THE END.
[Tu' dti ti 'old the poet that he eoul'i net i o»
*1 v live twenty-four hour*.
A few triff hours and I shall lie
Uenoalh yon calm arid peaceful skv
Whose hrcsjst is bright with notes and
And laughing mu -ic of the nturn—
Whoso bosom, spread from pole to p..!.*.
In silence shall tny grave console.
With straightened limb* my bones -i.ai. rest,
My hea«l against my cofltn pressed
And hour by hour, and day by day,
My bumrdp nust *hall puv away.
This hand that writes shall then be ..1,1,
And shrunk and eaten with the mold
Of time, and d^ath, and dark decay.
"Till joint by joint returns to clay.
The dread, the fear, the torment sore
Rtaali rend my heartstrings nevermoi
Nor human wilds t.or worldly strife,
To barely win the bread of life.
Shall ne'er, within my narrow bed,
Disturb or wake my wearied head.
A thousand years shall pass roc by.
Without a chanpe in land or sky
Nor winter's snow nor summer's heat
Shall e'er disturb my winding sheet.
At evening's close I'll meet no mure
The smile that waits me at the dooi\
The hills and dries and brooks shut.
A mute forcvermo.*
*f one.
No morn shall waUe me at its dawn.
No n:or'. on m»»:id or field or lawn,
When land«cnres smile beneath the
Shall romping children to me run.
O happj day th»se eyes shall close
To life's contentions and its woes,
And all the miseries that ban
The mystic course of fool sh man!
My t-pun of life, my humble lot,
Like friendship's vow
a will be forgot
And all the world will live the same
As if I never hud a name.
Hugh Murdcrmott. In Journalist.
EAMES' LEGACY.
His Aunt's Old Silver Watch Brings
Him Luck.
Charles Eames stepped into the ofliee
of his friend Howies, editor of the
Gltnville Courant.
"How aie you, Eame-'.''" asked the
editor.
"I ought to feel happy, I suppose,"
said the young man, a little ruefully,
"for I've just received notice of a leg
acy/'
"Indeed, I congratulate you."'
"Wait till you liear what it is."
"Well, what is it?''
"My Aunt Martha has just died,
leaving fifty thousand dollars."
"To you? I congratulate you heart
ily."
"No: she leaves it to a public institu
tion. She leaves me only her silver
watch, which she has carried for forty
years."
"Ilow is that?"
"She didn't approve of my becoming
an artist. She wished ico to be a mer
chant. If I had consulted her wishes, I
should, doubtless, have been her sole
heir. This small legacy is meant more
as an aggravation than any thing else."
"But you can make your own way."'
"I can earn a scanty living at pres
ent. I hope to do better by and by.
But you know my admiration for Mary
Ilrooks. If I had been Aunt Martha's
6ole heir, I could have gained her
lather's consent to our marriage. Now
it is hopeless."
"I am not so sure of that. This legacy
may help vou."
"An old watch? You are joking."
"Not if you will strictly observe my
directions."
"What are they?"
"Simply this: Agree for one calendar
month not to mention or convey the
.least idea of the nature of your aunt's
bequest. I will manage the rest."
"I don't at all know what you mean.
I.owles," said the young artist "but I
am in your hands."
"That is all I wish. Now remember
to express surprise at nothing but let
matters take their course."
"Very well."
In the next issue of the (Jlenville
fourant the young artist was surprised
to read the following paragraph:
"We are pralitteil to rei oril a piece of good
luck which has just befallen our esteemed fel
low-citizen, the promising younir artist, Charles
Karnes. By the will of an aunt recently de
ceased, he comes into possession of a piece of
property which has been in the family for many
years. Miss Kami's is reported to have left
fifty thousand dollars."
"Really," thought the young man,
"anybody would naturally suppose from
this paragraph that I had inherited my
aunt's entire property."
He put on his hat and walked down
the street, lie met Ezekiel P.rooks,
president of the (ilenville National
Bank.
Mr. Brooks beamed with cordiality.
"My dear sir, permit me to congratu
late you," he said.
