Newspaper Page Text
"When Letty had scarce pass'd cer third glad
And her joung artless words began to flow,
One day we gave the child a color'd sphere
Of the wide earth, that she might mark and
By tint and outline all its sen and land.
She patted all the world old empires peep'd
Between her baby fingers her soft hand
Was welcome at all frontiers-, how she leap'd
And laughed arid prattled in her pride of bliss!
But when we turned her sweet, unlearned eye
On our own ifcle, she raised a joyous cry,
'O yes! I see it,Letty's home is there!'
And while she hid all England with a kiss,
Bright over Europe fell her golden hair."
Rev. Claries Tennyson Tvirner.
WHAT BECAME OF THE POCKET
Have you any toy trumpets?" a3ked
old Farmei Campbell of the talkative
tin-peddler whose red cart with its house
keeper-tempting array of brooms, mops,
scrubbing brushes, pails, tubs, etc, stood
one sunny spring morning under the
budding mapLes before the larm-house
Lots on 'em, sir red one8, blue ones,
green, yellow and white onesall on 'em
shiny ones. Which will you have?
'AiDt they hansum now?" and he jingled
the attractive baubies before the smiling
old gentleman's face.
"I'll p'ck out these two," he said, tak
ing one in each hand and putting his
hands behind him. "Don't say anythirg
about th'^m yet to Catherine. Perhaps
when she settles up for her rags there'll
be enough coming to pay tor them
There, she's coming out with another
"We've been making rugs," explained
Catherine, a plump, good-looking young
woman ot thirty, running briskly down
the walk with a huge bundle in her arms,
"that's how we happen to have so many
colored rags to-day."
"Here's another little wad," cried
Mother Campbell, very much out ol
breath, hurrying along after her daugh
ter. "I don't want any leavings IOT
moths to congregate in."
I declare!'' ejaculated her husband
in dismy. I declare! that is my sheep's
gray vest. I shan't have a rag left to
put on, and shall be driven to wearing
my go-to-meetin' suit every day.
Catherine had been diving her shining
brown head and plump shoulders into
the cart, bringing to light sundry pans,
cups, measure and skimmers, while the
artful peddler had beguiled her mother
into purchasing a pair ot sparkling glass
pitchers. As the accounts were being
balanced the old gentleman laughingly
held up the blue and the green trumpets
to be enumerated, while trom a branch of
the tree above their heads the tame crow,
Jetty, laughed, "Ha, ha, ha," to call their
attention to the red trumpet which he had
stolen from the cart.
"Father, you don't want that trumpet
more'n the crow does! Come down wifi
that, you black rogue!'' scolded
"I promised the twins when I was up
to Dolly Jones' to have a tootmaker on
hand for each of them when they came
down in May," said the old man decided
ly, "and grandpa mustn't break his word
to the little fellows."
"Those boys are too old for trupets,"
put-in Mrs. Campbeil. "They'll drive
me distracted with their noise."
"I hope they'll never be to old too en
joy toys and iun,' said the old gentleman,
roguishly blowing a Dlast upon each ol
the trumpets at the same time. "I guess
I will have one for jnyself, too, and as for
he twins, they won't be seven till June,"
"They'll be eight," said his wife.
"IV got it down on a paper in my
pocket-book," replied the old gentleman,
feeling first in one pocket and then in
another, "and I'll pay money for the
trumpets, Jetty's and ail. Catherine,
fetch my pocket-book from the mantle
shelf in the bedroom chamber," he called
after his daughter, who was hurrying to
ward the house.
"It isn't there, she replied, as she re
turned presently with a bag of dried ap
ples, "and I didn't stop to look it up, be
cause there will be enough coming
from these to pay for the trnmpets."
"I want to make father some ginger
snaps after Cousin Ruth's receipt and I
can't find the paper on which it is writ
ten down," remarked Mrs Campbell next
morning, as, busy about the Saturday's,
baking, she bustled around looking over
boxes, baskets, and drawers.
"It is in my pocket-book,'' said hei
husband, glancing up from his news pa
per, "I saw it lying on the hanging ta
ble the last time you made snaps and I
reckoned it might get mislaid and so you
have an excuse for not making me any
for a long spell. So I took possession of
it," and he began to feel first in on? pock
et and then in the other. "I declare,'' he
ejaculated, presently, "I havn't seen that
pocket-book, as I remember, since I
looked for it when the peddler was here
"Make ginger-drops with cuirantsin
them to-day. mother," suggested Cather
ine, "I can't take my hands out of the
pound cake to look that pocket-book
"Havn't you wound the clock, father?'
asked Mrs. Cambell, as she was tying her
bonnet stiings in a square bow under her
double-chin, prepartory to starting for
"No," said he, but was calculating to
just do so before I started, so as to be
sure and take the money tor the mission
ary-book when I took the clock-key.
