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|h " WINNSBQRO, S. C., WEDNESDAY, JULY 8, 1885. NO 25. A Memory. An old-world coun^ ~arden, where the H hours Like winded sunbeams ii_-n in trlory by. And where the scent of strange, oid-1'ashioned flowers Brings back a tender bygone memory. The walks are straight, and patterned with wj?*~ ~ stone. And pacin.t there with reverential tread, I dream o*??e more I hold within my own fi The soft <rarm lingers of the child who's H. Ocsto? ! wU/NCA -O/>/>fcfnTAC T*iorl Tvlth O-iiU J* UVCV LJ ?*vv? ...... r mir?. As we to? chased the srolclen butterflies? 1^ The child who reveled in the bright sunshine, / And shrined her gladness in her laughing K3S[iS^ eyo?: Sag [g?- we used to linger in the lone soft grass. And when c sun-ray kissed her dimpled hand, k We told cach other 'twas a fairy puss ??Sr '"--To read the secrets of our Fairyland: And, holding safely in her radiant face That happy sparkle, we would run to peep If dewdrops trembled in the self-same place, k Or last night's bud had blossomed in its sleep. And whispered love-names in the baby ears; She made the glory of the Summer's day. My wso liese lady of but five short years! And now? Small wonder that the roses lie In petaled fragrance by the dasies' side. For sunshine vanished with tier last soft sigh, And skies are grayer since our darling died. . ?Chamber's Journal ^ITTLE NAN'S FORTUNE. ' 4 "Come in," called Miss Morrin in her pleasant voice. So the door opened and Little Xan. & song-and-dance artiste, appeared on 't the threshold. Her thick red hair was twisted in a tight knot on the top of her head, a row of curl-papers fringed her forehead, little dabs of powder were left on her cheeks, her calico Mother Hubbard was faded, and there was a long jT- rent in the skirt. She came timidly y into the room a^ci laid a large white >'N *?velope down on the table. ^qiiiekly > -p , took up the attractive white envelope. L It contained a birthday card, a very w pretty card. On one side were a landscape and a solitary bird on the branch of a tree, and on the other were printed the following verses: There's gloom without, but there's cheer within. Sollicking shout and rattling: din. * They kiss, pood kick! with a rare good will! Each lucky Jack has a darling JUL It's a trifle hard, (as I think you'll see), On a lonely, scarr'd old bird like me. ??A /VM Viiiv? KL-o mo!" repeated Miss Morrin to herself. "Yes, *1 am getting to be an old bird, v ^ 1 ara 35 to-day ana James is 38. We are both growing old and are no nearer being married than we were ten years ago. Twenty-five is rather late in life to enter upon along engagement. But I would rather wait for James than marry a millionaire. Dear James! He ) thinks it is his duty to stay in Maine and preach to those poor, uneducated people when he might be pastor of a rich church with a salary large enongh to support us all. Of course it is his first duty to care for his mother and sifter. Unfortunately I am poor too. I wku I had a few hundred dollars to buy a claim or grub-stake some poor prospector. If i was a man I would take a pick and go up on the mounk tains and dig; but being a woman all . l'can do is to wait. I wonder what made that child give me this card. I never spoke to her until this morning. They say she dances at the theatre, i and "with a shudder at the thought Miss I. V >C : ? 5," FdLLUlllU >y cuu Uix lcauui^ Down-stairs in the office of the Grand Hotel old Billy was smoking his pipe. > He wore long boots that came to his knees, corduroy pants, and a flannel shirt His broad-brimmed felt hat was tipped over his eyes. He had tilted his arm-chair- against the wall and thrust his hands into his pockets. "It's her birthday, and I give her a card," Little Nan was saying. "She said good mornin' when I metheron. the stairs. Hain't she sweet? Bet your J life! It was a stuanin' card. There ^ was a bird on a tree and the bird was savin' po'try. It said somethin' 'bout S bein' a scarr'd old bird." , * "By ginger!" exclaimed old Billy, "you've went and done it this time." Then he chuckled. "Didn't you knowshe was an old maid ?a regular Yankee schoolraa'm? Why didn't you pick out a nice piece 'bout young love and forget-me-don'ts, and all that kind o' thing." "It was a mighty pretty card and dirt cheap," answered* Little Nan disconsolately. "She wouldn't think I was pokin' fun at her, would she?" looking up anxiously. "Reckon not," said old Billy, "you wouldn't find it out if she did. She's an up and down lady. This 'ere camp's no place for. her." There hain't another one of her kind to keep her company. Ought to send fur her sis-" ter, or eousm, or somethm. Uon t see what brung her way out here to keep school" Little Nan gazed in the fire with her large blue eyes. "She hain't like us," she said slowly. "She hain't a bit like us." The school children were troublesome the next day. Miss Morrin tried coaxing, then scolding; and finally was strongly tempted to resort to corporal punishment. But she was slight and frail, and there were some large boys in the school. On her way home at noon she decided she was still far from being fit for a minister's wife. There were letters from Maine on her table. Old Mrs. Jones had died at last?she was 93?and there had been a church sociable. Sister Man* had saved enough e^-rnonev to buy herself a black cashmere dress. She" thought of having it' made with a kilted skirt and a polonaise. It was a long time since Mary had bought a new dress, Miss Morrin remembered. Just then a woman clad in velvet and sealskin passed the Grand. Six months before, this same robust female had been glad to wash, flannel shirts for the miners. Her "old man" had just struck it rich. And down in Maine Sister Mary was seKing eggs and hoarding up every nickel in order to buy herself a plain cashmere dress. "Please ma'am," interrupted Little Nan. having knocked again at Miss Morrin's door. "Will you come and look at old Billy? He's talkin' to himself and his fuce is red a" the deuce." -The what?' said Mi&s Morrin, .somewhat shocked. "I said his face was red." repeated Little Nan, innocently. ; -> Miss Morrin silently followed Nan aeross the hali to a small room plainly furnished. Old Billy lay quietly on the bed, a patchwork quilt over him, and his head on a dirty pillow. Sb looked up as they entered. "Good mornin'," he said with an effort. "Ik's so dark I can't see yon." "I'll raise the blind," said Miss Morrin. "Then I pass," murmured old Billv. i,YT~ ? u -j >1 ___ -\q.? iuxuix5 uu s piuym poser, ex' plained Little Nan, in a whisper. "He don't know what he's sayin'. Would you mind sittin' with him while I git the doctor?" ; / . g<:r- . . . 