"You have read the Courant?" said
Eamea.
"Yes: and I am delighted to hear of
your good fortune. Can I speak to you
on business a moment?"
"Certainly, Mr. Brooks."
"You'll excuse my advice, but I know
you are not a business man, while 1 am.
My young man, do you want to make
some money
"Certainly I should be glad to do
so."
"James Parker has five hundred
shares of the Wimbledon railway. It
stands at fifty-six, a figure much below
its real value. But l'arker is nervous,
and wants to sell out. I want you to
buy out his entire stock."
"But, Mr. Brooks—"
"I know what you would say. It may
go down—but it won't. I have advices
that a speedy rise is almost certain.
Buy him out, and you'll make a hand
some thing of it."
"But how shall I find the money?"
"Of course you haven't received your
legacy yet. I know there are delays.
No trouble about that, (rive your note
on ninety days, and I'll indorso it.
You'll sel' out before that time at a
handsome advance."
"I will place myself in your hands,
Mr. Brooks, but you must manage the
business."
'Certainly I shall only want your
signature when the documents arc tnado
out By the by, come round and dine
witn us. or have you another engage
ment?"
Another engagement? Had Eameshad
any engagements he would
have broken
Cla
-i *wr privilege of meeting
Mary Brooks. This was the first time
mi iiitd iii-.**ii iiinU:u to tne capitalist's
table. The faet is, until this morning,
Mr. Brooks had scarcely vouchsafed him
more than a cool nod on meeting but
had changed, or appeared to. and his be
havior altered with it. Such is the
way of the world!
It was a very pleasant dinner. The
young artist remained afterwards,
"I have an engagement, Mr. Eames,"
said Mr. Brooks, "a meeting of tba
bank directors: but you mustn't go away.
Marv will entertain vou.*1
The young man did not go away, and
apparently was satisfied by the enter
tainment he received. He blessed his
aunt for her legacy, if only it had pro
cured him this afternoon's inter
view with the young lady he had ad
mired. But it gained hitn more. Every
four days he received a similar invita
tion. He could not fail to see that
Ezekiel Brooks looked with evident
complacency on the good understanding
between his daughter and himself.
"What will he say'.'"' thought the
young man, "when he finds out what sort
"f a lega y I have received from my
nunt?"
Occasionally, ?m.. he felt ner\"*is
about his hasty assent to the pro pus i
tion to buy four hundred shares of rail
road stock at fifty-six, when he hadn't
fifty dollars ahead. He reckoned u.p
one day what his purchase would amount
to, and his breath was nearly taken
away when he found it amounted to
tier/itji-fiijhl tiiuiiMntl duthir*' Still, it
had been in a manner forced upon him.
He asked no questions, but every now
and then the old gentleman saici: "All
going well! Stock advancing rapidly."
With that hp was content. Indeed,
he was so carried away by love of Mary
Brooks that he gave little thought to
any other subject. i
One day Mr. Brooks came up, his fac®
beaming with joy. I
"Wish you joy, Eames," he said.
"Wimbledon's gone up like a rocket to
par. (Jive me authority, and I'll sell
out for you."
The artist did so, hardly realizing
what it meant, till three days after ha
received a little note to this effect:
DEAK KAMEK:—Have sold out yrur five htm
dred shares of Wirnb'erion at 101. So you
bought at 5fl. This trives you a clear prolit
of forty-five dollars per share. or twenty two
thousand live hundred dollars. You hud better
take the ride an your surplus, fall
at my ofllce at oi„v. Y.. rs very truly,
E/.KKIKI, BROOKS
Charles Eames read this letter three
times before he could realize its mean* I
ing. Could it be that without investing
eent he had made over twenty thou
sand dollars? It must be a dream, ho
thought.
But when ho ailed at the old gentle
man's ofliee. he found it was really
true.
'Mr. Eames, how about this money? I
Shall I re-invest it for you?"
'Thank you, sir. I wish you would.
I should like a little in hand, how-j
ever."
