in a cautious way, as they finished a hasty meal. They were soon capped and equipped for their adventure. "Now lead the way, Earnest. I never saw a ghost in my life, and I am all impatient to see one." "Perhaps the visionary maiden will not appear again to-niglit. But I hope she may. Willard," suddenly chang ing his tone, "how does it happen that you never thought to doubt my strange story? Perhaps I imagined it all." "Your looks and manner convinced me at once that something unusual had happened to you. Ido not doubt that you saw what you have related. But Ito discover what it really is. is my mis sion. I never see anything mysterious but I try to ascertain its real nature. Now lead on." Earnest started to do so. But when he gained the door of the tent ho be came rooted to the spot. There, glid ing swiftly over the flower-gemmed valley, in the starlight, brighter here, and approaching the tent, was the lovely specter of the cliffs. She was clad in lier white robes, but the strango light that had surrounded her had van ished. The young men watched her approach with a strange, spell-bound wonder in their gaze. What could it meau? She seemed to float toward them instead of walk ing. The pleasant camp-fire threw out a crimson reflection across the lit tlo space before the tent and illumined the white lady as she came on. Breath lessly Earnest and Willard awaited her approach. She drew near and halted a few feet from them. Making a motion to secure their silence by placing the lily fingers of her shapely hand over lior lips, she spoke: "Not a word—not a question. If you would save your lives, follow me." Not like a ghost's sepulchral voice, but like the dulcet ripples of a gentle cascade among mountain fastnesses, came those words of peculiar import. "Follow me," repeated the voice. "You will soon bo in peril. I will lead you to a place of safety." Should they heed the voice? The strange vision, or whatever it was, started away across the valley, beck oning them to follow. It was too much for Earnest Tune and Willard Iloller ton, in the flush and wonder of their adventurous young manhood, to resist. They never paused to question the plausibility of the sudden warning. They shouldered their guns and set "A SOLITARY MAN BITTING ON A PLAT BTONK." forth at a rapid gait, following closely in the rear of the specter of the cliffs. Dimly through the gloom of the gorge they followed their odd guide. From what danger unseen was she con ducting them ? They never stopped to ask themselves, but kept on. She might be leading them into a trap. So intent were they on solving the mystery they never gave that fear a thought. On and 011 slio led them. Over hard, uneven, rocky paths, over dangerous chasms where a single misstep would have proved certain death, anil on into the dark mountains they went. At last the ghostly guide stopped under a large, shelving crag that jutted out over a considerable space of the ! gorge below. The pine trees of funereal darkness sighed anil moaned, like lost spirits, in the mountain wind. Wild, dreary and lonesome the spot was. Earnest and Willard came also to a halt. The sjurit maiden again spoke: "Hero vou are safe." Earnest, who could control his curi osity 110 longer, cried through the gloom that divided them from their guide: "Are you spirit or flesh? For God's sak, speak, I entreat you!" ! A low, silvery laugh answered him. ' A specter laugh! Oh, horrible! [ "Draw nearer, and I shall answer you," (he sweet voice said. The young men did as requested. They leaned ou their guns and awaited the informa tion almost breathlessly. "The superstitious Indians and min ors about this gulch call me the 'Specter Maiden of the Cliffs,' the spirit of an emigrant's daughter murdered here several years ago by a party of Mor mon Dauites disguised as Indians." 