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I II aW tBssaaw i f 1 I OK. x or st n s( nt pTtti sar rR ltd. . ! Sr.vr -Moa-rna, ... iw .SttTKES XO-STlM, t M BtahMiw aawmki hp ma.i br wko Lh w em hr .iMsinad. r kttrr Wtai ninmnl la Om wail talk arwlaar? r iba fi Wither, will bo! Im wwanurthO far ha. It t oat inlai in a4 aab saJaeriwir a aatftm waea Miacnsplrw, aawaaaBjstl gllaa tor pramf! MMMlk !. -!!! 1 et 9ar. raarior tberaa state. Saw ui !, TmT-lxiomi. t. Weakly, lofoTtlfa-iiwrrw-Jwaal. (Wsafcj) Saw Tstfc Wrvklf HeraM, Maw Tat. Wasklr Sua, Aowri.-an A erU-olirli . T , llsrw-r-s Maatfclf, ,. flurpar'a Weekly. ktjrprr Bar. W'wkljr; Marprf'g Ymmj Frof!. iWwfcU Tla't Ci!uImB. HriSteB, lWkr. Visaatrarg Wkl HeraM. t.tMpi.l UiWl. MerUiae), feat ...!. I itllutuwi, she vek at last ; aad, wondering threw A ift jdanc keen upon tb- aow ; Thai burat upon her startled view. A vast amasement filed her fare : Tb room was like a fairy pi.ee No tor ahe wished but it was lhtrr; Bright presents flittered everywhere. No gift her thought had Warned to prize But it waa spread before ber era; And present made her young heart glow Whoe eery names abe did not know. Bat look ! man with step of pride. And a sweet lade he hia aide More beautiful and high of men Than r abe had ever seen, Came, and above her wept and smiled. And railed her their poor towg-lost child '. The Christmas morn roae clear and briclit: And throogh the lashing fieida of light A band of angel sweet and fair. It seemed to me, came far to aea to the ChrUtruaa prarer. Will Carleton, in Harper' Yormg People The iJBSHBSaaBSBfaaaSBBBSBaBasH J.iaaaasaaaaJaiaMaMaaaalaiataiaWalaMaaaM him or i open Hon l hOK. T. Ilndaaaaaa. I tttMMaw Clarion. tiotvtha ire ean ah? s Cam .. a m wwt. care. :jzrzS at the recent Session of that bed . it not be wis to provide that in all is Loaisviiie, nr. stitution. receiving each aid agricultural and President of the Farmers' 3 . t S. . M . 3 W ;i -i 1 7 1 0. ? ! That answer Vol. Xlvi. Jackson, Mississippi, Wednesday, December 26, 1883. No. 52. AdTCI 2 w. w m. 1 w. m. I a , josr.ru 0mm ciiitisTfl is. it Ire 10 ... s lib j'. ;! 7i ti vm AiaxatfT aojit as i j a ? w 4 i a v ti w, mm Jtt Ui "MIlMKNMttN 4 1 n 1 M ) la ao 1; s:ss MM ft 00 10 II" VI ! W W fb Wl u mii m u im r mw awn so : 7 w ti ta it on it wt eja tajmaaM iit(.-.l li 17 w v. aesoav w.mm i4fl .tu-ai i ei ' "o no wwao ina 'im mo j lifting her hands, as if there w-ere some wonder in it "And mamma said you would let me go up alone to grandpapa." "And so you aAof, decided Mr. Os good, after a minute's hesitation. "I won't stand in the war of it, let master be as sngrv with me as he will. He is np in the drawing-room, all by himself." The man sat down to wait. And the child went up alone. Opening: tb door, she went softly- in, not speaking: perhaps the stem-looking old man, sttttine- there with bent PLAYTHO CARDS B h-C ich B him a. if thtt v TV foundations of his All aslttaiii L do. ler In inssrtioo, aaleaa I 1: 1. II.. . i iri-iSr aawl. Oa all rootra. ts of tl I "'r. . 6, ', W. TT 7",' m:Tr, a dir.iuot uf ten per eeat. will be allowta through With his days work be bad id in j i i - dined comfortably he sat in anwwv f --iI n.j!t, will 'sr iiiwrtd at taa rate pes I , . rf , , ii e psrword. ri ntseriioa ; e ! cliair in a Juxunousdrawing-rooui, whose . :.n:i..nal insritiwa. ani ;.-.ecata f crimson banjrines shut out tbe Htill . cold of the l)eeember afternon he nt aulld i bad iiotbtnz to d but enjov hituseif. It was verv ctr-inste thniarht old Jwpb f'oiding, that he couldn't be master of his own mind, lie he had lived a great awed her to aifence. Joih Ooldine. many years, and neither remorse nor making np from his deep reverie, saw a memory bad ever been in tbe habit of it.r J nnt tn Ljm. He took it me- disturbing him; but now it seemed to i chanjeajiv, sopposinr its messenjrer, hid den rebiiid bis large chair, was one of with old aire and excitement. that she was d nng wrong) recnu ban she said, as stsg, a befisared widow, stood noWe looking men and pleaded ot the rtstog generation. The look thev bore as she her sorrowful tale was tudiscii say that thev looked like cri the bar would be a faint d . Osual intellect, and of unexceptional . can imagine bow thev felt. flMHUSw Tb-a it.m mr- TnHMi of the ! At tntlul tn. Lu JJt . ' . I I ' . . I ...... . . that gray, withered old lady, trembling ! The Price Hapoleon I. Paid for Two Aii Afeetinf Vamtiva. la the winter of 1879 f had occasion to go from Green Bay to Chicago eat the Northwestern Rail war. At OaJikosh we were joined by a delegation of law-; vers, on their way to Madison, tbe can- ' tal, to attend the legislature then is session. Thev were all men of more than : Adr.fln aerist ihiu nisi. I. -si it.n. ti, rUfa (-ills lnffrd for mouth, ttiusl sid thi kal aattcea, as appear oa lora! pag I tSeawta i-r Im. m h inwrtion US am Hi'f rati, and thf will I rl to. his servant. With a singular quicken ing of pnlse, be recognized his daughter's writing. She had waited all these silent years, she told him. because she was deter- head, i Circuit Court, and one f had seen chair man of toe ouog Men s Christian As sociation. The party found seats near together, and after the first salutation was over, they began to look about for means to while away their time. After a white some one proposed a game of cants. sooner said than done, two ; nessed that scene ever tou seats were turned apart so as to face again. It is inst to sav that each other, a cushion improvised to j passengers came to themselves Jama tear kJL cannot j P0, tone. befottf those r.usd forth ! Ha. To mtsais at rijrtioo. I 5e old bbbbbbbbT her Potatoes is 1805 mined never to write to him again until thev tvtre rit-h r.ntiitrh for him to know Mr. tioldintr Iikel t o enjoy himself at ; th, aa t m r;, f...m r.r nwf nf th s season as much as others did, for it J hi, heI Thev had passed ten rears in was ( hnstmas Eye. bat tliough he the West, and Heaven had prospered 'tiir uiuutiiim in air-i iaji, uiva aaxaQx late on her neck. Tbe little one stroked her gray hair with one hand Don't err cran'ma. don't err, Eyes unused to weeping w many a mile on that journey. can hard iv believe that one CI THE CHRISTMAS PRAYER. r. fa il The winter lv wa growtaaaoltf ; the . . -11.11;; - l.r.-alh t-aiur hanl and cold Oreal ll arks of tdnasjs, with wings of uray S).m1 f.tJ.rv .now-Hake on thrir way; j n I hit flie i it) street among te I troupe ( ret daaced and sung. B it thongh the Ir.wt was keen and saTH, And ihOwgh lb air was biting cold, A thousand ga y ttepfuaatfist Went Mp SB I dowu the lighted street ; A th Hasans' bands, with pressure tight, tWere graapmg presents ri-h and nngnt , ii, , i mi h.-.rt- were lusting home To I, -.n, that I .ii-. d to see llatanensjif J',,i v. .n li .ii- el.idiii'ss liilel the air, A n I '.i IstBI ia.ere was t-vervwher.. -t-r,.-ly saw li glad' ad 11 said ! M llBl '? St. led t. a itlv -M tb Sw.-.-t t'bristuias -. ve, aerene U'hennli id,- lore that Jes I -.r lit:! on -. as. sniilinjf. He .With bandimi bead, in kindness ,- r' ,Sl I "I'M ! III "II l" l illlie , ,'f'.';e n thisswesrt lore, with little back, as ail ..: ones reweeww ia--K, the Ktval in. though longtime set, a tiowl the I-. uds in ssdeamOf crowds, d leaves trace of glory yet Vhcn all the kind thoughts of the y.ar tell leaves the day wherein it. lay. , ud t.i one bin saw! ilmir itrtwr near! bare is no space that can posses a an; smuea ot nrrnawj I .i.iv i and nhtsfiul'l ieei ann see, tan happy ChrisUaassrrc would be ! I rb,i bo lrrr bre- att. lr ff h Mm ii il 1i:m ni ! SWeet a solllld horn is where children are not found ; ml in one man-ion rich and grand Wife and husband hand in hand ere -iltiu by tbe tire light's glow, id gasing on-the streets below, id with .ol hearts unreconciled, ere thinking of a long-lost chilli. ri.-i cast it heaviest hand employ ben all around i beard the sound 1 silvery mirth and gotoen pry ; .nil hearU that mourn oft heavier weigh hsn hearts that laugh are over-gay. i i on the Christmas cheer without fids lonely couple gaaed aliout, IThil haogerins: one again to greet lie- reekh m rush of child tsh feat. n-tu.lud ease was all abloom bunt the richly furnished room: ie eoal-uro's soft and languid glare r .te ' ' .niii-r;" on the tempered air; uio the wall - great pictures hung, nd treasares rerywdera were Hung ; i ratrrdlw, free of ntahi or Haw, lelline over what they saw; pi east d eve could explore i , alace tbe pleased eye could expl lf Wealth had lingered there U.