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BT H. . COLQCITT.
Trt ehfMrwi arc blowinir MMtp-bubble
of many a chancing tint,
Wltti purjilr and yeiiuva and erimaon
Of lin rlimmrr and flint.
TtfJ are beauulul ipherical rainbow.
And aevm to be Uahionrd of raut,
Ot fllT and rjwi and aearirt,
And tr ndtrr amettijat.
ThHr rtonx ar lilctorf-r""''.
Knowing rjutcad an-1 nnMinUin in torn,
Wilh a WraUh of warm tr-topa
And cnH-u of -"""r.T trrn:
Tin y rm lho of eumnn-r unaU,
And bu- of IB morning, too,
Thr ii)lr(-Rry of v-nin.
And Ue morning's rapturou blue.
Thr arp radiant firismi of glory,
And gleam like the purest gems.
Jewels At lor lh- aeltmg
Ol princely diatienia.
But tbey are aa eTaneaornt
As the nun of a tropical mom.
Or the bright unrest of a humming-liiril's breast
A word a flash it is gone I
JOHN ST. GEORGE.
John St. Gkorge must have laughed
when lie found he was dead.
A shocking thing to write? Oh, yes, I
dare say. Hut look you ! SupHse from
the dawn of your earliest intelligence
your whole life had lieeii possessed by a
beautiful aspiration and a golden hoc.
Suppose thai with increasing knowledge
and vears there grew apace in your soul,
until it turned itself around the very roots
of your being, the belief that it was your
mission on t-arth to work out that be.iuti
ful asuication and realize the golden ho.
Well, what then? Would that make
anybody laugh when he found he was
dead? "Tnily, no. But that is not all. I
have read that sometimes the desert trav
eler lifts up his eyes and sees, only a little
way beyond, a glorious lan,lscae of livinjr
greenness, with fountains and streams ot
crrstal water and shade trws. His eye
brigh tens with hope; his parched lips al
ready M-em to lave in the sweet water, lie
lashee anew tlie patient beast that carries
him. and rushes frantically forward. All
day he urges himself across the sands, full
of a hope which grows fainter as the shad
ows lengthen, until at the going down of
the sun the glorious mirage disappears al
together, and the fainting traveler is f;ir
ther away from the sweet- fountains and
the shade trees than lie was in the morn
ing. Supjiose you fix your eye on the golden
hope so far licyond and atwve you.
Through weary years and years you toil
with all your might, and" strain every
nerve to work out your aspiration. You
lalnir like a bond slave, while others stop
sometimes to play ; you are awake arid at
work while others sleep ; you push on
across the hot sands whi'e others stop to
rest, and at last what then? When the
shadows lengthen, and the darkness falls,
and you are too weary ever to work any
more, you are further from the beautiful
aspiration than you were in thedawn ; the
golden hoj' has" vanished, and you can no
longer see it at all, because your eyes are
so blinded by the unwept tears of 'disap
pointment. ' Would you not rejoice to lay
the burden down, and lie away with the
dead ? If there were no life hereaftor,
death would be a blessed rest; if there
were a hereafter, then in the blessed new
life vou might lie free from the weight
which has clogged you here yea, in that
blessed hen-after you might still win the
golden hope which had vanished from
your fiiintingeyes here.
So I say John St. George must have
laughed "when he found he was dead,
lie hadn't laughed much for ten years lie
fore that, poor soul ! So if he wa's ever to
laugh again through the whole course of
his eternity, ic must have been after lie
was dead. Jolly enough he was, too,
when he was a boy, and he alwavs had his
joke with the la-st of them, until afier his
marriage. Then he "settled down."
lie was a musical composer in a humble
way. Nothing great or grand vou know,
like the old masters and those, lie wasn't
even a bit like the modern gentlemen
who write fashionable Italian ojn-ra. He
was only a simple, humble composer of
ballad music and dance waltzes, pretty
enough in their way, and sweet enough",
all of them. Nothing more than that,
though when you listened attentively to
his later songs at times a srrange quiver
would run through the tender, graceful
melody, almost a discord it feemed there,
which "was a faint suggestion of something
inetlalily iowerful and profound, of a
thought struggling to shape itself into
sound ineffably beyond and above the
smooth-giiding ballad notes.
John St. George had his dream, like all
the rest of us, God pity us !
lie was handsome, merry and popular,
and found a good sale for all his music.
Ought to have leen happy, oughtn't he,
according to all human judgment? So he
was, hut we are laying bare the secret
thoughts of the young man's soul, now.
I le was happy enough in tlie enjoyment of
tiie present good ; but happier still in the
thought of the future which should be
tietter the thought of the song which he
should one day write. That was the
dream of John St. George. He had a friend
who was a poet, a fair-haired enthusiast
that never wrote verses wherein trees
rhymed with breeze. In his confidential
moments John St. George said to the poet
"Write me the words of my song!
The aneier.t Orphic legend is always in my
mind, Eugene. Apollo himself gave Or
pheus a golden lyre, and taught him to
play it. Therefore the singer moved
through the forests and enchanted wild
ln-asts ; the good ship Argo heard him and
glided softly down into the sea;
the moving rocks which would have
crushed the ship heard his enehanted lyre,
and were fixed in their places, and the
ship moved 011 in safety: next the
sleepless 1'wlchian dragon which guarded
the golden fleece heard the music of the
divine singer, and was soothed to slumber.
O, Kugene! Nobody knows it, but some
day 1 shall write a song. When I have
lived enough and learned enough. My
song shall draw tears from ladies' eyes,
ami make world-hardened men re-iive,
while they hear it, the chivalrous and ten
der dreams of their youth. My song shall
lie a song of everlasting youth. Children
shall hear it and laugh; old people shall
listen and weep, liecause of all the remem
brances of the sweet, vanished time which
it rcv-alls; and it shall enchant all the
world into leing young again, with the
noblest part of youth. That shall be my
song. Kugene, and you are to wrile the
words of it.'
" Now, shaking of that Orphic legend."
said Kugene, " you've forgotten the end
ing of it. haven't you? Orpheus treated
with contempt tbe'Thraeian women, who
were devours of Bacchus; and for revenge
one day, in the midst of a wild orgy, these
craz Bacchanalian creatures laid hold on
the divine singer and tore h'm all to pieces.
To be sure, the muses collected the frag
mentsofhim ami buried thein at the foot
of Olympus, and the nightingale sang
lovingly over his grave, but that was only
poor consolation for being torn limb from
limb by a pack of frenzied lady drunkards.
Notice what the interpretation thereof is.
Orpheus, the disciple of Apollo, represents
I'.'tre intellect; the cross, crazy Bacchantes
are thttm're pleasures of the" senses. In
tellect is torn to pieces and destroved by
the senses at last. Beware of the ending,
"FoMe-roI !" said John St. George.
St. George was a wonderful performer
on the piano, and a good singer besides.