9" : - '". v ' >' v .. . \ As she left the room old Billy put his hand on Miss Morrin's arm." For a moment he was quite himself. "Please git me a pencil and bit of paper," he said eagerly. "Quick!" Silently Miss Morrin rose and crossed the hall to her room. When she returned she handed a sheet of tinted note-paper and a long Faber pencil to the sick man. With an effort old Billy raised his head and Miss Morrin piled up the dirty pillows behind him. He wrote a few lines feebly; then the pencil dropped from his hand. He thrust the bit of paper under the pile of pillows and drew the patchwork quilt well around his shoulders. Still he shivered slightly. "I'm so cold and tfred," he murmured. Then a sweet peace seemed to steal over his face. His eyes closed and he fell gently asleep. But he never woke again in this world. The day of the funeral Little NatL came to Miss Morrin's room with a basket of bright flowers on her arm. * "Will you please help me to fix the flowers?" she asked while the tears came to her eyes. "I want to make a wreath for old Billy." "Sit down," said'MLss Morrin, kindly and drew a rocking-chair toward the fire. . Then^jhe turned to her trunk, and, after^some search, came back to her visitor with a roll of fine wire in her hand. Tenderly she lifted the flow! Tho-ro wnro rorl rncoc inH Tlinlc I and scarlet geraniums, and a few sprigs _ of.green. - "Old Billy liked bright flowers,11 said | /Little Nan. "He used to throw 'em to j * me often." ?: "What do you do at the theatre?" asked Miss Morrin hesitatingly. "I'm a song and dance artiste," an- | swered Nan proudly. "I sing songs and dance." ? "Do?do ladies attend?" "No, ma'am; only men." Miss Morrin shuddered. "And jou like to sing and dance before them?" she said severely. "Not much, ma'am; I git awful tired | sometimes." "Then, my child, why not earn your . living some other way? It would be hpftpr rr> srvrnh flonrs all dav Inner." 1""~v ?~ ~? J o "But they wouldn't pay mc I no thin'." "What matter?" began Miss Morrin virtuously. "But I send my money home, pretty near even' dollar," said Little 2san. "There's six of 'em besides me. My mother's dead. Father don't git but half-wages now. Fve earned a heap the last two years, since I've bin dancin'. I'm the oldest one. I'm lS. There's two dead between me and Willie. He's 12. Jennie, she's 10 and the baby's 2. Jennie has an easier time than I had takin' care of 'em. They're up and out of the way now." The wreath was finished before Miss Morrin'spoke again. "Who taught you to dance?" she said suddenly. "A man my father knew. He had a theatre. I've a standin' engagement at the Central. Old Billy was awful good to me. I never saw him before I come here, but he kinder took to me. He was poor, too. He had a claim up me mountain, out- ? guess u<; uevet struck it. He never sold much ore, anyhow. Haint that a beautiful wreath ? Billy would think it was stunnin'. He always liked everything bright. When the funeral was over and they had all returned to the Grand Hotel, Little" Nan threw herself on her bed and cried piteousiy. Miss Morris heard her sobbing, and, entering her room, tried to comfort he*. Presently cNan sat up. "I must dress," she said, wearily. "It must be late." Her long hair fell around her and silently Miss Morrin took a brush and began to smooth its bright strands. Then Nan put on hef shawl and hopd. "I'll git 'em to let me sing 'Under , the Daises,' " she said, suddenly. "Old Billy always liked it He used to nntil TM f?nmA nn? at><3 sine it fnr him. Maybe he'll hear it to-night." "Maybe he will," answered Miss Morrin with tears in her eyes. "I'm snre he will!" " mm* * * Spring came. The snow that had lain for months on the mountains began to melt slowly and prospectors talked of grub-stakes. Old Billy's claims had not been disturbed since he died. Iso one supposed them of any value. It was known that he was without wife or children. One day the chambermaid of the Grand found a shetfc of tinted paper behind the bed in the room that had once been old Billy's. She was a lazy, careless girl, and the paper had lain undisturbed for more than three months. As she could not read wxi?ing;she carried ' it to Little Nan. But Little Nan herself could not resxl writing readily. She glanced at the few lines on the paper and spelled - out the name William Struthers at the bottom 01 tne page. "Maybe its somethin' 'bout his claims. I'll take it to Mr. Nickleson He can. read it right off." So on her way. to rehearsal Kan stepped into Mr. Nickleson's office and handed him the little sheet of pink-tinted paper. It took the smart lawyer from Boston but a. moment to discover that he held old Billy's last will and testament k in his hand. ; y "Did you read it?" he asked, glancing keenly at Little Nan. "I didn't have time to spell it out," answered Nan. "There's nothin' 'bout me ii} it, is there?" _ . "He's left his claims to you," said, the lawyer. "They may not be worth much, but they are yours: I'll find out about them and let you know."' "Don't hurry yourself," called out Nan as she shut the door. "Dear old Billy!" she thought "He did all he could for me when he was livin' an' i men newenuana ieitme tnem noxes m the ground. Bet your life they haint r- worth a cent He never sold-no ore from 'em. A week later when Little Nan called again at Mr. Niekleson's office the lawyer made her his very best "bow. "Take a chair," he said nervously. Then he cleared his throat. "My dear' Miss Malony," he be<ran. "I have some?I may say, ?."He darted-into the adjoining room and returned with a glass of water. "Drink this and then I have something to tell yon." "Fire away," answered Kan. "I haint tbursty." v j ? j v * i? "Caar'yoir bear wood news?!! asked the lawyer solemnly. , . ' '^Tever'li'ad none"" said Little Nan. "I have discovered," went on the lawyer, "that old Billy's claims are quite valuable; in