Catherine, bring me my pocket-book
from the mantle-shelf in the bed room
"It isn't here," replied his daughter
who was rastlina around in her best black
silk dress. "Did you find it yesterday?
If you did, I didn't hear anything about
it, and it slipped my mind."
"Quha, quha," laughed Jetty, from the
tall lilac-bush in front of the bed-room
widow, and, glancing out, they saw that
he had the green trumpet in his moutl.
"He stole that from the mantle in your
room, and why shouldn't he have
stolen the pocket-book as WPII? He picks
up every small bright colored object
that attracts his attention. I, for one,
don't believe in harboring a thiet in the
house," and Miss Catherine turned the
cat outdoors, shut the damper of the
stove and declared everything to be ready
*'J never thought it a good plan to car
ry that clock key in your pocket-book,"
said Catherina, as they jogged along to
"I like to have things where I know
they are safe," said her father.
"Well, you missed your finger for
once," spoke up his wife.
"By no means," replied the fiae old
gentleman, good-naturedly, "the key with
the rest of the missing articles is in the
cketbook and that is mislaid by no
fault of mine, as you will be willing to
admit when it turns up."
Bat it didn't turn up, even after dinner,
when they searched until sundown. Then,
not wishing to have the old eight-day
clock run down, Catherine had the horse
harnessed into the chaise, and drDve over
to the east part of the town to the Russell
homestead, where there was an old family
clock exactly like theirs, and borrowed
the key. In talking the matter over with
Mrs. Russell, Catherine remembered that
a tramp had called and had eaten a bowl
of bread and milk by the kitchen fire the
very morning before the pocket-book was
missed. That brought up the prolific
subject of tramps and theives, and Mr.
Russell mentioned that a n-idow named
Waite, with two children, a son and a
daughter, from down the river somewhere,
had bought and moved on to the Bascomb
place that when he heard of it he couldn't
help remembering that last year when he
was down to the shiretown on a jury a
widow woman named Waite was sent to
jail for three months lor stealing, and
that Mrs. Russell remarked that she didn't
intend to say anything about it to any
body, but that she had made up her mind
that she shouldn't call on her new
Tie next day, when Catherine was up
to her elbows in suds, gentlemanly
appearing youth who said his family had
just purchased the Biscomb place, came
to the door, having heard that Mr. Camp
bell was Prudential School Committee, to
see if he could secure a situation as
teacher for his sister. Catherine listened
no further, but answered him curtly
without referring him to her father, and
shut the door in his face.
She mentioned the incident to Mrs.
Russell atter dinner when she drove
orer to return the clock key. She add
ed, thoughtfully, that he looked to her
like the fellow to whom she gave fhe
bred and milk the day oefore the pocket
book was missed.
Mrs. Russell asked how much money
there was in it, and, being told, said she
had heard that they ptid one-third down
for their place, although only one-fourth
had been required.
When Catherine returned home she
found that her half-brother, James, had
driven over from his adjoining farm to
soe about a note which his father held
against some one in the next town,
which he thought ought to be renewed.
It won't outlaw for a year," said
"Let me see," said his son, and then,
ot course, Catherine let out the story.
"Was it your old sheepskin wallet,
"Oh, o, it was the pretty red morocco
one with twenty different compartments
that the twins gave me last Christmas.
"You had it in your hand the last time
I was here, and showed me the receipted
bill for three sets of CyclopediasCath
erine's set, James' set and my set Let
me see that was Thursday. There was
a tramp eating bread and milk in the
kitchen, a rough-looking fellow. I
thought it injudicious to let him enter
the house, and spoke to wife about it
when I got home. Don't you remember
it? Atter he went away mother said
father looked like a tramp in that old
sheep's gray suit."
There, those clothes are in that rug,"
put in Catherine triumphantly, pointing
to an immense br tided mat on which
she was at work. "Father left them off
to have them mended one day, the tin
peddler came along, and while father
was out talking with him, mother and I
stripped what was good for carpets out of
them and bundled up the rest for rags
in a hurry, I tell you."
I am glad of it," said her half broth
er, laughing heartily, "but I must not be
lingering here. Father, can I t?ke your
side-hill plow for a few days?"
"I presume it is in that missing pock
et book," observed Catherine facetiously,
and the tame crow laughed, "quha,
quha, quha," as he alighted outside the
window with Mrs. Campbell's scarlet
crochet knitting-bag in his bill, which
he immediately carried across the yard
and threw jnto the well.