-fo Li'i t. in :n ny a humbler room. Th. ire. a rater comfort fought the gloom, H tppiness more visits made, to .re at ii toe, aad longer stayed, ii. t) el An i II I 1 1 V 1 B it b; foil c A...I j fl ive And. Of tii ' Slii i. lent. m . l Pbi i in 'lit coiititry, near a wood. iide little old brown school-bouse tiod, v i. waited while the winter day bked darker from its eyes Ot gray. ftr the rough I"or to open wide. noisy yoangsters ru-!i oatside, ie aame sharply from within gauntry sckoors peculiar din; Iq w ith glad shouts the children strode ab'h the dim day their winding way t A sisheiie ".'lit bir.l-beaten road, L the te. la: 'il hoilseB cheered tbe sight Hirogr A:i!ti -ady glimmered bright, .Veil j4bbbiic ! uie- . use i -.ace, .J laaklnsuiv ilaiietns 0Tl each face, lj. iu-t the presents all to mind yj .Sihc.i that eve were t. receive r i ally morning find, "i i i S ,nta Claus," that famous Kin;; -!i lore, was handled o er he treasures be might bring iMik ! with shouts and faces gay sd a pom bouse on the wav. t homeless toontag cmiu il a w indow g'taed and aaaued h otic : r children glad; ii or wistful heart was sad. itdrea aba, with lamilijer gay, that gleams ten through your dreams, presents oa each festal day, guanlad by the eflorts me isc im love and cherish yoti, forward to tbe winter's prime a sweet and joyful time, ii v.. in calendar enrolled; t firi-tuias-day is marked with gold, poor children who must grieve ise no presents they receive! I iok at yours with wistful eye, smile to view each token new, a their hearts they moan and sigh. fhat night otii little friendlesa one, nhen lu r p..or evening meal was done. Lwiil low iii grief her childish bead f pon the ragged poor-house bed, Lad in a swswil and pleading tone the made a hort prayer all her own : (O Jesus! Von who li.Trtl so well "he little ones of w hom they tell ISI when these came to ton one day, foil would not nave iiitiu stm . .-w,l to 11 i hose who ta-lieve ft they would ask they should receive. It) Je-ii- ' please lor me to una IT wo gts 1 nice parents, sweet and kiml, lAlllt asK tlieill II llie m uui ---" H take little presents by my bed, Frhat they my heart may cheerful nAke Bo-morrow morning wlien I wake, Elud 1 Ik made a, happy so Et- other children that I know." f iaeadd Amen," with reverence dees . oscil her blue eyt3 and fell asleep. in. s-.ill sat the ehildlese Couple whete The lkghu ol lnxury were lair And, still with thoui(hta all tempeat-tosaed, Kich silent mused, with sad heart bruised, L'poa the child that they had lost. Bat listen! with a siubien clang, ie Ion dly -speaking door-bell rang, il a detective's face they viewed. lb patient lines deep shrewd ; ;ar. the parmfTs uuestioning eve made icplv : at last with tidings new. Uil I've sought so long for you, ou lost live years ago. -ii. and lives. Her place 1 know, .-car who, with Satan's aid. ir to lu lu his piteous traaie, a count poor-house, where child, and she is there. r doubt can not befall ; proofs: I have them all. verv lar away ; .aid to bear theesna, .i-e another day. i a ae cold r What has HE oorne . I : looser trienniess nrou. niek '- And soon, m spiw 1 ?leet, the champing feet is dashed mta tne nigm. a alted just before jtise dingy noor. i softly erect tall room, while a stepi, the prayer . a -' iem, every word) . nWUCH lO I" er at evening's hoar ..o its weswy stem , rtyer in heaven now ueh apea bar brow : .mftwt they could trace -reoaembered taee. niraad. tis ejuld tafaraaj toveliasasa, , . et her slumber ana, ' Mr arih shall not wake "."-r ajMwwredeee """y may be." . aw was in tne iiatui oi spending it solitary: he liked solitude. For many a year on Cbrinttuias Eve be had sat balancing in bis mind the giett accounts presented in his ledgers. the accumulating cotters at bis banker a, the strokes of business be would make j in future. Xot so now. The year was i drawing to n close; some intruding voice j kept whispering Hurt tn tic manner so ! was his career. He could not put It j from him, try as be would. The voice remind. ! mni oi a coming tune vvnen bis life's work would all be dom even ; as bis day's work was all done now i when he would be ready to sit down in the evening anil look over the balance ! shift of his deeds, good and evil. Cu f riously the old days came trooping in slow procession before him. And he f had been able to ferget them tor so very long! His dead wife. He had not loved her j much when she was with him. but how i vivid was hi memory of her now! He , could see her - moving round the house, noiseless as a shadow, never intruding j ; ou It i ii i after he bad once or twice re- j ' pulsed her grufHy. but going on her own j recflk, still ways, with her face growing! whiter every dav. He began to under stand, as he looked back, why her strength bad failed; and she had beea ready, when her baby came, to float out Da the tide and let it drift her into God's haven, .'-'ho had had enough to eat and drink, but he ana new that be lutd left her heart to starve. Heaven! what a hard man he had been! He seemed to sec her white, still fuce, as be looked at it the last time, with the dumb reproach i fro7.en on it; the eyes that would never plead vainly any more, closed forever. He recalled how passionately the three-days-old baby had cried in another i meat just at that moment, moving all j the people gathered together for the j funeral with a thrill of pity for the pool , little motherless morsel. She km a pat sionate, willful baby, all through her baby-hood; be remembered that. She i wanted utiased without knowing what I the lack was the love and sustenance ; w hich her mother would have given her, and protested against fate with all the might of her infant lungs. But a- soon as she grew old enough to understand how useless it was, th had grown quiet tiK; just like her mother. He recalled her. all through her girlhood, a shy, still j girl, always obedient and submissive, 1 but never drawing vcty near him. Why ': j Because he would have repulsed her a I he repulsed her mother, lie could see it now. It was very strange these facts should come back to him to day. aud their naked truth with them. He had been a cold, bard, qngenial man, w ith out sympathy for any one human be ing; absorbed utterly in the pursuit of money-making. And so the child, Amy, had grown up without him. But suddenly, when she was eighteen, the old, passionate spirit that had made her cry so w hen a baby must have awakened again, he thought; for she fell in love then, and wished to marry. To marry in defiance of his wishes. He remembered her standing proudly before him after one of their quarrels, where be bad been harsh mid bitter, and abusive of the man she wanted te call ; husband. She had borne in silence re-j proacfa of herself; but not of him who ! had become to her as her best cxidence. ; Her words came back to tbe old man i now. "Father, do you know anything against Hurry ( fhnrch f "Yes," he had answered, wrathfully; I know that be is a poor man, and that he cannot keep a Wife as mine must be kept." "Anything else, father'.'" looking him steadily in the eye. "No, that's enough." he had thundered, "I'll tell yon, besides, that if you marry liini my doors will never open to you again, never." He met with a will as strong as bis own, that time. She did marry him, and went away with him from her father's house. Mr. (folding had known the day the wedding was to take place, and disdained to stop it. He washed bis hands of Harry Church, and of Amy, his wife. She wrote home afterwards, over and over again, but Mr. Gotdiug sent all the letters back unopened. Sub sequent to that, they disappeared from town ; and he bad never heard w hat be came of them. It was at least ten years ago now. It seemed very strange that these things should have conic buck to-night to haunt him and with a wild remorse, a pitying regret. He bad done nothing to recall them. Could it be bis sense of failing health that brought them'? if so, what sort of anguish might be not look for as be drew nearer and nearer to the ending? He began to wish that he knew what had been in those rejected letters whether Amy had been suffer ing for anything that money could sup ply. The next thought that struck him was, why he had