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TIIE MILLHEIM JOIR^AL,
PUBLISHED EVERY TTRTRBDAY BY Deininger & Bumiller. Office in the New Journal Building-, Pcnn St., near Hartman's foundry. SI.OO PER ANNUM, IN ADVANCE, OR $1.25 IF NOT PAID IN ADVANCE. Acceptable Corresjoiience SoliciteJ. Address letters to MILLHKIM JOURNAL. THE REST THAT FOLLOWS P AIN The night has come, and the starlight Falls on the restless sea Like a gleam of hope through the darkness Of a weary doubt to me. 1 see the foam of the billow Flash like the shining rain. Then fall Into silenc > and shadow, Like the rest ihut follows pain. J (>, wonderful, beautiful billow, XViIU your cbauuiiiK shadow and shine, Claspinv: the stars In your bosom, 1 think your life is like miue. Like mine, reaching through darkness From the restless, moaning sea. Pleading with ceaseless endeavor For a life tivxt can never be. Yon clasp your mantle, O billow. With coins from the brow of night; 1 grasp, through shadowy future, Sweet rays of heavenly light. Oh. life of a ceaseless endeavor; Oh, wave of the troubled sea; Star of the weary night-watch, Beacon of faith to me. O. heaven, with dowers of promise; O, earth, with travail and care: Soul of Uod's mighty conception. Peace on the brow of despair. I stand by the surging ocean— The starlight tails on the foam. And a feeling of rest comes o'er me, Line a wanderer nearlng his home. A SNOW THOUGHT. Oh! the snow came so tenderly. Like happy white nuns at play. And the outstretched arms of the o ik tree Seemed covered with silver spray. And two small brown birds were a-singing A dear little song of love. Like many white angels a ringing Pcaco to the world above. The leaves of the exer-green Ivy Seemed open books of prayer, Their pages of praise turned tcuderly By fair white spirits of air. Once they were sisters of charity. These little white stirs of snow; A blue-bell whispered it all lo me Oh! ever, so long ago. And the rough brown arm of the oak tree Was a gloomy convent small, Where sun-warm kisses fell cheerily ' And brightened the dusky wall. The leaves of the ever green ivy Were really white books of praise, Where the dear white nuns read reverently Their beautiful convent lays. And the little brown birds a singiug Were always the convent choir; And each little chorister ringing. Was worthy quite of its hire. So now when the snow falls tenderly, The spirit of song takes wing; Then grim leaflets of swaying ivy A beautiful thought I sing. CONQUERING A HUSBAND. "Uncle Phil has been lecturing me a gain I" exclaimed Mrs. Marian Dykes, 8S her husband came home to tea one evening. "I cannot, and I will not, stand it any longer," and the young wife dropped into a chair as though the last remaining portion of her strength had left her. What was the subject of the lecture, my dear," inquire! Mr. Dykes, with a cheerful smile, as though he did not re gard the situation as at all desperate. "You know very well that Uncle Phil has but one subject." "And that is extravagance, or the reverse, economy," added Mr. Dykes. "Of course that was the subject of tbe lecture ; and you always take his side of the question. Uncle Phil has ten times as much influence with you as I have. Whatever he say 9is right, and whatever I say is wrong," retorted Mrs. Dykes rather warmly. "If supper is ready, I think we had better attead to that next; and we shall have the whole evening to discuss Uncle Phil's lecture. Tne subject will keep for awhile." "But Uncle Phil will be here to take part in the disscussiou; and that is just what I don't want. He overshadows me entirely when he says anything,and I might as well hold my tongue as speak," pouted the wife. "Uncle Phil will not be bere,Marian. It is half past six, and he has to go to a church meeting at seveD." "Very well but I am going to have something done this time, I won't have Uncle Phil here any longer. If he is to stay in this house I shall not." Mrs. Dykes was very young, and her angry pout, as she sailed out of the room, made her look decidedly pretty ; at least so thought her husband. But before she was fairly out, the door o peued and Uncle Phil came in. The door was ajar and he must have been in the hall during some portion of the lady's severe remarks sbout him. But he looked as placid as though earth had uo sorrow for him. He was a man of fifty, though h's hair and beard were white enough for seventy. He did not seem like a man who could be very disagreeable if he tried. He had adeaconish look about his face, that of a serious though not austere man. Certainly no