He belonged to the s;t. Ca ciliau Musical
Society. One afternoon some members ot
the society thouglft it would 1h a tine
thing to run up to the pretty little neigh
boring city of X and serenade some ot
their acquaintances the family of the
Mayor of the town among the rest. The
Mayor's daughter was the handsomest
young lady in the State, people said. John
St. George went with the other ywung
men, not to serenade the Mayor's daugh
ter particularly, because he had never seen
her. Moreover, he did not care especially
for handsome voung ladies. But John
St. George was the liest and rarest of so
cial spirits, so the young men begged him
to go with them.
They spun merrily along in the train to
ward X.. laughing, joking and humming
the Kirs wherewith they were to enchant
the X."a:is. Suddenly St. George leaned
forward to the next Scat and Very carefully
extricated sometliing which had cauglit
uinler the ilge of a brass-headed nuil in
the back of the seat. He lid J it up
triumphantly between the thumb uud fin
ger. "By Jove: itllows, Wk what I Lave
It waThe. tip of an oiarfefcjfliW froa
had been a black Thrm.loi".KUiery and
waving, damuly tipiicd with orange. A
faint fine perfume seemed to linger around
it. The young man held it tip to view a
moment," and then deposited it solemnly in
his vest KR'ket.
" There, sanl John M. ucorge, - w nen
I find the girl who lost it that's my
wile." , , .
The young men laughed.
" Mav fx- die's black," said one. "May
lie she's married already," said another.
" May be she won't have you," suggested
" You'll see," replied St. George.
At X they h it the train and walked
through the street. A large, pretentious
lookiiigdwelling attracted their attention.
St. Ge.org had occasion to remember it
well years alter that. It was a most re
markable lixiking mansion, particularly in
the laying on of colors. It was painted a
vivid yellow, to begin. The cornice was
a most brilliant red, the window-shutters
were bright grass green, the wiling of the
veranda about the house was sky-blue, and
all the columns were glaring white.
John St. George stood stock still at the
sight of it, and laughed immoderately, as
ill-bred young men will do in a strange
".I think that fellow "had better haul the
rainbow down and tack it up on his house
at once," said he. ' :
Kugene Arnot poked him in the ribs.
" Hold your tongue, men. His Honor the
St. George laughed again. " His Honor
lias an eye," he said. ' ' '
But the time vame -when John St.
George thought that mi bow-colored res
idence the most charming mansion in the
Some ot the serenading party had the
honor to be friends in the family of his
Honor the Mayor. 'J'hey ; caUod to pay
their respects to his Honor's family, and
took John St. George with them. His
Honor's carriage stood at the door as they
caine up. and a most beautiful young
lady was just stepping gracefully out of
it. ' Eugene Arnot nudged St. George's el
bow. " His Honor's daughter," he whispered.
His Honor's daughter returned the salu
tation of the little party like a queen, and
bowud to St. George, sweet, stately and
lady-like. She was pleased and flattered
to meet the handsome young composer.
St. George, with his artist eye and intu
itions, thought he had never seen so beau
tiful a woman, whose manner at the same
time was so perli-ct. She turned to lead
the way gracefully into the house. St.
George followed "her with hi admiring
eye. Kugene Arnot gave a little start, and
nudged St. George again.
"Look at the feather in her hat," he
She turned her graceful neck at that mo
ment so that the rich, waving plume of her
dainty hat came full into view.'' It was a
black jihime, faintly shot through with
glcamingorange, and a little of the tip of
it was gone. St. George blushed scarlet,
and hung his head like a sheepish school
llis Honor's daughter was a beauty of
the magnificent sort, like Queen Zeuobia
or some of those old ones. She was a pale
brunette, with a beautiful hand, a large,
gorgeous creature, with great.slow, brown,
liquid eyes, like ox-eyed Juno. Her name
was Margaret, and she had sense enough
to write it so. She wouldn't babyize her
self to the extent ot making an vt out of
She charmed the artistie intuitions of the
soul of John St. George. But the father
and mother of this gorgeous, queenly wo
man made a singular impression upon
him, he remembered, afterward. His
Honor, the Mayor, was a puHV parvenu.
one of the " new rich," as the French sav.
You might have known that from the
trees around his great, rainbow-colored
house. Thy were the merest saplings,
no thicker than your thumb, some of
them. That is how it is always. Your
" new rich." no matter how rich he is,
never has a comfortable, cosy old house,
with beautiful, great old trees, with heir
looms of the human race for centuries.
Not he ! Your " new rich" selects a bare,
bald spot, and presently builds himself a
costly, bald-headed house, without a tree
or a vine around it. Then' he sods the
ugly, yellow dirt over the top, and brings
wagon-loads of little slim saplings and tries
to coax them to grow and adorn the bare
spot and the splendid bald-headed house,
and not an angel from heaven could hin
der the place from having an air of raw
ness and newness, and proclaiming from
the housetops that it is the abode of a new
rich. What makes the new rich always
build his home in that manner? I don't
But that was what his Honor the Mayor
did, and tliat was what his Honor the
Mayor was. Her Honor the Mayoress
was something different. She was the
living incarnation of Yankee "drive."
There are jH'ople whose whole physiogo
my reminds you invariably of some inan
imate object. Her Honor tho Mayoress
was like a pair of tailor's big -sliears. hard,
ugly and sharp. And for her every-day
dress she usually wore a black gown with
white polka dots" in it, like so many awful
white eves, everlastingly staring you out
of countenance. But th beautiful daugh
ter was wholly charming to John St.
George, and she strmed fully as much
pleased with him.
Was it a match ? Was it love at first
sight? Iid the course of true love run
smooth? Softly, softly, and one at a tune.
To tell the truth, John St. George had
never loved any woman half as much
as he lovtd tlie ideal of his wonder
ful unwritten song. I think he had
dreams so much about that that he had
never given much thought to young la
dies. His eye wascharmcd with the sight
of Margaret as it would have been with a
pale, gorgeous lily, but 1 am sure no sweet
dream of her ever nestled in his heart.
Tlie sweet dream of his unwritten song
nestled there. A spell was over him,
though. To tell the truth, equally on the
other side, fair Margaret had made up her
mind to make a conquest of John St.
George, and to marry him. Women will
do the like, in fact, I've known it happen
myself. So a spell, which- ho could not
break, wnx-throwii over John St. George.
At last Kugene Arnot said; , .
" You're in love with his Honor's
" No. no !" he replied; " I"m only in
love with a dream the dream of my un
written song. I'm going to Italy, Kugene.
" Theu I think I'd start to-morrow if I
were you," answered Eugene. lrily.. ,
When he came to tbink it over, lie him
self concluded Eugene's adrift was good,
lie made his preparations and, bade adieu to
his friends. He put oIl'sAvbig farewell to
Margaret till tlie last. Just lielbre he was
ready to sail he visited hi Honor's daugh
ter, and told her "he was going away to
Italy to study in the native land of the old
masters. Then presently he stood, hat in
hand, making hi adimx. -
" 1 thank you for all the "pleasure your
friendship has been to me, and, when 1
am over the sea "
She turned her head away' quickly.
Was it a sob which shook the" stately
throat? He laid down his hat and took
the beautiful hand in his own. A tear fell
on the hand which he extended. Marga
ret was crying. A look of intense pain
and trouble flitted across his face.
' If I have caused vou a moment's grief
or sorrow. Miss Margaret," he said, "I
can never forgive myself."
