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Across The Sunset Bay.
The West is one transcendent glow
Of sunset splendor hand-in-hand
The waves come singing up the sand
Their summer songs of long ago!
Our boat rocks lightly on the tide.
With gleaming prow and snowy sail,
That dips before the freshening gale,
As through the curling foam we glide.
The waves rejoice, the wind is fair
As round the reedy cape we sweep,
And past the Light exultant leap
To the white arms of Delaware!
Across the shoals and far away
We skim (the low green shore-a-lee)
And face the rosy spheres of sea
That glitters 'neath the dying day!
Free! free at last! as air or light!
Our very griefs are laid asleep
No fear pursues us on the deep
To dull the rapture of our flight!
Beneath us rocks the blue abyss
Serenely in the blue above
Flames the resplendent star of Love
The rosy harbenger of bliss!
Lean on this faithful breast of mine,
Fair face that blossoms as the rose
In that sweet light that overflows
The round of sea and sky divine!
And sing me, love, some roundelay,
While, far as flees the tireless wind,
We leave the world of care behind.
And drift into the dying day.
But faster, further, as we strain
Along the sunset's westward trail,
The lurid glories fade and fail,
And vanish from the heaving main
And night pursues our dying bark,
Past looming capes and shadowy lees,
With glimpses of whitening seas,
And hollow murmurs of the dark.
THE WEBSTER HOMESTEAD.
Reminiscence* of the Family Present Oc
cupants of tlie Place.
Cor. of the Boston Transcript.
(iOYesterday we visited the Webster home
stead, or rather the ruins of what was for
merly a very happy and hospitable home
stead, and the graveyard where rests the
remains of the great statesman and the
deceased members of his family. The
grounds, ^till fine and ample, though the
estate has been reduced from the original
proportions ot upwards of 700 acres to
about 350, the out-buildings which are in
good repair, and the foundation and cel
larage of the principal part of the man
sion, which still remain, suggest at once
the great desirability of rebuilding the
house sufficient for occupation, and this
I believe, Mrs. Fletcher Webster is ex
tremely desirous of doing, were means
available for the purpose. But Daniel
Webster was not a money-making nor a
money-saving man. Every dolltr he
possesed was earned and spent in improv
ing his home, or in acts of kindness or
necessity. His well-known liberality was
also taken advatage of by scheming indi
viduals who extracted from him sums that
would now be of the utmost service in re
storing his home and preserving from ruin
and decay a spot which he has made in
teresting anl so memorable. The fire
which completely destroyed the mansion
took place, as wili be remembered, last
February, and was, without doubt, tne
work of an incendiary. By superhuman
efforts a part of the furniture, some of
of the pictures and a little of the silver
and china were saved, but the whole of
the valuable library, papers, letters and
documents were destroyed, thus depriv
ing the bereaved members of the family
of more than an historic hometheir
most important and treasured resources.
On our way to go to the graveyard we
stopped and took, with becoming rever
ence, a drmk from Daniel Webster's pet
spring, and found it most delicious water.
The section of the rural cemetery which
contains the graves and memorial stones
of the Webster family is fenced off with
an iron railing. A low, plain headstone,
only "Daniel Webster" upon it, marks
the family tomb. The grave stines are
ranged below it, those of Daniel Webster
and his beloved wife, Grace Fletcher, oc
cupying the first place. Upon her stone
is the following inscription:
GRACE FLETCHER WEBSTER
Born January 16,1781,
Died January 21,1828,
Blessed are the pure in heart for they
shall see God.
Mr. Fleicher Webster was 49 years old
when he was killed at the battle of Bull
Run, and upon the stone which was eiect
ed by the officeis of his regiment, the
Twelfth Massachusetts, are the following
touching words taken from a speech of
"And if I am too old myself, I hope
here are those connected with me who
are young and willing to defend their
country to the last drop of their own
blood. -Daniel Webster.