opposed the marriage so virulently. It is true Harry Church had been but a clerk in his own employ; but be was a well-educated gentleman, and would rise with time. Faithful, intelligent, persevering, respected but poor. In that last word lay the liead and front of Harry Church's offending He, Joseph Golding, was rich then : he was far richer now ; but he could iot help asking it, what special goody were his riches bringing him? He was an old man, the span of life running ouickly on on, and he was alone. Who jfrotild take his gold then? JJa-ouhKnot carry it along with Jkjapau in a moment he ll cienrjw-ine areauiui iruin sioou ed and bare: bis life and its object had been mistaken ones. "All alone! all aloue!" he kept sayiag to hiuiself, in a sort of a vague self-pity. "I've toiled and worked for nothing!" But during this time, even now, as he sat there, a message of love was on its way to him. Perhaps Heaven had been but preparing his heart to receive it He heard a ring at tbe door-bell. Heard it without paying attention to it. Rings were nothing to htm; people did not come on business to his residence. , and of visitors he expected none. IX) wn ! went bis head lower aad tower with its weight of thought Meanwhile two people were admitted into the hall below: a man and a little airl. The man took off tbe child's warn : cloak and hood, and she stood revealed : ; a daintv, delicate creature of some eight i rears old; her golden enrls drooping . . . J L.a a aa ta a i a e . - - 1 SOftlV ruDDa nvr e, ni,u iu targe oiue eves aad cherry lips- The servant who admitted them, not knowing what to make of this, called Mr. Gelding's housekeeper, old Mrs. Osgood. The lat ter went into a tremor as she came for ward and looked at the face. "It's Miss Amy's child !" she exclaim ed to the Baan, nervoasly. "I couldn't mistake the likeness." "Miss Assy's that was," he answered. "Mrs. Harrv Church she has been this s Many a year "1 know. them. Her husband was a rich man now, and she wanted from her father only his love wanted only, that death should not come between them, and either of them go to her mother's side without having been reconciled to the other. "How did this come here? who brought it?" demanded Mr. Holding, ia his usual imperious manner. "I did, grandpapa." He sprang up at the soft, timid voice, as if some fright took him, anil stared ;rt the lovely vision, standing there like a spirit on bis hearthstone, with her white face and her gleaming golden hair. Was it real? Where was he? Who could this child be? But, as he looked, the likeness flashed upon him and he grew hungry to clasp her to bitn. ft was tbe little Amy of the old days grown in,o beauty for Amv had never been so wondrou.sly fail as this. "Come here, my child; don't be afraid. Tell me what your name is." ' Amy, grandpapa.' " Another Amv! firandpapa! He felt ' the sobs rising up to Ins heart with a great Hood of emotion; but he choked them back. "What have they told you about me?" he rejoined, after a long pause. "Have they tid you hate me?" "fhey always told me that you were far away toward where the sun rose; and If 1 were good they would bring me to see you some day. livery night 1 say in my prayers, '(rod bless papa and mamma, and (tod bless grandpapa." "Why didn't they bring you? What made them let you come alone?" "Mamma sent nie with John to give you the letter," was the simple answer. The carriage is at the gate, waiting for me." "Who is John?" '"I'apa's servant." "And where are they staying?" "At the hotel. We only got here this morning." Mrs. Osgood, hovesing in the hali, looked on in wonder. Her master was coming down stairs, calling for his bat and coat, and leading the child. He got into the carriage with her and it drove away. Mr. Golding was wondering va guely whether it was real. They arrived at last, and the child led him in, opening a door at the end of a long corridor. She spoke cheeringly. "Mamma, here's grandpapa, lie said be would come back with me." Mr. Holding's head went off in a swim. Advancing weakness tells upon people in such moments as these. He sat down ; and there were Amy's arms his own Amv s about his neck. Which of the two sobbed the told. Whv had 1 he lost through all these vanished ' years? "Father, arc we reconciled at last?" "I don't know, my daughter; until you I tell me if you forgive me." "There should be no talk about for- giveness," she said. "Yo:i went accord ! tng to your own opinion of what was j right. And perhaps I was to blame, : too. Father, it is enough that God has t brought us together again in peace. I ; thought that no one could resist my I little Amy. hast of all, her grandpapa." He looked up. The child stood by, silently ; the firelight glittered on her golden hair, her face shining strangely sweet. He put out his arms and drew I her into them, close where no child, j not even bis own, had ever nestled be- fore. Oh how much be had missed in i life! he knew it now. He felt her ! clino-infli bold round his neck her kiises i daughter ol dropped upon his face like the pitying dew troin heaven j and he was it him self, or another in his plate? "Father, see." Amy's voice had a full, cheerful ring in it. Her married life bad been happy. Mr. Goldiug turned at the call. "Here are Harry and the boys wait ing to speak to you," she said in a less assured tone. He shook bis son-in-law's hand hearti ly. Oid feuds, old things, were over now, and all was become new. In his heart, be bad always liked Harry Church. Then he looked at the two boys, brave, merry little fellows, of whom ho might be proud. Explanations ensued. Fortune had favore 1 Mr. Church; they had come back for good, aud were already looking out for a house. -N house but mine," interrupted Jo seph Gelding. "It will want a tenant when I am gone. You must come home to-morrow." "Tomorrow will be Christmas Day," sai l his daughter, doubtingly. "AH the better. If Christmas was never kept in my house it shall be now. I shall not live to see another, Amy." She looked up at the changed, thin face, and could not contradict him. Some one going to their Western home, had told them "how Joseph Golding was breaking; the news had caused them to return prematurely. Amy said to her hasband that if her father died, un reconciled to her, she should be full of remorse forever. You will come home to-morrow, all of you,"' repeated Mr. Golding. And mind, Amy, you do not go away again." But if the children should be too much for you, father!" "When they are, Til tell you," he said, with a touch of the former gruttuess. -The old house is large enough." He went out, and found his way to the shops open to the hist on Christ mas Eve looking for Christmas gifts. New work for him ! Dut he entered into it earnestlv. Perambulating the streets like a bewildered Santa Claus, he went home laden with books, and toys, and jewels, and bonbons. Mrs. Osgood lifted her hands, and thought the end of the world must be coming. "Help me put these things away, Mrs. Osgood. Don't stare as if you were moonstruck. And, look .here there'll be company to dinner to-morrow. Mind you aead iu a good one." "The best that ever was seen on a table, -if it for them I think it ia for." Well, it is. Miss Amy s comiug home again." "Heaven be praised, ar! The boaae has beea a dull one since she left it" "They are all coming- And they will not go away again, Mrs. Osgood. If you want more servants, yea can get them." It's the best Christmas greeting yon could have given me, master." And they came. Amy aad Amy's husband and the pretty boys were there; and, beat of all, the sweet little girl with the golden hair, sitting next to grandpapa. It was too happy a party for load mirth. Aad among them Joseph Golding saw, or fancied he saw, anoikrr face, over which, almost thirty ears ago, he had watched the grave-sod piled a face aad and wistful no longer, but bright with a strange glory. Close bv him she seemed to stand; and he It', aa much as mv nW i. heard, or fancied Oat he heard a whrhv iT. av child of hV" pe troat aer partea tips, toeagn n orth to admit a faiiii ot hers. lTi have come onlv from bis ova Yon are airs, isagoou, exciatmea the r" . " "JUmsea sata l .should be : serve as a table, and three ot the law- vers, including the chairman of the Y. 1 M. C. A., aad a Chicago runner on good terms with them, were soon deep in the mysteries of a game of euchre. I