The four persons looked at each other
and nodded knowingly. "We will send
for Ed Hotton immediately to come and
clean out the well," said the mother.
That would be impracticable while
the watei is so deep," said James, "but
at high noon you can reflect the bottom
the well in a looking-glass, and see
what is there."
The experiment was tried, and there
cul be seen on the clear, gravelly bot
tom of the well sundry cups, mugs, nails,
small tools and pieces of crockery, a
gieen frog, and a big, gpeckled trout, but
no pocket book. The knitting-bag
cough en the bucket, aad was saved, to
Mrs. Campbell's great relief.
Hardly a day passed but that some
thing wa wanted, which, when inquired
for, was found to have been safely stowed
away in that capacious pocket-book.
Mrs. Campbell settled down in tue be
lief that James, who was the father's son
by piior marriage and no favorite of hers,
had thought it no harm to appropriate
his fathers, property to his own uses.
Miss Catherine had no doubt that the
tramp had picked it up soon after her fa
ther had thoughtlessly laid it down, and
she was sure that the beergar and the
young Waite were one and"the same per
Mr. Campbell thought that Jetty was
the rogue, and spent a great deal of time
watching the singular pranks and evolu
tions of the interesting bird.
When the twins came for their prom
ised visit Aunt Catherine made a party,
inviting all the boys and girls in the
neighborhood, and offering a prize
of a gold dollar strung on a blue
ribbon to the one who should find the
pocket-book. The premises were thor
oughly explored, the garden plot was
raked over, every maple, apple and cher
ry tree was climbed, and searched for
knot holes, but although a great many
squirre's, birds, rats and mice nests were
brought to light, the pocket-book, to
grandpa's great disappointment, did not
Every Sunday night during the sum
mer Catherine "drove over to Esq. Rus
sell's to borrow the clock key, and some
time during the week when she had time,
she carried it home.
When, in the fall, the weather grew
chilly, bachelor Ed. Russell took to driv
ing over to Farmer Campbell's to wind
the tall clcck, and tne family all agreed
in ca'ling him an uncommonly accomo
dating young man.
As this was kept up steadily all winter,
peeple would have set the young folks
down as lovers had not every one known
about the missing clock key
It had come to be generally understood
that young Waite was the thief, and not
call was made upon the comers for a
whole year in that highly proper Chris
One balmy morning the following
spring Miss Catherine,chancing to glance
UD from the rug which she was braiding
and sewing for a present to Mrs Russell,
saw a pretty young girl in a plain black
alpaca suit coming through the gate.
"There's that Waite girl," ejaculated
Catherine to her mother, "I wonder what
she means by calling here? I presume
it's about the school again, but we don't
wan't our neighborhood children under
such influence. I shan't ask her in."
Catherine did not have the opportu
nity, for her father,with Jetty perched on
his shoulder, walked slowly down the
gravel walk, shook the girl's hand in his
habitual gentle, cordial way: stood and
talked with her a minute or two, and
then in an excited manner waited upon
her to the bouse.
"Hallo!" here's my pocket-book!" cried
he jubiianily, as he threw the door wide
open. This young lady brought it. My
wife and daughter will be glad to know
you. Sit down in this rocking-chair
you must be tired aftr your long walk.''
Miss Catherine prided herself upon her
sharpness. She thought now, as she set
her head a little more primly on one side,
"Ah, that self-assured young Waite and
that miserable tramp were identical, as I
have always supposed. We ought to have
had him arrested at the time, as Mrs.
'This is whe.-e I found it,*' said the girl,
timidly, pulling a little bundle ol old
sheep's gray flannel out of her pocket.
"Hallo I The back and lining of my
old gray vest," said the old gentleman,
skipping around like a boy. "It looks
like an old friend. There, mother! who
was the rogue? It wasn't me, and it
wasn't Jetty, nor the poor hungry, for
"I found it in this inside pocket,"
went on the girl, "and this little roll was
twisted up and tucked in on top of a
sack of rags that was given me to sort
and cut in the rag-shop where I have
been at work, because couldn't get a sit
uation to teach. I haven't opened it, be
cause it wasn't necessary when I saw
your name in gold letters on the out-
"Everything is all right," said the old
man. "The note runs out just as I said,
next week. The twins will be seven, and
it does take two cups of molasses for the
snaps. I guess you will oegin to tLink
I know something, after all. The money
comes just when I need it, and is just the
same as a sift. Sit down, my dear, you
are not rested, I am sure."