The words upon his own gravestone
set at rest the charge of skepticism which
had been made against him, and though
somewhat lengthy, and the wind upon
the high, marshy ground blowing a gale,
I copied them, Miss Ward reading them
aloud for my benefit while Miss Phillipps
kindly improvised a writing desk. The
following is the iuscriution:
"Philosophical argument, especially
that drawn from the vast economy of the
universe, in common with the apparent
injustice of this globe, has sometime
shaken my reason for the faith which is
in me but my heart has alwavs assured
and reassured me that the God" of Jesus
Christ must be a divine reality. The
Sermon on the Mount cannot be a merely
human production. This belief enter
into the depaths of my consciousness, ans
the whole history of man proves it
The present occupants of the home of
Daniel WeDster and resident members of
his family consist of Mrs. Fletcher Web
ster, the widow of his son, and her son
and daughter Ashburton and Mrs. Car
rie Webster Day. Many offers of a
friedly asylum were made when the
great misfortune of the loss of their
home occurred, but Mrs. Webster wiselv
went to work to reconstruct as much as
possible their scattered household goods
and provide a temporary shelter which
they could call their own. She took the
old Winslow House, foimerly owned and
occupied by Gov. Winslow and by his
son. General Winslow, though it had long
been untenantedwas said to be haunted,
and altogether so dilapidated as to be
considered unhabitable. The plaster had
all fallen from the ceilings, leaving the
rafters exposed, the floors were eaten
away, and the once famous scene of
many a gay festivity given over to the
dark, destructive hand of time
and the ravages ot the whole
vampire tribe. Out of this prom
ising material Mrs. Fletcher Web
ster, her son and daughter have, with
-B- i-t- t-i'^sM'*~ajw
wonderful taste, industry and ingenuity,
created a paradise, after Morris's own heart
A rustic piazza has been added to the
plain, unsightly exterior, which is covered
with trailing vines. The lower rooms are
filled with what are most precious relics
of their former home and past history.
There are some valua^e old portraits, the
full-length picture of Danial'Webster, by
Ames a fine Wouverman's showing his
peculiar effects of light and shadow some
rare old china and costly articles of fur
niture, and, what is treasured most, the fa
vorite library chair of Mr. Webster, a
great, deep, capacious arm-chair, covered
with morocco, and with attachment in
front for reading or writing. For the
two most valuable pictures in the posses
sion of the family the house is too small
and they are, therefore, left in other cus
tody. These are the celebrated portraits
of Lord Ashburton and Danial Webster
by Healey. These pictures were painted
for and given to each other, the artist
painting Mr. Webster's a second time for
his family. They are admirable likenes
ses, and, apart from their historic inter
ests, are among the finest productions of
the artist. The family are now, however,
not able to keep them, and Mrs. Fletcher
Webster would gladly sell them, so that
they could form part of a gallery, and be
properly kept and cared for, while the
money would be applied in paying off
the remnant of a mortgage which the
small insurance on the house did not
cover, and which prevents the trustees
Mrs. Fletcher Webster shows the re
mains of great personal beauty, and has
a bright, accomplished and charming
daughter, who has already shared the
misfortune of her mother, for she is a
widow, though still very young. The son,
Ashburton, is also handsome,and very in
telligent and gentlemanly, but he is un
fortunately deprived of a career in this
country, not only by his illustrious name,
but by the necessity which chains him to
the side of his mother and sister.
Attempt to Hoax George Combe.
A medical man in Edinburgh, with
the help of a friend who was a painter,
modeled a turnip into the shape of a hu
man head. A cast was taken from this
model, and was forwarded to Combe with
the request that he would favor the send
er with his observations on the talents
and dispositions indicated oy the head.
It was added that the cast was from the
skull of a person of an uncommon char
acter. Combe instantly detected the
trick, and got Abram,"who had some
reputation in his private circle as a verse
maker, to write a parody on the "Man of
Thessaiy," which was pasted on the brow
of the cast, and then it was returned
There was a man in Edinburgh,
And he was wond'rous wise
He went into a turnip field
And cast about his eyes.
And wlun he cast his eyes about,
He saw the turnips fine
"How many heads are there," says, he,
"That likeness bear to mine!"
