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JAMB S HI:B,U BUN, 1'rop'rr.
ASIITAIllI.A i I OHIO.
THE OLD MILL.
Here from the brow of the Mil I look,
Through n lattice ftf hougha and Icavea,
On tltr old gray mill with IIn giiiiibrcl roof,
And the tno.k on Its rotting t-avea.
1 hear the eliitfrr that )nrUa wnllk,
And the rukhlng watcr'k koutid,
And I aee the ItlKi-h flontk tie and full
A the wheel g-ooa slowly round.
I mda there often when I wan young,
With mv gri.t on the horae before.
And talked with Nelly, t tin mlllcr'k girl,
An 1 waited my tuni At the door.
And while ulii loBHi'd her ringlets brown.
And tllt-ted mid chatted no tree,
The wheel might ktnp, or the wheel might go,
It wan nil tilt) uaiuti to ma.
Tlk twenty yenrs klnca lat I stood
tin thf itpot where 1 ktutid to-day,
And Nelly Ik wed, and the miller U dead,
And the mill and I art gray.
But both, till we f Hll Into ruin and wreck,
To our fortune of toll are bound ;
And the man goek and thf ktreatn flnwSj
And the w heel moves slowly round.
Tkomai HunnEngUih, fci Bnrjter'tjor April.
A MONTANA MINER.
As I write the
name, happy days spont in the Rocky
Mountains collie back to me in a very
leap-title of pleasant recollections.
I was alone in the mountains, in the
service of the Northern Pacific Railroad
Company as a mining engineer. I had
been fishing in nameless mountain
brooks, fishing lazily. When I landed
a big trout I generally stretched myself
under the evergreens and admired" the
fish ; or I celebrated my success by a
snoke. Lazy as my fishing was. It kept
me supplied with food. One bright Oc
tober day I resolved to fix the limits of
the little coal field in the Mullen Pass.
Mounting my horse, I rode into the for
est. Soon finding an open space covered
with bunch grass, I decided to camp
mere, ami iroin tnat point study the hold
on foot. So, throwing mv blanket un
der a tree, I unsaddled my horse and
picketed him on the grass with a long
rope. I tested its longth, and, finding
that he could get water, I knew he would
not suffer if 1 did not return for several
days. Strapping a full cartritlge belt
around me, fastening my rille on my
oacx, i picKea up my trout pole ana
walked off. A little after noon I had
finished my investigation of the north'
ern edge of the coal field. Being hun
gry, I idled a pipe and sat under a bush
while I debated what I should have for
dinner. I had a choice between trout.
as yet uncaught, and grouse, as
yet unshot. I had forty cartridges:
they were worth four cents each; I
could got no more ; I might need them
when I went North. So I decided to
have trout. They cost nothing. Find
ing a deep pool I soon landed three
fine fish. Then starting a fire, I coated
the fish with a thich layer of clay, and
when the fire burned low I placed them
in the coals. Scarcely had I done so
when I heard light footsteps, the snap
ping of dry twigs. From out of a dense
growth of young evergreens camo a
man. Looking at him, 1 summed him
up quickly mentally checking him off
as though I were entering a recruit on
a descriptive roll tawny yellow hair,
large brown eyes, long straight nose,
full red lips, square chin, wide smiling
mouth, full of strong white teeth, com-
Elexion of milk and roses under a
rownish hue ; six feet four inches high,
slender, erect, weight about 180 pounds,
about 22 years old ; Sharps rilie in his
hand, belt full of cartridges ; wonder
who he is; nice-looking chap in his new
suit of buckskin. These observations
were made inaudibly and instantly.
Standing motionless he looked at my
fire ; then, seeing me, walked at once
toward me. 1 rose up, looked him in
the face. Our eyes met. Each had
read the other at a glance. Holding out
his hand he said, " How ! My name
is Ed Van Thusen." I grasped his
hand and said, " How! Mine is Frank
Wilkeson." I liked him from the in
stant our hands clasped. Looking into
my fire with curious eyes, he indicated
with index finger the three wedge-shaped
clays and asked, What are those
things P" "Those objects that you
speak disrespectfully of as things are
three trout wrapped in clay. They are
our dinner," I replied. Ed looked
amused, and then said, " It is a new
way of cooking to me. If it is good
for trout, it should be good for grouse.
Delay the operation. I saw some fool
hens a few yards back in the forest. I'll
get a couple." He walked back into
the thicket, and soon I hoard two reports
of his rifle, and in a minute after Ed
came walking to the fire with two head
less fool-hens in his hands. We rubbed
the clay into the feathers and rolled
more about them until the ooating was
of the proper thickness ; then the birds
were placed in the center of the fire,
and Ed and I lay under the trees talk
ing. He was a miner, but, having tired
of the work, had gone hunting and fish
ing in the mountains for a week or two.
His blankets were further up the stream,
41 a little glen where there was good
crass. " Would I go up and camp with
hini?" I would. So, leaving him to
watch the fire and our dinner, I walked
down the stream to my horse, saddled
him nml thrnuiim n KloWA.
the saddle, walked back, the horse
following like a dog. Ed, seeing me
coming, poked the clays out of the coals
with a stick, and cracked them open
with a stone, and our dinner lay on the
half shell by the brook when I reached
the fire. We ate, and while eating
planned an elk hunt. We smoked after
our meal, and talked until the sun was
low in the West. Then, shouldering our
ritles, we walked up the valley, the horse
following. Ed had pitched his camp
that is, his blankets in a clump of pines
by the bank of a brook. Across the
water was a little meadow of ten or
twelve acres. His horse was picketed
there. Unsaddling, I turned my animal
loose, knowing he would not leave me.