fact he must have made a big strike some time ago. but for some reason of his own he took out very little ore. Still he uncovered a very fine body of mineral. I have just i o AfTor fnr ifL * * i ? "How much?" asked Nan shortly. "Three hundred thousand dollars in cash," replied the lawyer slowly. / -- "That's a heap o' money," said Nan coolly. "Think I could git anv more fur it?" "Well, you'll begetting a-fair sum," answered the lawyer dryly. '"Itwould take you several^ars to earn as much. I think you had better.'accept the offer." j "I don't have to divide with you, do | I?" said Nan shrewdly: "See here, j Give me ?300,000 and I'll sell. You'll make a lot out of it, some way, bet your life. But mind, I want it all in 1 money. I won't have no checks. They mighn't be good." "In money!" gasped the lawyer. "Have you any idea how big a pilo I 08AA fMVl vL-r>n1<) mo.L-o?" "No," said Nan," but I reckon I | could lag it off some way. But I won't ; take no checks until I find out whether they're good or not. There's noboby cheats rue and old Billy!" "Come tomorrow," said the lawyer, "and I'll have the papers ready to sign." ft I :< The next day at noon Miss Morrin had just seated herself to read a Maine paper wheu there cunie a knock that had grown famiiiar. Little Nan walked in quietly, and seating herself rocked ! restlesly back and forth. "Is your father rich?" she asked, suddenly. "No," answered Miss Morrin. "He's a poor farmer. That's why I'm ont here teaching school." "Like to teach?" "I get very tired sometimes," sighed Miss Idorrin. "The children are so troublesome." "You know a lot about liggers, don't you?" said Nan. "Three hundred : thousand dollars is a pretty good pile, hain.t it?" "Weil, yes," smiled Miss Morrin. "We would call a man with as much as that very rich out in Maine." " 'Taintmuch fur here," said Nan a little contemptuously. "You don't call ?25,000 much, do you?" "It would be nice to have," said Miss Morrin. Then she sighed. How happy that modest sum would make : her and James! i "Do- roa ?it much fur teachin?" | asked Little 2* an, abruptly. "Xo, but I manage to get along and I send some money home, just as you ! do." \- Nan rocked back and forih?back and forth. ' I'm goin' home to-night,".she said, suddenly. "I reckon I'll take the 12 o'clock train. I shan't never forget you," she added softly. "I took a shine to you the d:iy you spoke to me on the stairs. There haint many ladies in this 'ere camp, and none of 'em speaks to me. Old Billy liked you. too." She rose and crossed the room, then ; paused. "Thankyou fur bein' kind to me!" and for the "last time the door closed upon Little Nan. During the following day an envelope bearing the stamp of the First National Bank was handed Miss Morrin. She hastily tore it open, and there fell out a check for $25,000. But although she followed up every clew she could never discover the whereabouts of the sender. The interest of his wife's private fortune is a great help to the Rev. James Wetherill, who is still a poor minister in Maine. Seen In Kremlin. * I heard and read a great deal about the Kremlin, but had no distinct idea of what it was like until I saw it ;I. had no idea of its vast extent; that within its walls were contained palaces, churches, monasteries and arsenals. The walls surrounding all these structures are of vast thickness. At frequent intervals are watch towers of fanciful design, and the battlement are all loop holed for the discharge of missiles. Inside is the Red Square, so called from the thousands of judicial murders there . committed, and in the center of it is a group of statuary called "The Prince and Moujik." There are many entrances into the Kremlin, but the principal one is !the Redeemer Gate, which is considered a holy place, on account of a certain famous statue which finds lodging in one of its niches. When passing through this portal every one is supposed to take off his hat. The Convent of the Ascension is a strange freak of architectural fancy, but beautiful withal. Near it is a place where the holy oil is manufactured, with which all Russian children are baptized. Around the arsenal arc hundred of cannon taken from the French, and there I saw that immense piece of ordnance called the Bang of Cannon, but which, like the King of Bells, also in the Kremlin, is tit for nothing but show. r ^ J -.1. _ __a.l 3 1 JLne JLYan lower uuu. iue uaifleurax, with its numberles.; costly thrones, are both monuments of human skill. It is in this cathedral that the Czars of Russia crown themselves, no other than their own hands being considered fit for the holy office. The palace, which has an unpretentious appearance outside, being coated with stucco, is of great extent. It contains the St. George's Hall and numberless suits of apartments for the guests of royalty. The throne of the Czar was shown to me, and as 1 stood looking at it I almos't trembled as I thought of the undisputed sway, of the limitless power of life and" death over a hundred millions of people, which he v.*ho had occupied it a few days before held.? John L. Stoddard. . , s vi fT' i - ; ? - rz After G,*tty -!s.? After the battle of Geity-l-urg, when le baffled confederates. u>.tu. weary, iieartsore, were recrossin^ iiic Potomac at dusk, many were ?rr.?:;':ini?, some were cursing, while the majority felt too unhappy to express themselves boisterously. Finally they went into camp, cooked their frugal meal, and settled down to a grim ?juarrel with fortune or lasped into >.ulien silence. All at once, swelling melodiously through the summer air, came a noble, resonant tenor voicc sin^iusr "Give Me a Cot in the Valley I Love. ' The soldiers listened with rapture and the dear vision of home turned the bitterness in their hearts to sweetness and peace. All blasphemy, anger and unutterable anguisii ceased. By the power of song Heaven descended upon I Lit; I XiWA 1U V11V1JL WVJUUi, ifcLiVO. when the ballad lulled into an echo, dying plaintively away, it was as if an angel had passed and touched the valiant men in gray with the healing of his wing.?J. B. li. The.Superintendent of Education in New Haven came to the conclusion recently that many-of the lady teachers wrote so carelessly that they were not fit to teach writing. The* result' was an order that they attend on Saturdays (their weekly holiday) for an hour's practice. This has provoked a perfect tempest, and the mildest epithet applied to the superintendent by pretty, pontine; lips is "The mean, horrid old or r>1oim f.