"So very like they are, indeed,
No sage I'm sure could know
This turnip head which I have on
From those which there do grow."
He pulled a turnip from the ground,
A cas*. from it was thrown
He sent it to a Spurzheimite,
And passed it for his own.
And so indeed it truly was
His own in every sense
For cast and joke alike were made
All at his own expense.
The author of the attempted hoax call
ed on the following day and assured
Combe that he meant no offence, but only
a jest. Combe replied that if the author
was satisfied with his share of the wit, no
feeling of uneasiness remained on the
other side.Life of George Combe.
The Mysterious Masked Lady.
At the masked ball,, lately given by
Frances, Countess Waldegrave, a lady of
distinguished appearance, dressed in
black and wearing a domino, observed
two gentlemen who were conversing un
masked in an alley of the beautiful gar
dens at Strawberry Hill. She approach
ed them with easy grace, and opened con
versation in a light and bantering tone.
The el ier of her male interlocutors was
assured, by what "the Antiquary"' would
have called "his fair enemy,"" that she
knew all about him, and could, and she
would, tell him many quear stories about
himself. Well able to defend himself in
tongue encounters, the gentleman, whsse
wit and whose persiflage were once the
delight of the House of Commons, in
which be is now a much-missed absentee,
replied that if she knew even a tithe of
the mischief he had done in life she
would compel him to borrow her domino.
Carrying the war into the enery's coun
try, he proceeded jestingly to impugn
her assertion that she was a married wom
an and accused her of having escaped
from boarding school to take part in the
Strawberry Hill gayeties. His younger
male companion, being scarcely inferior
in badinage, asked permission to touch her
marriage ring, and, accepting the gloved
hand which she promptly extended, re
marked, after satisfying himself as to
the correctness of her claim, that so fair
a gage was worthy of more respectful ta
lution, and was "permitted to raise her
black gloves to her lips. After a
diversified conversation, which lasted
about a quarter of an hour, the lady glid
ed gracefully away, leaving her comp m
ions in puzzled mystery as to her identity.
Their guesses were more ingenious than
described when an hour later he was
laughingly informed by the lady of the
most exalted rank in the assembly (the
Princess of Wales) that she herself was
the escaped boarding-school miss, and
that the domino which she had removed
from her face was at his serviceto hide
Quin the Actor.
A bright paragraph in the life of Quin
is the assistance so delicately and heart
ily given to the starving Diet Winston.
Stretched upon a miserable truckle bed,
without food, money, clothes, or hat, lies
the unfortunate actor. A knock is heard
at the door, and Quin enters, followed by
a man bearing a respectable suit. "Now,
Diet, my boy,"' cries he, "how is it you
are not up and at rehersal?" He has
provided him not only with clothes, but
an engagement. Bewildered, his heart
heating with gratitude, Winstrn dresses
himself. Decently clad, employment
found for him, but starving, no money to
bu~ even a morsel of food. "0,*Mr.
Quin," he falters, "what shall I do until
Saturday for food money?" "I have done
all 1 could," is the answer "you must
now put your hand in your own pocket."
He does, and draws out a ten-pound note.
1 'QlanC is a nickname, common with
the French-Canadian boys of the quaint
Acadian settlement of Madawaska. It
answers to our "Bill," and comes, I think,
from the French Guillaume, or William.
The Madawaska children pronounced it
as if spelled Glarm, very broadly.
But Glam was not a boy, though he
bore a boy's name. Neither was he a
dogthough I once saw a coach-dog
named "Bill," Indeed, I am afraid it
will disappoint the readers to learn that
Glam was a sheep, of the gender which
country people call a "knock over a
a sheep with great curled horns and a
fearfully hard head.
Boys and doga are often written about
but it is seldom, I think, that a sheep
has his biography told. Yet Glam's life
and exploits are worth recording and I
think that after reading what I am about
to relate, the reader will say so.
Glam bolonged to a little bacon faced
Madawaska lad named Maxime Lizotte.