1 The young men felt a thrill of hor ror run through them. Bhe wont on: "Such a dark deed really did occur years ago in this very gorge. Taking advantage of that fact and the super stition of the natives, my captors have made me play specter on the cliffs around this crag. An exclamation of surprise burst from the listeners and Earnest asked: "Your captors? Who are they? Tell us and we will gladly rescue you. "Listen. My father and I were en camped near here nearly two years ago. One dark night a band of men dressed as Utes attacked us. They robbed us of everything, sparing our lives only on our promise to go quietly with them to their mountain fastnesses. Life was dearer than death, so we ac cepted the chief's terms. Our captors proved to be a band of robbers, white outlaws and lialf-breed fiends. Most of the men have Indian wives and live i |in the mountains near this gorge. I 'wftH treated kindly, after their rough 'fashion. My father has been confined a close prisoner in a cave. The chief bgrees to release him ouly on his word of honor to espouse outlawry and aid in their dark acts. Of course he re fuses. "The officers from one of the neigh boring towns, where a bank was robbed a year ago, have been searching for the i robbers' quarters. Their guides are Indians. Knowing their belief in ghosts and such like spectral phenomena, I made to dress in white to scare them away from this part. Strango lights were put at my feet, and I sup pose my appearance was truly friglil iul. Anyway, the uliost business acl- Ed like a charm in scaring away the poor red guides. Only this evening X was obliged to play my ghostly role, as the officers were supposed to be iu the gorge." "It was I," said Earnest, "and I as sure you I was considerably startled. But how did you happen to warn us ?" "The robbers discovered your little camp, and, learning you were tender feet on a hunting trip, they decided to attack you. I overheard their plans, and the time set for the attack. I had seen your camp from tho mountain. I determined to make great risks to save you. For the first time since our cap ture. every robber except my father's guard, left the quarters. Then was my time. Telling the chief's squaw that I had to go to the cliffs to plav specter, I easily got away." "Clod bless you, noble girl," said Willard, sincerely. "You have not told us your name." "My name is Olive Olissom," she said, simply. "Olive Glissom!" repeated Willard Holler ton, in an excited voice. "Are you the daughter of Abner Glissom, of 0., in Ohio T" "Abner Glissom is my father." "Abner Glissom is my mother's youngest brother, and you are my own cousin, Olive," cried the young fellow joyfully, pressing warmly the little hand she permitted him to take. "Cousin Willard, I am glad to know you; and how sorry lam that the fool ish coolness between our parents has prevented our ever meeting. How strange to meet you here." "It is, indeed. But how happened it that you and Uncle Abner came out to these wilds?" "Father was unfortunate in his busi ness in Oliio. So we started to the Colorado mines, only to fall into these robbers' hands." "My poor Olive!" said her newly found kinsman, sympathetically. "But let us not waste time. Tune and I are well armed. Dead the way and we will rescue your father at all hazards." "Wo must be cautious," said the brave, beautiful girl. "All depends on caution. I happen to know where the officers are watching to-niglit. It is not far. We will approach the cave where poor father has been held so long a prisoner. We will go by a back path with which I am well acquainted. Wo will attempt the rescue, and God grant we may be successful. Then we will go to the officers and ask protec tion, for we are as nothing compared with the outlaws in numbers and strength." "Why not get the officers' help first V" inquired Willard. "Because that, would take time, which must not bo wasted. The rob bers will not return for an hour at least. Bv that time wo can have father rescued and be on our way fa| join the officers." It was decided to follow Olive's plan. So, following lier down the gorge, they entered a rough, steep path ascending the mountain. The girl had thrown a dark cloak about her, concealing hei ghostly attire. Under cover of the night and the solemn, brooding cedars, they drew near the cave. Dimly, as tliey peered from behind a large rock, they could make out a solitary man sitting on a ffat stone by the mouth. Creeping softly, slyly toward him, Olive Glis son Hung her cloak over the head of the unsuspecting guard. He attempt ed to cry out, but her able assistants were too quick for him and had him gagged and bound before he had ut tered a syllable. Then Abner Glis some, pale and thin from long confine ment, was released. lie was surprised and delighted beyond measure to learn that one of his rescuers was tho son of the sister from whom ho had long suf fered estrangement. They found tho officers easily and sent them on (lie robbers' trail. The chief was captured, with some of his most notorious allies, and the moun tain gang was broken up. Our friends reached