We were high up In the mountains and
in an unfrequented place. Game was
plenty. The trout bit well. The air
was frosty o'nighta. One night as we
lay in our blankets, discussing a won
derful shot I had made that day (I had
missed a.; elk at twenty yards), the talk
became biographical, then grew confi
dential. Ed was telling me of a valley
he knew, where he believed there was
plenty of placer-gold, when I broke in
on his mining speculations with: "I
see you have had the small-pox. How
did you get that disease P" The ques
tion brought him Into a sitting poBture,
and then rising to his feet he rebuilt the
fire and answered. ' I will toll you a
story." Without other introduction he
In 1869 I was prospecting for gold
in the streams that flow down the west
side of the Kocky Mountains and empty
into the Flathead Hiver. I had no suc
cess, and became discouraged. I
solved to cross the range by one of the
many passes, and prospect in the val
leys on the eastern slope of the nioun
ains, I knew this land was scoured by
the lllackfcet war parties, as the war of
IMbV wm lhn raging, though the rag
ing was all on the iUa-kfeut side, the
settlers fleeing to the military posts and
me towns lor protection. 1 tiui de
scended into the valley of the Marias,
ann nau panned out plenty oi ground
without getting a oolor. I resolved to
go further down the stream ; so, leav
ing the valley, I rose up to the plains
ami rode to the eastward. Cutting off
a big bend of the little liver, I came to
the edge of a bluff, Caiefully, I looked
over. Below me was a little glen. The
high bluffs receding from the river bank
and describing a circle inclosed some
thirty acres of meadow and a little
fjrove of poplar trees. Cautiously I
onketl and made out the tops of several
lodges standing In the grove. This was
a pleasant discovery. Thon I noticed
that there were no horses to be seen ; so
I dismounted, and, lying down behind
some rocks, watehed the camp. After
an hour of watchfulness I was convinced
that there were no Indians in the vil
lage. Not a sign of life could I see; no
smoke, no blackoning of the leaves of
the trees. A careful examination of the
bunch grass with my field glass showed
me that it was in seed, and that it had
not been grazed on. Still afraid that
mere was some trap, I hesitated, when
I saw seven white-tailed deer walk out
of the woods, stand an instant, then
slowly feed back into cover. Knowing
that they would not stay near an Indian
village, I at once mounted and rode
down a trail into the valley. I struck a
heavy trail leading into "the grove. It
had not been used lately, as I saw spi
dors1 webs stretehed across it. I rode
into the woods and soon came on the
camp. There wcro twenty lodges, the
tents in two rows. I sat on my horse
and looked carefully at the deserted vil
lage. The birds flitted from tree to tree
Some sat on the lodge poles and sang
Spiders' webs stretched from bunch to
bunch of the grass. I thought all the
spiders in Montana had spun their webs
there. Every lodge had its door sewn
up. I say every lodge, but there were two
or three open. 1 was awe-stncKen ana
strongly inclined to ride away without
lurtner investigation, out aeciuea to
look into this strange condition. I dis
mounted, and cut a slit into the first
lodge. Looking into the gloom of the
tent, I was startled to see many Inimins
sitting around the walls all blanketed,
all motionless. Enlarging the slit by a
cross slash so as to admit the light, I
was shocked to find that these were dead
Indians. The flesh had dropped from
their skulls. The circle of dead men
seemed to be grinning a welcome to me
Their stony, white teeth glistened bright
ly. The empty sockets oj their eyes all
seemed to be turned on me. I would
not have been surprised to have had a
bony arm and nesbloss hand come forth
from under the rotted blankets and
beckon me to enter. The arms of the
dead warriors lay before them or at
their sides. I here were bows, and quiv-
era tilled with long war-arrows, and
flint-lock muskete. Hanging above them
on the lodge-poles were bunches
of worm-eaten, jerked meat.
looked into several of the lodges
All were the same.
" One tent, the largest, had but a sin
gle occupant. His hair was decked
with feathers. Hanging around the
fleshless neck bone was a treat neck
lace of the claws of the grizzly bear, the
points of the claws hidden between the
ribs. Above him, fastened to a lodge
pole, dangled a bunch of Indian scalps:
a full belt of cartridges was buckled
around him. His blanket was thrown
across his legs, and lying on his lap.
with the fleshless hands grasping it, was
a breech-loading rille. There sat a war
chief with bow and full quiver to his
back, ready to entrain in tiirlit the min
ute the soul should again be breathed
into him Leaving him to await the
summons, I went to the tents that were
opened. These I found had been plun
dered. The dead had been thrown
down, their skulls apparently kicked
out, as they were not to be seen, and
the smaller bones had been scattered
over the ground. Saddles were gone,
blankets were missing. Indignant at
the outrage that had been offered to the
dead of a brave people, I was about to
enter the lodge, when it seemed as
thouirh I heard a voice speakinar, so dis
tinctly was the idea conveyed to my
Drain, isaid: xouass! thiamine
village of the Blackfeet dead;' then
slower, as if the words dropped into my
ears one by one. ' They died of
small-pox.' Instantly com
my danger, l ran to my norse, moun1
and rode quickly away. I was afraid
to look back lor tear the dead warriors
were standing outside of their lodges,
motioning me to return. 1 was dread
fully nervous, actually frightened. The
horrors of the tillage haunted me and
drove me from the valley. 1 went north
to the Milk Kiver. Not finding color
there, 1 crossed the range and descend'
ed to the Flathead Klver. I was tired
of prospecting, and. being still nervous.