His father called him "Marxeem,,' or
'Marx." But his father being a lumber
man, was at home but very little, and
the change of the little clos, or farm, situ
ated a few miles from the hamlet of St.
Basil, was left mostly to Maxime, the
boy sowed buckwheat and planted po
tatoes in the spring, and in September
harvested his crop, burying his potatoes,
like a squirrel, deep in a hole in the
ground, that they might be kept safely
for winter use. The Madawaska people
have no cellars. If they did have them
their houses would be warmer, for the
climate is very severe, and winter lasts
nearly or quite seven months of the vear.
Maxime did the hardest part of his
farm work with two little "sparked"
cows. These yoked to his plow and his
cart, one ot the queer customs of that
His plow would have amused a New
England lad, for it looked more like a
dry tamarac root than a modern plow
But it did its work, with the help ot
Maxime and his yoke of cows, These he
had named "Gadelle" and "Gellette,-'
names which mav be freely translated in
to English as "Plum" and ''Cream-pot
though it is doubtful if either word could
be found in a "Paris" French dictionary.
It was very amusing to see Maxime at
his plowing, shouting, "Herret, Gadelle!
Besides these two cows, the boy had
owned a flock of twelve or fifteen sheep,
and Glam was the lord of the flock. In
his lambhood, he had been a great pet, a
sort of "cosset." No doubt he was given
his full share of provender and other
good things and this, perhaps, was the
reason why he was so large.
At the age of five years, when the
writer saw him, Glam certainly weighed
not less than 200 pounds. From the
great length of his wool, he lo iked even
heavier. It was said that the weight of
his annual fleece was fifteen pounds, which
seemed to me a pretty heavy story.
When a lamb, Glam was no doubt gen
tle, like all of his race but as he grew
older and larger, he became conscious of
the forcible arguments that lay in his
big curled horns and hard head, and used
them to resent familianies from strang
ers He became a "knock-over" in good
earnest to all the neighboring boys.
Maxime and Glam, however, understood
each other, and avoided antagonisms
that should have no place between
Glam's first exploit of note occurred
when he had reached his third year.
Maxime's sheep-pasture was on the
mountain-side, above his clos It was a
tract of thirty or forty acres, that were
only partially cleared from trees and
brush. The public morals of that dis
trict are probably not better than those
of other localities. At any rate, farmers
like Mexicans, who owned lambs, occas
ionally lost them, and the theft was not
unfrequently charged to their neighbors
and not to the bears and other wild
Then, too, the "river drivers,'* as they
passed up and down the St. John's had
an unpleasant custom of kidnapping fat
lambs that might be found upon its
shores, and roasting them over their
During the latter part of May and the
first week of June, when the drivers were
coming down the river, Maxime used to
go to his pasture once or twice a day, to
keep watch over nis little flock.
One foggy morning, as he was calling
the sheep together, he was struck by the
appearance of Glam, who seemed to be
standing guard over something red that
was lying on the grourd at a distance
from the re3t of the flock. Whatever the
object was, it had life for while he look
ed, it rose partly up, but Glam, drawing
back, at once butted it flat again.
Maxime ran to the animal, and, lo!
the red object was a red-shirted river
man, who was in sorry plight. He could
scarcely speak, but contrived to stammer
out the words that he thought his back
Near by, lying on the ground, was one
of the best lambs of the flock, with the
tendons of his hind-legs cut. The would
be thief had a dirk in his hand, with
which he had made desperate efforts to
quiet Glam, but had only succeeded in
wounding the sturdy animal.
The fellow had little to say for himself.
He had caught and was carrying off the
lamb on. his shoulders, when Glam
charged him Trom behind, striking him
full in the back and afterward, when he
tried to rise, offered continual objection
by knocking him flat again.
There is a little Catholic hospital at St.
Basil. The lamb stealer was taken there
and afterward recovered. So Glam was
not a murderer', though if he had been, in
su.h a case, I for one should have he'd
him to be fully justified. It was his
business to defend his flock, and he did
so at the risk of his own 1-fe.