New York safely, and then a happy reunion took place. There followed a double wedding at Christmas time, when "peace on earth" found a true echo in each heart. Things a Woman Can Do Best. Oli, yes, undoubtedly there are things that a woman can do bette than a man. They may be small matters, but they exist, and a woman can readily beat a man doing them, and she should kav tho credit of it. In the first place, she can wear a petticoat, and not take it up on lioi heels when she walks, and we doubt if the wisest man living can accom plish this little feat even after a good many times trying. She can look sweet as sugar when she feels cross enough to behead some body. She can be such excellent friends with a rival, and help do up her back liair, when she hates her so that slie would be glad if she caught the small pox and got her face carved into the semblance of a Chinese cabinet. •She can scold better than any man living. She can think of more aggra vating things to say in one hour, than a man, no matter how many colleges lie has graduated from, and iiow mail}' dictionaries lie lias digested, can think of in six months. She can cry, when she cannot gain her point any other way, and it is pretty tough work for the average man to cry, and not make a mess of it. She can spank a baby better than a man. She feels that it is lier right to clo it, and a man always goes about as if he was ashamed of it, and as if he didn't exactly know where to begin, or where to leave off. She can drive hens out of the garden in half the time it will take a man to do it. It is no use to swear at hens. They do not understand profanity, but the swish of a skirt, and the flourish of a sun-bonnet, are arguments they can not withstand. A woman can find something to talk about when a man would be dead broke for a topic. She can manage to keep you waiting while she gets ready to go somewhere longer than five men could, unless they were youths in tho clutches of a first love, and had to struggle with refract ory neck-ties, A woman can get more bundles to gether in half a day's shopping than a man can carry, and she can buy goods I ten per cent, cheaper than he can, be cause, in tho first place, sho always asks everybody what tliey paid for everything, and is thoroughly posted on prices; and, in the second place, sho has the infinite patience to stand and talk to tho clerks, and wheedle, and i coax, and bargain, until, in the sheer I desperation of uttor soul-weariness, ! tliey take off two cents a yard, and j think themselves lucky to escape so ! well. TWO GREAT MISTAKES. THE SAD MISFORTUNE THAT OVER TOOK AN OLD SALT. Shipping; for a Voyage Aiound a California Farm He Trie/ ffll B| ors looked at him and TOM snickered a little bit, —n generally makes these P&p old tars mad to have a legitimate seafaring nuestion fired at them. They seem to think that everybody ought to know by intuition the odds and ends acquired in a lifetime on the vasty deep, and that ask ing questions is an idle pastime which should be frowned upon. For this rea son, perhaps, the Cap'n remained Bilent, and the lubber, seeing that he had made a bad break, considerately refrained from repeating his question. After thought fully contemplating his feet for several minutes the Cap'n suddenly observed: "These hero remarks about old people makes me think of a shipmate 1 once had named AVilliam Henry McTumble." "Was McTumble really his name?" the tandsman asked. "No; his right name was McFall, but he thought that was too harsh and abrupt. So he changed it to McTumble, which he said was more musical and 1088 liable to inr on the sensitive ears of his shipmates. He had a whole bagful of books, some of 'em two inches thick, but he could read them just the rame. He said it was" against tho law for a man to change his hamo without permission, but still he couldn't be arrested for it if the change kneant the same as the original, oven if it was put in a milder form. And I reckon ne ought to know, for ho read enough books. "William Henry was a Scotchman, who bad sailed the salt seas for thirty years before I mot him, ton years ago, in the guard-ship at tho Mare Island (Cal.) havy-ynrd. He was then a crabbed, dried, tip old mariner of 70, and I reckon he's sailing yet. About three months before 4 mot him ho had quit the sea forever, hud gone into the hills of California tc Work on a farm. But he told me after- Ward that ho hadn't the staff in him thai farmers were made