-uv flint tViPtr """o* --~~J ?? ?-> J write better than he does,: which is more likely.?Hartford TimesisX-Zxh-tA .'<,V ;? TRAIN TALK. A young man who had introduced himself to a lady by raising the window for her was glibly talking of his travels. He had been in a good many places during his life-time, hadn't forgotten an}' of them and didn't seem to miss one in his account. He was so much interested in his conversation that he failed to notice the lady's frequent yawning and other palpable evidences that she was feeling bored. "As for the water," he said, "I just love the water. I am a splendid sailor. I Never have any trouble at all. Never got scared. They used to call me a regular old salt. I?" "But you never sailed on the saltwater, did you?" "Yes; yes, indeed. Many a time. But why did you ask?" "Oh, I was merely thinking that vou hadn't" i "Hello, old man, where are you | bound?" inquired the conductor of an acquaintance in the smoking car. "Going back East," was the response, | rather sourly. "Have you quit railroading out in Idaho?" "Yes, I have." "What's the matter?" "Oh, I don't want to run a locomotive in a country where towns die off so fast that in the place where we get our dinners one day the next day we stop as usual and look all around, but not a shanty is to be seen. - I like my dinners regularly, I do, and no more Idaho in mine, please." The smoking car of an incoming train was full of passengers. It was also full of hot air. "Hear we're goin' to have cholera this summer," remarked one passenger to his seat-mate. "Shouldn't wonder." "Well in that case I think it is every man's duty to clean up an' git things in readiness to fight tSe scourge." "Do you mean to do that yourself?" "Yes, I do." "Vei7 good. Don't lose any time about it, either. You will find a bathroom right across the street from the depot" "Here's an item in the paper," remarked a Wisconsin farmer, "that says it costs 42 cents to stop a train." "Voe air cr'nat. show on careful investigation." "Well, if that's the figure most ofthe roads get off cheap. Up our way a train is stopped every few nights, and it always costs the company from $50 up. Nicest way for us poor farmers to work off sick cows or played out horses ever you saw." "More Afghan troubles, I see," remarked a passenger from St. Louis; "and that reminds me of the first Afghan trouble I can remember." "When was that?" "Many years a?;o. I took two St. Louis girls out sleigh-riding one cold night and both of 'em tried to cover their ears with c. j Afghan, it couldn't be done and war followed." "It's rather strange," observed a passenger from Pittsburg, - -that England should send clear over to Missouri to buy mules for use in the Soudun. I wonder what that's for?" "Tactics, my dear sir, tactics," replied a military looking man. "England's policv in Ejrvpt is to zet up close to the enemy and"then turn tail and retreat slowly and in good order. Here is where the mule is expectcd to get in his work." "Well this is mighty discouraging," said a young man as he looked up from his paper. "1 read here that old, banged-up, broken nosed pitchers are a drug in the market, and are worth only SO cents apiece." ( "What's that to you? Have you been speculating in decorative relics?" 'Relics! Thunder, no! I'm a base ball pitcher."?Wtllman in Chicago HeralcL Home of t'-e Cardiff Giants. - The city of Muboriy, Mo., is stirred up over a wonderful buried city, which was discovered at the bottom of a coal -1 AAA -T i. I 1_ ! ^1_ ? scut okaj ieei< i;?up, wuusu was suuk near Moberly. A hard aad thick stratum of lava arches in the buried city, the streets of which are regularly laid out and enclosed by walls of stone, which is cut and dressed in fairly good, although rude, style of masonry. A hall 30x100 feet was discovered, wherein were stone bcnches and tools of all descriptions for mechanical service. Further search disclosed statues and images made of a composition closely resembling bronze, lacking luster. A stone fountain was found in a wide court or street, and from it a stream of perfectly pure water was flowing, which, upon being tasted, was found to be strongly impregnated with lime. Lying beside the fountain were portions of the skeleton of a human being. The bones of the leg measured, the femur four and one-half feet, and the tibia four feet and three inches, showing that when alive the figure, was three times the size of an ordinary man, and possessed of wonderful muscular power and quickness. The head bones had seoarated in two nieces, the I sagittal and the coronal suture having been destroyed. The implements found embrace bronze and flint knives, stone and granite hammers, metallic saws of rude workmanship but proved metal, and others of similar character. They are not so highly polished nor so accurately made" as those how finished by our best mechanics, but they show skill and an evidence of an advanved civilization. The searching party spent twelve hours in the depths, and only gave up explorations because of the oil in their lamps bein^ low. These facts are vouched for by Mr. David Coates, the recorder of the city of Moberly, and \fv Monroro TTpsHrw. rif-v marshal, who were of the exploring party. A further extended search will be made in a day or two.?N. Y. Sun. A few weeks ago the cashier of a Western bank wrote to a distinguished resident of Canada as follows: Dear sir: I have a splendid opportunity to gobble up ?60,000 and join you in Canada. Can 1 have fun enough to offset the sacrifices of reputation, home and a large circle of lriends?" The distinguished resident replied by next mail as follows, and wrote "in haste1' on the envelope: "Don't you do it. I got away with a heap more swa? than that, and 1 can't find a CanucK who'll even drink beer with me." It is said that the D. R. misses his dear Bible class more than all else.? Wall Street News. i ^ n m A Buffalo newspaper,/in very large type, contains this distressing "sign of the times:" "Ladiea, we have received a new importation of long hair, from 24 to 30 inches,including