Next came what is to me a less interest
ing event in Glam's life. The following
autumn, two Frenchmen passed Maxime's
farm, driving before them a flock of
sheep. With ihe flock was a large buck.
Seeing Glam, and noting his large size,
the men challenged Maxime to match him
against their own buck ior a butting
Max consented, I am sorry to say, and
the two bucks were turned loose in a
field. At first they merely eyed each
other suspiciously. Then jealousy seemed
to seize them, and, after some menacing
stamps of their hoofs, they "squared off"
as Max said.
First they drew apart, backing deliber
ately away from each other lor a hundred
feet or more. Then they charged at full
gallop, like old-time knights. When
wit in ten feet of each other, both paused
and again drew back. It seemed as if
each though the hadn't secured momen
tum enough to give full effect to the coli
Again they drew back to almost duoble
their hrst distance apart. Then they
charged. There was no pause then.
Their heads smote together with a sound
ing crack. The result was disastrous to
Glam's antagonist, for his heck was bro
ken, and he fell sidewise and died.
As for Glam, he shook his head slight
ly, then pawed his dead rival, and turned
to the spectators, as much as to sav
"Fetch on anothor."
The two Frenchmen were much excited
and wanted to kill Glam. For my part,
I think it would have been more than
justice if* they had been made by legal
enactment to butt their own Leads'togeth
There is a kind of wild-cat,, or lynx,
~i ij"A A lemon is an insignificant thing, but
found in the region of Glam's exploits, **e like its ade. in keeping cool
that sometimes throttles sherp. It
when surprised while eating its prey, will
fight savagely, and is then by no Means
an antagonist to be coveted by either man
or beast. Sometimes the old males reach
the size of a large dog, and have long re
tractile claws and big round heads
One morning in the spring, shortly
after the sheep had been turned into the
pasture, Maxime, on going there to give
them salt, found both Glam and one of
his largest lambs were not with the flock.
The other sheep seemed to have been re
After a brief search Maxime found the
lamb in some bushes, dead. Its throat
was torn and bunches of wool were pull
ed out and scattered around. But where
Maxime called and called, but it was
not till he had searched almost every
section of the pasture that he last saw his
lordship. He was standing under a yel
low birch-tree. Glam must have attack
ed the marauder and driven it from the
lamb, and had butted it so hotlv that the
lynx had been forced to climb "the birch
Maxime ran to the house of a neigh
bor, borrowed a gun and then shot the
But Glam's great featone which it
seems to me should make him forever
famous in the historv of sheepwas not
performed till the autumn ot the next
The black bear is also common in the
reigon where Maxime lives. Farmers
owning sheep often suffer from its attacks,
which are usually made in the night.
Sometimes an entire flock of twelve" or
fifteen sheep has been killed in a night,
by a single bear.
That autumn, several of Maxime's
neighbors, on that side of the river, re
peatedly lost sheep. Rightly or wrongly,
they attributed their losses to one particu
lar bear, which had been seen at several
To secure the safety of his flock,
Maxime, who was a prudent lad, drove
his sheep home every night, and shut
them in their cote. But oue afternoon,
toward the last of September, the boy
had his buckwheat to get in, for it threat
Before his last load of wheat reached
the barn, it was twilight. Taking his
salt dish, he hurried up the hillside to the
pasture. Just as he reached the log fence,
he saw the sheep running along the upper
side of the lot, with a large black animal
Dark as it already was, Maxime knew
the animal to be the "sacre oors noir."
Bent on saving his sheep, he leaped the
fence, and ran toward the frightened ani
mals. But he had a bushy hollow to
cross. When he had reached the other
side, the bear was no longer chasing the
sheep. Glam was facing him, and back
ing, as if he had just given his bearship a
butt, and was preparing another.
Maxime heard the bear growling sav
agely, and feeling somewhat atraid, as he
had no weapon but a club, he concluded
to remain a spectator. Glam backed off
thirty or forty yards, then, lowering his
horns, plunged at the bear. Seeing the
ram ming, the animal rose on its hind
legs, and stretched out its paws to seize
Glam's hard head, coming like a shot,
hit the bear full in the stomach, in the
very roundest portion of it, and instead ol
clasping the buck, he went heels over
head backward! Maxime said it sound
ed like striking on a big pumpkin.