one would have taken him for a shipmaster,but he had spent most of his life at sea or in foreign parts. He used to read the Bible to his crew every Sunday, and never allow any swearing or other bad languige in his presence ou board ship. Though he was a "p3alm siuging skipper," no captain was ever more popular with his men then Captain Dykes. Uncle Phil had been married in early life, but his wife died while he was ab sent on a long voyage. lie had recently given up the sea, and retired to his na tive town, now an important place ot 10,0tKi inhabitants. He found himself a stranger thero.but at his own request his nephew had taken him as a board er. DEININGER & BUMILLER, E iitors ami Proprietors. VOL. 58. The gossips were not a little bother ed to determine whether the retired shipmaster was rich or poor, lie en gaged in every church and btMieyohuit enterprise, and contributed m<uleratclv of his means. Charles Dykes had op.vaed a store in Tripleton a year before, and everybody thought he was doing we'l. Mrs. Dykes thought so, though Chailes him self insisted that he was not making money very rapidly ; he could not tell how much until lie balanced his b >ons and took account of st >ck. In the main he was a prudent, canful young man, or at least was disposed to be so. Uncle Phil made a hasty supper, and then went to his meeting, lie acted just a little strangely for him, though the smile had not deserted his face, lie said less than usual, and seemed to be thinking very earnestly about some thing. "Do you suppose he heard what 1 said Charles ?" asked Mrs. Dykes, af ter Uncle Phil had gone. "I think uot ; but you ought not to say anything behind his back that you would not say to his face," leplied the husband. "Uutle Phil is a good man, one of the salt, of the earth. "He is altogether too salt for me. If I should put too much salt in the doughnuts, you would not like them Uncle Phil is sailer than L>t's wife." "I am sorry you don't like him, Ma rian." "I can't like a man who is continual ly tripping me up, and lecturing me upon economy. You ought to know better than be does what you can af ford." "I am sure nothing but his interest in us prompts him to say anything. If one means well almost anything can be excused." "When I said that I wished you would keep a horse so I could ride out every day or two, he read me a lecture half an hour iu length. Whether he heard me or not, I said just what I meant. You must get him out of the house in some way, Charles. Take your clerk to board,and tell your uncle we mnst have the room." "If I tell him to go, I shall tell the reason why I do so." "I am willing to bear all the blame. I don't want any one in the house to come between me and my husband," said the lady with a deal of spirit. "Uncle Phil does not come between you and me, Marian. That is absurd." "I have asked you, and eveu begged you a dozen times, to keep a horse. Uncel Phil takes sides with you against me." "But he never said horse to me in his life. I can't afford to keep a horse." "Yes, you can Chailes. They say you are doing more business than Tink ham, and he keeps two horses ; and his wife looks patronizingly down on uie from her carryall when she meets me in the street," added Mrs. Dykes, with considerable bitterness in her tone. "I know nothing about Tinkham's business, and Ido know something a bout my own," replied Mr. Dykes. Before the supper things were remov ed Charles Dykes had promised to buy a horse and buggy. It appeared to be the only way in which he could induce his wife to allow Uncle Phil to Jitmain in the house. Doubtless he was weak to yield the point against his own judgement. In the evening 'Squire Graves made a friendly call. Mrs. Dykes was very glad to see him, for he had a lady's horse to sell. It was just the animal she wanted, and as stie had conquered her husband once that day, she intend ed to have the horse trade settled that evening. "Glad to see you, 'Squire ; anythiug new ?" the young merchant began,do ing the usual common-places. "There is news, but I suppose you have heard it," replied the visitor." "I haven't heard anything ; what is it ?" Haven't you heard that Tinkham has been attached ?" "Tinkham ! Is it possible ?" ex claimed Mr. Dykes, glancing at his wife. "It's a fact ; a keeper was put in his store this afternoon, and an attach ment put on his horse and carriages." "That was all because he kept two horses when one was euougli for him," intei posed Mrs. Dykes. With her the moral was between two horses and one. Before the equire left lie had sold his lady's