'Certainly. Will that answer?" and i
the old gentleman wrote a check for five
hundred dollars, and placed it in tho I
young man's hand.
It was more money than he had ever
before possessed at one time. This was
convincing proof of the reality of his
good fortune.
The next day he went to the city and
ordered a handsome suit of clothes at a
fashionable tailor's. The fact was his
old coat was getting threadbare, and
his overcoat decidedly seedy. While
he was about it he bought a new coat and i
boots, as well as other needed articles,
and still returned with money enough
in his pocket to make him feel rich.
He changed his boarding-house, en
gaging a handsome room at a much
nicer boarding-house.
"It seems to me you are dashing out,
Eames," said his friend, the editor. i
"You know I've had a legacy," Qp.id
Eames, laughing.
"I begin to think you have," said the
editor.
When Eames appeared on the street
in his new suit it was a confirmation of
the news of his inheritance. His re
moval to a fashionable boarding-house i
was additional confirmation. It was
wonderful how he rose in the estima- I
tion of people who had before looked
upon him as a shiftless artist,
One morning, with considerable trepi
dation, young Eames broached the sub
ject to Mr. Brooks.
"No one I should like better for a
son-in-law, if Mary is willing,'' was the
prompt answer.
Mary was willing, and as thero
seemed no good reason for waiting, the
marriage took place within a few
weeks.
"Charles," said his father-in-law,
after the young people returned from
their wedding journey, "it is time for i
me to render you an account of your
money affairs. I have been lucky in
my investments, and I have thirty-one
thousand dollars to your credit, or. de- i
ducting the amount paid for your house,
twenty-six thousand dollars. By the i
way. have you received your aunt's be
quest?"
"I received it yesterday," said
Charles.
"I ndeed!"
"Here it is," said the young man, and
he produced a battered silver watch.
"Do you mean to say this is all she i
left you?" asked his father-in-law,
stupefied.
"Yes. sir."
Ezekiel Brooks whistled in sheer I
amazement and his countenance fell, i
Foe a moment he regretted his daugh
ter's marriage, but then came the
thought that his son-in-law. through a
lucky mistake, was really the possessor I
of quite a comfortable property, i
which, under his management, tnighi I
be increased. So he submitted with a i
good grace, and is on the best of terms I
with his daughter's husband, who is i
now in Italy with his wife, pursuing a
couts*' of artistic study, lie treasures
carefully the old watch, which he re
gards as the foundation of iaia prosper
ity.—Yankee Blade.
CAPITAL PUNISHMENT.
Senator Incallk' Views on the Infliction
of the Supreini- Venalty.
We are all under sentence nf death.
By some mysterious and inexorable law
it is appointed for all men to die. Other
incidents may or may not occur, but
death is inevitable. There is no re
prieve, no new trial, no pardon, no ex
ecutive clemency. Life, the most sacred
of all natural rights, is the one of which
all are deprived by an arbitrary decree
of nature. The verdict is proaounced
and judgment rendered before we are
born.
The right of man to live is sacred and
incontestible, and yet it may be re
nounced. If I am attacked. I lyive the
right to kill my assailant, if his death is
necessary for the preservation of my
own life. This is not denied by any
code of morals or of laws. Life may be
legally taken not only in self-defense
but in the protection of property, of
honor, and the State. If the ri^ht to
slay e.xi.sts. then the right to live is
forfeited, because two contradictory
rights affecting the sun' individual can
not exist.
Civil governments are established,
among other objects, to dispense with
private vengeance, and to punish crimes
against individuals as offences against
the social compact. The citizen relin
quishes his right to kill the man who
has slain his father, his brother, his
wife or his friend, upon the agreement
that society shall avenge the wrong,
and punish the olTender.
This seems to be the rational justifica
tion of tho death penalty, which has
been universally recognized from the
beginning of history.
And yet it can not be denied that as
the conscience of nations becomes more
sensitive and the sacrednessof life more
apparent its infliction grows more re
pulsive. I nbunals. juries an 1 legisla
tures are pi ptihly reluctant to en
force the fatal right of retaliation.