was surprised to see the Christian gentlemen, judges of the law and equal ity leaders of society, makers of pub lic sentiment, law givers of great state, j directors of public morals, supposed to ' be Dublic exemplars of all that is stood. and guides to the young thus setting publicly their seal of approval to a most evil and dangerons practice. To be sure, their-, played for atataw.no big beg than the cigars for the party. But it seems to me, in the eyes of all discreet per sons, this does not change the act or les sen the danger of its example but rather i heightens it, as trom the less to the greater is the invariable course of crime. I did not intend to moralize on paper I was about to say that while I was filled with such thoughts as these, one of the party grew tired of the game, and onr remaining judge was invited to take his place. I saw tbe blood mount in an honest blush of disapproval to his manly face, and he hesitated and drew back. But the game had become inter esting, and his excited companions urged him. "Come, judge, take a hand; we can't go on without it lhe judge rose slowly from his seat, inwardly condemning the act, as I evi dently saw, and stepping forward, took a seat among the players, and the game went on. I had noticed an old lady in a seat to the rear of the players, who had got on board at Menesha, T believe. Gray, and bent with age, she had sat abashed, and with eyes closed seemed asleep most of the time until the train stopped at Osh kosh, and took on board the company of lawyers. She then underwent a change, and became greatly interested in the j company, looking from one to another, I as if she recognized them all, or was j trving to recall their faces When the j game oi cams was started, sne Dccame restless, would hitch about uneasily in her seat, take up the hem of her faded apron and neverously bite the threads. Once or twice I thought she wiped her eyes under her "shaker bonnet," but could not tell. She acted so strange, I became more interested in her than in the players, and watched her olosely. She got up after a time, and tottered forward, holding on to the seats as she passed. She brushed against Judge in passing, but be bad become iuterested in the game, and did not notice her. Beaching the water tank at last, she drank a cup of water, took a seat near the door with her back to the players. But she did not remain there. Rising again with difficulty, she tottered back to her former seat, but reaching the plavers she paused directlv in front of aad said : , i ? re fired for AndI am wit-. :hedl card when the! tsygen-i adgft, who. rough the The evening before tbe battle of Ulm, when Napoleon I., in company with Marshall Berthier, was walking aeeo nifo through the camp and listening to the talk of bis soldiers, he saw in a group not far off an Irishman, who was a grenadier, roasting some potatoes be fore a fire of red ashes. T should like a roast potato above all j things, satd the emperor to the mar shal, 'ask tbe owner of them if he sen one. tiE.NTt.FMCK OP THE FARMERS' OoSt- : qrkbs As tbe representatives of the j farmers of tbe United States, yon nave , again met in council. r You come not as political partisans to. build up or null i down any party, nor to elevate this or j destroy that statesman, nor to wage war ; 1 i against any oiner :uuustr v ; oat, stand- James Buchanan Early Boraance. iaS Pa higher plane and looking upon .American agriculture as tne IOUn- Wben a yoang lawyer in Lancaster. Pennsylvania, be was engaged to be married to a yoang lady to whom he was devotedly attached. The biographer has given us. a brief but deeplv inter esting sketch ot tbe history ol this sad episade. A "lover's quarrel, originat ing in the gossip ot village girls, aepe ra ted them. Trifles arc causes in the philosophy of life, as in nature, which sometimes produce convulsions, catas- . 1 r . , . jjj I tropnes. i oung gins oi tne past gener ation in a country town were marvel- In obedience to the order, Berthier advanced to the group and asked to whom the potatoes belonged. The huge Irishman stepped forward and said. lhey we mine. most, could not be them, and now excitedly threw back ie never known what uer long bonnet anil loosed around at the company. Her actions at once ar rested their attention, and pausing in their play they all looked up inquir ingly. Gazing directly in tbe face of Judge , she said in a tremulous voice : "Do you know me, Judge ?" "Xo, mother, I don't remember yon," said the Judge, pleasantly; where have we met?" "My name is Smith," said she, "and I was with my poor boy three days, off and on, in the court-room iu Oshkosh, when he was tried for for for robbing somebody, and you are the same man that sent him to prison for ten years; and he died there last June." All faces were now sobered, and pas sengers began to gather around and stand over them to listen and see what was going on. She did not give the judge time to answer her, but becoming more and more excited, she went on: "He was a good boy, if you did send him to jail. He helped us clesr the farm, and when father waa took sick and died, he done all the work, and was getting along right smart till he took to town and got to playing keards and drinking, and then somehow he didn't like to work after, but used to stay out till morning, and then he'd sleep so late ; and I couldn't wake him when I knocked, he'd been out so late the night afore. And then the farm kinder run down, and then we lost the team, one of them got killed when he'd bin to town one awful cold night. He stayed late and I suppose they got cold standin' out and got skeered aud broke loose and run most home, but run against the fence, and a stake run into one of 'em and when we found him next morning he was dead and the other was standing under the died. And so after a while he coaxed me to sell the farm and buy a house and lot in the village, and he'd work at carpenter work. And so I did, as we couldn't do nothing on the farm.' But be grew worse than ever, and after a while couldn't get any work, and would not do anything but gsmble and drink all tbe time. 1 used to do every thing I could to get him to quit and be a good industrious boy . again, but he used to get mad after awhile, and once he struck me, aad then in the morning I found he had took what little money there Was left of the farm and had run off. After that I got along as well as I could, clean in' house for folks, and washin', but I didn't hear nothing of him for four or five years; but when he got arrested and was took up to Osh kosh for trial he writ to me." By this time there was not a dry eye in the car, and the cards had disap peared. The old lady herself was weep ing silently and speaking in snatches. But recovering hereself she went on : "But what could I do? I sold the house aad lot to get money to hire a law yer; and I believe he is here somewhere looking around. Oh, yes, there he is Mr. tpointing to Lawyer -, who had not taken part in the play. And this is the man, I am sure, who argued against him, pointing to Mr. -, tbe district attorney. And yon, Judge , sent him to prison, tor the poor boy told me thai be really did rob the bank. But be must have been drunk, for they had all been playing keards moat all night, and drink ing". But oh, dear ! It seems to me kinder as though if he hadn't got to playing keards he might have been alive yet But when 1 used to tell him it was wrong, and bad to play, he used to say, "Why, mother, everybody paars now. i never pet onsy rer canny or cigats, or wmuuiig use that" And when we heard that the young folks played keards down at Mr. Culverk donation party, and that 'Squireing was going to" get a billiard table for bis young folks to play at home, I couldn't do anything at all with him. We use 1 to think it was awful to do that way when I was young; but it lust to me as it everyooay nowadays erouslv responded to tbe t bat in hand, silently passed tb little audience THEV DinX T THI CV THOEBE OAKY. ' Uice a trap was baited With a piece of cheese; It tickled so a little mouse It almost made hint sneeze. An old rat said, "Thare' danger lie earelul where you i : "Nonsense!" said the other. tn't ibink vou know" So he walked in boldly Nobody in sight ; First he took a nibble. Then he took a bite. Close the trap together Snapped as quick as wink, Catching mousey fast there, 'Cause