I thought a month's fishing and hunting
would restore my nerves, and I hoped
would remove the specter ot tne small'
pox village and its ghastly inmates from
my mind. I had crossed the range by
one of the Milk River passes, and had
oome down the western slope some dis
tance above the Flathead Lake. Riding
down the valley I saw horses with ropes
on their necks, grazingonaplain where
a brook Joined the main river. Sus
pecting Indians, I hid in a thicket and
examined the plain closely with my
glass. I could see nothing exoept the
horse and some objects under a thorn
bush by the side of the creek. I rode
to the bush. There, in i
fllthv condition and in the eniD
tively loathsome state ot small
pox, lay two men, miners like
myself. Their condition was indescrib
ably offensive and pitiable. The iron
prospecting pans lay near them ; also
bacon, flour, rifles, and great quantities
of blankets. I dismounted, unsad
dled my horse, turned him loose,
and building a shelter of blankets, at
once began cooking for and nursing
those men. I nursod them long. When
they were mending, had recovered so
that they could walk about a little, I
took sick. I was chilly ; little waves of
cold ran down my backbone; I had
headache, had a fever; these grew
worse for a few days, and then I knew
nothing, until I woke up to find myself
as loathsome an object as ever was seen.
The two men I nursed had nursed me.
They told me they had contracted the
disease by breaking into the lodges of
the dead Blackfeet on the Marias and
stealing their blankets. I naturally was
angry at this, and expressed myself
freely. Frank, those two men resented
the fretting of a sick man, and let me
alone to get well the best I could ; not
only left me, but they stole my horse.
I lay around until 1 got strong, and then
I fished and hunted and slowly walked
to the mining camp on Dog Creek.
When I meet those miners, if ever I do,
I shall kill them. Now you know how I
got the small-pox."
Amazed at the story, I looked at Ed
" In wonder's name, man, what made
you stop with two utter strangers and
nurse them through the small-pox P You
could not have cared fur them. What
difference did It make to you whether
they lived or tiled P" Never will I for
get the looa the grand fellow gave me
as he said : " Well, by 1 what else
would I doP" It was a hopeless task to
beat selllnnne.su and inhumanity into his
handsome head ; so that conversation
dropped, with a huge Increase of admir
ation on my part for my comrade. Ing
after Kd thought I was asleep I could
near mm giving vent to snorts oi aston
ishment, and Tn a bewildered Injured
undertone repeat the only profanity I
ever knew him to be guilty of : ' Well,
by I" Once I saw him rise on his
elbow and a look into my face as I lay
on my back. The full moon shone
brightly on me. I saw him look long
and earnestly at me, and then he lay
tlown muttering, "By ,he was only
the next day 1 finished my engineer
ing roconnolssance,and it was necessary
for me to go to Deer IOdge. So I
parted from Ed, agreeing to meet him
at the mining camp oa Elk Creek in a
week or ten days.
Arrived at the camp on Elk Creek, 1
asked for Van Thusen. He had gone
fishing. The camp was in a narrow
valley. Steep hillsides rose from the
water almost. 10 the south the slope
was woodod. The northern" slope was
bare. The stock of the camp had eaten
the bunch grass very close. The strong
winds constantly blowing had shifted
the top soil. It was gone, leaving the
delicate, wiry roots of the grass stand
ing above the soil in mosslike clumps.
There wore a few stunted pine trees with
ragged limns on this northern slope, all
leaning to the northeast. There was no
inn in this camp; so I went to the low
log saloon. Putting my blankets and
rille behind the bar, I told the barkeeper
that I was a friend of Van Thuscn's,
and wanted to sit around until he re
turned from fishing. There was a stove
in this saloon, a numocr of stools, hve
blanket-covered tables, and a few cigar
boxes filled with poker chips. Back of
the bar, on a rough shelf, stood an array
of white bottles. Many Bmall greenish
drinkingglassos with thick bottoms were
on the bar. At one end of the bar stood
a pair of delicate gold scales. On hear
ing my name, the barkecpor took a '
lively interest in me, and pressed me to
partake of drinks, " just one little cock-
tall," but l heggetl off on tne ground
that I could not stop at one. In the
afternoon a sodden mountain snow
storm came tearing down the valley, and
the miners, quitting work, came Hock
ing into the barroom. I was introduced
to many as " This is the friend Van was
telling us about." All were very kind
to me. A volley of profanity from the
street in front of the saloon ; " the door
was opened and slammed to arnin; and
there, shaking the snow from him, stood
a ruffian with two revolvers belted to
him. Spanish spurs were on his heavy
boots. The brim of his slouch hat was
turned up in front, revealing a mean,
scowling face. Striding to tne bar he
called: "Drinks for the crowd!"
One or two only drank with him. He
boastfully bragged of his skill in playing
poker, and wanted "some gentleman to
play." He was accommodated at once.
Declining to play "freeze out" for
drinks, or to play any thingor to drink
any thing, I worked myway into a
corner, and went to work on my note
book. All about me I heard, " Kings
up;" "Take the pot;" "Ace full;"
"It beats a flush;" and I smiled as I
heard the doleful voice of a " bluffer "
say, "Nine high." There was a hearty
laugh at this exposure of a lean hand. I
heard the voice of the strange ruffian
who had besought " some gentleman "
to play with him yelp out, "Four kings I
That pot is mine." The low-voiced gen
tleman he was playing with said, "Hold
on! I have four aces, The money is
mine!" With an oath, the ruffian
Eushed back his chair and walked to the
ar. He swallowed a full glass of whisky
and then fiercely glared over the room.