Limitations are imposed. The con
demned criminal becomes the object of
excessive aad inexplicable sympathy.
Philanthropy strives to devise less ter
rible methods of execution. The bar
barous torture of the stake. the gibbet,
the wheel, of beheading and mutilation,
once deemed essential to the safety of
society, are regarded with horror, and
have been definitely abandoned. Hu
manity shudders at the contemplation,
and inquires whether the sacrifice of
life is not indefensible if the isolation
of the felon i sufficient f,,r tbie protec
tion of tho State from the repetition of
the crime.
The public sentiment for the abolition
of capital punishm-ei. i-idently grow
ing stronger in all parts of the civilized
world. For political offenses, except in
actual war, it has been finally sup-,
pressed. Had Waterloo occurred two
centums earlier Napoleon would have
been sent to the block instead of to St.
Helena.
The right of government to inflict the
death penalty must bo conceded. The
objects of punishment are to reform
the offender and to protect s i t\ The
idea of vengeance has been eliminated.
No gentleman can be considered as re
formed by being hanged, and the only
remaining consideration, therefore, is
that of social utility. This is debatable
ground, and is not susceptible of demon
stration. There are some incorrigible
and predestined criminals, the wolves,
tigers and cobras of the human race,
whose execution gives general satisfac
tion: but the victims of heredity, of
want, of sudden rage, of ungovernable
impulse are regarded with compassion.
The indications aro strong that society
will ultimately be reinforced with suf
ficient. intellectual and moral guaran
tees to enable it to dispense with this
supreme penalty.
At present the general .xiseienee
would probably reflect the sentiment of
the challenged juryman in Montana,
who declared that he was opposed to
capital punishment, except when in
flicted by a vigilance committee.
The Legislature of Kansas has adopted
the ingenious device of ordering crimi
nals condemned to death to be confined
for one year after sentence to the peni
tentiary, and then executed at the pleas
ure of the (Jovernor. The result is an
accumulation of a job lot of convicted
felons, whose lives having been judi
cially forfeited, instead of being abbre
viated, are indefinitely prolonged by
improved diet, scientific sanitary regu
lations, and enforced good habits, at the
expense of the State.—John James ln
galls, in N. Y. Sun.
i
All at once it occurred to him: "Why i
shouldn't I propose for Mary Brooks?
With twenty thousand dollars I could
certainly support her comfortably, i
There was a very pretty cottage and
tasteful grounds for sale at five thou- I
sand dollars. This would make a i
charming home."
TOM SMITH KICKED.
A Deliver Man Who Knew llinv to fight
for His lU piitation.
One day in the years gone by, when I
was on the editorial staff of a struggling
Denver daily, a man came tramping up
stairs with a copy of our last issue in
his hand, and said:
"Gentlemen. I want to know who writ
this piece about me."
It was an item copied from a San
Francisco paper in regard to the hang
ing of a man named Tom Smith by a
vigilance committee,
1
an
TH£ QUELN'.S HOUSEHOLD.
The Dally Routine
71777,«
Oinner a*
the editor
looked it over and replied:
"This wasn't writ about you. It is
about a Tom Smith who was hanged in
California."
"I hat's me. I'm Torn Smith."
"But you are not that Tom Smith. It
tells how he was cut down and buried."
"Makes no difference to me I'm To-:n
Smith, and it is all a lie about my being
hanged," growled the visitor.
"Can there be any other Tom Smith
besides you?" demanded the editor.
"Never heard of any. That was writ
to slur me."
"You are mistaken, man. Can't you
see that we copied it from a San Fran
cisco paper."
"Well, that's all the same to me. The
idea was to ruin my reputation in this
town, i 1 ve come up to lick both of
you.''
He wa« proctedingtodoit when a lame
compositor came in and shot him
through tht- left leg. but even after that
he chewed the old man's car to a pulp
and broke tw-o of my fingers. —X Y. Sun.
He CouUl Go Out ltut Once.
First V\ oman ou ought to got your
husband to take you to the Theater
There is an excellent play there
Second Woman--Is it a four-act play?