an elegant a<isortment of ?'rev colors." * / i J / / 7 A Chatham Street Tragedy. Lconidas Baxter was drunk last Thursday- There is 110 question about it. The p'oliceman caught him in the very act of attempting to pay for a free lunch in a;Chatham street cellar, and was immediately arrested. On Friday morning Mr. Baxter presented a saddened and unwashed face to the justice. > . "Leonidas Baxter?" queried the justice, looking over his glasses at the prisoner i? the box. "Yes, sir," huinblv replied that indi vidual. "Is that.your right name?" "Yes, sir," responded the prisoner, with digpity. "You don't think I would play any tricks on the court I hope." 2b "You are.accused of being in a state of intoxication yesterday afternoon. Policeman Smith arrested you in Chatham street* "What have you to say for yourself ?r "True^yonr honor. I was intoxicated; buft I had an excuse. Listen, before yot?send me up. I am a restaurateur by "profession, I once owned an eating-hc^e on Sixth avenue; but Ii,u was unfa^unate. I could not'pay the ' rent," anc- had to move into Bleecker street.' my bad luck pursued me, a6d I wgg obliged to move again. This time I rented a room in Chatham street 1 had very little money, and it was necessary for mc to get quick returns from my investment Chatham street business methods, I need not tell your hoHbr, are not what I was accustomed td; but you know the old maxim, When ?ou are in Jerusalem do as the Jews da* Across the street from my place is ;an eating-den kept by a shockhaired, > red-eyea lobster, who, if I might offer the suggestion, ought to be on the island. He has been my banc, my curse." "WeSL" interrupted the justice; I am in a hufiy, Mr. Baxter." "On<*noment longer, your honor," replied-f the prisoner, "and I am through^ After I had been running my plan one week, I found that my expenses were $75 and my receipts $17.13. I had pnjy $100 left. I had to make a stir some way, so I hired a young man, bought him a neat suit of clothes, and started him out with a big placard fastened to his coat, which read: " 'I eat my lunch at Baxter's Palace restaurant' t4Asie walked up the street, he attracted universal attention, and business began to pour in. About noon I noticed that it suddenly stopped- <Jn going out, I discovered the cause of the trouble. The lobster had seduced my sign, filled it up with rum, and stationed it in front of my dooi. Its clothes were covered with mud, and its hat was jammed over its head to the chin. Of course, no one would come into a place with such a sign. That experiment cost ine $40. The next day a brilliant idea came to me, and I hastened to seize upon it. It was my dernier resort, so to speak. I went to the dime museum and engaged the fat man and the living skeleton. I paid them $30 apiece, my last cent. I put a huge card on the fat man's back, which read: " i eat at Leonidas Baxter's.' ' .1 - il T j. IT "Ana on ine tmn man i put aiiumer sicn-W V-fSonV "Then I started them down the street arm in arm. The effect was prodigious. Crowds followed in the:: wake. And the populace at once began to inquire: 'Where is Baxter's?1 'Let us go to this wonderful restaurant' I was in ecstasies of joy. I contemplated renting. the next room and hiring ten new waiters. When I was in the midst of this delirium of delight I was again brought face to face with despair. From the summit of my prosperity I was hurled into the depths of ruin. A deputy sheriff came in and closed my doors. Then, your honor, I took to drink to drown my sorrow. But I aboil hp rAvenced nn the lobster." "What did he do to injure you this time?" inquired the justice. "What did he do?" i*epeated the ?risoner. "He changed the signs!"? 'tick. ? ? ' ? Booth's Ride By Night. "Did you ever know how Booth passed the pickets on the bridge of the Potomac that fatal night3" said my friend. "I will tell you as it was told me by the old sentinel who was that night on duty there. A half hour before the time agreed upon by Booth to meet Harold the latter, who had lived in the neighborhood of the bridge all his life, and who was across the river in the little village of Uniontown then, crossed the bridge to come over on the Washington side. 'Who goes there?' said the sentinel on the bridge. 'A friend, going for a doctor,' replied Harold. 'Pass,' said the sentinel. He quickly rode up Eleventh street to Penn171 ctvoftf o ri A aj,iVJ.Uia arciiut there in the darkness waited until the thundering hoofs of Booth's horse were heard coming down Pennsylvania avenue. The two horsemen then started down EicMu street toward the bridge on t..uc ride for their lives, which ended in Garrett's burning barn in Virginia, -a hundred miles away. 'Who goes there?' rang out on the air from the startled sentry as the two horses came rushing toward the bridge. Harold was ahead and cried out, 'A friend, with the doctor.' The two men passed over the bridge, and it was perhaps several hours after the reverberations of the horses hoof3 had died away before the sentry knew who the men in such a hurry really were, and when he found it out he was nearly scared to death for fear he had failed to do his ( duty."?Philadelphia Times. "EMif/vrc Trill linro tTioir r\or>n]i!>'ritioc as well as other people. They practice ; and inculcate brevity, which is a Tir- ^ tue. "They arc absent-minded, which is a failing. It is not strange, then, that one should send a note to his lady-lov like the following: "Dearest, I have carefully analyzed the feeling I entertain for you, and the result is substan- ! tially as follows: I adore you! Will ; you be mine? Answer." Then, after a 1 moment of thought, he added in a 1 dreamy, absent way: "Write only on one side of the paper. Write plainly, and give real name, not necessarily for < publication, but as a guarantee of good 1 faith.?Buffalo Courier. J ? i Patents in Mexico cost from $10 to ; $300, according to the ideas of the of- i lice there as to the importance of the invention covered. The usual rate is $25, but an enterprising Chicago firm 1 has been sending out circulars propos- j in<* to obtain a Mexican patent for the uniform fee of $40. \ The growth of Socialism in Great - Britain is not inexplicable. In that country more than 10,000 landlords, ( while doing nothing, receive from the < soil more tnan