Filling his glass again, he stood glaring
around. Seeing me writing in a corner,
he put the glass on the counter
and strode over to me. Standing in
front of me, he was about to speak,
when I rose up, looked him squarely in
the face, and asked, " What do you
wantP" Our eyes met. He looked at
me for an instant and said, " Nothing,
I thought I knew you." He walked back
to the counter, and I, looking over
the room, saw half a dozen revolvers
disappear under the tables, and the
miners that handled them smiled to
me. I now took a curious interest in
the ruffian. He stood, glass in hand, at
the bar waiting for something stand
ing and waiting, I thought, as many a
time I have stood by a deer lick. " Y ou
are watching for game, my friend," 'I
said to myself. I watch him. The
door opens, and the furious wind, driv
ing the snow before it, rushed in, and
in the midst of the snowy shroud stood
Van Thusen. He stood stamping his
feet and shaking the snow from bis
clothing. A dozen men called out,
" How are you, Van? What luck fish
IngP" Some poker player called out,
"Four of a kind. Take a drink for
me, Van." With a nod and a smile the
handsome fellow stepped up to the bar.
As he asked for his liquor the ruffian,
with a vile oath, threw his untasted
whisky into Van Thusen's face. In
stantly the gambling ceased. Every
one turned on his stool and watched
Van Thusen. I saw many revolvers
drawn and silently cocked. A great
silence settled over the room. Standing
erect. Van Thusen drew a white hand
kerchief from his pocket and wiped the
liquor from his face. Then, ask
ing for water, he bathed his burn
ing eyes. Drying them, he replaced
his handkerchief in his pocket, and
looked at the man who had so outrage
ously insulted him. He looked into the
muzzle of a six-shooter looked beyond
it into the cowardly eyes of the brute
who held it. I saw Van Thusen gather
himself and heard him say, in a low,
clear voice: It may miss fire." Tak
ing the chance, a bright, heavy loaded
knife flashed out from the back of his
neck and with a forward stride he
struck a tremendous downward blow.
1 he sharp report of an exploding cap
and the body of the ruffian, with four
ribs cut off and a split heart, falling
dead, showed that Van Thusen had suc
cessfully taken the risk of a damp
charge or a dirty nipple. Washing off
the blood from his knife in a glass of
water, Van coolly remarked, "That
man was a coward. Now 1 will have
my whisky." He drank it and walked
over to me. Of course, I spoke my ad
miration of the courage he had shown.
" I am not aware that I have shown
any," he quietly remarked, but added,
with a flush that no one, unless it were
a drunken friend, could insult him with
out killing him or getting killed, and
then said softly : " Frank, I have never
insulted a man in my life." While we
were talking some men carried the dead
man into a back room. Some one
cleaned the door and the gambling was
Mentioning that I had to cross the
Bitter Root Mountains and ro to the
head waters of the Big Blackioot Kiver
as soon as thesstorm broke, Van Thusen
said he would go with me. He wanted
logo to the Sun Hirer Valley, anil to go
by the way -rf the Cad. die Paw, so tfie
trip up the Ulaekfoot Hirer would not
be out of his way. Next morning the
storm was over, and we rode eastward
over the Bitter Root Mountain., am) In
a few days were ramped on the twad
waters of the Big bla-kfoot. One sight
we lay under our blanket on a tiny
branch of the river, far up in the mount
ains. I was just dropping to slnrp
when the unearthly cries of a panther,
so like the streams of a distreaaed
woman that for an Instant I wis de
ceived, woke me thoroughly. We lay
awaae, listening to the cries, when Ed
asked me if I had ever seen a griztly
" Yes, I have seen the brute, and I
don't admire his physical or moral char
acteristics." Ed lay quint for a few minutes and
then said softly. "That animal is the
only thing on earth I fear." He stop
peel; then with a little nervous laugh
said: "Don't laugh at me and I will
tell you something." Without waiting
for me to reply he began :
" Once I was on my way for the
Kootenay Pass. I found a man alone
in a little log hut, lying sick on his bed.
I stopped to nurse him. That man had
shot at a grizzly bear with an old muzzle-loading
rifle. He bad missed a
deadly shot. The bear rushed for him.
He endeavored to climb a tree, and
thought he was far enough up to be safe
when the huge beast rose and struck
one blow at him, fairly tearing tho calf
of his leg into strings, but not knock
ing him out of his croteh. Once safely
in the tree, the man outxat the bear, or
the bear got tired or sick from his
wountl ; at any rate the animal went
away, and the man descended and
crawled to his little hunting lodge and
got into bed. I nursed In in until he
could hop on one leg. Then I shot a
deer for him and left him. I had re
solved to kill the first grizzly I saw. I
was armed with an Allen rille and had
plenty of cartridges. As you come up
into the Kootenay Pass there
is a patch of bare ground. A few
shrubs grow on the thin, shallow soil in
clumps. Around this open there is n
wan oi aense evergreen undergrowth.
Hiding up to the wall, I looked through
anil saw three great grizzly bears, ap
parently eatinir somethinir that thevduir
out of the ground with their huge claws.
Here was my chance. lying my horse
with a rawhide rone to a stout tree : rifle
in band, I crawled through the under-
orusn until l was within seventy yards
of the brutes. I rested my rifle on the
aeaa stun oi a umo mat stood out from
a pine and sighted at the heart of the
largest bear. Just as I was going to
pull the trigger there arose, as from out
of the ground in front of me, the hunt
ing hut of the wounded man I had
nursed. One side of the hut was gono.