Catherine told Mrs. Russell, afterward,
that she felt as cheap as rags,but she came
forward and took off the girl's things and
kept her to supper, and betore that meal
was over they were all so charmed with
her that Miss Catherine carried her home
in the chaise and drove around by the
residence of the newly elected prudential
committee, and secured the school for the
The next day Miss Catherine took Mrs.
Russel over to call, and they carried the
young lady, whose name after all was not
Waite, but Wya+, a gift of a twenty
dollar gold piece irom Mr. Campbell.
At the wedding of Miss Catherine and
bachelor Ed Rusell, which came off at
ft idBummer, the Wyat brother and sister
were among the bridesmaids and grooms
men. Everybody, old and young, even
to the jolly tin-peddler were bidden to
the wedding. Grandpa told the story of
the lost pocket-v
ook, and said that it had
turned out well, for he bad given
Catherine over as an old maid, and she
would have been had she not been obilged
to keep the old clock from running down.
The twins had new trumpets bought by
grandpa for the occasion, and Jetty
in his best suit of black stood in the lilac
bush in front of an open window, and all
through the ceremony laughed, "quaha,
quaha, quaha."-Chicago Standard
Outward or Homeward.
Still are the ships that in haven ride,
Waiti jg fair winds or turn of the tide
Nothing they fret though they do not get
Out on the glorious ocean wide.
O wild hearts,that yearn to be free,
Look, and learn from the ships of the sea!
Bravely the ship, in the tempest to sed,
Buffet the waves till the sea be crossed
Not in the despair of the haven fair,
Though winds blow backward, and leagues be
0 weary hearts that yearn for sleep,
.i.ook, and learn from the shipson deep!
Didn't Buy the Mule.
und on Ninth Street, in fron' of the
Bazaar, he was showing the man the bay
mule that he was working in a team with
the old gray.
"You warrant him sound, and perfect
ly kind and gemle?" the man said.
"Precisely," said the farmer John.
"My wife and children drive him, and
he is a perfect pet. Comes into the house
like a dog."
"Easy to shoe?" asked the man.
"Well I guess so. Faet is, I never had
him shod. I don't believe in it he works
better without it." said farmer John.
"How does he act when you put the
crupper on?" asked the man!'
Farmer John hesitated. "Well, pret
ty good, I guess," he said "fact is I never
put it on."
"How does it get on?" asked the man
"who does put it on?"
"Well, I kind of don't know," said farm
er John "fact is, he had the harness on
when I got him, an' it fit him so well, an'
he seemed to be so kind o' contented in
it, like, that I sort of never took it offn
"And how long have you had him?"
asked the man.
Farmer John chewed a straw very med
itatively, r* *J. Jr'uV,
"Well," he said, "not to exceed more'n
two years, mebbe."
And the man backed a little further
away, and said he would "sort of look
round a little further before he bought,
like." And farmer John never saw him
again, not even unto this day.
BY E. B. ROBINSON.
What makes the birds so merrfy
What makes so ripe the cherry
It is the sun that comes along
To mellow fruit and mellow song
This makes the birds so meiry,
This mnkes so ripe the cherry.
What warms the blood that rushes
To bring the tint that blushes?
It is the sun imparting heat
To rosy lips to make them sweet.
This warms the blood that rushes
To bring the tint that blushes.
Why are the flowers growing,
With odors overflowing?
Because the sun each blossom loves
More than the honey-bee that roves.
For this the flowers are growing,
With odors overflowing.
CHASED BY THE FLRE.
In the coal regions of Pennsylvania there
are railroads called "gravity roads," over
which long trains run without the aid of
The tracks are laid on a gentle incline,
till they come to steep ascending planes,
where stationary engines are placed, either at
the head or foot of the skpe. Here strong
iron ropes are attached to the cars, drawing
them to the top of the hills, when they again
can run down on the other side, controlled
only by brakemen, till other elevations are
These roads have two tracks, not parallel,
but sometimes a mile or two apart. The one
on which the loaded car passes is called the
"heavy," and the other, where the empty cars
return, the "light track." They are built
along the sides of the mountain sumits, giv
ing the eye a grand sweep over board and beau
tiful landscapes. Then, gently descending,
they follow the mountain curves, sometimes
haningg over deep ravines, and sometimes
dashing through dense forests, where the
trees form an unbroken shade over the track.
In the Spring of 1875, John Ward, the hero
of this etory,was head brakemanon one of the
coal trains. During- that Spring, this part of
the country was visited by an unsual drouth.
Day after day the sun lose clear, and rar its
course over a cloudless sky. But at length a
veil gathered over the landscape, through
which the sun shone only like a dull red disk.