twicc as much as the to- . tal wages paid to 860,000 laborers for ] working twelve hours through the , seven davs in every week. : Anecdote of General Stager. "The death of (General Anson Stager, reminds me of how he took the first telegraph message by sound, in this city, about forty years ago." The speaker, says the Pittsburg Times, was one of the very oldest newspaper men in Pittsburg, one whoge memory goes away back, from the present to the time when Mount Washington was but a hole in the ground, and covers everything between. "There are various claimants of the honor of being the first .to take by ear," he continued, "but I do not think any of the others go back as far as this. It was about forty years ago when the O'Reilly line was the only telegraph wire into Pittsburg. The office was in the second story of the Odeon building, on Fourth avenue, over the old Mayor's office. David Brooks, who is now leading the underground-wire fight before + Virt T orriclofiiro w?c mnn eraT *>nr! Art. son Stager, who has just died, ex-President of the Western Union Telegraph Company, was the operator. Andrew Carnegie, the iron prince; Robert Pitcairn, of the ^Pennsylvania railroad <505jpanj4--Gity- Attorney Moreland and George McLain? ex-Superintendttit "of Fire Alarm Telegraph, were messenger boys in roundabouts. "There was but one instrument, and when it got out of order business had to stop until it was repaired. There were no special dispatches to newspapers and no delivery of press messages. Each paper scat a reporter around to the telegraph office, who copied what he wanted for his paper. The amount of foreign news was limited to 1,500 a night, and other reports in proportion, the charge to each paper being $9 a week. Regular telegraphic tolls at that time were 40 cents for ten words and 4 cents for each additional word. "One night when we called to copy the report we found everything quiet and Stager sitting at the table that held the instrument reading. He told us 4-U awa -n-wiOsJ Via w a an?j> f J> of r? l nrV* f o t? i LilCI >"Y VJ U1U UVi X-LKJ UUHO VUO.V Ul^UU, UJ as that part of the instrument which printed the characters on the paper was broken. We so reported, and the editor poured fresh oil on the gudgeon of the scissors and made the best arrangement they could to get along without any telegraphic news. "Between 11 o'clock and midnigh't Stager came into the office of the Commercial Journal with a bundle of manuscript in his hand. He said that while sitting by the instrument and listening mechanically to the clicking it seemed to him that he could make out what it was saying by the sound. He had written it out as it sounded to him. Here it was. If we would take the risk on its accuracy we were welcome to use it, and found on comparing with Eastern papers which came three days later, that there were very few mistakes in it. The "scoop" the Commercial r ? 1 J.1 J 4.1.^ 7V.\% OOUT7LU0 IJ1US UULSUIKZU. UVCi. LilC x/topatch. Post, Gazette, and Union was the talk of the town for several days. ' But the instrument was repaired next day, Stager went back to the old system, and the first message ever taken by sound soon ceased to be talked about" . She Was Good To Him. "But, after all, she used to be good to us." It was a son who said this of a mother whom some nervous malady had overtaken and who was certainly a very serious trial to her family. The young man's life, too, was a weary one. He was hard-worked through the day, and it was depressing to go home at night to fault-finding and fretfulness. Harder still was it to sleep, as this son did, week after week and month 4-1- -4.1- \-T _ 1.^1/ auer moncn, wun an nis senses nan awake that lie might hear his mother's footsteps if they passed his door, and hurry after her to keep her from wandering out into the night alone, as her melancholy half-madness often led her to try to do. Strangely enough, she had turned against her own husband and her daughters. Only this one son had any power to persuade her for good. His work by day and his vigil by night wore on him sorely, but he never complained. One day his sister asked him how he could bear it and be always patient, when she?mother though she was? was in the house only as a presence of gloom and foreboding and unrest And the answer came: "Bat, after all, she used to be good to us." And then the thoughts of all the group went back to the years before this nervous prostration came upon her, when she had nursed them in illness' and petted them in childhood? when she had been 4,_;ood to them," one and all. "I know," the bov said, thought fully, "that I was a nervous, uncomfortable child myself the lirst three years of my life. Father said he thought they'd never raise me, but mother said: 'Yes, she would,' and she tended me day and night for. three years, till I began to grovfr strong like the rest of you. 1 owe her those three years, any Low, and she shall have them." And so he girded himself afresh for the struggle. It will not last forever. There are signs which the doctors can recognize that the cloud is lifting somewhat, and no doubt before long she will, be her old self again. And then will come her son's reward. He will feel that he has paid a little of the debt ' he owed to the love that watched over his weak babyhood. To many "mothers, worn by long i care, such years of melancholy and ' nervous prostration must eoinc. And the sons and daughters who tlnd their 1 homes saddened by such a sorrow 1 should lovingly remember the days in 1 which they we're helpless, and mother 3 was "good to them.11?' an Francisco ' Call Interest in politics increases in Germany. There were 565,197 more vot3rs, allowing for all increase in population, who went to the poll in 1884 ' than in 1S81. ' Of this increase the So- ] :ial Democratic party polled 248,029 J rotes. One of the greatest libraries in this 3ountry is that of Adolph Sutro, the , borer of the famous Sutro Tunnel. Sir. 1 Sutro has scoured Europe in search of rarities, and has now stored in San , Francisco enough books to bring the . i . 4 ?