horse. Mrs. Dykes was perfect ly happy, and her heart began to warm even toward poor Uncle Phil. When the retired shipmaster came in from the meeting, there were a dozen things she wanted to do for his comfort. The lady had beaten her husband and his uncle, an! she was satisfied. Before breakfast tho next morning 'Squire Graves' man led the horse over and put him in the little stable. One of the clerks was to take care of him. Uncle Phil saw the purchase, but he MILLITEIM, PA., THURSDAY, JANUARY 17., 1884. said r.oMiiug unpleasant. He loolnd the animal over, said he was worth the hundred dollars to be paid for him in goods from the store. Marian even thought she liked Uncle Phil then. Tie did not prophesy any evil or disss („■. After breakfast the lady thought she would drive to her faih r's, in the next town. She returned in season for dinner. But Uncle Phil did not come down to that meal. The lady rang the hell a second tine*, but with no better re sult. Uncle Phil evidently did not hear the bell, for he never kej. t the t iblo waiting for him. Tho door was wide open, and she went In. The shipmas ter was not there. His trunk was not there ; the picture of tho Soabird, in which ho had sailed many a voyage,had been taken from the wall. Was it possible that Uncle Phil had gone without even saying good-bye to them ? There was a letter on the ta ble. it was addressed to "Mr. and Mrs. Charles Dykes." With the letter in her hand sho hastened down to the dinner-room. To say that she was as tonished and chagrined, would not half express her feeling. "Uncle Phil had gone V" she ex claimed. "He has left for good, big and baggage." She tossed the letter upon the table,for she had not tho cour age to open it. "Then I suppose you are quite satis tied, Marian. You have got the horse, and got rid of Uncle Phil," said Mr. Dykes,greatly grieved to learn that the worthy man had gone; and he saw that he must have heard the impulsive words of Mrs. Dykes the evening be fore. Mrs. Dykes dropped into her chair at the table, and burst into tears. Just as she had become reconciled t> the boarder, lie had lied without even a word of explanation. She intended to treat him with the utmost kindness and consideration, as a noble warrioi treats a failed foe. Just then she felt as though she would be willing to lose the horse to regain Uncle Phil. Charles opened the letter. It was very short, but there was not a parti cle of bitterness in it. He should still pray for them, and desiren to do all he could to serve and make them happy. "I will go back to him and beg him to come back, Charles !" exclaimed the weeping wife. "You will never forgive me." "I am very sorry he has gone, but 1 will not hate you, Marian. We will call upon him this evening at tlie hotel." They did call. Uncle Phil was ex actly the same as he had been before. He was glad to see them, and there was not a particle of change in his tone or manner. Both Charles and his wife tried to siy something about his leav ing their house ; but he headed the n off eveiy tirue. lie would not permit the matter to be mentioned. Tney went home, unable even to get in an apology. Both of them missed the kindly words and wholesome advice of the good man, though Mis. Dykes would not acknowledge it. 11 is good inllu ence upon both was lost. Even Charles became rcckles in his finances. The close of Tinkham's store brought more business to the young merchant for a time, though tlie bankrupt's suc cessor soon made things exciting for him. A ruinous competition followed. No longer restrained by Uncle Phil's prudent counsels, Charles branched out, and grasped more than he could handle. At the end of the year the balance sheet was not pleasing to look upon. Then followed a a reckless attempt to recover lost ground. Notes at the Tripleton Bank became very trouble some. One of tnem was given for a new piano. People said Dykes was liv ing too fast. Tiie young merchant was worried. lie had yielded to one extravagance and there was a long train, behind it. His next balance-sheet showed that he was three thousand dollars in debt, and his stock was not worth half tho sum. lie saw that must fail. After supper, one evening, he told his wife all about it- It would be a terrible hu miliation to fail, as Tinkham had; and poor Marian wept as though her heart would break. In the midst of the scene Uncle Phil walked into the room,as lie always did, without the ceremony of knocking, lie often called. "Uncle Phil, I am going to fail, for I cannot pay a note of four hundred dollars that falls due to-morrow," said Charles, bitterly, when he saw that he could not conceal the facts from the good man. "How much do you owe in all, Charles ?" asked Uncle Phil. "About three thousand dollars," groaned Charles. "Will three thousand put you on your feet, solid ?" "Yes, sir ; but at raise three hundred." \ PAPER POR THE IIO.ME CIRCLE "I will give you a check f• r three thousand in the morning. 