I could see into it. I could see the bed,
the man on it, and (in almost a whis
per), Frank, I could see my
self binding and dressing the dread
ful wound. I dropped my rille.
The vision disappeared. Three
times I sighted. Three times in vivid
distinctness arose this apparition of the
past. It cowed me. I was afraid to
shoot. I crawled back to my horse. I
sat on him trembling with nervousness.
I was thoroughly ashamed of myself for
being such a coward. I skulked and
hid in the brush, like a oayote until
those bears went away." Then in a low,
earnest tone, " But I have resolutely de
termined to shoot the next bear I meet. "
For a few seconds he was silent, and
then, with a far-off look, softly added :
"And I really believe the bear will kill
me." With a distressed laueh he
jumped up, rebuilt the fire, and said :
" 1 am so nervous that 1 can't sleep.
Get up, Frank, and have one more fish
ing match with a man who is afraid of
a bear. Get up! I will fish you a
match ! Smallest fish cooks a midnight
supper." We fish and I cook the mid
night meal. Next morning we parted,
never to meet again, I rode west, he
east into the Sun Kiver country.
Years after, when in Bismarck, on
the Missouri, I went into a great log
saloon and there mot a party of Mon
tana gamblers who had come down the
river expecting to play cards along the
line of the Northern Pacifio Railroad.
Our greeting over, I asked after Ed.
Van Thusen. A silenoe fell over the
party. The hard men silently looked
into their empty glasses. At length
one said : " That strand young chap
was killed by a bear in the Marias Pass.
Here, bring us some whisky!" -this to
the bar-keeper. " Was the bear dead P' '
I asked. " Yes, a huge grizzly lay a
few yards from Ed, cut Xo bits almost
with a knife." I declined more whisky,
and sadly left the saloon. My friend
had met the fate he had foreseen,
Frank Wdkeson, in the If. T Sun.
The First Appearance of the Yankees
in Santa Fe.
The first American who seems to
have penetrated to New Mexico was
James Pursley an adventnous fur
trader who found his way up the Arkan
sas, traveled extensively through the
mountains of what is now Colorado,
and finally worked his way down to
Santa Fe, where he went to work as a
earpenter, growing rich through high
wages, but suffering always a feeling of
restraint. An occasional Frenchman
had appeared ; but Pursley (who, by-the-way,
is credited with being the first in
telligentjman who discovered gold in
the Rockies) was the sole oizen of the
United States who was there to welcome
the immortal Pike when, on that bleak
March day in 1806, he unwillingly
tramped into Santa Fe at the head of his
Falstaftian band, hatless, bootless, and
trouserless through a year's campaign
ing on the plains and in the mountains.
The Mexicans were greatly alarmed
by this sudden realization of the prox
imity of the progressive and well armed
Yankees, and their consternation re
sulted very unhappily for the few leaders
of that conquering tide that finally
should overwhelm the effete rule of
Spain In the New World ; yet for a long
time after Pike's expedition nothing oc
curred to frighten further the proud and
indolent hidalgos. Erm -t Tniirmll, tn
harper's for April.
There was a stormy meeting of the
Jewish congregation Beth Hamedrash,
in Chicago, the members being divided
on the question of retaining the Rev. L.
Anixer as rabbi. Max Nathan was
called to the obair, but he did not wish
to serve, and tried to escape from the
synagogue. The door was barred
against him, and he attempted to get
out through a window. Some of tne
contestants helped him, while others
held him back. A young woman grab
bed him by the buttons of his trousers,
and tugged so hard that the garment
suddenly came off in her hands. There
was a .flashing of red flannel drawers in
the sir as Nathan flew out of the win
dow, and the meeting was confusedly
In a will case tried the other day in
Dublin, it appeared that on the mar
riage of the testatrix she described her
self as being 32 years of age, whereas,
In reality, she was close on TO.
in Santa Fe. PUNGENT PARAGRAPHS.
' Rlng-killera shoot by Indirection;
they belie their name.
Life to Denis Kearney Is a sort of
ami lottery. Home HentituU.
Shipowners, strange lo say, gen
erally, prefer a wrecklusn Captain.
--Every woman has a grievous cross
lo bear, when her husband is cross as a
A cold In the head la one of the
sent things that can nappes to a lady
ith a lace handkerchief.
A man In Utah who has only the
'I gal number of wives is spoken of as
"comparatively speaking a bachelor!"
If early to bed and earlr to rle
Make a man helth and hrtirhtetv hi erea,
a hv don't Me HHtne rule roverti po-tiMrM?
Tnera la fiotblns llkw Uium fur mm early roaa.
Color blindness Is what ails half the
trotting homes In the country. They
think tliey see i:S() when they don't see
Boston girls cultivate a serio-comic
Style of repartee. They also cultivate
I mellow-dramatlo style of baked
, Hundreds of years ago butter was
sed for illuminating purposes. And
some parngraphbtts still real's light of
It Norrutown Jletnld.
Put away hl Praelt-braln pitrxle
He nun rllwlM! trie asylum atalri
Numlter 1 :a 14
Turned bl bead and sew t him there.
f 'LUn titnurver.
If the Czar had been a punctual
Dian, says the Baltimore Scw, he would
lying in state now, surrounded by
his similarly lnid-o.it family.
, In spite of the fact that the use of
ojiera-glanses is prohibited by Qnecn
ictoria when she appears in public,
the Princess Louise sticks to her Lome
yet. Suggestion by the Danbury b'ewt:
" When you have got through using
your puz.lcs give them to the poor.
We must get rid of the poor some
A young lady in Brooklyn is work
ing a motto, "No Ice-Cream." She
'ays: "You know it is leap year, and
the lee crop's a failure, and the boys
might as arell know it first as last."