he dinn't think. Once a little turkey, Fond of her own way. Wouldn't ask the old ones Where to go or stay. She said, "I'm not a baby, Here I am half grown, Surely I am big enough To run around alone !" Off she went ; but somebody Hiding, saw herpaps; Soon, like snow, her feathers Covered all the grass So she made a supper For a sly young mink Cause she was so headstrong That she wouldn't think. Once there was a robin Lived outside the door, Who wanted to go inside. And hop upon tbe floor. No, no," said the mother, "You must stay with ate, Little birds are safest Sitting in a tree !" "I don't care," said robin, And gave his tail a fling, "1 don't think the old folkR Know quite everything." Down he Hew, and kitty, seized him Before he'd time to think, "Oh!" he cried, 'I'm sorry, But 1 didn't think." Now, my little children, You who read this song, llon't you sea what trouble Comes of thinking wrong ? Can't you take a warning From their dreadful fate. Who began their thinking When it was too late? Don't think there's always safety, Don't suppose you know more Than anybody knows Who has gone lieforc But when you're warned of rni Pause upon the brink, And don't go under headlong, Cause vou didu't think. in. A PEBSIAN ST0BY. Sadik Beg was of good family, hand sonic in iierson and possessed of good sense and courage, but he was poor, having no property but his sword and horse, w ith which he served as a gen tleman retainer of a nobleman. The Will you sell me one?" inouired Berthier. "I have only five," said the grenadier, "and that's hardly enough for my sup per." "I will give you two Napoleons if you will sell me one," continued Ber thier. "I don't want your gold," said the grenadier; "I shall be killed to-morrow, and I don't want the enemy to find me with an empty stomr ch." Berthier reported the soldier's answer to Napoleon, who was standing a little in the background. "Let's see if I shall be luckier than you," said the latter, and going up close the grenadier, he asked him ll he would sell him a potato. "Not by a long shot," said the grena dier, "1 haven t enough for myself. "But you may set vour own price, said Napoleon. "Come, I am hungry and haven t eaten to-day. i tell vou 1 haven t enough for mv self," repeated the grenadier. "Besides all that, don't vou think I don't know you in spite of vour disguise?" "Who am I, then?" inquired Napo leon "Bah !" said the grenadier, "The Lit tie Corporal, as thev call you. Am 1 right r well, said .Napoleon, "since vou know me will you sell me a potato?" ' No," said the grenadier; "but if you would have me dine with you when we get back to Paris," vou mav sup with me to-night. "Done," said Napoleon, "on the word of a Little Corporal on the word of an emperor " Well and good," said the grenadier, Our potatoes ought to be done by tan time, they are the two largest ones, the rest I'll eat myself." The emperor sat down and ate his po tatoes, and then returned with Berthier to his tent, merely remarking. "The rogue is a good soldier, I'll be bound.' Two months afterwards Napoleon the ureat was in the midst of a brilliant court at the pajace of the Tuileries, and sitting down to dine, when word was brought him that a grenadier was with out trying to force the guard at the door, sying he had been invited by his majesty. "Let him come in," said Napoleon. The soldier entered, presented arms, and said to the emperor, "Do you re member once having supped with me oft my roast potatoes. "Oh, is that you? Yes, yes, I remem ber," said the emperor; "and so you have come to dine with me, have you? Huston, lay another cover on your table for this brave fellow." Again the grenadier presented arms and said, "A grenadier of the guards does not eat with lackeys. Your majes ty told me I should dine with you that was the bargain; and, trusting to your word, I have come hither." "True, true," said the emperor, "lay a cover near me; lay aside your arms, mon ami, aud draw up to the table." Dinner over, the grenadier went at his usual pace, took up his carbine and turning to the emperor, presented arms, "A mere private," said he, "ought not to dine at the table of his emperor." "Ah ! I understand you," said Napo leon. "I name you chevalier of the i.. ...... c. . .1 . f . l. .. : . .. . r .... j :,. unci, sui si ei.i ui toe puniv oi .huik sit- it , i- . descent, and entertaining a ntto,?1" bis character, determined to make him going wrong in something or other, may be it isn't right for me to talk to vou, Judge, ia this way ; out it jt Bat! little girl. sore to see yon. "Hear tbe blessed lamb! remembers me. ibe talks of you of ten : were always kind te tier: you loved her. "Well, I om iny Aad she ga te me as if the sight of k.nl. weald kill ma. Jedee. It! if von only knew how bad I felt, you wouldn't play on so; and then to thank, nrbt here before all these yoang folks? M. r haL Jaadaak. u rtan't kaaanar lam i yoang tolas loot up to such as you; and 1 then I can't help thinking that may be if them as ought to know better than to O Cosseix told a story of an usher do so, and theat as are higher larnt, and a aa Irish eonrt one day being eatxiens all that, wWkln't set such examples, my a thin tne cvuoa, m wao taiasi wa. poor seat All Te blsxkwardkssi isn't lawyers, ibis pee th aad case will toward bm the husband of bis daughter Hooseinee, who, though beautiful, as her name im plied, was remarkable for her haughty manner and ungovernable temper. Giving a husband of the condition of Sadik Beg to a hidv of Hooseinee's rank was, according to usage in such unequal matches, like giving her a slave; and, as she heard good reports of his personal qualities, she offered no objection to the marriage, which was celebrated soon after it was proposed, and apartments were assigned to the happy couple in the nabob's palace. Some of the Sadik Beg's friends re joiced in his good fortune, as they saw m the connection be had formed a sure prospect of his advancement. Others mourned the fate of so fine and prom ising a young man, now condemned to bear through life all the humors of a proud and capricious woman, but one of his friends, a little man named Merdek, who was completely henpecked by his own wife, was particularly rejoiced, and quietly chuckled at tbe thought of see ing another in the same condition with himself. About a month after the nuptials Merdek mot his friend, and, with ma licious pleasure, wished him joy of his marriage. "Most sincerely do I congratulate you, Sedik," said he, "on this happy event." "Thank you, my good fellow; Tarn very happy indeed, and rendered more so by the joy I perceive it gives my friends." "Do you really mean to say you are happy f said Merdek, with a smile. "I really am so," replied Sadik. "Nonsense!" said his friend. "Do we not all know to what a termagant you are united? And temper and high rank combined must, no doubt, make a sweet companion." Here he burst into a loud laugh, and the little man actually strutted with a feeling of superiority" over the bride groom. Sadik, who knew his situation and feelings, was amused instead of being angry. "My friend, said he, "I understand the grounds of vour apprehension for my happiness. Before I was married I had heard the same reports as you have done ol mv beloved bride s disposition company of guards, ' Thank vou, heartily," returned the soldier. "Vive l'Empereur," heshouUd, and then withdrew M'Mahon was the soldier's name. One of his nephews played an important part in r rencli history later. A Wretched Mistake. For three years Mrs. B had been a sad, nervous invalid, when, by the death of an uncle, she came into pes session of bonds yielding an income of $3,000. At once' her health began to improve, she walked erect, and the lines of her face were curiously changed. Since her marriage she had become a beggar, and beggars are not strong in health or bearing. Her husband was rich, but careful about his money. He never parted with a dollar if he could possibly keep it Their house was handsome, and their table good, but while Dora, the servant who dressed quite as well as her mistress, was never obliged to beg for money, Mrs. B could not get a dollar for personal expense without explaining, urging begging. Visiting her mother in another State, she related with many tears the following story : I needed a warm dress, but so great was my repugnance to asking John for the means that