1 will bo at the store at eight o'clock. 1 noticed that you havo looked worried lately ; hut. you said nothing 10 me." "1 could not sav anything io yoii.uu ele ; ai d 1 cannot take your money,af ter what l a.', happened." "Nothing has happened >\t, and with the blessing of (lod, nothing shaP happen." Uncle I'hil would not understand him. "Yon may help mo on ono condi tion." add-.il Chillies, lifter sonic dis cussion. "And that is that vuu will come 1) tck and live with us." Mmian joined in insisting upon this I condition, and the g< >d man yielded. Tie used no reproaches ; ho would not ' even pay, "1 told you so." The note i was paid the next day, and in the even* ingUmle I'hil was domiciled in his old apartment quite as happy as ilie young people. Chut lea sold the lady's horse,the bug gy, the piano, and other extras, and re ] duced all his expenses to a very reason* | able figure. Marian was happy again, and did not believe t'-ere was any too much sail about Uncle l'hil. She bad given up the business of conquering a ! husband. In fact, both of them have I come to believe that neither should conquer, or try to conquer, the other. After a while it came out that Uncle Phil was worth at least fifty thousand dollars. Doubtless the church and the missions will gt-i some of it ; but it is probable that Charles Dykes will bo re membered,though both he and bis wife sincerely hope that the good man will live tiil ho is a hundred.— Good C/uer. ORGAN GRINDER'S PROFITS. You sympathetic ladies who send nickels and silver pieces by a servant to the poor organ grinder who stands at your door, or who throw down to him from an upper window pennies wrap ped in thick writing paper, may like to know how much the man gets in t lie course of the day, ana what he does with his money. For the latter, he does not spend more than a seventh part of it. He puts it in a bag and then in a long, low chest in bis room, to save until lie hus cuougli to go back to Southern Italy arra live at ease. More often he joins every night a se lect club of fellow-countrymen, who stack up their organs at the end of the room, and gamble, gamble the pennies away in long and delieeous excitement. How much, think you, does lie earn? More than a carpenter, or a bricklayer, or a policeman, or a postman, or a salesman in a store, who wears gloves and a silk hat. He averages $1 a day. He labors systematically, and has his regular beat, and his varied art to ex tract the pennies from persons of each class he plays before. As be expressed himself in a moment of rare expansive ness, lie "plays on 200blocks every day, and it's a poor block that does not giye two cents." How to Amuse a Baby. It is an important question, and fre quently in the minds of young mothers: How can I get a little more time for myself and still have the baby happy ? I know of one way to do this, and having tried it faithfully can recommend it. After the morning nap, and the rest which comes after it, seat baby on the floor, put within his reach a basket in which you have placed such play things as are adapted to his taste; for instance, my basket this morning con tained a tin soldier on horseback, an impossible looking rabbit of red canton flannel—the gift of a friend who evi- 1 dentl/ does not 'commune with nature in her visible form," a piece of rope, a j ball of yarn, a few empty spools, one) spool of basting thread, which affords ! endless amusement; a few blocks of ir regular shape and brightly colored, and lastly a linen picture-book, a relic of some othercliildhood long past. These single objects amuse a restless baby for an hour at a time, and to be put on the floor and be allowed to unpack the basket is a daily pleasure; the contents of the basket can be changed, or better i still, have two baskets; giye one one ! day and the other the next; my experi- j ence with children warrants inc in con- ; eluding this better than a complete and finished plaything. They value some- j thing upon which they can exercise the imagination. Respecting the early postal faccult ies in Texas a writer in the Galveston News says: "The intelligence of the death of President Jackson was brought to Galvctton by the