1- irst Woman-No only two
Secur.d Woman- Then he wouM n't
go.—MJHSJ'S Weekly. woman
Royal Palace nl
of I nichui'l.
Of all the principal courts of Europe
that of Kngland is the simplest, and yet
the household maintained by the Queen
consists of over 1.000 persons. The dis
cipline is strict and admirably carried
out. The Queen pays the highest sala
ries paid at any court, anil in return ex
acts the most unswerving integrity, the
greatest- discretion and most faithful
service. For }.»•:• bo!,-«.jhold expenses
the Queen rioiu a yearly grant of
i.4.VUMK.
Her habits are quiet and unostenta
tious. She rises at eight a. ni., and her
breakfast consists of a dish of oatmeal,
some fish and a cup of cocoa. The lords
and ladies in waiting, thirty-five in
number, breakfast in the most sumptu
ous style, and it is principally for these
important personages that tho following
kit-chon staff is maintained: one kitchen
clerk, a chef, six cooks, and fourteen
helpers and storekeepers.
At ten o'clock tier Majesty receive-!
her letters and news. In accordance
with strict cu irt »-ti(|Uctt" the Queen is
not expected to handle a single news
paper, masrazine or periodical neithet
does she receive any written comunica
tion except family letters. Tho news
papers are read through by one of the
secretaries to the private secretary, who
makes cuttings of any news likely to
interest her Majesty, and these aro
fastened to a piece of silk and laid upon
the table.
It is strictly forb'cUcn to anv member
of the royal family an one in the
household to convey any newspaper or
periodical to her .Majesty, or to direct
her attention to any news in the daily
papers. No polit: .i 1 news is clipped
from the dailies.
The principal av.-ndants upon the
Queen are six Pages of the Hack Stairs,
whose offices have certainly not an hon
orable name, but who receive the tol
erable salary of a year apiece.
One of them is in constant attendance
at the door of her Majesty's apartment,
from early morning until she retires at
night. His position is no sinecure, and
I he has frequently'o irrv the Queen's
reprimand'to i- emi,.
hold who !i
pleasure,
-t i i
seven o'cloi
I ranging of
performance
hours. For
i is maintain!
-e is served at
I he blankets on the Queen's bed are
made from tho wool of Australian sheep
and they are beautifully soft, warm,
and light of texture. The sheets are
also of the same wool, and no linen
sheets are ever used. The ventilation
of the room is perfect. Throughout the
palace the rooms are kept at the same
cool temperature, no overheating is per
mitted, and in all the private rooms
wood is burned instead of coal.
rI
here is a complete sanitary estab
lishment, supported at a cost of £*j,7(»ti a
year. Perhaps of all the long list of
appendages to royalty no one earns his
wages more fairly than the obscure per
sonage who figures at the end of the pay
roll—the Queen's rat-catcher whose
duty it is to keep the royal premises
from "all rats and mice and such small
deer,' and who in return for this service
receives the modest stipend of £75 a
year. -Chica/o Tribune.
CRUSTY MARK TWAIN.
The Humorist
Ik
PUNCitNT PARA A I'M S.
—Cholly Peacbblow—"Ow! I say. hah
bata, that razor pulls." Barber (con
teiupt uou'l v i "Pulls what— X. Y.
Sun,
—She (•,.' a
der if
,h'"t
u.i -u u
At the
Physician
nice
i setting and ar
i- a most artistic
o .lies about two
a table decker
1
I.O.KJ, who occupies a
i suite of rooms in the palace, and three
assistant decker*, besides a wax-fitter lo
arrange the candles and Three lav p
lighters to light them.
The Queen retires at ten ..' •!,1cl. i n
cepting on special occasions, when she
retires as early as she can manage to
without disturbing her visitors. Tho re
•re eight Ladies of the Ut dchamber,
who serve by turnsa fortnight at a tune.
These ladies are all of the highest, fam
ilies, and rarely rank under a Ouchcss.
I here are besides eight bedchamber
women, also persons of quality, who
really do the work of ladies' maids, and
receive SI,,"h)U a year. These women serve
by turns in couples a month at a tune.