She shook away from his clasp anj cov.
cred her face with both hands, and tears
rolled down her lovely fingers. He sat
down beside her and gently drew away tht-4
lovely lingers, and it was all over wi; til
him. He kissed the tear-stauied cheek
sofilv; and said :
" 1 nevr thought you cared for nie, I
Miss Margaret it I niihtveniure to hope,
that I coulj be-be.ide yoti always " I
.JPiiA 3 as how shu brougljt iowii Lit i
game. " . . . -- ' " i
JoTin St, George went ont through tlie !
doors of the rainbow mansion a betrothed j
man, and saying to himself already, half-1
regretfully we may as well tell the truth,
you know that now he had two dreAms
instead of one. His fate was his own fault
after that, do you say? and he was a fool
for being weak enough to let her trap
him? Oh! yes ; of course. But I guess
we are all fools, more or less.
Next time "society " saw his Honor's
daughter a splendid diamond engagement
rins: shone upon her beautiful hand, and
John St. George wasn't going to Italy
right away. In due time there was a
graud wedding in the rainbow mansion.
I wih we might close here, and daresay
you do, too. But the story which I start
ed to tell you is not yet ended. The grand
wedding "is only the beginning of that
His Honor's daughter thought she had
secured a rich man. She was mistaken.
She had secured a tender, chivalrous, man
ly husband, ready to lay down his life for
her ; a gifted husband, too, he was; more
than she ever knew, or cared to know, be
cause, like Kosamond,in " Middlemarch,"
she measured a man's genius by the money
he gained ; but he was not a rich husband.
For that crime, when she discovered it, his
Honor's daughter never forgave John St.
It shortly became manifest to the con
scigusness of John St. George that he must
give up Italy and study, for the present,
and work for his" wife. A tine sort of man
he would be, truly, who couldn't and
wouldn't maintain his wife comfortably.
John St. George was more than willing to
bestow on Ins Honor's daughter every
possible comfort and luxury. So he
chi-erfully gave up one of his two dreams
for the tiine, and devoted himself exclus
ively to the other equally beautiful dream.
He went to work manfully in the old
tracks, pouring out tender, graceful bal
lads, dreamy waltzes, and brisk, sparkling
polkas, with a facility and rapidity which
" St. George's marriage has made a man
of him," said a brisk merchant to Engene
Arnot. "He is ten times as industrious as
he used to be."
But somehow it didn't seem to strike
Kugene in the same way. He said noth
ing ; but only gave a thoughtful, half-sorrowful
shake of the head. 1 wonder if he
remembered reading of the Orphic legend.
I wonder if John St. George ever reinem
lered it as the years went on, and the gold
en shores of Italy receded farther and
M r. and Mrs. St. George kept house, or
as Eugene Arnot once said :
" Mr. St. George keeps fiouse, and Mrs.
St. George lives with him."
"I never knew anything about seeing
after a house," said his Honor's daughter,
"and surely you don't expect me to learn
now, do you?"
" No, my dear, surely not it you don't
wish to," said St. George, very quietly.
Accoidingly. after that, John Sr. George
ordered the "dinners, hired the servants
and discharged thein, and did tlie market
ing himself. Mrs. St. George arrayed her
self in magnificent toilet, and visited her
friends, and made long trips of travel, and
wherever she went his Honor's daughter
va the admired of men and women. And
St. George? Was at home in a shabby
coat and trousers, perplexing his soul in
a desperate attempt to keep the house to
gether and make both ends meet, and
grinding out waltzes and polkas more dis
tractedly than ever. John St. George was
more "industrious" than ever, lie had
never dreamed a wife was so expensive an
article of furniture.
" We must have a new carriage and a
pair of horses, instead of a single one,"
said his wife one day.
" But, my dear, I can't aflord it," said
"Aflord ! there it is again 1 Y"ou've said
that wretched word two or three times,
lately. I wonder what you married me
John St. George smote his forehead.
" God knows I've wondered that myself a
hundred times," he said to himself.
"Why couldn't you teach music?"
grumbled his wife, "' if you must work
like anv common man ? "
" So I will, Margaret. Y'ou shall have
your carriage," replied St. George.
People wondered when he began to re
ceive music pupils. But the undertaking
prospered, and his Honor's daughter was
more magnificent than ever. A great
change came over St. George, though.
When he went out to the sidewalk some
times, to accompany his queenly, splendid
wife to her carriage door, those who did
not know might easily have mistaken the
pale, weary, shabbily-dressed, withered
little man for a sely, consumptive foot
man of his Honor's daughter, only that
the footman was ever so much better
dressed. The change in St. George be
came unspeakably painful to Eugene Ar
not, and a few of the friends of other days.
" How about Italy and the wonderful
unwritten song?" asked Eugene one day.
Sc. George tried to smile, but the smile
died in a mournful sigh. "I've not for
gotten it yet, but sometimes I'm afraid
now I'll never write it. Eugene, I don't
know why it is, but my life is a failure."
" I know why it is," muttered Eugene
Arnot ; " confound women ! "
"Hush:" said St. George, with calm
dignity. "In this world every one must
give a" part of hi life for the life and hap
piness ot others, and sometimes the part
he is forced to give out of his life is the
In-st liart. In another world 1 hope we
shall all have lielter sense. When I die I
want you to have them chant over my
grave "the melody of the song which was
never written."- -
Eugene Arnot looked at the other keen
ly. " What melancholy nonsense is this ?''
he exclaimed. " Are you losing your
senses, st. George "
"Yes," answered St. George, calmly.
" I am."
The pale, nervous, shabby little man
went back to his waltzes and his pupils.
He did better and better, began actually to
get on in the world, in spite of the fear
ful drain at home, and his Honor, the
puffy-faced father-in-law, smiled approv
ingly. One day St. George actually
mentioned the old dream again to Eugene
" if I do as well as this, one more year,
and don't go crazy before the year is out, I
do believe I can go to Italy after all."
It is a blessed provision of creation that
we do not know the future, - even three
days ahead. Three davs afrr he had
spoken to Eugene, John St. George was
standing beside the piano, timing the les
son for a wieu-ueiny stupid pupiL The
pupil made horrible havoc of both time
and tune, and St. George was suffering
"La, la, la," said the master, timing with
l.tc 1.. ii.l-
" Turn, turn, tiAn," thumied the stupid
" I think I'll sit down," said the mas
ter. " Now go over again louder la, la,
" Turn " began the pupil. Aheavy
body fell to tin? floor. It was the master.
The" pupil opened tlie door and screamed
tor Mrs. St. Gvorge, with a scream that
thrilled through the house. His Honor's
daughter and the servants came running
w ihlly. They lilted (he master to a sofa.
His face was purple, and he was breathing
heavily. Some ene ran for Eugene Arnot.
Ills Honor's daughter met him atthedoor
with scared eyes and disordered hair,
wringing her hands.