of. Ho was one daj trying to raise a calf by band, ho said, hud, in order to teach' the animal to drink, AVilliam Henry nailed a piece ol leather in the bottom of the bucket and poured some milk in on it. The strap Was about two inches long, and William's object was to get the calf to suck the leather and drink tho milk at the same time. So William held tho pail in his left hand and let the calf suck a mouth ful of the fingers on his right, whilo he gradually steered its nose into the pail. The calf found the strap, but on the first pull the hungry little creature sucked about a gallon of milk up into its head through its hawse-pipes or nose-holes. I Then it backed out of tho pail and tenor ted, blowing the milk into William Henry McTumble's eyes, hair, and whis kers. Ho was so mad he batted the calf's brains out with the pail. Ho said he didn't like the business, anl wouldn't tehip on another farm again as long as he lived. The farmer had to let William go, but he held onto his three months' wages to offset tho cnlf. So William Henry returned to his home on the roll ing deep. " When ho came aboard tho guards he was rigged up in a suit of brown Califor nia overalls, heavy, hobnailed shoes, a fur cap, and a little woolen muffler twisted around his neck. I reckon he had worn that muffler day and night, win'er aud summer, since ho first left Scotland as a boy. He never took it off during the three years wo sailed together, and when 1 first met William Henry Lis muffler was full of curdled milk that the calf had snorted into it." "Did William Henry know he was run ning a milk route?" askod the lubber. "I 'spose he did, yet ho never said any thing about it. But you never saw a man so tickled over getting safely off of dry land as William Henry was. He got into a suit of sailor togs as soon as ho could, keeping nothing but his muffler and hobnailed shoes, and went strolling about tho deck. He said it did his feet good to tread tho oakum seams, and that it would bo a chilly day when anybody caught him ashore again. "When he wasn't reading out of his books he carried a full spread of canvas on his jaw rigging and talked a blue streak. He was tho talkiest A. B. I ever know and was always going on with what he knew about tho marine service. He knew morn ahnnt it thau did tho printed rules aud regulations for tho government of tho United States navy and wasn't afraid to say so. Then, his voice was one of those kind th t incite people to riot, a whee/.y, chokcd-up, rasping, gasping voice thut makes folks tired to listen lo it And his endless flow of words rippled out of him like the low, monotonous gurgle of a busted steam pipe underwater. You'll always liud that a man with one of these voices wants to do all tho talking kim*lf." "That's what we do; i n' sometimes sea men withsmooth-sailin' voices," remarked Watkins, gazing up into tho sky with a far-away look in his eyes. The Cap'n looked hard at Watkins, but his suspicions, if ho had any, wore dis pelled by tho saintly expression on that individual's face. So he went on with his story. "of course, this everlasting talk and reading got William lienry a reputation TEACHING THE CALF TO DRINK. among the men for being smart, and sorno of the sailors thought he was a great deal smarter than ho was. They thought that if a man talked he must ho smart, no matter what ho said, and Will iam Henry's inmost thoughts bowled along iu the same channel. It was generally conceded that Bill know something about everything, but one day he lost his grip nnd droppod astern. And it aU came about through his inability to swear and do quick work with his hammock lashing at tho same t me. "Liko lots of old people, William lienry had to get up early in the morn ing, an hour or so ahead of other folks. Tne reguiar hour lor taming out was b o'clock in the morning, but this old man felt that it was a duty he owed to the Government to roll ont at 4 o'clock and lash up his hammock. If he had been decent about it nobody would have kicked, but ho wasn't. He slept along side of a mess-table, and when he got up he would put on his hobnailed shoes (,he slept with nis muffler on) and stand on a bench whilo be lashed his hammock. He had thirty feet of rope with which to make seven hitches around his bed. Making a loop and passing the end of the rope through, William Henry would haul the slack across the stiff edge of the can vas hammock with a series of zip, zip, zips which sounded like a