Sour, Hut Worth All ol
T«r i Million Dollar*.
Mark Twain's success in life seems to
have made him crusty and sour. Years
ago, when he was struggling for fame
and fortune on the Pacific coast, thosu
who knew him said he was warm-hearted
and cordial. But he is certainly fat
from that now. When he comes to New
York, as hf often does, he evades news
paper reporters, and if by any chance
these industrious gentlemen manage tc
waylay him and seek an interview on
any topic, the greart humorist is not only
reticent, but ugly and disagreeable.
Perhaps to those he knows he is more
friendly. At any rate, the reporters
now steer clear of him. They never
bother him when ho comes to the city,
and lie is left alone in his glory.
I saw him on the street a while ago,
dressed a dark business suit. He has
an attractive face, a splendid head, set
upon a pair of strong shoulders. His
eyes are clear and his mouth denotes
great firmness. His hair is silvering
gradually, although there is an abund
ance of it. His mustache is reddish and
his eyebrows are heavy.
Mr. Clemens lives in style in Hart
ford. Ct. His home is on Farmington
avenue. It is a house luxuriously fur
nished and filled with rare pictures and
books. The occupant of the house ad
joining is Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe,
and not far away is the home of Charles
Dudley Warner. Mr. Clemens never
talks about his books except to those
whom ne knows intimately. I{ut there
is one topic that he is willing to discuss
at any time, and that is international
copyright. In fact, it may be said that
he is a crank on the subject. His books
sell well. "Innocents Abroad." the
most successful of all his literary ven
tures. has a steady sale, and his fortune
is estimated by those who know him to
be considerably over Some
times fun pays.-N. Y. Mail and Ex
press.
-Clerical Advice. A rather plain lad*
asks the opinion of her minister: "Is U
a sin to feel a trifle of vanity when I
am ca]!.,j handsome by a gentleman
"Not a sin y iu, my cnild, but a ter
rible responsibility hangs upon the
gent.einan. Philadelphia Titucs*
li-'.-nen?"
that this
conjecture
'83.
said .lay
lie had 80
,'e it- for a
placed
lie I s .sad to think.
wiL a i v.ys be a mat!'
witn vow.*' -Philadelpl.
"You may ch.-irgc
smith, indicating a w-
1
lee tod. "You sr ?". te iin»U«
pun." replied the -\m ler, as
it back in ihe ca- .' idge.
Heipathetiea.lvi -"All great men
have smoked, my dear." She iwith ani
mation)—v"0. if you will only swear off
until you are g-n .i\ 1 .'eCon
tent."
Wife (reading "lice .: about
a man ninety-two year* out wuo firings
up all the coal and chops ai! the wood
used in the family. What do you think
of that'.'"
"Well.
Citizen.
Hi
II, ,.t b'' a
1
i' Lowell
would not help himsell his fork.
Mrs. Bcttcrdaies _r "Don't
mind 11. dear: he never .v.ih
Detroit Free I'n
-—Stager—"Tt.e
complimentary i
that in my last p'
word of praise." (tail
but I notice that none
you." -Boston Transc:
--Lady"Sir ye. s
little change in v. -tyie of
(lent "How ili. mean.
selle?" I.aii"You might tc
step on mv .' f: foot the rig!
had enou London Tid B.
•-At a Soiree.—Miss t. .*
torturing. how fearful 'i
be for a great singer
has lost her voice V. I'r.
is much more to .r.ug t.
know it." Harvard La
1
her d:
mo*to :in:
"No
si--'
cat
all
ex i
w
the
Po
"Mr. Scrild
it to rs^
the dining,
-•thing. Mr.
Ilashcrof4 to hang u:
room. Can't you s"ggo
BiiLings? I'
and shut ey
press.
w ll be a
H.
replii
io v\ea
loses n.
the fur:
W I A N V
•e i.\-
have a comidl
'eed'.
ment for yen.
frietnl of mine
says hat you an
"literary tastes.'
bleton, with a
more than an hour siru••
Pepperton that I had:
thing for over a month
A NIGHT OF HORROR.