master of an Italian brig, whose craft bad stop ped at the mouth of the Mississippi and received a New Orleans paper con taining an account of the death of 'Old Hickory.' Neither the Captain nor any of his crew being able to read En glish, the panel* was untouched until three days alter the arrival of the brig at this port, when it was accidentally j discovered and the tidings were given to the people of Texas fourteen days ! after the President's death." What Millionaires Eat. Joseph E. Brown, of Georgia, is the wealthiest stud one of the oldest of the United Stab s Sen,iters. He is also one of the plainest men to be found any where. He may be called a "home granny." He wears long white whis kers and store clothes. lie Is fond of old-fashioned things, especially olden time dinners. The other day he sat in the cloakroom on the Democratic side of the Scuete with a number of his old Senatorial friends, smoking and joking. Finally the conversation turned on dinners and good things to eat. Sen ator Butler, of South Carolina, knows a good dinner as well as any man when it is served ont to him, and in his most eloquent terms lie told of how he liked canvass-back duck and sauternc, and Canada grouse and champagne and tarrapin and good old sherry, and ho wanted it served up hot, with a royal old crowd of boys around him. Then several other Senators named their favorite dishes. Senator Brown looked on and listened, while a stream of wa ter trickled out of his mouth. Finally, he broke in: "Well gentlemen, you may talk of your terrapin and champagne, and your crowds, and all that, but you may just dish up old Joe Brown and his old woman puddle duck and sweet pota toes." And he wiped his mouth o:i his coat sleeve and fairly worked his jaw at the thought of it. Tho Painter's Ruse. There lived in Brussels a celebrated painter named Wiertz, whose eccen tricities were such as to give him the name of the 'Crazy Artist.' That there was method in his madness the follow ing anecdote-shows: After having finished a portrait of the aristocratic Countess Ue Arraos, who pretended to be only thirty when nearly sixty, she refused to accept the | painting, saying it did not look any thiug like hers ilf, and that her most intimate friends would not recoguiz) a single feature of her on that piece ol canvas. Wiertz smiled kindly at the remark, and, as a true knight of old.gallantly conducted the lady to her carriage. Next morning there was a grand dis turbance in the Rue de Madeline. A big crowd was gathered before a window, and the following was whisper ed from ear to ear. *ls the Countess de Arnos really in goal for her debts?' Wiertz had exercised a little ven geance towards his noble but unfair customer. As soon as sue had refused the por trait lie set to work, and painted a few iron bars on the picture, with these words: 'ln goal for debt.' He exhibited the painting iu a jewel ler's window in the principal street of Brussels, aiul the effect was itstantan eous. A few hours later the Countess was back at Wiertz's pouring invectives on him at high presure—'to have exhibi ted her likeness under such scandal ous—'See. 'Most noble ladv,' was the artist's reply, 'you said the painting did not look anything like yourself, and that your most intimate friends would not have recognized a single one of your features in the picture. I wanted to test the truth of your statement; that is all.' The portrait was taken away, the city laughed, the artist charged double price, and gave the amount to the poor of the city. Fortune befriends the bold. Order is heayen's first law. Youth should be a savings bank. Silence never yet betrayed any one. Remorse is the echo of a lost virtue. Patience is bitter,but its fruit is sweet, A quiet conscience makes one so serene. Fools rush in where angels fear to tread. A good smile is the sunshine of wis dom. Conscience is man's most faithful friend. The worst men often give the best ad vice. Where boasting ends there dignity be gins. Let not tho sun go down upon your wrath. A good conscience is a continual Christ mas. Tho worst of slaves is lie whom passion rules. A man may smile, and smile, and be a villain. After the alarmed bystanders had al most frozen their lingers in rescuing an inebriate who bad fallen overboard from a wharf in Baltimore, betook up a collection, and with the 79 cents that lie got he sidled off to the nearest bar- i room. A merchant who had been a quiet spectator said: "This makes the fifth time that fellow has fallen into the water tnis month. I fancy it's his last resort when he