I put it off till after New Year's. One evening we had com pany, and John was gratified with their praise of my singing. After we had re tired and he had spoken very warmly of my success in entertaining our friends, I thought the moment auspicious and mentioned the needed dress. He was silent for some minutes and then said: "Why, my dear, 1 thought you were the best di eased woman among them. Don't you think, dearest, its a foolish thing to go on adding dress after dress, when your closet is so full that you can hardly get into it? If you will take my advice I should say, wear out some of the dresses you already have before get ting more." "Not another word was spoken by either of us. I did not choose to tell him that the dress I had worn that even ing was my only handsome one, and that my only warm woolen dress was worn out. X could not sleep, and be- but I am happv to sav I have found it I fore morning resolved, come what might, 1 would never beg again, that vow i have kept During two years I have had no additions to my wardrobe, ex cept tbe woolen dress you seat to me Not one word has passed between my husband and self on tbe subject. "When I left my music teaching, with its large income and sweet independence and gave myself to John, it was easy to make me happy. I asked but little, aad you know, mother, that I. never shrink from care and labor. Now that dear Uncle Eben s bonds afford me the means to clothe myself, and assist my nieces as I used to, I shall forgive, forget, and be happy. John is urging me to transfer the bonds to him and let him take care oi them." "My daughter, will you do itf "Why, mother, I have kissed those dirty old bonds again, because they have made it possible for me to become a happy and loving wife, I tremble when I think how near I came te bating my husband. I shall keep the bonds with my own hands ! They are really aad truly tbe only bonds that bind me to life." From Dio Lewis's Monthly. quite otherwise; she is a most docile and obedient wife. "But how has this miraculous change been wrought f "Whv," said Sadik, "I believe I have some merit in affecting it; bnt you shall am. "After the ceremony of onr nuptials were over I went in my military dress, and with my sword by my side, to the apartment of Hooseinee. She was sit ting in a most dignified posture to re ceive me, and her looks were anything bnt inviting. As I entered the room a beautiful cat, evidently a great favorite, came purring np to me. I immediately drew my sword and struck its bead off, and, taking that in one hand and the body in the other, threw them out of tbe window. I then very concernedly turned to the lady, who appealed in some alarm; she, however, made no observations, bnt was in every way kind and submissive, and fans continued so ever since. "Thank you, my dear fellow," said little Merdek, with a significant shake of the head "a word to the wise," and away be capered, obviously quite re joiced. It was near evening when this conver sation took place; soon after, when tbe dark cloak ol night had enveloped tbe bright radiance of day, Merdek entered the chamber of hia spouse, with some thing of a martial swagger, armed with a scimiter. The unsuspecting cat came forward, as usual, to welcome the hus band of her mistress; bnt in an instant her head was divided from her body by a blow from the hand, which had so often caressed her. Merdek having pro ceeded so far courageously, stopped to take up the disserved member of the eat, bat before he could effect this a blow from his incensed lady laid him sprawl ing on tbe floor. The tattle and scandal at tbs daw ZIEz, 711" lTom anh to with n!f,d I "Ptfity, d the wife of MerdekW ia oft aaa : " aBla moment rhw mmnU ? r QjaaaakeSamawf t bat bm and i - Li V tt " 1 ialtBMBW . . z. . i mg nun to scorn, said. "TttbanMM ously Hke young girls of the preceding and present generation, the gossip of thoughtless children, scarce grown to womanhood, produced effects which they little imagined. The lovers were parted. The separation would have been oulv temporary, perhaps, but for her sad den death. In a very touching and elo quent letter he begged to be allowed to see hia dead love. In this he said : "My prospects are all cut oft, and I feel that my happiness will be buried with her iu the grave. It is now no time for expla nation, but the time will come when yon will discover that she, as well as 1, has been abused. God forgive tbe authors of it! My feelings of resentment against them, w hoever they may be, are ouried in the dust. 1 have now one re quest to make, and for the love of God and of your dear departed daughter. whom I loved infinitely more than any ether hnman being could love, deny me not Afford me the melancholy pleasure of 'seeing her body before" its inter ment" Perhaps to the unsentimental reader this is but a trifling incident in a human life. But, after all, the mighty forces which move humanity are tbe forces which come from the affections rather than from tbe cool intellect. Men have died and worms have eaten them, and this for love. He who endeavors to measure the soul, to analyze tbe moral and intellectual part of man ot woman, and who ridicules what we call sentiment, leaves out the most impor tant element in the whole subject of con sideration. When in later years Mr. Bu chanan became a public man, political antagonists, according to the accepted American style of political campaigns, raked out of the history of his youth this incident, misrepresented and fal sified it. The old politician, who knew better than any man in America how to meet and reply to all the attack and ac cusatious, true or false, of opponents, never allowed tbe solemn sacredness of this memory to be tarnished by any illu sion on his part. Once he told a trusted friend that there were among his papers letters and relics which, when he was dead, would if necessary, set his his tory truly before all who were interested. It would seem that before his decease he came to the conclusion that the story of his love belonged alone to himself and to her, and that it mattered little what was said here when be and she should talk it out where there are no gossips or scandlc-mongers. His exe cutors found a scaled package endorsed with directions to burn it unopened, and they obeyed the direction. lhe course ot true love, says our biographer, in terms of very simple elo quence, "ran in this case pure and un broken in the heart of the survivor through a long and varied life. It be came a grief mat could not be spoken of, to which only the most distant allu sion could be made; a sacred, unceasing sorrow, buried deep in the breast of a man who was formed for domestic joys ; hidden beneath manners that were most engaging, beneath strong social tendencies, and a chivalrous old-fashioned deference to woman of all ages, and all climes. His peculiur and rever ential demeanor toward the sex, never varied by rank or situation or individ ual attractions, was doubtless in a large degree caused by the tender memory of what he had found or fancied in her whom he bad lost in his early days by such a cruel fate." Tbe immediate effect of this sorow was to change the course of bis life. He had previously determined not to enter political life. He now sought excite mect and associations with men, and accepted a nomination and election to Congress. The village gossips who parted the lovers are responsible for a vast deal that has since occured in the hiitory of the United States. William C. Prime in Harper's Magazine for January. aation stone upou wnicu rests our na tional progress and wealth, we are here to devise measures for its advancement. Whether we consider the millions em ployed or the number, variety and value of our farm products, this must always overshadow all other industries in this country. As a body we have no consti tutional existence, or, I might rather say, our acts have no legal force; but the value of our action depends upon the prudence and wisdom displayed in shaping public seutiment, and conse quently the future policy of the Gov ernment. American progress is confined to no act or calling, and within the last decade our agricultural growth is one of the wonders of the century. It is no longer the ignorant calling of former times. but is everywhere regarded as an indus try demanding as much learning, science and experience as any of the