boy running at full speed and holding a stick against a picket fence. Then when he got ready to tighten up the turn he would step back and throw his weight on tho rope, letting a war-whoop at the same time. These old sailors can't touch a rope THE PUNISHMENT OF WILIJIAM HENRI M'TUMBLE. without howling like a maniac. Some times he stepped too near the edge of the bench; then the other end would fly up and William Henry would spring for the middle and fetch the bench down on deck with a crash fit to wake the dead. And that's the way the old codger would put in his time every morning with the rest of us trying to sleop. "When a sailor goes to bed ho just puts his clothes in tho hammock under the mattress. Then when reveille sounds in the morning he has just six minutes to jump into his clothes aud lash his ham mock into a neat roll liko a six-foot saw log and stow it away. If late with the operation the sailor is punished for dere liction of duty. One morning William Henry had just got his bed fixed to suit him when tho bugle sounded and William H. made the disgusting discovery that he had forgotten to take his clothes out of the hammock. Ho had nothing on but liis muffler, a short undershirt aud tho lobnailed shoes. Instead of gotting ac tion on the hammock Bill sat down on the mess-table, with hi 3 feet on the bench, and commenced to swear. Good Lord, how that old man did cuss! It was awful. The most sublimely terrific flow of unstud ied, sulphur-t linted blasphemy and torchlight profanity I ever heard rolled out of William Henry McTumble. He cursed himself and eveiy living and inan imate object in five tongues, and tho damp air blowing in off the bay precipitated the phosphorus in his languages till it hutig in festoons, blue aud dripping, from the beams overhead. "Bill was still looking at his hammock and using those fearful languages when an officer grabbed him and his bed and stood Bill up on the quarter-deck with the hammock over his shoulders. They made him stand there four hours in his shirt tail with the hammock on his shoulders, and it nearly broke the old man's heart. Ho hadn't much meat on his legs and the calves wero slewed around to the sides, which made tho sailor's laugh. And the very men who thought Bill was so smart came 'round and guyed him and threw sticky cuds of tobacco big as walnuts at his bare logs. "McTumble was a changed man after that, and seldom spoke unless ho had to." JEFFERSON'S 11ALF-BROTHER. What the Actor Says About Charles Burke. His Near Relation. It. was a rare treat to sen Burton and Burke in the same play; they acted into each other's hands with the most per fect skill; there was no striving to outdo each other, writes Joseph Jeffer son, in his autobiography in the De cember number of the Century Maga zine. If the scene required that for a time one should be prominent, the other would become the background of tho picture, and so strengthen the general effect ; by this method thgy produced a perfectly harmonious work. For instance, Burke would remain in repose, attentively listening while Bur ton was delivering some humorous speech. This would naturally act as a spell upon tho audienco, who became by this treatment absorbed in what Bur ton was saying, and having got the full force of tho effect they would burst forth in laughter or applause; then, py one accord, tnoy became suent, listening to Burke's reply, which Bur ton was now strengthening by tho same repose and attention. I have never seen this element in acting car ried so far, or accomplished with such admirable results, not even upon the French stage, and I am convinced that.' the importance of it in reaching the best dramatic effects cannot be too highly estimated. It was this characteristic feature of. the acting of these two great artiste that always set the audienco wonder J ing which was tho better. The truth is. thero was no "better" about the/ matter. They were not. horses running a race, but artists painting a picture; it was not in their minds which should win, but how they could, by their joint efforts, produce a perfect work. I profited very much by these early lessons. Dying at tha age of 32, it is wonder ful that Charles Burke left such an enduring reputation as an actor. Idp not mean that his fame lives with tlid general public, but his professional! brethren accorded to him the rarest) histrionic genius. I have sometimes heard comparisons made between Bur ton and Burke, but they were so wide ly different in their natures and theii; artistic methods that no reasonablo parallel could be drawn. Burton col ored highly, and laid on the effects with a liberal brush, while Burke wat subtle, incisive, and refined. Burton's features were strong and heavy, and his figure was portly and ungainly. Burke wa i lithe and graceful. His face was plain, but wonderfully expres sive. 