/i AAA cities aionc up to iou,wu. Young man, if you are ambitious , lon't try for a clerkship at Washing- j ton. Take warning from the career of the oldest Clerk in the Treasury De- j partment Appointed in 1847 at a sal- ( iry of $1,200, he is now getting $1,400 ( ?a rise of $200 in thirty-eight years. } A Parisian experimenter has discovered that man is more sensitive to the effects of morphine than is any other animal. A dog can take five times as J much of the drug and a monkey fifty times as much in proportion to their j respective weights as a human being. I Brignoli's Appetite. It has always been a very painful thought to me that heaven-bcrn tenors eat. Nothing is further from my idea of a hero of Italian opera than eating. Drinking is rather natural, although one always associates the tenor with champagne and delicate wines. But I know that Cardinali eats. I have seen him. He is not a poetic eater. I have had my eye fixed on the Adam's apple of Giannini's throat, but I believe it is not good manners, while he has swallowed a toothsome morsel of macaroni It is dreadfully' destructive of Ernani, Badames, and Faust to know that the sweetness of their music is preserved at the expense of all romantic ideal. Bri^noli was the boy to eat, though. He discounted the modern champagne and oyster tenor. He belonged to the old school of feeders and he fed like other lions. The higher a tenor can sing the more he can gat. It is the balance of art. Joe Polk used to give an amusing account of Brignoli's suppers, which were like several dinners of an ordinary mortaL He used to frequent Moretti's hm New York, a favorite Italian restaurant. It was Moretti himself who stood sadly on the shore and saw the great tenor sail for England. "Au re voir,1' the silver-voiced tenor cried, and waved his fat hand to the restaurateur. "Signor, $8,000!" cried Moretti, pitowil fhii wAw^a urorrt ornKon on both sides till they were out of hearing of one another. But Brignoli would go to Moretti's after a performance. "Signor, good evening. How do you feel this evening?" said the waiter. "How I feel? Ah, can you not see? I am seeck; I am very seeck." "What will you eat, signor?" "Eat, can you not see I am seeck? I am seeck? I am not welL I cannot eat." "We have some very nice oysters, signor." <" "Oysters? I have no appetite. I am not well I am seeck. But I must eat. My doctor say I must force myself to eat. Bring me two dozen. I will try them." The oysters are brought and demolished. "Signor, how do you feel now?," "What for you ask me how I feel? I am not well. 1 cannot eat anything. "We have some fine fish." "Oh, I must eat My doctor sav I must eat Bring me a pound and 1 will taste it" The fish follows the oysters. "Signor, how do you feel now?" "Feel? I feel very seeck. I can eat nothing." .. "We hare some very nice chops." "Chops? If I could only eat! Ah, well, I must force myself to eat I will try six or seven."" The chops follow the fish. "Signor, how do you feel now?" "Oh, am so seeck?so seeck! I have no appetite." r. "There's some good macaroni." "Ah, well, I suppose I must eat Brins: in the macaroni I must force myself to eat" The macaroni follows the chops. "Signor," says the waiter, "how do you feel now?" "Now? Ah! I am better. I am mooch better. Brignoli is himself again. Brin?r in your bill of fare. Brignoli will dine."?San Francisco Chronicle. "Tim." They said the train was an hoar behind time, and that information made us all feel put out and annoyed. Therefore, when a bov of about 14, poorly dressed and having a trampish look, 1 .y _ ? 1 . i.# 1_? r came aiong me piauoriu iur financial aid to get him down to R on the train we were waiting for, it was but natural that one and all replied: "If you want to go to R take the dirt road! You look as if you were used to tramping!" He had no saucy word in reply. When he went and stood in the light of the window, and I saw how he shivered in the cold wind, and how worried and anxious he seemed to be, I grew ashamed of my gruff words. I saw two or three others look him over as I had done, and' I had no doabt that they felt as I did. I ought to have walked up to the boy and said: "Here,'my lad, if you really want to go down to R , I'm willing to help you. Take this half-dollar. How happens it that a lad of your age is cold, ragged, hungry and away from * home ana friends?" But I didn't I edged towards him, ashamed, and yet not quite ready to acknowledge it to him, and all of a sud* ? a t i _ i. den ne disappeared. 1 rcasonea icai he had gone up the hill to the village, and that his pretending to want to go to R "was all a trick to beat honest men. When you reason that way the heart grows hard pretty fast, and you feel a bit revengeful. We talked the matter over?four or live of us?and the conclusion was that the boy would die on the gallows. Well the train came along after a while; and it was moving away, after a brief stop, when a piercing shriek, followed by shouts and calls, brought us to a stop. "Somebody's been run over!" called a voice, and in a moment the coaches were emptied. Yes, somebody had been run over? had a leg cut off above the knee by one of the cruel wheels. Who was it? How did it happen? It was our boy? the lad who was to end his days on the gallows. . He had crept under the +/\ at-psl a nn ?>ia trnnts. There lie was, having only a few minutes to live?his face as white as the snow-banks?his eyes roving from face to face?his lips quivering as twenty men bent down and spoke words of sympathy. "Who are you?" asked the conluctor. "Tim!" . "You shouldn't have tried it" "But I wanted to get to R so bad! I was up here to find work, but nobody would have me, and yesterday [ heard that mother was dead!" "But anybody would have given fou sixty cents to pay your fare." "Oh, no they wouldn't I asked lots and lots of men and they said I ought to be in jail. I?I?wanted !" There we were?the half dozen of us who had repelled him with insult? ivrung nis young neart stiu more?sent turn to this horrible death under the svheels! We dared not look into his face?we even shunned each otherIf it conld only come to pass again? i heaven would but send him back to jarth and let him stand before us as he lid that winter's night?but it is too ate!?Detroit Free Press. Curio parlors is the latest name for lime museums in the West, where at?mpts at refinements of language )ften seem to be in inverse proportion ;o popular taste and culture* < GLKANINGS. Raw oysters are highly recommended