professions of man. If, in the permanec.t organization of the Farmers' Congress, with representa tives from all parts of the Union, you have au association looking to the com forts and happiness of the toiling mil lions, then your labors ought to result in blessings to our whole people. It is, then, our first duty to look at POLITICAL POBTBY. Poor Little Billy Mahone Murdered tn Avalanche. The downfall of Mahoneism in Old Virginia, at the recent election, waa en thusiastically celebrated by the good people at numerous places in that grand old State. Among the jollifications over Mahone' s political death was a rousing one in Dinwiddle county, where they buried the petty boss in effigy and over the grave placed a wooden beard with aa appropriate i ascription aa follows : ' uttlk noea btlly. Died Not. , 1883. Bridging the English Channel- From the Iron Age. One of the latest of the many wild schemes which are continually proposed, but never executed, is tbat of forming some solid means of communication be tween France and England. The tun neling of the English Channel, which has for some half a century occupied the attention of the inhabitants of the adjacent countries, seems in a fair way to be superseded in the minds of cer tain enthusiasts by a truly magnificent but is to be feared, impracticable scheme which has been devised by M. Verard de Sainte-Anne for a rail way bridge between Folkestone and Cape Grisnez. The plan provides for a series of bridges'constructed on va rying principles, so as to allow for the passage at certain points of vessels with the tallest masts, while of course, pre serving as nearly as possible a level road for the line. The center supports are de signed to rest on the Varne and Colbart rocks, the former serving also as a basis for a solid pier surmounted hy a hotel. M. Verard de Sainte Anne professes to have made the most careful soundings, and is con vinced that the channel-bed affords a firm basis for the numerous piers, about thirty in all, necessary to support bis main structure. In the absence of father details it is impossible to say how he proposes to carry out his idea, or at what cost, but the depths and cur rents have been carefully studied, as well as the probable interruption of the work by violent storms, while the ex pense has been estimated in two systems involving the employment of stone work or metal. M. Verard estimates that the mail train would take about an hour and thiry-five minutes hi passing over the bridge. In a letter to Mr. Gladstone on tne suniect tne designer states he is convinced tbat sooner or later England and France will be con nected by some such scheme as that he proposes, and wheh he maintains is more feasible than the projected tun nel, which has given rise to so much ap prehension. While he stoutly repudi ates any intention on the part of France to ever again entertain any aggressive or unfriendly designs toward England, he points out that all fears on that source may be set aside, because, in tbe event of this bridge becoming n tint accompli, a little dynamite would in a few secdndx entirely destroy tbe over water communication. M. erard in tends to submit his calculation to the revision of an internaeional commison of engineers, so that the scheme mar be freed trom an elements ot uncertainty. He will then ask her MajestysGoverment to "promote in Parliament the necessary bills for the construction and working of the line." i ...... . . .. . Ikae I r iFjI3 w . Two Ways of Looking at Things. Two boys want to hunt grapes. One was happy because they found grapes. The other was unhappy because the grapes had seeds in them. Two men being convalescent were asked how they were. One said : -'I am better today." The other said : "I was worse yesterday." When it rains one man says: "This will make mad." Another: ""This will Two children looking through colored glasses; one said : "The world is blue." "And the other said: "It is bright." Two boys eating their dinner, one said: "I would rather have something other than this." The other said: "This is better than nothing." A servant thinks a man's bouse is principally kitchen. A guest, that it is principally parlor. "I am sorry that I live," say man. 1 am sorry that l must another. "I am the condition of the farmers in all sec tions, and wheriver there is distress, whether from Stat or Federal legisla tion, or from an Jnnwise policy on the part of the i'ainiers themselves, to see if some remedy can not be suggested. In the New England and Central States we have less complaints than in the South and West, and more in the South than in the West. Although we are told tbat in the Southern States the increased value of taxable property since 1S79 is more than $00,000,000, "still it must be admitted, as a rule, that neither landlord nor tenant there is a properous condition. The courts of record along the great valley of the Mississippi, as well as in the uplands, show that thousands of acres of the finest lands in the world are passing into tbe hands of captalists who have advanced supplies to the owners; and tbe number of deeds of trust to be found in every County Court show that, as yet, there is little improvement Probably the largest cotton planter in the world is indebted for bis immense estate, not so much to the extravagance of the original owners as to the system of farming adopted there and the heavy burdens of State and Federal taxation. In all the cities of the South hundreds of merchants own their thousands of acres, with deeds of trust covering other millions, obtained by advance. The facts just stated can not be con troverted, startling as they may appear. The very thought that such a condition of things actually exists is alarming, and is creating a feeling never before known of anxiety and fear among our farmers and laborers. It is said that diversified farming and the abandonment of the one-crop idea, with such legislation as the States can adopt, will prove a remedy; but is it not impossible ti have that prosperity we ought to have in all sections so long as the capital and labor of the tanners are burdened wnn sucii heavy I'eiierai taxation It is for you, after making B survey of the whole held, to take such action as in your wisdom you may think best for those vou represent. Of all the evils that can befall this great country, none can be greater than to have its millions of farmers growing poorer and its labor ers discontented. Tbe farmer has hitherto been the most independent and the most conservative element of society, and justly regarded as the safest depository of American freedom. Wi.h the rapid increase of the millionaires all over the land, the growth and powers of corporations every where, and the absorption of the best lands in the South and West by large capitalists, now long will tins mdepen deuce or conservatism continue? I am not tbe enemy of capital. 1 would not make odious any class of my fellow men. I would not arouse the poor men against the men of millions But it must be apparent to tbe most superficial observer that the policy of the past has been to make the rich richer and the poor poorer, and that this is fatal to the quiet of society and dan gerous to our free institutions. Then war must be waged by farmers, as individuals and in organizations, against ull legislation bv the States or by Congress giving special privileges bounties to one industry to the detri ment of another, and all exemptions from equal burdens of government. The humblest American has his rights; they are dear to him, and it should be the pride and ambition of the most power ful and influential citizen to sec these rights secured, and no man or class of men ought to accept bounties and ad vantages not given alike to every citi zen of the Republic. Our farmers can not understand why it is, in our State and National councils, so much time and nursing should lie em ployed on corporations and manufac tures, when agriculture, tbe -great source of our wealth, is al-nost wholly ignored. The primary object of this organiza tion was to direct the public mind to this tendency of the Government, and to arouse tbe tillers of the soil to a sense of their rights and the duty of working together for mutual protection. That Federal taxation in the way of import duties and internal revenue laws impose unequal burdens upon the capi tal and labor employed in