The people said that fore -t fires were raging
in the lumber districts north.
Near the close of day in the month of May,
Ward and two other brakemen, in charge of
an empty train, noticed a cloud of smoke at
the head of the plane next above them. As
they ran down to the engine-house, which
was here at the foot of the slope, they inquir
ed if the woods along the track were on hre.
The engineer replied that they were, but he
thought thev could shoot bv without dan
The men resolved to try. But when they
reached the top of the plane, they saw they
had no time to lose. The fire was rushing
towards them, and they could feel its hot
breath. Loosening the brakes, they sped down
the track with covered faces and suspended
But a few moments sufficed to carry them
out of danger, as they supposed. The road
then wound round a curve of two miles
through a dense pine forest.
Joah and Dan McChing, ward's two com
panions, (ongratulated themselves on heir
escape but Ward felt anxious lest this was
but the beginning: of their troubles. His
home was in the midst f the woods some
miles farther down and for the first time he
realized what a terrible foe Are might be
Scarcely had these thoughts passed through
his miud, when the train rounded the curve,
and theie before them was the fire crossing
They had gone so far dawn the plane that
it was impossible to run the cars back. They
felt that they had better abandon them and re
turn, while there was yet a chance, to the
engine-house at the foot of the slope.
Bat on rounding the eurye again, they saw
to their dismay, that the fire had reached the
track behind them, and wa5 furiously burn
ing on both sides. All chance of retreat was
cut off. But the forest where they stood wa3
cool and green, the undergrowth so luxuriant
and damp that it did not seem possible that
it could burn.
The next moment, however, a burning twig
lodged jn one of the tall trees near them, aud
igniting the pine needles, darted out a tongue
The men now saw that they must push
their way through the fire in front or perish.
With hearts trembling with fear, they shoek
off the brakes, and were about to rush down
the burning track, when a woman started
out from the trees, dragging a littie boy by
the hand, and screamed to them in tones of
''Stop and take us in!"
Josh McCling shouted back: "We can't
possibly," and pointing to a tall tree left
standing in the clearing ahea, against which
cord-wood had been piled, and which was
already in flames. But with a firm hand,
Ward pressed down the brake, and ordered
thp others to do the same, saying:
Would you leave a woman and her child
to be burned like rats in a barn
"Don't yo-i see we must get by that tree
before it tails across the track?" cried Mc
Uling in a rage.
"1 know," replied Ward, sternly "but
they shall go with us, or we'll all perish to
gether. Quick, quick, my woman! we've no
time to lose!"
He dared not leave the front of the train to
help her, for he knew the other men, in their
fright, wouid raise the brakes and desert
She struggled forward, but when almost
up to the cars, she 6tumbled and fell. With
a bound, Ward sprang to her side, lifced her,
and handed her to Josh McCling, who stood
in the rear of the ear. He then cought up the
child, and turned to spring m, but the train
was already moving, Josh, made utterly self
ish by his fear, had raised the brakes.
Ward ran with the energy of desperation,
threw the child into Dan's outstretched arms,
and then caught the last car, where he hung,
unable at tin speed they were moving, with
his utmost strength, to do more than keep
In a few moments they left the green
woods, and passing thiough the blazing
brash on either side, were almost bliudea
and suffocated Auth the smoue and heat,
while burniug tv.igs and brushes fell like a
red-hot shower upon them.
Ward felt his hands blistering, yet he held
fast, and looked up to see if the pine-tree
still standing. As they passed under it, the
flames had caught in the long branches, and
it stood a pyramid of fire. On the cars sped.
Another curve was passed, and they were
again in the midst of a dense green wood.
Dan Me Ching shouted to his brother to
put down the brakes and succeeded in mak
ing him stop the train. The two men then got
out, and ran bfck to piek up Ward, who had
dropped exhausted before the motion entirely
They placed him in the cars, and tr en al
lowed the train to run some dibtance further,
till they felt sure the danger was pas&ed!
Coming to a little stream of water near the
track, they agam stopped the train, and gath
ered around the spring, to wash their burns
and reet a little.
Here Ward reeognized the poor woman he
had saved as Mrs. Stacy, the wife of a wood
chopper, who was employgd supply fuel
for the engine bouse they had just passed.
Her little shanty was just in the path of the
fire. She saw the fire coming, and had time
only to catch her boy and escape to the woods,
where these men had picked her up She had
lost everything, and feared that her husband
had peri&hed in the flames. He had gone off
with his axe in the morning, which wav she
she could not tell.
Ward was filled with anxiety about the
woman and her child. He knew that his two
companions would do nothing for her, and he
must offer her shelter in his own home. But
he had six children and an aged mother to
support and his wife was not one who bore
her burdens ligntly.