'I ho versatility of this rare actor was remarkable, his pathos being quite as striking a feature as his comedy. Ho had an eye and faco that told their meaning before he spoke, a voice that seemed to come from the heart itself, penetrating, but melodious. He sang with great taste, and was a perfect musician. His dramatic effects sprung more from intuition than from study j and, as was said of Barton Booth, "the blind might, have seen him in his voice; and the deaf have heard him in his visage." Although onlv a half-brother, ho "ecmed liko a father to me. and thcro was a ueep anil strange atlection be tween us. As I look back I recall many social and professional sacrifices that he made for me, and my love for him was so great that if wo were ab sent from each other for any length of time my heart would beat with delight at his approach. It is scarcely fair to intrude upon the reador one's domestio affections, but I am irresistibly im pelled to write these words. And so thev must stand. HARVEY KENNEDY, OF NEW YORK. His Weakness Wus a Fontlnasa lor Young Lailles -His Novel Method for Getting Their Society. fOUBTLESS yon nave read a line 01 two announcing the death of Harvey Kennedy,and telling you that ho wan a very rich old Wall Btreet broker. But nothing ha-i been piintod as to the Friday night 6ight which his demise will take away from the Metropolitan Opera House. Mr. Kennedy was a wid ower. lie showed no inclination to remar ry, yet he was very fond of young ladies, and his method of getting their society without paying partic ular attention to any siugle one was ingen ious and genial. He had a cairi.'ge built to hold eight persons. It was a cross be tween a fine private coupe and a big pub lic stage. Two big prauciug horses drew it, and a liveried coachman sat high on the front Beat. The other portion of Mr. Kennedy's outfit was a box for one night a week at the opera. He hired it from Cyrus W. Field at $175 a night, and was a sub-tenant at that price all through last winter and during the present season un til his suddon death. For each Friday night he invited six young ladies to go with him to tho opera. His guests were chosen from among all his acquaintances, and not often was the same girl enter tained twice. For each party he also secured a matron as a chaperone, and he himself made the eighth person in the party. To every lady he sent a hugo bou quet of the costliest roses, tied with a very long and wide satin ribbon ex actly matching her dress, or at least harmonizing with it in col or. To be more exact about this he usually obtained a scrap of the chief material in each instance, and these sam ples were delivered to the florist, who ob j tained ribbons for tho eight bouquets to j suit. Every Friday night 'the Kennedy j baroucho would start out from his own I quarters-he had lately lodged in the ! Union League Club—with the host alone . within it. His first call would be at the i house of the chaperone, and thence thoy | would go tho round of six honored domi ciles, finally bring up at tho Metropolitan with tho always envied load. Mr. Ken nedy was a handsome old man, large of stature, with a ruddy, beaming face, and snow-white hair. It was an odd spectacle to see him in his box surrounded by a bevy of vivacious girls, handsomely costumed and profusely decked with the roses of his providing. Alter the opera was over, j he always took the party to one or another |of the most fashionable restaurants, ! where he treated them to a magnificent 1 supper. The cost of this weekly enter tainment could not have been less than five hundred dollars. Mr. Kennedy died of heart disease. Now, how many of my readers will fail to remark that of course no old widower's heart could stand such a complex strain as that? When a man's afraid, A beautiful maid Is a cheering sight to see. That is what you heard tho maiden sing in "The Mikado." She was telling about a capital punishment which she hud wit nessed, and her declaration that the doomed man, just beforo losing his head, gazed upon her pretty face for courage, was