" St. George is dead ! I killed him," she
cried. ' -
" That you did, - ma'am, and may God
fargive you for jj," auswered Eugene Ar
not." He was not dead, though ; not yet. He
HiHMert fir "a-day or so. and recovered
cotiiciouiuess enough to recognize Eugene
Arnot. Me said har.llv anything intelligible,-
however. - Onbe .in a while m)
bubbled feebly abont OrjiheHiand thuBai
ouautes and a great s6iig,' lut there wut
no seuw to iu liis Honor' daugau sakL
Once, too. he looked out the whiilnw with
his'dTm eyes, and cau ght sight of a house,
up the side of which a wandering ivy had
GIBSON COUNTY, TENNESSEE, OCTOBER
climbed and spread its tendrils out until it
had covered the whole wall.
" I don't like walls of houses covered
with green vines," muttered St. George,
"it's bo much like living in a grave."
He did not say anything after that, ex
cept to mumble something about a song.
When the sun went down and rose again,
there came to the few who loved John St.
George the saddest of all human experi
ence the time we begin to say was instead
of U of our friends.
Eugene Arnot placed a pretty gray mon
ument over his friend's grave. And he
carved on the gray stone, after tlie name
and age of the dead, the inscription :
"an unfinished poem."
Sometimes when Eugene Arnot visits
St. George's grave, so vividly does the re
membrance of all that is gone come over
him, that he half fancies there is an invisi
ble sentient presence in the air, and that
the very trees have taken up tlie refrain
and are whisjiering a sweet, strange music
the music, of the song which was never
written. Cincinnati Commercial.
Some Connecticut " Blue Laws."
There are a number of laws in the statute-books
of oil the old States which are
now never enforced. Of some such still
existing in Connecticut, the Hartford Post
discourses pleasantly as follows :
While very excellent as viewed from a
purely religious standpoint, and doubtless
inr eti'ng at the time of their enactment the
views of a large majority of the citizens
of the State, any attempt to enforce them
in this generation would be laughed to
scorn. Whether w are more wicked or
only a little wi.-er and a little more liberal
than our forefathers, are points on which
there will tie found a wide diversity of
opinion. Few are aware that a person
taking a ride for recreation on the Sabbath
day, with his family or otherwise, becomes
liable to arrest and tine, yet such is the
law. Sec. 1 of Title 51 reads :
"No person shall do any secular business,
work or labor, works ot necessity and mercy ex
cepted, nor keep open any shop, warehouse or
workhouse, nor exfiose to sale any g'Kds, wares
or merchandise, or any other property, nor en
ira)?e in any sport, game, play ur recreation on
the Lord's duy , between the rising of the sun and
the setting ol the same, nor shall any traveler,
drover, wagoner or teamster travel on said day,
bftween said times, except from necessity or
ch:irity, and every person so oflending shall pay
a fine not exceeding $1, nor less than $1," etc.
If this law should be enforced according
to its strict letter, it would throng the station-house
every Sunday with worthy citi
zens of Hartford who had started for a
quiet afternoon drive to Wetherslield. East
Hartford, or any of the adjoining villages
or towns. And further than this, if the
team should be a hired one, the person
letting the same for travel other (to quote
the words of the law) than from " neces
sity or mercy," would be liable, under
Sec. 10 of Title 52, to a tine of $20. But
the oflicer who would attempt to prosecute
under this law would be very apt to get a
coat of tar and feathers for his trouble,
even in the good, law-abiding State of Con
necticut. We now come to another singular law,
as found in Sec. 199, Chap. 10, Title 12, of
the Revised Statutes, as follows :
'Every person who shall be guilty of blas
phemy against Uod, or either of the persons of
the Holy Trinity, or the Christian religien, or the
Holy Scriptures, shall be punished by One, Dot
exceeding $1110, and by imprisonment in a com
mon jail, not exceeding one year, and may also
be bound to his good behavior at the discretion
of the court."
Blasphemy was made a capital offense
in the code ot 1042, and remained so until
the revision of 17S4, when the penalty
wa3 changed to whipping on the naked
body, not exceeding forty stripes, and sit
ting in the pillory one hour. In the re
vision of 1S21, the present provisions were
enacted. Webster defines " blasphemer"
in these words: "To speak of the Su
preme Being in terms of impious irrever
ence; to revile or speak reproachfully of
God, Christ, or the Holy Spirit." Now
the question very naturally arises whether,
under a strict construction of the statute,
any person speaking disdainfully of the
Trinity (from the fact that they deny it)
could not be prosecuted! However, al
though similar laws will be found on the
statute books of several of the States, and
nearly all of these in New England, prose
cutions have been of very rare occurrence,
and for many jxars past none have been
At the time of the adoption of the State
Constitution, its authors seemed to have
quite as strong a feeling as the early set
tlers in favor of the support of the Gospel,
and took good care to provide legally for
contributions thereto from all persons who
were received into church membership.
And at that time, not to be a church-member
was nearly equivalent to being be3"ond
the pale of society.
The following is an extract on this point
from Art. VII. of the Constitution:
" And each and every society or denomination
of Christians, in this State, shall have and en
joy the same and equal powers, rights, and priv
ileges; and shall have power and authority to
support and maintain the ministers and teachers
of tneir respective denominations, and to build
and repair tneir houses for public worship, by a
tax on the members of any such society only, to
be laid by a major vote ol the legal voters assem
bled at any soon ty meeiing, warned and held ac
cording to law or in any other rminner."
A Tery wise and just decision as to the
force of this article on religion is that the
Legislature cannot divide an ancient, lo
cal, or territorial ecclesiastical society into
two or more such societies, nor divide the
fund owned by such ancient society, and
assign a portion of it to a new society.
This was the ruling in the case of the
Second Ecclesiastical Society versus the
First Eccleiastical Society of Portland.
Sec. 10 of Chap. 4, Title 7, of the Stat
utes, provides that this tax shall be laid on
the members according to the assessment
or "grand list" last made out according to
law, or according to the next legal list
and shall be payable within one year. It
is further provided that rate-bills shall be
made out against the members of the Com
mittee of the Society who shall apply to a
Justice of the Peace of the county for a
warrant directed to the collectors appoint
ed to collect the tax, authorizing them to
levy and collect the same. Under this law,
if, at a meeting of the members of the
Pearl Street Church, it should be decided
to expend $50,000 in the improvement of
the cnurcn edince, an assessment based on
the grand list could be made on the pro
ertv of all th members of the society, and
they could be compelled to pay the amount
assessed, iiesiguation of membership af
ter the vote had been passed would not
free a member from this obligation, if on-
posed to such expenditure, he having
Deen a member of the society at the tune
of the passage of said vote, and therefore
mutually involved jvith the other mem
bers. It is not known that any funds have
been raised under this law for the past
fifty years or more, as there is little ditli
culty in securing voluntary contributions.
But if the majority of the members of any
church organization choose to fake ad
vantage of its provisions, they have full
legal authority to do so. The injustice of
mis constitutional provision is that no per
son can become a member of anv ecclesi-1
astieal organization without, in fact, sub
mitting his entire property to tax by a
majority vote of the members thereof, for
use tor church purpo-es.