Imprisoned Miner* AVnteli it \V»U u
Water 'rerp I pun Tlimi.
The Egypt coal mine, near Egypt Sta
tion, N. (.'., is the on'.v coal mine in
North Carolina and i,.i- .-.a ,v forty
laborers employed in
The pit is 4:10 feet d". p. an 1 1 re U
only one cage used to draw ot.' men.
During one afternoon this a.-,, was
caught by a slight cave-in alw.,o mid
way between the top an.
1
mine,
and their cries of ajfony could be hoard
a mile away.
It was known 'ha* tne wa*»-r r..s( ver\
rapidly in the and wi*h the ma
chinery blocked there was no way pos
sible to pump it out. The miners would,
therefore, soon drown if- not rescued.
No voice could penetrate the depths, and
no sound could be heard from below.
Night came on, but there were no
prospects of rescue. At last Samuel A.
Ilenzsey. the president of the coal mine
•ompany, got some men to work, and
throughout the long hours while they
tried to loosen the macninery mothers
walked up and down weepir.g and carry
ing babies in their arms.
Midnight came, but nobody thought
of sleeping. Just before daybreak some
men were lowered down to the fastened
cage and cut a hole in it.
The glad tidings were sent up that the
men were alive. Soon ropes were let
down, and one by one they were pulled
out. All were alive, but had the rescue
been delayed a few hours ail would have
been drowned, as the water in the mine
had risen four feet and would have soon
covered the head of every man. They
were all wet, cold and half-starved.
"We did not expect to be rescued at
all," remarked an old man. "We felt
sure that the mine had caved in at the
top, and not a man of us ever expected
to be taken out of that pit alive. We
huddled close together, and spent tho
time in singing and praying.
"We knew at the rate the water was
rising on us that it would only bo a mat
ter of a few hours before we would all
di own." he added, "and it required a lot
of talk and persuasion to keep some of
the men from lying down in the water
and drowning before the water was
three feet deep. We then made a bar
gain to stand on our feet just as long as
we could, und when we could stand no
longer we had agreed to all lie down in
the water at the same time and die. It
was an awful time, and I think we all
suffered the horrors of a hundreddeaths.'
—N. Morning Journal.
Out for Keep*.
Mrs. Ram bo—Is your mother ut home,
Thomas'.'
Tommy Dodd-No, ma'am she's out
Mrs. Karabo-rdlow unfortunate! Tell
her I shall call again to-morrow, will
you?
Tommy Dodd-Yes'm, I'll tell ner but
It won do any good I heard o u sa
that she was il 'V»-ys out whjn you "ailed
Lippincott's
S
-How little and
dried
appears to the rat
aft«,
tb0
trilP
Atchison Globe,
won-
Abuse is one of the f,
man can get without ,Wni*
Ing it. Milwaukee Journal
Calumniators art» the asr*
Envy and malice are the
fc hich th«iv feed. L.
jiro
-The man why ft,
up in himself is-nasilv done,
people. Indianapolis Sf,min
Joy travels alone and
Call grief brings along
Hid stops all summer JUtj]
Sometimes, to unkindw,"
tk-e, silence mtfy bo suite,
tho soft ansu-r whivb tin
Krath.
Sometimes a wan tab
moral ground th.ut, he can't
to help the needy and distrc
fcs Siftings.
ur battle of HfP
1
tl
boarding Miss Bet
Ma-mma. I w.--:, Mr. Margin
terdaies
,-s have been very
They all say
,iance I deserve a
"i i 1 see
of ,i i.'.v it to
nouldintroduce a
tyie of dancing.'*
Mademoi
i uallv
!.• has
How
.j:.* must
,.i: she
-"It
.- doesn't
refiecti
case is tuie. I think, th..' ....
mild stimulant. !.••' :•.
tongue, madam. .' .t
band of patient I
tongue• doesn't m- «•.
-ee
wo
ug worth fighting f01
W.- van have no credltabli
Liu led Presbyterian.