"Yls, yer rivorenee, all thiol samcs
he called mu, an' sex I: 'I wouldn't de
mane nieself to lose me timperwitl such
a low blackgyardV so I jutt knocked
him over wid the stick, and come
The patent specific man who boldly
itdvertlses "We challenge the world
is, ten chances to one, a poor craven
wretch without the courage to kill a
flea or try his own medicine. Boston
A Rhode Island man, who left a son
and daughter penniless that be might
give Harvard College fifty thousand
dollars, had his will bursted so quick
that it almost turned his grave around.
Detroit Free Vess.
' I wonder where dear Ichabod can
be this evening; it's after nine o'clock
now," said Mrs. Smiley, as she shaded
her eyes with her hand against the
window pane. " Gone on some merce
nary errand or other, I believe. He's a
real good, charitable soul, and its lust
lib. I, in. "
mKv uiuii vvvtuni vvui nit
Thirteen at Dinner.
It is idle, of course, to fight super
s tition with logic, but when a presum
ably sane man gravely seta forth in the
London Whitehall Beview "the simple
facts in the case of the death nf Dr,
Fairbanks, one of Queen Victoria's
physicians, and these simple facta are
that the dead man was the first to sit
down and the first to rise again at a
dinner where me diners numbered
thirteen, it is, perhaps, worth while to
direct attention to the way in which
such superstitions are nourished.
Dr. Fairbanks died the next morning
after the dinner mentioned. After
that, therefore because of that, argue
the superstitious. So it always is.
Men are quick to note and to comment
upon a coincidence of occurrence with
superstition, but they rarely rememoer
the cases in which snch coincidences
fail to come about, Yet every logical
mind must feel thnt a hundred fulfill
ments of such an augury with one
failure of fulfillment must discredit the
augury; while in practice superstitious
persons argue upon a precisely con
trary assumption, namely, that a hun
dred failures count for nothing against
a single fulfillment.
Mr. Whitelaw Reid In conversation
related some bits of experience upon
this1 point of thirteen at dinner not long
ago, one of which is worth reporting as
an offset to the Whitehall Bevicw't
story. At the time of the Shepard
Ring scandals In Washington Mr. Reid
dined one day at a gonlleiuan's house in
that city. . There were just thirteen per
sons at the table, ,aad die fact was com
mented upon. During the dinner Mr.
Reid was served witii a writ of arrest
in one of the Vexatious suits by .nutans
of which oertaia persons at the Capital
sought to punish nira for the- fW i
boldness of speech, and this nn toward
event appeared, according to the super
stition, to mark Mr. Reid as the doomed
thirteenth guest. The superstition be
ing thus brought to mind, Mr. Reid
made a list oi Bie persons present, and
although thei diane eocurred! good
many years ago there is not one of its
Suests who is not in sounder health to
ay than he was at the time when the
thirteen dined together.
One such tact as this is a complete,
logical refutation of the teaching of the
superstition; and such refutations occur
frequently; yet it is certain that one
such story aa that of Dr. fairbank's
death will undo the salutary work of a
score of carefully-noted cases in which
the thirteen survive. Men are weak
and foolish, and superstition is stronger
than logic, and cowardice is a common
er quality than philosophy.
The fact , is that when aa many as
thirteen persons of middle aga, selected
withou; referenoe to their bodily health,
oome together, it is not far Horn an
eieii chance '.:.u tcdie one ol 'he niiui
berwill die wthi'i the rertr, m the nat
ui'al order "f thin ;s, nt,d it i:hu M.::u
' r..j. J .
.' -"M -1 ,
' 'II "S il, :.:.
t.-l is; r ii it:
,!- it , " W I'.vi
' - ill, Jut
' . ,y 1.
r ii '.cftyf
-..I 1'. I .nlU .
A , ii'-- 1 I ', I .' '
.( I f...t.. ii
' "i'V- '.'' u
lc I. v,, ..j ---'vr ki
te Ufa rathai a death tb4 ought to
occupy attetuui,., and Blunt us have
enough to d to keep our ! Ives what
they ought tv hv.-r-X r.
For Young Readers.
LOST. A BOY.
fie went from tho old bome tvarthittona
Inly two year atf'i,
A iMiirtilnr. rollick i,i( fellow
It would do you rood to know.
Slnfe then we hav not keen htm.
And we nay. with a nHiiii.i 4ln,
TV- hoy that we knew and loved ko
Wa kball sorer aee ajrata.
One bearing- the name we garc hlia
Cornea h'imetouk to-dar.
Flttt thlk In not the dear fellow
We klteefl and eent away.
Tail aa the ,nnn he call, father.
With a man'k look In hl frw-e,
fe he who tkka by the heart batons
'1 he lost boy's oUlen plaoa.
We retea the latttrh that made innate
Whorerer the IkM boy went.
Thlk man haa a kmile moot wfnaotna,
lllk eyea havea rrare Intent:
We know he tk thinking and ulannlna;
If Ik way In the world of men,
And we eanntrt help rait love him.
Hut we lornr for iur"t Strain.
are nroud of tbla mnnlr fellow
With htriU .f thft Vrtf...hl .K-y'h'rOd.
wno eomea to take blk vlaon.
in ni- rnr. th'mirhtrtil fflon,
Afi1 j-i-t (mtt-ii ru k th- I'mrinr
Jor iiv hf.r we mint hn-forth mt,
V bom we .. tit ihv f mm the brtbtone
rnrfxr-r with a kn.