There is a paragraph going the rounds
which says that a shower of pismires re
cently fell upon St. Louis. The envy and
rage "that this information will stir up in
the breast of the rival city of Chicago, are
things which tlus pen has not the hardi
hood to undertake to describe. Courier-
It having been asked, by one curious in
the causes of things, " Why two-thirds of
the hotel-clerks are bald ? " a keen ob
server gives it as. his opinion that it may
be "Because the forces of nature have
.'been diverted from the scalp to the -eultj-
vanon of supyruaturaJ cheek. '
The young daughter of Secretary
unstow will be a debautahie in V ashing
tou society this winter.
UNIOK PRATER MEEHN'O EVERY FRI
dav evening, with, correct singing ol meter
and wmnowrd hymn; also, ol epiritual sonss:
all wiih organ acoompaniment. BENJAMIN
ALliltU, 3 J West Sbih St., east of 1Kb avenue.
A Sun reporter, whose curiosity had
been excited by Uie foregoing advertise
ment, called at 353 West Thirty-sixth St.,
and read the sign over the door, " Prayer
Meeting this Evening." He asked for Mr.
Benjamin Albro, and a medium-sized gen
tleman about 55 years ot age, rather stout,
with sharp little eyes, that twinkled with
good humor, came trotting down stairs.
The reporter explained his business.
" Oh yes, oh yes. Sit down. I'll tell
you all about it. Well, you see, something
better than a year ago my eldest daughter,
who plays the organ well, and is a good
singer too, got in the habit of having a
good many young people come in oni oi
twice a week to sing. By and by so many
came that I said to her that I thought we
might as well start a sort of prayer meet
ing, and have lots of singing, and some
praying and speaking. I am a Methodist,
but we started the meeting by inviting all
to come, without respect to denomination.
it uceiirrod to me that it would ue a goon
plan to advertise in the didly newspapers.
v hen 1 came to .New lork a poor young
man I commenced business by advertising,
and I found that the papers made me pros
per. There's nothing like advertising."
"Then you are not a clergyman, i ney
told me across tiie street that you were a
"Bless you, no : I'm nothing dui a gro
cer. I've been in the business lorry years.
Why. you've heard of Albro Brothers and
the other firms connected with the Al
bros. I started them all. Well, as I was
saving, I thought I'd advertise and so I
did. Then some of the members of the
Free Tabernacle Church, where I attend-
some old fogies who are just like an old
mill horse that has got used to going in a
circle and can't go anywhere else came to
me and wanted to know it 1 wasn't doing
wrong to advertise in secular papers, and
if I hadn't better advertise in religious pa
pers; but 1 told them the Saviour said he
came not to call the righteous but sinners
to renentance, and that I thought we
couldn't do better than follow in his foot-
tens, and that settled them. W ell, from
that day to this the meetings have prosper
ed. The people of New York are just
like the young robins at my old home in
Saratoga county whenever they hear a
little rustle in the leaves ahove them, open
fly all their mouths; they are always hun
gry for something. It's just so with the
young folks of New York, and the minute
thev heard of our meeting tuey came.
Lots of them came to make fun; but
I let 'em laugh, and never had
any trouble. 1 uon t Deneve m
this sour, cross-faced religion. I ain't like
some old deacons and persons that, when
a girl cmnes to meeting with her feller, go
and sit between them because they some
times look at each other and laugh. And
so when the meeting gets dull or the
voting folks begin to make fun we start up
some of the jubilee songs, and pretty soon
they're all singing away like everything.
Sometimes I have counted as many as sixty
young women in a meeting, and maybe
the very next week there'll be a big ma
jority of men present. That's tlie way it
goes. 1 must say tne cnurcnes rounti
here don't help much, and it's hard work
sometimes to find any one to take part.
But the young people are leginning to
carry on the meetings themselves. I can't
sav how many have got religion here. A
good many. When they get pretty well
settled they go off and join some church.
It's Ix-en a good thing for tlie girls.
There's lots of 'em around here ; good
girls too, who got the habit of walking
tliestreets and laughing and giggling ac
everybody. They 'didn't mean any harm,
but thev were very imprudent. Well, a
good many of them have got religion here,
and are now working hard to bring in oth
ers. One of them is thinking of being a
missionary. She's going to preach to us
next Friday evening."
" But wlio pays for all this advertising,
" Oh, it doesn't cost much, and I might
as well spend my money that way as in a
barroom, and beifcT, too. You see, I left
business some time ago, and 1 must have
something to do, and 1 might as well try
to do some good before I die, and certain
ly there's need enough for it in New
York." N. Y. Sun.
Day Without Sight.
There i perhaps no influence so subtle,
yet so constraining, as that of climate, sun
and air. And the sensation of the Arctic
double day, light perpetual, is something
quite new and extraordinary, exciting yet
invigorating. It enables one to go to bed
at 1 o'clock and rise again at 5 without the
least feeling of lassitude. Only very little
sleep is required where the life-giving rays
never desert us. An approximation to
this higher animation may be felt in the
Shetlands, where the children may be seen
playing on the hillside and in daylight till
11, and people turn into bed very late
and reluctantly. Yet the extreme north
of the Shetlands is only as far north as
Bergen, at which place the Arctic voyager
feels already, and with intense regret, that
the long days have left him, that the nights
of tlie less favored Southern countries' are
beginning, and that gas in the streets and
candles in the house are not cast-off ab
surdities. Indeed, as to latitude, Norway
may be almost said to begin where Great
Britain ends. Christiansaud, the extreme
southern point of Norway, is in latitude
58 degrees, on the same parallel with the
soutlfof Sutherlandshire. about Dunrobin
Castle and Lairg. Thence Norway ex
tends for more than thirteen degrees to
beyond 71 degrees, or 4 degrees beyond
the Arctic Circle. The entrance into the
Arctic region makes a more sudden and
violent change in the summer climate than
might have been expected. No experience
in the long days in the north of Scotland,
or even at Throndhjem (o3J), gives any
adequate forecast of the true Arctic night.
Near the Arctic circle you may, for about
a fortnight at midsummer, see the sun de
scend below the horizon at ten minutes
before twelve, leaving a subdued light, as
if he were behind a cloud, and rise again
at ten minutes past, nearly at tlie same
spot, which of course is north, with en
hanced splendor. For a few minutes ot
the sun's absence a night-chill is percepti
ble, which is dispelled directly by his ris
ing rays; but so far we- have not yet
reached, the Arctic summer. The next
night, if you have been voyaging on mean
while, you must be a degi ee or so within
the circle, and if the weather is tine and
the northern horizon free from high land,
you may carefully watch the golden orb
(uot generally 60 red as with us) descend
toward the horizon, but, when about three
times his own diameter from the horizon,
afLer a few iiynutes of apparent stand-still,
begin to rise again, moving toward the
east. The heat and brilliancy of the
sun this night are such that parasols are
generally used, till the interest of the few
minutes of crisis causes them to be discard
ed, and that if there be not too much
wind, holes may be made in woolen
clothes, pipes lighted, etc., by ordinary
burning glasses ; the sun may be gazed on,
though with some pain, by the naked eye.