But the kind-hearted man invited Mrs. Sta
cey to accompany him home, and lifting the
boy in his arms when they left the cars, he
strode on a head to show her the narrow path.
They passed several houses and approached
a pretty white cottage. With a thrill of joy,
*sisi4fflBa igjj.^, JJ,-^.,^,^
Ward listened to the merry voices of his
In a moment more he opened the door on a
bright family picture. The table was spread
and his children were gathered round it, ex
cept the little twins, who were all ready in
their cribs, while in the midst of them sat the
old grandmother, smilingly placidly at their
Ward gave Mrs Stacey a seat, and placed
theboy on her lap then, after introducing
her to his mother, he asked anxiuslv for his
She was in the kitchen, looking tired and
worried. He saw this, as he began in a low
tone to explain to her who their visitor was,
and her claims upon their hospitality.
But in a loud angry voice she interrupted
him, saying, "Now, Johh that's just like you
taking the food and clothing from your own
family to give to beggars. Here I am slavin'
and worryin' from mornin' to night to ta-:e
care of these children and your old mother,
yet you bring me two more you've picked up,
and expect me to feed and provide for them."
"But, wife, I couldn't leave the poor woman
to perish in the flames, or remain homeless
and supperless this chilly night,"
Mrs. Ward was not a heartless woman. She
was thirfty, and anxious to get ahead, and had
much to try her. It distressed her to find that
manage as economically as she could, she
could hardly keep John out of debt. Just
then she laid it all to her husband's charitv
to otaers. Therefore, seeing only her side of
argument, she said:
1 must you always be saddled with
such people? They see you are easily im
posed upon, and so we have to bear the con
Mrs. Stacey could not help hearing the con
versation. Putting down her child, she
walked to the kitchen door, and opening it,
said, a faltering tone:
"Mrs. Ward, I'm no begger. This morning
I wa in my own home. This afternoon the
fire came, and i had to flee before it. My
houoe and everything in it ^ere burned to
ashes. Mr. Ward saved my life and my boy's
at a risk I don't dare think off. Mav the Lord
reward him for his kindness. He asked me
to his house to pass the night but I'll not
stay where I'm not wanted, nor be the cause
of strife. May the devouring flames never
leave you as homeless and friendless as they
have left me."
These words touched Mrs. Ward. As Mrs
Stacey turned away, she sprang towards her,
and said, earnestly:
"Oh, forgive me! I did not think what you
had endured. You shall stay, and I'll give
you the beast the house affords. Come, let's
all sit down to tea. Then, John you must
tell us everything about the fire and your eb-
She turned pale and trembled as she listen
ed to his account of the fearful risks thev had
"John," asked his old mother,"will the fire
"I think not. It is not speading in this
direction, and I trust we are perfectly safe."
Yet with fear in their hearts, that night, be
fore retiring, John Ward and his wife went
out and climbed a high rock, near the house,
where they could see the danger threatened.
But around them was only the green, dewy
woods, and above, the clear.peaceful starlight
Feeling relieved, they sought the rest both so
The next morning, a messenger came to
the village to say the fire was spreading with
fearful rapidity, and that help was needed to
fight it back.
The men of the village responded to the
call, and all day and nearly all night, in com
pany with the larger force, they fought the
But, fanned by a strong west wind, although
baffled and driven back at one point, like an
unrelenting foe, the fire pushed forward itb
columns in another, and often, befoie the
men were aware, they saw the flanks of the
battle turned, and themselves almost sur
rounded by the flames.
Ward at last became alarmed for the safety
of feis family, and returned home. He found
the greatest excitement prevailing in the
village. he fire had attacked the other side
of the mountain, and they feared it would
sweep ever and come down upon them.
Ward saw that the wind was still carrying
the flames in an opposite direction yet he
told his wife to dress the children in thickest
woolen garments, so they might be prepared
for any emergency. Then, completely ex
haubted, he lay down to rest.
He had slept but a few hours when Mrs.
Stacey came running in, with a report from
the lower houses that the fire was approach
ing from another point. They were in dan
ger of being hemmed in, and must make their
escape at once.
Old Mrs. Ward begged her son to leavi* her,
urging that her life was nearly ended, at best,
and that she would only retard their flight.
But he positively refused, and catching up
the, two children, while his wife took the
twins, they all started to follow the rest of the
inhabitants. Mrs. Stacey had taken the baby
and with her own little bov, was already in
For over a mile the old mother walked, aid
ed as much as possible by her son but of
necessity, their progress was slow. The exer
tion proved too much for her. She sank to
the ground exhausted. Her son assisted her
to rise, and ursred her to make an effort to
keep up a little longer but she begged him
to leave her and save the rest of the family.