wants money to get j a drink, as he always takes up acul-j ection afterward." Terms, SI.OO per Year, in Advance. The Bad Boy's l a in a Trap. When a man gets old and thinks he knows it all Iheie is no use Irving to 'argue wilh hint, so I unbuckled iny ! skat.es and pulled t hem off and ho put them on. Well, he wabbled about for a IVw minutes, like a feller that has | been drinking giu, and be held on to j things till he thought he had gut to his* beatings, whan he struck out lor the back end of the basement. As lie came along by the furnace one leg began to go over towards the neighbors', and lie grabbed hold of the corner of the fur nace, swung around behind it, out of sight, and we heard an earthquake, and something .snapped like a st e! trap, and pa yelled, 'by ciimus,' and ma (tame down stairs after some sassidge foDbreakfast, and she saw pa and she said' Merciful goodness,' and by that time me and my churn had got there. Well, you'd a dido to see pa. He had come down like a ton of coal, right on that steel trap, and it bad sprung and caught a whole mouthful of pa's pants, and about a pound and a half or two pounds of meat, and pa was grating his teeth to try and stand it. O, it was'tho most lediculous position I ever saw pa into, and he got mad and told me to unspring the trap. We turned him over and me and my chum tried our best to open the trap, but it was one of these traps with a strong spring, and we couldn't. Fa was the only one that could unspring the-trap, and lie couldn't go around behind himself to get at it; so I told him I would go after a doctor, but lie said this was a place where a doctor was no good, and he wanted a plumber or a blacksmith. ' Fa wanted to go up in the parlor to sit , on the sofa while I was gone after the plumber, but. the trap was chained to the furnace, and we couldn't get it loose, so pa bad to lay there on the ce ment floor till the, plumber e me. The plum Iter laughed at pa, and said lie bad done all kinds of plumbing before, but he never had a call like that. Well, he got pa out, and I don't suppose there is a madder man in this town than pa, but there was nobody to blame but him self. Say, do you see how I can be blam ed about it? A Puss Now in Fashion. "Arc Angora cats getting to be fashionable for pets ?' asked a repor ter of a dealer. 'Ob, yes, indeed,' was the reply; 'within the last month the demand has hcen quite large and strange to say I sell as many by mail as 1 do in the city. Only yesterday I sent one to New Orleans and last week one to Chi cago. They seem to Ik 4 rapidly tak ing the place of pups. Come in and see thecats? ' So saying, the reporter was shown into a room where a dozen or more animals with long tails and hair sweeping ihe floor were playing together or sleeping on hair cushions. Same were white, some tortoise and others mouse-colored, or blue, in the parlance of the trade. 'There are also black and chinchilla cats," said the dealer. 'These blue ones are the rarest, but the white cats seem to be the greatest favorites. Some people maintain that only the white cats are the pure breed, but that is not so, as quite frequently white cats will have different colored kittens. ' What is the most valuable cat you have? " 'This large white Tom is the most expensive; he is woith SSO. The other cats are worth from S4O to SSO. The kittens are w_rth S2O for the males and sls for the female.' The dealer then explained the differ ence between tiie Angora and the Per sian cats, which is very slight, the Per sians having a longer face and larger ears. The animals are very delicate and require great care in raising, colds being the chief enemies of the feline kind. Each cat must have u hair cush ion and bo washed regularly and rubbed with cocoanut oil. Birds and scraped beef are found to be the best food for them. A few cats are imported from England, but most of them are raised by a man in rnaine. —► In the middle of the main street of Aberdeen, Miss., are artesian wells several squares apart which supply the city with water. Every well is covered by a large pagoda, and the ground beneath is paved. The water runs from spouts into troughs, and passes off under ground. * ♦ ♦ • A few years ago cotton seed was regarded as a waste material, to be disposed of with as little expense as possible. Now it is not only em ployed as a general fertilizer on many plantations, but thousands of tons of it are sold at the oil mills, where, af ter the oil has been expressed, the cake is used for feeding all kinds of stock. NO. 3. NEWS PAPEULAWB. If subscribers order the diseontiuuntkn of newspapers, the mifltshcr* may continue to send ihem until all arrearages are paid. ' If subscribers refuse or nepleet fo take their newspapers from the ofTlee to which they are sent they are held responsible until they have settled the bills and ordered them discontinued. If subscribers move toother places without in* forming the publisher, ami the newspaper* are sent-to the former place, they are responsible. g ■" ADVERTIBINO RATES. 