Kln lU-rf'ini, in Y'mtth'u Vompankm,
m es -
THE GRUMBLER'S BOOK.
For several davs Anna Parker had
been crows. Nothing seemed to be as
it should be. The sun shone too bright-
ly, or not nnghtlv enough; the grass
should have been blue, inxtoadof green,
and the sky green, instead of blue. At !
church she observed that the minister's
necktie was awry, the singing bad, the ,
organ out of tune, and "the old chun h !
never looked so shabby and old-fashioned
before. " At home, they "never
had things as other folks had them."
The parlor carpet was old-fashioned
ami worn, every room in the house was
too small, and she was "tired to death
of those everlasting old stoves, when
everybody else In town has grates."
The same spirit of complaint wentwith
bcr to sehool, where she found cross
teachers, lessons longer than had ever
before been given, and " no sense in
" What sense can there be In that in
tolerable Vienna. lnKiwf. mr.ntrr, mrn
snn, vienm, tnensa, I should like to
"jlnna, Annir, Amur, Annum! What
has eome over the spirit of yourdreants
lately? It seems to me you've been an
accusative Case long enough. Can't
something be done to remove the blue
glasses from your eyes, so you may see
things as they really are?" This from
" That girl mnst be miserable in order
to be happy," remarked Uncle John, as
Anna left the room.
Fred resumed his reading. He was
following Captain Burnaby on his "Ride
to Khiva," and had just finished the
Captain's account of riding "a camel in
love," when he overheard his petulant
sister severely reprimanding a certain
geranium, which had obstinately refused
" See here. Sis," he called, "you've
found some fault with everything that
has crossed your path for a week past;
and I'll acknowledge I've worn blue
glasses a part of the time myself. It
relieves one immensely to say just what
he thinks once in a while, and I must
confess I rather enjoy it. However, I
am aware that mater-familiat is not at
all pleased with some of the outsoken
neas indulged in by her children, and
I've been casting about for some plan
which would enable you and I to sputter
to our hearts' content, and still not
offend the mother; and I've hit on just
surn a plan, w ant to near it r"
The serio-comic air with which Fred
delivered this speech brought a smile to
Anna s face, in spite of her efforts to
keep on a frown; and curiosity to learn
his ' plen" prompted her to give an
" Well." said Fred, turning back a
lew pages in his " Kiue to lUiiva,"
"listen to this. Captain Burnaby,
describing the station-houses along the
road which he traveled in Russia, savs,
among other things: 'A book in which
to inscribe complaints was kept, and
any traveler who felt himself aggrieved
would write down nis grievance, which
would be subsequently investigated by
an inspector, whose duty it was to per
form this task once a month.' Now, I
propose that you and I keep a grum
bler's book, and, instead of spitting out
our grievances as fast as they come to
us, causing the mother a sore heart and
ever' body else a great deal of annoy
ance, we will write them in this book
Then we will constitute Uncle John in
spector, and it shall be his duty to In
vestigate the contents of the grumbler's
book every Saturday night, in the pres
ence of the entire family. What do
you say to writing a book in this way?"
Fred was obliged to wait a moment
for a reply to his question. The fact
was, Anna did not feel at all inclined to
favor this projeot, for she realized that,
in a measure, the so-called satisfaction
arising from speaking one's complaints
would be lost in an attempt to write
them; for really there was more truth
than there seemed to be in Uncle
John's remark that she " must be mis
erable in order to be happy." All
grumblers will understand this. More
over, the idea that all her complaints
for a week were to be brought before
the family every Saturday night did not
seem to her quite a pleasant one. Still,
after a moment or two, she remarked
to Fred that if he was willing to do his
grumbling In this way she would under
take it, too; and the matter was settled.
On the following Monday morning a
blank book was given to Fred by nis
uncle, and placed Fred and Anna only
knew where. Mrs. Parker was not in
the "secret," and, as day after day
passed and no word of complaint was
heard from either Fred or Anna, her
surprise almost equaled her delight.
Only a mother placed in exactly the
same situation can realize what a week
that was for Mrs. Parker.
Saturday night on me in dne time. All
were gathered " round the evening
lamp," busied in- various ways, Mrs.
l'ai ner, Uncle John and Fred absorbed
In their occupations. Anna, however,
appeared restless as a leaf, taking up
now tins, now that piece of work, turn
yng the leaves of several books, but too
uneasy to undertake to read; and hual
.y she was forced to inquire:
"Fred, will the inspector attend to
lis duty to-night?"
' Mrs. Parker glanced at Anna with a
vondering look, evidently bewildered
iy her question; and she was not at all
''nlightened when Fred, closing his
!'On, remarked, with a merry twinkle
n his eye:
( "Guess, as he's a Russian personage,
'ie's either frozen to death or has been
lating too much."
' I ncle John laid aside his writing,
,nd, looking up. with a laugh, said:
. ., " Bring the book, Fred, and the lu-p-ctor
will be ready for duty at once,
.on know. Sister," he continued, as
. 'red left the room, " that Fred has a
literary turn of mind, and his-great am
bition is to write a book. Well, he has
commenced his book this week."
" My book, rather," interrupted
.Vina; "forl've written nearly all of it."