The further north you go "the higher is the
sun's lowest point," till at Tromso (68 40')
he is five or six times his diameter above
the horizon, and the longer is the period
during which he never sets, which is a full
mouth at Hammerfest (7s 400. The
amount of light of course diminishes dur
ing the evening, but after 10:30 remains
the same," and appears toward midnight
rather to increase. It has greater softness
than the light of day, and sheds a pecu
liar warm glow over the 6ta and. rocks,
which must be seen to be thoroughly un
(IcrstiXHl. Afar midnight it is interesting
to watch ,the evening light change its
ciuracitr ; about 12:30, or rather later, it
assumes a whiter color, more like what
we know as early morning light an hour
after sunrise. The birds fly about, the
fishes jump, and animated nature seems to
know as little of night as inanimate. On
shore, for instance, at Tromso, people are
out walking or standing at their house
doors, enjoying the night as we do ttie day.
Perhaps they retire to sleep at 1 or 2 ; but
sleep seems scarcely a necessity to them,
and they are up again early. It deserves to
be recorded also that a photographer at
Tromso took successful portraits of a large
group of steamboat passengers exactly at
midnight, June 27. It need hardly be
mentioned that neither within the Arctic
Circle nor considerably south of it wtre
any stars visible at midsummer, nor till
the end of July ; and the moon but rarely,
and then as pale as at noon in England.
Of course this description is true only of
bright nights ; there are dull nights there,
as there are dull days with ns; and many
a traveler may steam from Throndhjem to
the North Cape without ever seeing the
sun at midnight through his porthole, as
the present writer could do shortly after
leaving Throndhjem. Saturday Review.
Notes on the Manufacture of Wines.
Many persons suppose that a pure un
adulterated wine is merely the juice of the
grape, fermented and then bottled. While
this is the ease in regard to a very few of
the wines in commerce, the majority of
wines sold undergo some pecul'-r process
of manufacture to which they owe their
flavor, color, or amount of alcohol. And
in stating this I do not refer to the arti
ficial wines that are made from raisins,
burnt sugar, essential oils, and proof-spirits,
but to those which have for their basis
the juice of the grape genuine port,
sherry, or champagne, tr instance.
The juice of the grape when fermented
without any addition of spirits or sugar
produces what is known as sour wine.
These wines rarely contain over ten or
twelve per cent, of alcohol, and are pro
duced mostly on the Rhine. Claret and
Burgundy also belong to this class.
Port wine is produced in the northern
part of Portugal, and is mostly shipped
from Oporto, whence it takes its name.
The grapes are allowed to hang on the
vines for some time after they are fully
ripe, in order that the juice may become
as concentrated as possible. Many of the
vine growers make wine themselveS, oth
ers sell the grapes to the manufacturers.
The grapes are trodden on platforms by
men, and the juice, mixed with the stalks
and husks, is then placed in large stone
vats until it ferments. When the fermen
tation has proceeded so far that the hy
drometer stands at zero in the juice, the
fermenting mass is agitated by men who
go into the vats naked. This is in order
to mix tlie husks and juice so thoroughly
that all the coloring matter will be extrac
ted from the former. After this mixing
the wii.e is drawn off and placed in large
vessels holding several hundred gallous.
In good years the grapes contain too much
sugar in proportion to the alcohol ; some
brandy is threfore added. If, on the con
trary, the wine is deficient in sugar, this,
as well as alcohol and coloring matter,
must be supplied. Beet root sugar or
cane sugar is added, or a portion of the
juice is concentrated and the sirup
oroduced is returned to the cask. If it is
too nale. dried elderberries or a peculiar
kind of cherries are added; extract of
Brazil wood is occasionally used, ine
wine is allowed to stay in hirge vats until
cold weather sets in. by which time it ha
deposited its lees. It is then drawn off
into pipes containing 115 gallons ; in these
it remains until the next spring, when it
is sent to Onorto.
No port wine is sent to England without
the addition of at least three gallons of
brandy to each pipe, and, in the case of the
so-called heavy oorts, from ntteen to sev
enteen gallons; this is independent of
what is added after the fermentation. 1 he
use of this brandy is necessary in order to
preserve the wine. If no brandy was ad
ded, it would be necessary to keep it at
Oporto from five to seven years before it
could be shipped. It is impossible to make
a natural port containing over sixteen per
cent, alcohol, while most ot those soiu
contain from twenty to twenty-five per
Dried elderberries are largely exported
from Portugal for the purpose of coloring
artificial port. At one time it was made a
felony for a farmer to have any elder trees
on his land within the limits of the port
wine district, but now the elder is generally
In close connection with the manufac
ture of port is the making of an article
known as jeropiga, and also as vinho
mudo ; a sub-variety of this is known as
leropiga tinta, aim mucn oi it is sent to
the United states under uie name oi pure
iuice." It is used for sweetening wines
for making artificial port, for doctoring
wines of inferior value, or for making ne
wus. It is made in various ways ; some
times by adding thirty-two per cent, of
nroof stunt to the fermented must ; occa
sionally by adding brandy to the pure
sweet must, rue tinta is protiucea oy
coloring tlie above with elderberries,
Sometimes molasses is added to give it
greater sweetness. Boston Journal of
Don't riease Don't.
Don't tell the little one. who may be
slisfhtlv willful, that "the black man will
come out of the dark cellar and carry it
off if it does not mind." Don't create a
needless fear to go with the child through
all the stages of its existence.
Don't tell the little five year old Jimmy
" the school ma am will cut oil his ears
"null out his teeth" "tie him up" or
anv of the horrible stories that are coin
monly presented to the childish imagina
tion. Think vou the little one will believe
anything you tell him after he becomes ac
quainted Willi me gentle teacuer who nas
not the least idea ot putting those tei rible
threats into execution r
Don't tell the children they must not
drink tea because it will make them black,
while vou continue the use of it daily,
Your example is more to them than pre
cept ; and while your face is as fair as a
June morning they will scarcely credit the
oft-told tale. " Either give up drinking the
pleasant beverage or give your children a
better reason for its non-use.
Don't tell them they must not eat sugar
or sweetmeats, because it will rot their
teeth. Pure sugar does not cause the
teeth to decay : and sugar with fruits is nu
tritious and healtny, notwithstanding the
old saw" to the contrary. The case ot
city children is often cited as if the cause
of their pale faces and slight constitutioi
were an over amount of sweetmeats with
their diet, when the actual cause is want of
t ire air and itroper exercise.
Don't tell the sick one that the medicine
is not bad to take, when you can hardly
keen vur own stomach from turning
" inside out at the smell of it. Better by
far to tell him the simple truth, that it is
disagreeable, but necessary for his health.
and vou desire him to take it at once. 1 en
to one he will swallow it with half the
trouble of coaxing and worry of wordt,
ai.d love you better for your firm, decided
Don t teach the children by example to
tell white lies to each other "and to their
neighbors. Guard lips and bridle your
tongue if you desire to have the coming
generation truthful. Truthfulness is one
of the foundation stones of heaven. Re
member the old, old Book says, " no liar"
shall enter within the gates of the beauti
ful city. There is no distinction between
white lies and those of a darker hue. The
fal-ehood is an untruth, whether tlie mat
ter be great or small. Rural Aew 1 orker,
Ft . v-t t Rmu. 1 eiin sweet milk
whites of 2 eggs, cup of butter, flour to
make a thick batter, i ctrp of yeast, 2 table-
spoontuis oi sugar, itaise "er nigut ; j. .
the butter and eggs in the morning; woik
in son.e flour, making a limber dough ;
form Lito rolls, and after the second rising
MX ti w- U4
Another Enoch Ardei.