The flames were crawling nearer. Thev
could hear the crackling and the crash of the
great trees as they fell. He tried to persuade
the children to run on by hi3 side but terri
fied by the awful scene, they clung screaming
to him, and relused to move. For a time in
hio desperation, he tried te carry them all.'
But the fire was advancing so rapidly, Le
saw that he must abandon his mother, or the
whole family perish. She now earnestly
pleaded with him, for the sake of the little
ones, to put '^er down and flee for his life
She was not afraid to meet death. It would
be but a moment's pang, then heavenly joy
With a groan of agony, he acquiesced, yet
drew her as far as possible out of the direct
line of the tire. Then, clasping her in his
arm&, he cried, "O mother, how can I leave
"Go, go, my son! As you have been faithful
to me, may God deal faithfully with aud
yours. Don't grieve that you left ine."
I am describing an actual occurrence. It
seems almost impossiole that a generous, du
tiful son could leave his aged mother to die
by the cruel torture of the 11 imes, but the
safety of his own children and of hi.-, wife ap
pealed to his heart, and at the moment it
seemed to him better that one should be left
rather than that the wltOle family should perl
Waid started forward, but before passing
out of sight turned for one more look.
His mother was kneeling, with hand-,
clasped aud eyes raised in silent praver. The
approaching flames illumined her pale face
but it was calm and peaceful.
He s!ood like one in a trance till his wife,
who had pushed ahead, besought him to
hasten on. She didn't know which way to go,
for the fire seemed to be everywhere. His
mother also saw his hesitation, and motioned
Ward could hardly endure that last s'ght
He turned desperately away, came rapidly to
his wife's side, and placing the children at her
feet, flung himself into a tree to obtain a more
After a glance round, he sprang down, and
told her there was but one cnance of esca e.
That was to climb to the top of the mountain]
where there were some barren ledges on
which there was nothing to burn.
It wa6 a desperate struggle on the steep
rocks, over fallen trees and through the brush.
But the children had become more accustomed
to the scene and as they got further from the
fire, their courage returned, and their own
practice in mountain climbing aided their
parents. At last they reached the summit in
But it was a sad, exhausted group that
gathered there The little ones cried with
hunger and thirst and on that barren roc
the parents had no means tosatisfy either. All
day long they looked down from their high
perch into what appeared like a gulf of fire.
Now it ran along the ground, now leaped
from tree to tree, then, as if driven by a
tornado, it came in one broad sheet of flame
the roar increasing till in terror the children
covered their eyes and stopped their ears.
The parents also felt as if the awful grand
ure of the sight and sound was more than
they could bear. For they hardly dared hope
that they were safe above it.
From this position they were aroused bv
the oldest boy shouting:
Oh father, the sky is on fire, too!"
Ward looked up and saw a broad flash of
lightning dart out of a dark cloud that was
rising rapidly in the west.
"Thank God!" he cried, "the rain is com
ing at last."
Soon the heavens were overcast. Ths light
ning darted back and forth, heavr thunder
ovehead, the increasing wind finned th
flames below till they raged with redoubled
fury as if seem ng to realize that their power
would soon be gone. Then came the blessed
rain not in gentle showers, but in heavv tor- &
rents, that poured iucessautly on the hissing
steaming forests, till they lay drenched bet
John Ward drew his family close under the
rocks to keep them dry, but caught in his hat
the cool drops to quench their thirst. As the
night wore on and the violence of the storm
passed by, they all found some rest save the
ather, who mourned for his mothet as ho
kept watch over the poor little homeless flock.
Ihe next day dawned clear and beautiful
the air washed pure from blinding smoke and
as soon as they had risen and thanked God
for their escape, they started to make their
way back to the settlements.
It was a tedious, difficult jouraey.
When almost back to the site of their old
home they heard voices approaching. Ward
shouted and was answered by a loud cheer.
In a few moments, a dozen of his old compan
ions gathered round, congratulating him on
their escape, and anxious to hear their story,
lhey had just started in search of them but
as they sasv the wide sweep the fire had taken
their fears for their safety were greater than
John Ward and his wife now found that the
kind acts done for these neighbors in the past
were returning, "after manv days" "like
bread cast upon the waters The men lifted
the children in their arms, and all proceeded
to the homes that had escaped the fire Here
each vied with the other in making them
welcome. Money and clothing had been sent
from larger towns to those whom the fire had
made destitute. Mrs. Ward found her baby
and Mrs. Stacey Bafe and well the latter full
of joy, as she had just received the glad tid
ings of her husband's saft ty.