as a cure for hoarseness. France is now getting large supplies of canned frogs from this country. Before the war only the sweet potato tras grown In the Southern States. Osman Digma is noted for his dash and impudence. His mother was French. Of the young ladies in the Normal College in New York 25 per cent are Jewesses. a - ~ Mr. George H. Pendleton's grandfather was Hamilton's second in the fatal duei with Aaron Bun*. . Tennyson's salary as, a poet is but $480 a year, but he has' ?he traditional ttm of wine and the prestige. Lindsey Muse, the veteran doorkeeper for the Secretary of the Navy, has served in that-capacity" for'fifty-seven years. Among the 1,200 laws regulating the French pres3 is one,centuriesold,which threatens the proof-reader with death for even one blunder. An entomologist has reported having found 724 snecies of noxious insects in the trees, "shrubs smtTplants.of the New York parks last year. " John L. Sullivan's younger brother is some day - expected to knock out Jumbo, and possibly may aspire to a round with John himself. The latest puzzle now vexing some persons is how to place eight checkers ? 1 J m uu a. uuiitu io wiat uv two wui ue eim- er on a~straightOT diagonal line in either direction. The highest chimney in the world is said to be the circular one built of brick and stone at Port Dundas, near Glasgow, Scotland. It towers to a height of 456 feet .above ground. . Caterpillars are eaten in Australia and at the Cape at the risk of woful pains in the stomach, and even spiders, abhorred by every other race, axe- eaten by the.iiotten.tQts.and New Caledonians, with the same liability. The wife, and daughters of Bob Ingersoll dress plainly and coinb their hair naturally, and are described as looking for all the worid as if they had stepped down and out from some of the canvases in a gallery of beautyA curiosity in the form of an orange weighing twenty-four ounces is exciting no little interest in Levy, Fla., where it was grown. A resident near Brooksville boasts* of having gathered from his grove 800 oranges which averaged in weight one pound each. The grove is a comparatively young one this being its first crop. A company, cultivating 2,800 acres of vineyards in the foothills of Sacramento county, CaL, has abandoned the use of irrigation for wine grapes. The company has plenty of water at all limes, but experience has convinced the management that the best wine is made from grapes not irrigated, and that the vines thrive without irrigation. It is related of the famous Buenos Ayres beauty, Aimee Blanche, that she once loved a snake-charmer, who, as a proof of his affection, taught her to Handle ana at last to instruct a largo cobra. He insisted upon drawing the reptile's fangs, but she would not con- sent. She taught the snake to strike at s red handkerchief. Obtaining proof of her lover's infidelity she spread a red silk handkerchief on his face while he was asleep, and the cobra struck him repeatedly. He died without speaking. Hattie Ketchum, the five-year-old daughter of a farmer and tobaccogrower near Weedsport, N. Y., is said to be hopelessly addicted to the use of tobacco, and has been since she was two years old. When between one and two years of age the girl was afflicted with colic, and at the suggestion of a friend tobacco smoke was blown into milk and given her. This remedy proved effective, but created an uncontrollable desire -for tobacco, and by various subterfuges the child has ever f/\ rafiofif AFOT7_ OULL^C XUUUU CV OAHLOXJ JUVfc V/Artf" ing for the weed. Most of Mr. Arthur's Cabinet officers were good smokers. MrT Frelinghuy- y sen did not use tobacco, though the Assistant Secretary of State, Mr. Davis, liked good cigars, and plenty of thezo- Tobacco was' the only thing that 7 ever made Secretary Chandler turn pale. But Gen. Gresham was a great smoker. He smoked on the public streets, at his work, and wherever he could Secretary Teller liked a cigar that would last a long time and was not very strong. Secretary Lincoln smokes a good many pretty stiff cigars every day, and Attorney-General Brewster liked one with body to it. Some years ago a story was current of a woman who applied at & London hospital for treatment of a nervous affection. After listening to a recital of " . ~ ner symptoms, tne aoctor maae ner shot her lips upon a clinical thermometer. Upon removing it, the patient exclaimed: "Why,I declare it has done me good already.'' The doctor humored her delusion, and refrained from any other treatment than a few more applications of the magical glass tube. She was soon cured. A parallel case is now cited by the Philadelphia Medi- ~"? cat Hews, an hysterical patient haying been cured by magnetism. The magnet was of wood, just capped with metal, so as to seem cold to the touch. "Pot holes" have recently been discovered on Great Island, Me., and some persons have considered them of mysterious origin. A correspondent " > WflU axis uncu aixu airnxwu. cAuavabiuus ff v along the Columbia River, in Oregooy^^^ says they are due to the swift current in the overflow of the rivers, which forms eddies and small whirlpools, causing a motion in a loose bowlder, which acts as a drill, and in course of time bores a smooth, round 44pot" in the rock, in which it lies, the loose stones becoming round in the process. x- Any number of the round stones may be found in the holes and lying among loose stones on the beach. The Chinese know the value of advertising. Here is the "ad" of an ink manufacturer of Canton, translated: "At the shoo Tae-sin? Cnrosoerous in the extreme)?verygoodlnk;'fine! fine' ' Ancient shop, great-grandfather, grandfather, father, and self make this ink; fine and hard, very hard; picked with care, selected with attention- This ink is heavy; so is gold. The eye of the dragon glitters and dazzles, so does this ink. No one makes like it. Others who make ink make it for the sake of accumulating base coin and cheat, while I make it only for a name. Plenty of A-kwantsaes (gentlemen) know my ink?my family never cheated? they have always borne a good name. I make ink for the 'Son of Heaven' and all the Mandarins in the Empire. As the roar of the tiger extends to every place, so does the fame of the 'dragon's lewfcL' "-K Y. ' ' . . - .: - - ir%0 ' >