always taken as a Gilbert phantasy. But tho idea is actually put into practical use in the largest of New York establish ments where teeth aro extracted under laughing gas. I have been there two or three times, and have watched this fea ture of tho business with amused inter j est. Now, as you already know, laugh ing-gas random the patient oblivious but not insensible. Ho reels all that is done to him, find often makes a lot of fuss about it. but upon awakening ho can re call nothing that had happened. It is when the "man's afraid" that tbo "beau tiful maid" is placed beforo him as "a choering sight to see." In other words, while the strong-armed dentist stands at 0110 side of the victim's chair, with the gas bag roady for him : to breathe out of, a girl with an amiably I pretty face takes a position closo to tho opposite arm. She gazes sympathetically yet smilingly into his face. She isn't coquettish about it. It may be described as a sort of cousinly smile—that is, somowliere midway between a sisterly grin and an ogle with no tie of consan guinity in it. As the man breathes in the gas, and loses his ROUSOB, tho last fading vision is that of the girl's encour aging face. The practical value of this devico HOB in tho fact—and I have this on tho authority of tho boss of the place —that a goodly proportion of the patients would become obstreperous and violent while under the influence of tho gis but for tho effect of tho girl's presence. That may seem like uonsenso, but in practico it proves to be good sense. When tho man awakes ho finds that his guardian angei is still there, and departs feeling, I suppose, that she has taken a deep and poignant intorost in his particu lar case.— New York letter to Chicago Lcduer. Don't Believe it: "Americans are good customers here," said the saleman. "Those big heavy bracelets you soe there aro bought chiefly by publicans' wives. Wo sell plenty of wedding lings at 1 shil ling 3 pence each." "But marriages don't occur often; surely people can afford a few shillings once in a lifetimo for a real gold ring ?" "Ah, you don't understand. These wedding' rings aro bought by poor people and slipped on when the real thing is at tho pawnbroker's. It is not before the marriage, hut after, when tho rainy day comes, that thoso rings are bought. We sell grosses of them." "Who are your best customersV" "Well, there aro rich women who have their own jewel sets imitated, Americans, the 'profession,' and mash ers and people who have come down in the world. When these latter go away for their holidays to see their friends they don't liko to show their poverty. For a few shillings they can get such a stock of jewelry that in their own towns and villages they are kings and queens."— Pall Mali Budget. Why Blind Persons Seldom Smoke. A peculiarity about the blind is that there is seldom one of them who smokes. Soldiers and sailors accus tomed to smoking, and who lxavo lost their sight in action, continue to smoke for a short while, but soon giro up tho habit. Thoy say that it gives them no pleasure when they can not see tho smoke, and somo huvo said that they can not taste the smoke unless thoy see it. This almost demonstrates tho theory that if you blindfold a man in a room full of smoke and put a lighted and an unlighted cigar in his mouth alternately he will not be able to toll the difference. — St. Louis Republic. WISE AND UNWISE. FIGURED goods—heiresses. INVARIABLY seasonable salt, mus tard, pepper, vinegar. " WHY is the way of the transgressor so hard ?" '"S'pose because it's traveled so much." WHEN a Chicago girl gets therewith j both feet, how impressive and emphatic is the arrival. THE raoe iH not always to the swift. A one-legged fat man can catch cold as quick as a sprinter. BlNES —Barlow says betting is not against his principles? Winks —Of course not; lie hasn't any. "You are always talking about a donkey. You don't mean me?" "What ails you ? There are many donkeys be sides you." seems to be greatly exercised over a triple aliauce, but out in Utah they are as thick as the specks on a turkey's egg. THE man who boasted that he was "regular as the sun" forgot that that luminary rises only twice in the year at the same time. "You look so much like your broth er," said Dennis to Phelim, "that I could tell yez was brothers if I'd niver seen aitlier av yez." "WHAT I admire about Josephine is her self-possession." "Yes, I fear she can't help that. I don't know anybody else