With a fierce growl, the astounded bear
scrambled up. Bat at the same time
Glam had backed off again. Maxime
could plainly hear their heavy breathing,
Scarcely had the bear regained Lis fett
when the ram again charged him with
tremendous force. Again the bear rose,
and again was knocked fairly heels over
head before he could seize his hard-head
This maneuver was repeated eight or
nine times. At each charge of the buck,
the bear would rise, bear-fashion, to
grapple Glam, and every time was
promptly sent sprawling upon the
After the eighth or nineth "round,"
the bear failed to rise, Glam butted at
him several times more, however, but he
he did not respond.
Maxime then went cautionsly up to
the prostrate animal, who lay limp, and
with his tongue hanging out. So com
pletely used up was he that the lad had
no difficulty in making an end of the
dangerous brute with his club.
And now, if any reader of the Com
panion has a better true story of either
buck or bear, I should like to hear it.
Hang On Like a Beaver.
When our Tom was six years old,
he went into the forest one a'ternoon to
meet the hired maa. who was coming
home with a load of wood. The man
placed master Tommy on top of the load,
and drove homeward. Just before reach
ing the farm the team went pretty brisk
ly down a steep hill. When Tommy en
tered the house his mother said:
'Tommy, my dear, were you not
frightened when the horses went trotting,
so swiftly down Crow hill'*"
"Yes, mother, a little." replied Tommy
honestly, "but I asked God to help me,
and hung on like a beaver."
Sensible Tom! Why sensible! Be
cause he joined work to praying. Let
his words teach the life lesson in all
troubles pray and hang on like a beaver,
by which I mean that, while you ask
God to help you, you must help yourself
with all your might.
A thousand lilies blossom, unaware.
Here, where the earth seems chill with
And in the flowery arbutus the dove
Still calls her truant mate, who lingers yet,
A.6 though the world were always sweet and
And you and I had nothing to regret
And hope for against hope, and think
Till all things fade.
And so your lips may often wear a smile,
And so my heart may leap to music still
Your soul may fire, and all yuor being
And all your manhood lift itself on high
In din of battle, or in sacred aisle:
Yet under all must lurk one memory,
A grieving for a good time that is gone.
Till all things fade!
Humors of the Day.
The New Orleans Picayune informs us
men in Salt Lake City.
Fashionable mother: "Maria, I'm al
most discouraged. How many rimes
have I told you not to say tater, but per
Painful Question by the Sultan: "Is
this Turkey, or it it merely portions of
England, Russia, Austria, and other
A man in Detroit has recently invented
an apparatus for arresting and extinguish
ing sparks. Are the girls going to stand
A discomfitted soldier, who found thit
he had shot an Indian already defunct,
was overheard to muimur, "I didn't
know it was Lo dead."
The only difference between an ele
phant with a broken ivory and a town in
Alabama is, one has a loose tusk, sir, and
the other a Tuskaloosa.
The fat girl of Iowa, who weighed 600
pounds, is dead. It used to be her re
gretful boast that she never sat on a man's
knee in all her born days.
"What business is yeur father in?"
''Sure! and I do' nc. He's an
agitator, or a dictator, or
a speculatora tatur ot s*me kind, army
"Ah," said the fly, as it crawled around
the bottle, "I have passed through the
hatching age, the creeping age, the fly
ing age, and now I'm in the mucilage,
and there it stuck.
They were having a family set-to, and
she asked him if there was anything in
the past that he would like to recall, and
he heartlessly answered, "Yes, the day
you first refused me."
"What time is it?" asked a customer of
a restaurant clerk, as he settled for his
breakfast. "It's a quarter after ate," re
plied the clerk, as he raked in the cash
and the twenty-five cent check.