-He whose days pass will
ing and enjoying is like the
•111 ith he breaths, indp,.^
Hot live.- Hindu Proverb
Never look back.- Y0l
the mistakes you have n
think of what you have ar
Of what you may accomplish
What is with the tre
fare as the treasure
which haunts the treasure-:
the moth and rust curr«[t,
rusted and moth-eaten, y
bianv a woman, fair and ft
tee, is going about with a 1
eaten heart. Macdonald.
Keep to your specialty,
of the thine that you acco
most of sa'tlsfac'th-n tu
IllOSt
of ld'Iieli to Ihoce
to this, whether it be raisir.
tunes, painting screens or I
Studying political eceru.my
receipts. Frances K. Wi'da:
(iood taste is a in,c ec
luay be practical on smai
sweeten the lot of labor
case. It is all the more c-n
when associated with fndus
jerforir.am e of dntv. F,n
poverty is elevated
itself in economies
gi\es brightness
vmir
it us-
1
1
her
..'.ng."
Cnicago Trilm•
—.Miss Nubor1.1 "1 .•
work a
e 1 Will
s,|i-:
blest dwel lin
It engenders •„,
atmosphere t{ .•!,»• r:
taste, associated wi* :.o
thy and inti»lligen
Bd.if" even the tiiwi-si .(,t
said
one
rows
id'.eS
an I
.-a'er
into
iigton
MANY of our cares are li
way of looking at our pr vii
Yes
Belle Pepperton.
.piilg very marked
ideed." suid Scrib
-uiile: "it. wasn't
i i :i.at I .-! Miss
r.tti u any
.atom of the
only shaft, thus rend( useless tho
only means by whl'h ..i-.yrers could
get out.
At first nobody km what to do.
Wives, mothers and luniren of the im
prisoned men gathered about the
SCHOOL "BOO^
A 11!Jof leiicr.il liitHri-t
ami Oilier* Having hi.i
cat*.
The four tending
ing houses of the 1
heretofore been kn••
lowing styles and ti- .• •.
Van Antwerp. H. i.
nati 1 v ison, I51ak
York A. S. Harries A, •.
I). Appleton & Co.. N'ew
full and careful eonsiderati
circumstances, have d-cii
an incorporated company ft
tuition of the school book bu
realue that the time has
something mut be d'infi
means devised for r-«lu*:ng
school books to t':.e
enabling tho patrous
to purchase th«'ir su
rect from the public.• ..
wherever they desir*' t
have felt that tho ft.t
iiess is seriously threatened
ular prejudice wiii'di has 1
by tho exorbitant prices
school books by the V
There have been too many
olT of school books, and in
their business into this nev
pany they do so for the
with tho determination
closer relations with the ael
ers of the books and give ll
eflt of tho lowest possible
accomplish this ne v depa
manner of furnishing scno
reduced prices, a great'
in manufacturing the
in conducting the busmi
practiced, and this is theol/
view by tho firms above
forming tho new company
new organization one pl»
force of clerks and agents
business which has herein
several expensive ostab.isli
saving of expense in this il
be evident to any one, and
thero will also be a materia
tu tho now company in the
vvlii tie able to get better
chasing tho paper, prints
other material used in the
of the books.
It has been stated by the
and opponents of this
that as soon as it gets 0
trade in a State it will at
tho price of books. Tic
this criticism can not bel
than by the willingness of'
pany to give guaranty with
bond in any reasonable a
trading as follows:
First, that thero will be
in prices for five, ten or
years if desired and seco
anytime tho
new
company t-
be reduced to a lower fig
duc.ed price will at once
established price under a
To those who aro infort
matter it is well know
majority of the school
in use in tho schools
the country aro published
houses which have
formed
pany. It is tho earnest i
company to have these
ued in use in tho schools,
aim to make it for the i"1
public to use them.
Ity a generous policy tb
pany expects to incrcas
ness and to secure tho wiu
salo for its books, reaiizi
only way in which this oa
plished is by furnishing the
people direct and at lowei
School booka have ever bee'1