who would have her." "How is your furnace?" "First rate. We manage to get it warm every day, but it is a little selfish about letting any of the heat get away from it." FIRST Newsboy—There goes a gent. Chase him. Second Newsboy—No use. Just saw him come out of a barber shop. He's heard all the news there is. ABDICATING the throne: Mrs. Tipton Flatte—Why do you cry, cook? Bridget (about to be married) —It's niesilf that'll soon be no better off than the rest of yez. TEACHER (to eight-year-old scholar) —What is the population of this city? Scholar—s66,oo4. "The book says 506,663." "But I was born since last census." YOUNG wife—A horrid rat ate one of those lovely canaries my husband got me, and that's why I got a cat. Matron —Well? Young wife—And then the cat ate tho other. MOTHER —Now, girls, a3 you've fin ished your daily quarrel, suppose you go anil eat some dinner. Arabella (sar castically)—Oh, I suppose you want us to swallow our feud. ONE of our contemporaries, in noting the successful career of a venerable man who has just died in Maine, makes the startling statement that "he was born without a dollar in his pocket." EASILY explained: Upson Downes —What bright glances Miss Gibbons Bhoots at young Featherly to-inght. Hound About—They are quite notice able, but not surprising considering the amount of powder she has on her face. MR. BROWN (awakening from a two weeks' spree)— Where am I? Mrs. Brown (wishing to make tho awakening as horrible as possible)—Y'ou aro in in hades. Brown—And you here, too! Oh, my punishment is greater than I can bear! MRS. GREENEYES— It is useless for you to attempt to deceive me. Imagine my feelings when I find a blonde hair on your coat when you know my hair is black. Mr. Greeneyes—Well, my dear, if you don't like it, why don't you bleach your hair? "Have you a quarter you can give me, sir?" asked a tattered-looking individu al of a citizen. "My wife and children have hud nothing to eat for two days." "Oh, that won't do," replied the gentleman; "I gave you 50 cents yes terday. What did you do with that ?" "I had to buy meat for the dog." How They Dance iptoe. There is a popular impression that ballet dancers have the soles of their shoes made stiff, so as to enable them to ci anco about on their toes. "That is nonsense," and Miss Qualitz (a premiere danseuse) exhibited a pair of her dancing-shoes to illustrate. "You can't stand up this way with your ordinary shoes on," and tho pre miere gracefully mounted her toes and viewed tho reporter's three dollar foot wear with extreme disgust. "A stiff solo in a shoe would not help, but absolutely prevent, dancing. And, besides, the strain is not on tha toe, but it comes on the rear of the an kle. I believe that's what you Ameri can.- call it. But by keeping the body in the proper position much of tliq strain is relieved, and the dancer ap pears much more graceful to those who understand what correct ballet dancing is". — Wash inqton l'o. l. Stoves for Monkeys. Keeper Havens of the Grcss Zoo crawled on to tho Fair street dummy with two big gray two-gallon jugs in his hands yesterday. "Going to start a blind tiger?" ho was asked. "No, these are monkey stoves." "Monkey what?" "Stoves, man, stoves. Don't yon catch on ? Everybody has been won dering how I would keep tho monkeys from freezing during the winter. These aro my stoves. I'll fill these two jugs full of hot water, wrap some hay around tliom, and set Ihoui in the mon key cage." "Will the monkeys take to them?" "Trust a monk for that. They'll sit around those jugs and hug them worse than a tramp around a freight caboose stove. Next morning when I go in there they will ha an warm and snug as you ever saw ."— Atlanta Constitu tion. Wouldn't lime to Build the Fire. Physician (diagnosing tlio case)— Y'ou say you feel an inordinate desire to lie in bed mornings and to over sleep ? Sir, you are a very sick man. Your liver is badly affected, and yon must Patient —Say, I'll give you SSO if you'll tell my wife that! She declares it's nothing but laziness 1 IN order thoroughly to realize our) selves, we must bo conscious of our ab sorption, or at least of our inolusion, in a greater and grander system than that of c-windividual surroundings;in order to find our lives, we must first discover the art of losing them. THAT which is easy to do, though it may bo worth doing, is not so impor tant as that which i 3 hard and "dis agreeable, and which, therefore, finds fewer workers.