There isn't much difference between an
id Roman soldier and a cannibal who
iust dined on a nice young female
Nonary, lor the former was a gladia-
""-.d the latter is glad-be-ate-her too
sigh for one glance of your rye,"
Ri-oled an impecunious fellow as he
vodered into a leading saloon a few
!iys ago. He got but a "glance," his
range of vision being suddenly transfer
red to the outer air.
A lecturer, addressing a mechanic's in
stitute, contented that "Art could not im
prove Nature," when one ot the audience
set the whole assembly in a roar by ex
claiming, "how would you look without
It is well to loook at both sides of a
fan. On a "heated" Sunday in Phila
delphia recently the minister was fan
ning himself vigorously. He did not
see, but the congregation did, that the
reverse of his fan bore the inscription,
"Buy Boggle's Bitters."
Did the prophet Isaiah ever eat at a
railroad station? It certainly looks so,
for how could he have described it so
literally if he had not: "And he shall
snatch on the right hand, and be hungry
and he shall eat on the left hand, and
shall not be satisfied."
The young man had given his views
about everything to everybody for an un^
endurable half hour, when the old man
said, with nice courtesy: "I beg your
pardon, sir, but if you begin teaching
everybody at eighteen, when do you in
tend to begin learning anything?"
"Sweets to the sweet," said a young
man on passing the syrup to a young
lady seated at one ol" our hotel tables.
"And beets to the beats,' remarked the
lady, shoving a dish of that vegetable
toward the young man. For some reason
the observation cast a settled gloom over
a countenance that just before was radiant
"My son, would you like to steal one
of those melons?" "Yes, sir," was the
prompt reply. "You would, eh? I am
sorry to hear that. If you should steal
one of those melons, my boy, do you
know what the result might be?" The
lai scratched his head, surveyed the pile
a min, and answeied, "I 'spect the
plaguey thing would be green all the way
"Now, then, madame, please look
stead i'y at this place on the wall," said
a photograpuer to an old lady, when he
he had put her in position and the plate
in the camera. The old lady looked
hard at the spot indicated, then got up
and walked across tne floor and minutely
inspected it, and then, turning to the
photographer, gently remarked, "1 don't
see anything there.''
The Hoosier Printer.
A printer tells this story: At one time
I worked on a country newspaper. One
day a green looking hooiser wandered
up stairs and looked sheepishly around
him. He said he "jest wanted to know
how the thing was done. He was always
sot on larnin' how to print the news and
things." He watched carefully the pro
cess of setting the type, and thought he
jest knew where to put his fingers on
the letters." I informed him that it
would take years to get perfect at it, at
which he laughed me to scorn, and said
he could "do it as fast as vou kin after
larnin'the places where the letters come
from, and that he could learn that in a
half an hour." I offered to bet him a
greenback, that I could fill the stick
three times to his once, at which he re
marked: "Wal, sonny, I ain't got no
scrip about jes' now, but if you will al
low this 'ere timer lo lay along with your
fiver, I don't mmd tryin' to take the con
sate cuter you." After some preliminar
ies, a bet of the above nature was effect
ed, and^greeny spent one solid half hour
"larnin' the places where they belonged,"
when he professed to know where every
letter was as I well as I did. I handed
him some reprint copy, a stick and iule,
showed him how to hold the stick, and'
we started. In just seventeen minutes,
amid the opened mouthed wonderment
of the rest of the boys, greeney dumped
a stick of solid brevier, and I was sold.
He was only a poor tramp that wanted
a lift on the road, and chose this as a
means to satisfv the demands of the rail
Peat MLen and Women in Shetland.