Tennyson lived too early, and the story
of Enoch Arden was written too soon ;
for almost every day some strange event
brings up the retlcciiou that all the songs
of the Sierras have not yet been sung, nor
the strange hapiicnings in the land where
the Oregon hears no sound save that of its
own dashing have been told.
The particulars which follow might
well be set down as a reportorial fancy
were tliey not well known to a number of
witnesses who reside in this city, some of
whom are acquainted with one of the
characters of the chapter.
It was over forty years ago in the State
of Indiana that two lovers ripened into one
and started out in life with one resolve.
Hand ill hand two forms turned to tlie
West to seek a fortune which seemed to
stand upon the mountain tops and beckon
them on. It was summer in tlie shades of
the forests upon the slopes, and spring
time in the valleys, so that the journey
was made while nature was tendering an
ovation to the earth.
For two vears these two dwelt together
away from kindred and early associates,
fortune meanwhile laying ir Treasures ai
the door of their household. loaddto
their comforts and joys, a beautiful child
tripped before them and learned songs
from the murmurs of the sea, which she
sang beneath the thatch of the house that
opulence had built in the valleys.
Suddenly there ame a change which
caused as strange a story as has seldom
been told. The wife, still in the bloom of
womanhood, abandoned the roof of her
husband, biking the child with her. No
reason was felt tor her action, and the
husband went on about his worldly af
fairs, trusting to time to bring about a so
lution of what appeared to him to he the
most mysterious occurrence in the world.
Afrer a while he heard that she was mar
ried and living in the States. He kept the
secret close in his heart, and continued to
amass a fortune which to-day is estimated
at $100,000. Soon after he received an ap-
oointment as Unih-d States Interpreter
of the Flathead Indians in Oregon Terri
tory. But in the midst ot his cares he for
got not the days when he had loved a fair
thing in the East, and the pilgrimage they
had made together across tlie Western
main. Twenty-five years ago he came
back with the hope that he might find the
object he still cherished with tlie fondness
of youth. Inquiry was of no avail, and he
returned to the spot where the only de
lightful period of his life had b-en passed.
Fifteen vears were added to his life, and
still the story of the old, old love came
back to him. He was growing infirm, and
once more he reasoned, before the sum
mons should come he would make another
effort to find the only bride his lite and
heart had ever known.
He arrived in Kansas City Tuesday
morning, having heard that the object of
his search was living with her second hus
band in the quiet little village ot W ater
Valley. Clay county, Mo., four miles dis
tant from this city. Tuesday night lie was
under her roof. Forty years of separa
tion ! The bride had grown gray, and the
innocent child was iu the prime of life,
married, and living happily with the
The father and husband told the story of
his life and of Ins fortune, and again asked
the wife of his youth to make another
journey with him to the land over ine
mountains. 1 nis sue reiuseu to uo at uns
time. An arrangement was made, how
ever, which will, it carried out, again
bring the twain beneath the same roof, to
close the last chapter of life as they began
the earlier ones as man and wile.
THE CURTAIN FALLS.
He is to visit Indiana, where he will re
main during the winter. On the opening
of spring he is to call this way on his re
turn, where he will be joined by the only
one he has loved, and to whom he has
been faithful for forty weary years.
This is the story as it came from the lips
of a man in whose face there was a shadow
yesterday of the sunlight of spring; up
on whose lips there were whispers of hope,
and in whose heart there sprang up an
ticipations that seemed to make age forget
Who will not wish him another bridal
ioumev over the mountains by the sun
when the next spring-time shall come ?
Kansas City Times.
A Remarkable Masonic Incident.
The first Masonic funeral that ever oc
curred in California took place in 1819,
and was performed over a brother found
drowned in the bay of San Francisco. An
account of the ceremonies states that on
the body of the deceased was found a sil
ver mark of a M:tson, upon which were
engraved the initials ot his name. A little
further investigation revealed to the be
holder the most singularexhibition of Ma
sonic emblems that was ever drawn ny the
insenuitv of man upon the human skin
There is nothing in the history or tradi
tions of Freemasonry enual to it. Beauti
fully dotted on his left arm, iu red and
blue ink, which time could not eflace, ap
peared all the emblems of the entire ap
prenticeship, mere was tne iioiy mine,
square and compass, the twenty-four inch
gauge and common gavel. 1 here were
also the Masonic pavement, representing
the ground floor of King Solomon's tem
ple, the indented tessel which surrounds
it, and the Mazing star in me center, t n
his right arm, and artistically executed in
the same indelible liquid, were the em
blems pertaining to the Fellowcntl't's tie
gree, viz : The square, the level and the
piutnb. There were also the five columns
representing the five orders of architec
ture ; the Tuscan, Doric, Ionic, Corinthian
and Composite. In removing his gar
ments from his body, the Mgrd presented
itself with all the other tools of operative
masonry. Over his heart was the pot of
incense. On other parts of his body was
the bee-hivr. the book ot constitutions.
E-uarded by the Tyler's sword, pointing to
a naked heart ; the All-Seeing Eye, the
anchor and ark, thu hour-glass, the scythe,
the forty-seventh problem of Euclid, the
sun, moon, stars and comets; the three steps
which are emblematical of youth, man
hood and age. Admirably executed was
the weeping virgin, reclining upon a bro
ken column, upon which lay the book of
constitutions. In her right hand she held
the pot of incene. the Masonic emblem of
a pure heart, and in her left hand a sprig
of acacia, the emblem of the immortality
of the soul. Immediately beneath her
stood winged Time, with his scythe by his
side, which cuts the brittle thread of life,
and the hour-glass at his feet, which is
ever reminding us that life is withering
away. The wkhtrsd and attenuated fin
gers of the destroyer were placed amid the
long and flowing ringlets of the di-conso-iate
mourner. 'Thus were striking em
blems of mortality and immortality blend
ed in one pictorial representation. It was
a spectacle such as Masons never saw be
fore, and in all probability such as the fra
ternity will never witness again. The
brother's name was never known. Phila
How Seeds Tegetate.
When a seed is placed in the earth and
subjected to the action of warmth, mois
ture and air, it first absorbs moisture,
swells up some times to several times its
former size, and sends up a shoot to the
surface, and at the same time throws down
a rootlet into the soil below. Unless this
root is sufliciently developed to bring up
food from the sx.il, the plant derives its
whole nutriment from the seed. This is
also the case until tlie leaves are formed
and enabled to absorb carbonic acid from
the atmosphere and obtain the renusite
supply of carbon from the same. " Hence,
if seeds are planted too deep, much of the
substance that would promote the develop
ment of leaves and stem above ground is
used up in forming a long stem beneath
Soldi rs ought to be good physiogno
mists. They all know how to write about
"now many people," says Jeremy
Taylor, M are busy in this world gathering
together a handful of thorns to sit upon. '
A littlb boy couldn't remember the
text exactly, but thought it was some
thing about a hawk between two pigeons.