The far la," ewitiniied (Joel John,
Fretl haa read somewhere of a grum
bler's bok, kept at the stalion-housos
Russia,; and lie anil Antia have con
cluded to keep a hook of complaints,
and thus enjoy the pleasure of grum
bling without annoying others. 1 be
lieve the Riiaaiaus hitve Inspectors to
inveatigate their grumblers books at
stated times, and these young people
have asked me to take up this role,
making my Investigation every Satur
This aromita. then, for the small
amount of fnnlt-tinding I have heard
this week. Well," as Fred came in
with the book, whien ho gave U his
uncle, " if we must hare complaints,
let us hear them In a lump, once a
Uncle John began to read from the
e Mownar MonwtNO. I'm trotntf tn grumble
first atiout thlk liook. I'maurebrthe time I
get around to write tnr eomplaltita they
well. It dm't ki-em to me I mn evt-r uritt koute
things I can kav Just as enay aa not.
"1 might preach a short sermon
here;," remarked Uncle John, ' taking
for my text Think twice before you
speak;' but we hare no time now for
sermons. However, I will say that I
am sure, If we would take tho time for
second thought, we would often find
it as hard to speak our complaints as
to write them."
TYtwltAr. Kverythlng la wrong again, to.
day. In the flrkt. plaoe, Jennie Hani k aunt,
Mrk. tirevaon, wrto Ik a weeehy I'hllftdelphta
lady, rulled thlk morning; and I uould think
of nothing while ktoe was hero but thnt niher
able pkilor niiriet. That oll-fahloned thing
Ikthetinne of my life. Then th afternoon
Marr Turner came to ae if I would take
ntuklc 1e.Hor.k- Hbe'k one of the 'puf- but
h'rtit-t' kind -good aa khe ran he.' every
Inwlykav"; lait khe d-ekl dren ko horridly I
noertafce any enmfort near her. I do be-lli-ve
khe haa worn that old alpaca for a let
dreas for four ream. AA."
"1 think the parlor carpet and Miss
Turner's dress must be looked after,"
remarked Uncle John. " It is really
quite a scnous matter when a carpet
becomes so old-fashioned and a dress
so shabby as to spoil any young lady's
happiness for a whole day.
-Tl'rsnr. I'm mad ak s hornet this after
noon, and I'm glad 1 have a grumbler k book
to .i-rve aa a vent tbnmirh wblrh my pent-up
wrath may en-ape. All the lioyk age going to
tlie moiintaltik tifxt week, to etiuip out. flh.
and bave a Jolly time In general: and I've gut
to klay at bnme and help In the ktore. hecau-e
f'nele Tim Ik g.ilng to I'hleairo. I feel thlk-.
morning aa though 1 era.ld eaelly lie Wrat In
war. but never lt peace; and I don't care a
fig for the beurtk of my countrymen If 1
can't go Camping with tbc other boy.
"I would advise this warlike young
man to console himself, as did Captain
Marryatt's "Jacob Faithful,' with the
reflection that he should have 'better
luck next time,' " said Uncle John, clos
ing the book.
"Are these all the complaints we
have this week?" asked Mrs. Parker.
" I find nothing more in the book,"
replied Uncle John.
"The fact is, I've grumbled all the
week about one thing, said Fred. " I
might have written every day the com
plaint I made on Tuesday."
Anna was silent a moment; then,
looking up somewhat confusedly, said:
"Most of my complaints this week
seemed so ridiculous, when I sat down
to write them, that they have re
mained both unspoken and unwrit
ten." William Horrit Burr, in H. Y.
In Canterbury Cathedral.
The next day I went again to the ca
thedral. The gloomy sky of the night
had harbingered a heavy mass of clouds
which were now descending in a copi
ous but fine and gentle raiu. The ca
thedral was deserted. Even the verger
was not there. He was represented by
his daughter, who stepped up to me,
and asked, with a little emphasis.
"Would you like to see the Cathedral
again, sir?" I said yes, of course; and
she went with me to the gate of the
choir, which she opened. All at once
the wish arose to be there without even
her attendance (there was not another
person in sight), and I asked h,T if she
could not let me go in by myself. She
looked at me a moment with sweet,
steady blue eyes, and said, "I think I
may let you go, sir." She shut the
gate behind me. As I turned away I
heard the key creak and the bolt shot.
Then a great silence fell upon me; I
walked slowly on until I stood before
the high altar; and there I was, alone in
that dim magnificence.
I made little nse of my liberty. I
was not there to mouse among antiqui
ties, or to study architecture. Details
seemed petty to me, enveloped in that
astness, and whelmed in the flood of
those associations. I did go to the Black
Prince's tomb, and, although I am no
relic-monger, as I stood by it I longed to
touch one of those gauntlet. But I soon
wandered back to die great altar, and sat
down upon lh- - pj. The day was dark,
and notwit'. n. iinR the pale color of
the wall? : u v:jt space was tilled " -the
dusk of twilight. I d;d md) - "
this grand jvloora with fi-rure-'
deea I d' t ii 'i.ih is merj
one; bur 1 did li.iuK, at on
foreloouid not have tlioii-r5
much good and the little ir
mine of whu h that noble-
4rn and a wiine.is. .i.erJ
a witness, juer
ne- but wi."' '-ri
at ' The'ot
K 1 1 ni a came
age to mint
data' Journey t
reverence to th tmi.ul
sand miles to u4 L
my people w m boff
should have b
nor a heather
taken all men
teen hundred ,
than I am;
no Alfred, box
Sidney, no lia
Milton, no i
no habeas co-tf
English 4w; i
does more tha
apparel out, d
the nature tht
for him. A m
forces whirh w
centuries by or
over v laeh hisr'
wors ' i nve but
And, ' hus sit if
at Camei bury,
what was tor n
mal. the begin)
tainly the be-j
Two young m
lug in New York
iauship of the Br.
love with a hand
and, not being
i v V (-J
tinue to tf"
bA l,lv '
tempt to 1