The lives of these people are simple
and uneventful enough. The chain, is a
very short, one and the links are not scat
tered. They go forth to their daily work
and return to their daily rest, and have
no thought or ambition beyond. Their
aspc ct, I have said, is picturesque. They
are all ages, some young, others bending
under the weight of yt ars. There they
go one after the other, with their baskets
or kishes, as they are called, fastened up
on the back by means of a strap over
each shoulder, rising above their heads,
and piled up with squares of black peat
This naturally gives them all a stooping
position suggestive of hard work and fem
inine weakness, that quickly appeals to
the sympathies. Manv of tticm wear
shoes made out of cowhide, strong and
cheap, but perhaps without form, and
with small pretentions to neatness and
cleanliness. And these they often "save"
by carrying them their hands. Many,
too, are without stockings, and they trude
along bare-footed and baiMegged, and
only look in consequence the more pov
erty stricken. Their petticoats are short,
and generally of some dark, coarse ma
teria!, with the color of which the peat
getting sufficiently harmonizes. Upon
their head they wear the inevitable ker
chief of thick Shetland wool, generally
gray, and sometimes i ed Their faces are
sunburned ana weather- beaten. Those
of the old women are often strangely
and wonderfully wrinkled, which, with
their attitude, gives them a look of ex
treme age, and almost descripitude. The
younger women are many of them hand
some I saw a few really beautiful faces.
As they go along the road nearly all are
knitting stockings or some other article
of wear. They appear to knit by instinct
an hereditary gift. Their heavy loads
and somewhat difficult progress in no way
seem to interfere with the flying needles.
These never arrest their mo'tion ae their
owners for a moment raise their heads as
you pass and wish you od-day or. it
may be turn round to look after the
ranger or the gunno dou't the gun
A Poetic License,
Says the Chicago Tribune: He was a
tall, square man, with a sharp, sunburned
nose and unshaven face. He wore a chip
hat, well sweated through in front, with a
rim turned down all around, and a dark,
narrow bit of braid for a band. His but
ternut pants were neatly tucked into uis
cowhide boots, and the thumbs of his
bronzed hands were thrust into the arm
holes of his vest. He entered the
moyor's office with the air of a man of
business, and, marching up to his Honor,
'*Be you the mayor?"
"Yes I have lhat honor."
"Well, I want a license for my daugh
ter, Maria Jane."
"Ah I see your dauqhter is about to
get married, and you wish to procure a
marriage license. We do not isEue those
papers here. You mubt go over on (he
North Side of the County Building."
"No, 'Squire, }ou are mistakenas
much mistaken as if you had burnt your
last shirt or had accidentally got into the
wrong pew in meeting, but Maria Jane
doesn't want a licence to get married, not
by any meansnot by more than conoid
erable. She is a darned smart girl, if she
is my daughter, and it' I do ay it which
I hadn't ought to. She has been keepin'
school and boaiding round up in the
persimmon district and writing verses for
the Summertield Weekly Bugle. She
thinks now of givin' up teachin' and de
votin' her hull time to literary pursoots
and, 'Squire, as I'm a lav/ abidin' man
and loyal to the corethiee of my boys
went clean through to the sea with Sher
man'Squire, and 1 want to do the busi
ness for the girl on the square, and so I
called to take out a poetic license for
Maria Jane. You see, Will Monison,
who has been to college, toid Maria that
any 'od must have a license before he
writ much poetry."
Here the mayor's face turned very red,
as if suffering from some intense internal
emotion, and it was observed that his
eyes were suffused with tears. His sec
retary suddenly approached the window
and gazed abstractedly out upon the trees
in the tubs, whose emerald branches were
gracefully swaying in the summer breeze
in front of the saloons across the way.
I he framer fixed his curious eyes upon
the mayor for a moment, who finally
sufficiently recovered himself to say:
My dear sir, your daughter needs no
license to write poetry. She can write
as much as ever she pleases, and it will
be all right."
"Won't it be agin the law to do it with
out a 'icense?" inquired, the man. She
has heard that Byron and Mrs. Hemans
used a good many poetic licenses in their
wntin's, and she thought she'd better do
as the rest of 'em did. But if it's all right
without, it's probably *rin' to the free
dom of our institutions and sich like."
"Exactly," said the mayor.
And the satisfied rustic walked out of
the office picking his teeth with a straw.
Lemon Syrup squeeze the lemmons
strain the juice carefully least pulp
should remain to one pint of juice add
two pounds of sugar set it away till
completely dissolved, stirring it occas
sioaally then bottle it. One or twu tea
spoonfuls of this syrup stirred into a
glass of water will make delightful