It was " Why halt ye between two bpin
ions." Somk man in Boston publishes a paper
called the Kingdom of Heaven, for 75 cents
a year. Of course it is a bo.i allair. The
genuine Kingdom of Heaven can be had
" without money and without price."
Thk following is said to be a popular
song in Duluth: "Beefsteak when I'm
hungry. Whisky when I'm dry. Green
backs when I'm hard-up, And Heaven
when I die."
Whknkver a person sitting alongside of
a woman in the street-car gets up to leave,
in nine cases out of ten the woman will
immediately try to spread herself so as to
coyer the vacant seat as well as her own.
In the present scant skirt fashion, the ef
fort to do this from mere force of habit is
more funny than effectual.
"Mamma, where do the cows get the
milk ? " asked Willie, looking up from the
foaming pan of milk which he had been
intently regarding. " Where do you get
your tears?" was the answer. After a
thoughtful silence he again broke out,
" Mamma, do the cows have to be spank
ed?" There is a Coroner in Boston who com
plains bitterly that his business is very
dull. Under the most promising circuni
cfan.va h still has the lowest sort ot luck.
A few davs since something happened
which should have given him a ca-e and
fuirfV-es. A man M years old tunioied u
feet down through "an elevator. They
thought he must be dead, anil sent tor
this poor Coroner. hen he arrived, tne
old gentleman, with hardly a scratch, was
sitting up as well as ever. Coroner talks
This is a strange story, not to be used
in Sunday-school. An Albany man out
of work and nearly starving, turned for
comfort in his extremity to his sainted
mother's BibW. for the first time sin-e Her
death in 1S!7. To his surprise and dwlight
he found a $10 bill between the leaves, and
immediately fell on his knees for the first
time since 1840. With a light heart and
wlitterin" eve he pravertullv started tor
the haker s to ootaiu a nut ii-i.
There he found that the bill was counter
feit, when he swore bitterly for the first
time in three hours.
What Jealousy Did for Two
One day last week 'Squire Sayer was
called upon to perform the marriage cer
emony for a couple who were making
their home at the American, lhey were
both of an age which might be called ma
ture, and the husband apieared to be well
supplied with the all-requisite, greenbacks.
The happy pair drove off in one of Esta
brook's best buggies, and spent the after
noon viewing the sights in and about len
ver. all unconscious of the presence of
Joel Schrager. a rival of the favored bride
groom, who arrived in town on the 0
o'clock train from Boulder. -
It came to pas that Schrager saw upon
the American House register the name ot
his hated and more aged rival, and right
after his name the word " wife." 1 his
sight drove Joel almost mad with rage,
disappointment and spite. To drown his
woe he went and got urunn ami reiuseu
to be comforted. Next morning the party
started home, Joel to go to work on a
ranch, where he is working on shares, and
the happy couple to their home, about two
miles below Valmont. Joel sat at one end
ot the car. with his face to the girl who
had jilted him for another. Her husband,
who was ten years her senior, observed
that this close scrutiny on the part of the
half-urunken Joel Schrager annoyed his
wife. He determined to put a stop to it.
and for that purpose stcped up to him,
and a few sharp words passed between
them. They passed out upon the rear
platform, where they remained in conver
sation several minutes, when both disap
peared. On the arrival of the train at
Davidson, the young wife, uneasy at her
husband's absence, made inquiries con
cerning him, when it was found that both
be and Sehrairer had left the train. The
alarmed wife, fearing the worst, took the
next train south to seek her husband, but
saw no signs of him or his antagonist
along ths road. On Ircr return to Bould
er, sick, weary, and full of gloomy appre
hensions, she found her husband awaiting
her. lie was badly bruised up, and wore
a white bandage about his head. It ap
pears that he and Schrager had engaged iu
a scutlle upon the rear of the car, when he
drew a pistol, intending to use it on his
assailant. Schrager seized him- suddenly
about the waist and fell with him down
the car steps upon the embankment, down
which they both rolled into the ditch;
here the tight continued, until both were
thoroughly bruised and exhausted.
When the fight was over they realized
fully their embarrassing position. The
train was nearly out of sight, and they
were miles from any station. Schrager
left his badly-pummeled antagonist and
walked to the next ranch, and took the
next train for Denver, where he lias re
mained ever since. He spent Saturday
night in the calaboose, where he poured
out his griefs and told his story of woe to
our reporter. He says he will not go back
to Boulder county to be luHghed at, but
will go and do something desperate at
San Juan. Denver Daily World.
Prehistoric Remains in Oceania.
It may be remembered, says the London
Academy, that when Magellan discovered
the Philippines he was astonished to light
upon an Arabic alphabet in use at Cabu.
On inquiry he found that somewhere about
the ninth century some Mohammedan
priests from Oman had landed here, ami
taught the natives the Koran. Only
some few isolated facts are known concern
ing the population of the islands of Ocean
ia before the discovery of European voy
agers, and, any addition to our knowledge,
however small, is therefore of great value.
A Manilla pajwr announces the discovery
of some prehistoric remains, apparently
akin jo those of Mexico and the United
State-, on the little islands of Kota and
Tinian, which form part of the Lad rone or
Mariana Islands. W e have as yet but very
scanty particulars of these antiquities, but
they ipear to eonsi.-t in each case of two
series of eight stone pyramids, standing in
two rows, ai. intervals of twelve feet, the
base being twelve feet square ami the,
heigtt thirty-six feet. Th summit is
crow led by a kind of large cup equal in
diameter to the diagonal of the base. Un
fortunately the description of these pyra
mids given us leaves much to be desired,
but there is little doubt that they belong
to an age anterior to the Spanish conquest,
and tlat they cannot pos.-ibly lie ascribed
to a nee at all similar to the v indictive and
degraded aborigines of the archipelago.
Kroir.. the present description these monu
ments would seem to have much in com
mon with the prehistoric remains found
iu Mexico and some of the United States.
Sheepskin at a Discount.
A recent graduate, whoe name is hard
ly t'T yet in the triennial catalogue, armed
himself with his diploma and started in
search of a situation in the metropolis.
Having removed his diamond studs ami
donned his last year's hat, he sailed into a
counting-house," and bade the old gray
haired serf to show him into the senior
partner's office. On coming into the pres
ence of the bald-headed millionaire, he
made an obsequious, we might say a hu
miliating, bow. He stated that he was in
.-eart h of a situation. The man said :
" Well, sir. what can you do?" " Any
thing," replied our friend. "What sal
ary do you expect?" was the next inquiry
of the old buffer. " Oh, well, .1.20u will
do." " Why, my young man, I can get
two thousand clerks, competent men at
that, for $5 a week." The graduate at this
stage of the game pulled out his diploma
and exclaimed, " You may not be awa-e
of it. sir, but I am a graduate of ale, and
here is my diploma." " If that is the case,
I do not want you at any price." The
alumnus grew red in the face, and turning
to the old man, said : " Before I will work
for 55 per week I will chew air for nour
ishment on the frofit sf-ps ot the Fifth
Avenue Hotel. Good inorniug." -
Pittsburg is to have a line of pipe
laid through her streets for the transpor
tation of oil.