The burned houses were soon rebuilt, and
out for the dear old mother, whom he had
been so cruelly forced to leave to the flames,
John Ward could, after all, hard'y have been
called a sufferer from the loss that had be
This is not a fancy sketch. The actual facts
of the terrible disaster I have faintlv pictured,
are more harrowing than I could bear to de
scribe. Language cannot adequately depict
the awful scenes that were witnessed in that
terrible fire of 1875 in Northern Pennsylvania,
that destroyed whole villages, and brought
great losses and suffering to scores of families.
On a Sheet of Blank Paper.
O virgin page, untouched, unstained,
Without a line, without a blot.
Thou cream-laid blank-faced mystery
Of untold thoughts, of unsung songs
Who cau foresee thy end, thy lot,
Who tell thy future histoij
Perchance thou art reserved to bear
The record of a lofty mind,
Whose echo shall dt-fy Time's wave
Or in the rubbish basket near
Some cruel hand may bid thee find
Oblivion,and a wicker grave.
Or shall, upon thy vacant face,
Some poet write a stirring ode,
Some wonderous lay, some graceful sonnet?
Or shall Miss Jones' tingeis trace
Some lines to Madame a la Mode
About the color of her bonnet?
Thou mayst some doctor's mandate tear
For horrid drugs or an emetic
Or serve to write an I 0
Some love-sick swain to Dulcinea,
In halting doggerel most pathetie
May send thee as a billet-doux.
Or on thee, haply, shall be wrought
Some picture, to for aye remain,
A masterpiece of tint and line?
Or shall the baser pen and thought
Of Thomas, or of Sarah Jane.
Degrade the to a valentine?
0 empty blank! that only craves
A touch, a word, in paint or rhyme
Thou Bilent monument of shame
On cowards, idlers, fashion's slaves,
On brains that ha\eno thoughts sublime
On hands that cannnot give the fame.
What ill destroyed, what good abused'
So ready thou to cheer or paiD,
So prompt for blessing or for curse
And here, half-conscious, as I mused,
1 took the paper up again,
And scnbbied off this idle verse!
Louis Napoleon was an attractive child
He was mild and intelligent but more
like a girl than a boy. He is a year old
er than I am when we quarreled he used
to bite, not strike. H/j ued to say to me:
ai jamais battue." "iVori," I an
swered, 'mate tu m'as mordue." He was
shy, and has continued to be so. He
hates new faces: in old times he could
not bear to part with a servant, and I
know he has kept Ministers whom he dis
liked and disapproved only because he
did not like the embarrm ot sending them
away. His great pleasures arc riding,
walking, and, above alt, fine scenery. I
remember walking with him and Prince
Napoleon one fine evening n Lansdowne
Hill, near Bath. The view was enchant
ing: he sat down to admire. "Look," he
said, "at Napoleon he does not care a
Urthing for all this. I could sit here for
hours." He employed me some days ago
to make enquiries for him in Geiniany in
connection with his book. Mocquard
wrote me a letter ol thanks, Louis Na
pwleon added to it, in his own hand, these
words: "Cecj me rapelle ies bonles qrfavait
Madame Cornu pour le prisonnier deHam.
Les extreme* se touchent, car les Tuileries
eat encore une prison.'"' When the: Duke
of Reichstadt aud his own brother lived,
he used to reioice that there were two
lives between him and power. What he
would have liked better than empire
would have been to be a ric country gn
ileman in a fine country with nothing to
do but enjoy himself."-Mme Cornu Sen
At Stekesley, Yorkshire, England, lives
a ma I who once assisted in singing the
whole of the 119th Psalm, and this is
how it is said to have happened. The
parson of a church had an invitation to
attend a maniage breakfast, and so made
his sermon very short in order that he
might be punctual. The clerk, however,
objected to this way of passing the Sun
day, and when the time for kinging came
gave out the 119th Psalm. The clergy
nian did not at first notice what was go
ing on and when he did the musicians
were fairly at work and could not be
stopped. The air was never lo3t. The
fiddlers wore out their bows and strings
the flute player blew out his front teeth,
the clarinet never recovered its tone, and
the singers all suffered more or less, but
they kept it up to the bitter end and fin
ished at three o'clock in the afternoon,
after four hours' hard work. Many ot
the congregation went home to dinner,
and returned in the afternoon to the
finish, but the parson won much respect
by sticking to his pulpit to the last, and
at the conclusion of the dismal perform
ance he dismissed the congregation with
out a word.