1 k. 1 mo. |ft me*. 6 imp. 1 your I square ? :w * 1 ih) | i?:on $6 00 18 00 4on <; oo l 10 no 15 00 18 00 \i " 700 10 00 15 00 30 00 40 00 1 " WW 15 00 1 25 00 46 00 "5 00 One Inch nnikea a sraavn. Administralnrs' and Executor*' Xotloi's $4.50. Transient adver. lisementsnn I local* 10 cent* ncr line for first Insertion and 5 cents per line for each addition al InsciUon. HUMOROUS. The latest sweet thing in cradles.— The new baby. The net to patch a man matrimon ially—the brunette. The polecat is supposed to have been the original " little one for a scent."' Society is very queer. The people most sought after are those who do not pay their debts. "Every cloud has its silver lining." The bov who has the mumps can stay away from scool. "How can a women Tell?" is the title of a recent poem. " How cin she help telling ?" would be more ap propriate. The man that parts his hair in the middle and wears dude eye-glasses may have brain, but it's no fault of bis. He inherits them. If the anatomy of some people were J constructed upon the proportion of what they say to what they do, there wouldn't Ik 1 anything of them but mouth. A quack doctor began bis advertise ment with the solemne and truthful declaration, " I offer my services to all who are so unfortunate as to re quire them." First Amateur (after a soprano tor nado); "Thank goodness! That's over! Regular screech owl, isn't she?" Se cond amateur: "You idiot? That's just all you know alwut it. Why her father's worth trillions!" "When I marry." said a budding school f/irl " I'll want a tall, fine-look ing man. "" There's where you're wrong, sis. "said her more practical mother. " You'll have less trouble watching an ugly man and enjoy more of his company." "I shan't begone Ion;/," remarked J uuiper as he left the house the other evening. "Not going anywhere in particular: only going out to take the air." "Be careful that you dont come in air-tight," was the injunction of Mrs. J., whose knowledge of Juniper's failing had not begotten confidence. Mamma (soothingly) : "Well, my dear, I wouldn't feel so badly about it, I'm sure. " Daughter :" Oh, but to think of all the trouble we've had sending to that milliner in Paris, and having a fight with papa over the bill, and then to have that horrid girl come out with one twice as stylish ! Oh, it's enough to make one go into a con vent 1" One night a woman was trying hard to get her drunken husband home, and as she pulled him along the street her words and actions were so tender that a by-stander said, Well, all drunkards' wives haven't your dispo sition. " " S-h-h ? don't say anything, she replied in a whisper, " I've got to call him pet names to get him home; but wait till he drops in the front— passage—be there then!' 'Judge, don't be hard on an old vet.,' pleaded a drunken loafer, who was ar raigned at the Central Station Court, Monday morning. 'Were you in the war?' 'I was, your honor.' 'What regi ment?' .No regiment. I sloshed around myself.' 'What army were you attach ed to?' 'None of 'em."Were you in any battles?' 'Heaps of 'em, your hon or.' 'Give me the name of any one battle.' 'Bunker Ilill,' was the prompt reply. 'Bunker Hill? Why that bat tle was fought over a hundred years ago!' exclaimed the court. 'Of course she was, your honor—of course she was. Do you think I'd be mean enough to ask you to go light on me for having sloshed around in any of these riots of the last fifty years?'— Detroit Free Press. MRS. TICKLE. Mr. Ilarry Erskine, who succeeded Mr. Ilenry Dundas, afterwards Lord Melville, as Lord Advocate of Scotland, happening to have a female client of the name of Tickle defendant in an ac tion, commenced his speech in the fol lowing humorous strain: "Tickle, my client, the defendant, my lord." The auditors, amused with the oddity of the speech, were almost driven into hysterics by the Jute replyiug,'Tickle her yourself, Harry; you are as able to do it as I." The cellars under Philadelphia's new City Hall are the largest in A merica, their area being acres. The first cellar is thirteen feet deep, and the cellar under that is of like depth.