ngricul.ure none will deny, and at vour last ses-ion at St. Louis, after a free interchange of opinions, this policy was unanimously condemned. Justice is all that any in dustrv ought to demand, it is all the farmer asks, and, however much he may contribute to the wealth and prosperity of his country, he loses that love and devotion he ought to have for his native land when he learns that it is the settled policy of his Government to discriminate gainst him. You declared without a dissenting voice, at vou last session, iu favor of making the Commissioner of Agricul ture a member of the Cabinet. This action met with universal approbation of our farmers, and the present Congress of the Lnited Mates will doubtless re spond to this popular wish. An active intelligent and progressive farmer selected for tins place in the Cabinet man having the confidence of the public and tuny comprehending the vast in terests intrusted to his tare could not only collect and disseminate valuable information to the farmers, but in the Cabinet could use his influence in be halt ot all measures to promote this in terest. In adjusting tariff regulations aud commercial treaties with foreign States, his position would enable him to coun sel wisely, and it would be his duty to watch with vigilauce the effects of all commercial regulations on hisown coun try and to suggest changes as tbe public good requires. The elevation of the Commissioner to the Cabinet would be a declaration to the humblest farmer that the Government of his choice, of his own creation, saw in the growing power ot American agriculture over the trade anil commerce of the world enough to justify this change tor his h email. It would be especially pleasing to have a watchful sentinel there, when the farmer is almost without a representa tive in either House of Congress, among oar diplomatic representatives, or in any ef the departments of the Federal Government With a member of tbe Cabinet with agricultural organizations in every State and Territory and a Farmer's Congress with representative from every Congressional district, we make a new departure destined to arouse a spirit of progress and improvement hitherto unknown. In this body the fanners meet and interchange views est all questions. Measures are discussed by representative men aad the decisions aiade sent to the remotest parts of the country. If all our industries depend upon tbe prosperity of agriculture, then the Leg islatures menu of arts should be taught? Our bova -would be imnreaaad in the tog of life wtth tbe dignity of law the value of scientisc ana pr knowledge. At a termer session urn vaiue or attal tarn statiatka and reports of .l o.. aa growing cropa lonawa atmim oiueers oureaus were tuily discussed. Tbe experience of every year sbons the importance of immediate action by our State authorities on this subject. No policy would demonstrate so dearly and fully the folly of tbe one-crop ya tern and the credit or mortage rytteaa of raising crops. Tbe statistics would enable farmers to compare Sta:. - th States, counties with counties, aasi neighborhoods with neighboorhoods. The figures would show fanners whrre' there is the greatest prosperity a: I . :e causes for it. Thev will prove to the cotton, wheat and tobacco prodnrni that they will be poor so long aa they raise a single crop, make no supplies and' bur on a credit. It matters not bna. rich the soil may be. or valuable its pro- uucis, or now great tne muustry a rut economy oi the landlord and tenant the twenty to 100 per cent profit p. aa prottt and for credit will keep tboskj ia chains. No legislation may reach this great ' evil, but this council of farmers may do something ia directing the public tniud to this dangerous course. It is impossi ble to exaggerate the value of reliable crop reports in this age of ganibin, corners and moneyed combinations, l ake cotton as an illustration. The estimates vary under the present system a mil to two million bales every season. TI foreign and domestic buyers base their action on the very highest estimate, and the cotton under mortgage is pm forward aad sold without regard t. t: value or cost of production. This :, our most reliable commercial crop, a;. , strange to say, all who touch it an riched, except the men who make it. The farmers of the whole country an interested in seeing cotton producer., combine for their own protection, and thereby secure control over tho fruits of their own labor. We are told tbut u Western man gets rich growing grain or gasses at from tl8 to t'2U per acre, while the cotton-grower, getting $30 or 40, is unable to pay his debts. Every friend to our material growth is interested m knowing the cause of this difference and to aid in its removal. Briefly, I have noticed some of the questions you may think it necessary to consider. During my term of office, and long before the existence of this orgaoi zation, I have labored with all the zeal and energy L possessed to arouse our farmers to lhe great need of a national agricultural organization one with rej rescntatives from all sections that could speak in their name. The future is bright and cheering if we w ill do our whole duty here and in the States w represent. The North, East and West arc fully awake, and the great Exposition at lanta, the Southern Eposition at Louis ville and the deep interest taken in the World's Exposition at New Orleans in 1884 show that the Southern farmer in tends to keep pace with the OQward movements, and will leave nothing un done that labor and toil will accomplish. Mv term of office closes with vour present session. I can serve you no longer. I am sensible of the high hom repeatedly conferred upon me, aud will ever remember your kindness and indul gence. As a private in the ran!;-, whether ever again a menilicr of this body or not, I shall ever work for great industry of which vou arc honored representatives. the tho A Dangerons Kind of Bribery Chicago Tribune. The bill introduced in the House by Representative Vance, of North Caro lina, to put a stop to the acceptance by members of the Government of bee passes from any railroad or telegraph company, or of stock from any banks, strikes a direct blow at a form of bribery which is very corrupting and appears to be on the increase. It is tbe invariable practice of every General Manager of a railroad to issue passes to tho members of the legislature of the States through which his road runs, as well as to tko State officers ami to the Judges of the courts. One of the New York papers recently published a fac simile of a past issued to one of the Judges of that State- on account, the pass read, "of the Supremo Court," and a similar cxao'" could be made fs every State in tho country. lhe proceedings of our courts. St , and National, and of the le?ilntiv.. bodies all over the land show niainl- enough tho undermining effects of ac cepting this kind of gratuity from cor porations that are continually beioro the the Legislature! for new franchises ami before the courts for settlements of dis putes between them and the Judges who travel across the continent to their seats in Washington in special cars lurnished by railroads who Sn,... millions of dollars at stake in the de cisions ot the supremo Court nni wonder if they find it verv diffiruit see tbat the settler has any rights the lauu-grain, roans are pound to rentier If they paid for their special cars th. . might in tbe course of time also see th road whictt does not own its la.!. enough to pay taxes on them docs no own them enough to issue bonds on the security of them. lhe concessions which aro mado ai every session ot our legislatures t' decisions which are pronounced by our courts against the public aud in favor of the corporations, show how powerful is the bias which our law-maker and law-parsers have in their favr Ti... supreme uourt of a Western State ha-sr- rfntlv iIaiiimI ttm mII.I . 11 -j - ..-..uu I., nu owner o: property upon whose lnH . i. company had without previous condei nulinn u illinnt ....1.1.. . """""i aiug permission for a private purpose, and without the'wur rant of its charter, laid iu track Th court took tho ground that the owner ol the land must prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that the railroad was in the wrong. It did not call tho corporation to account to prove that it had any right upon privite land. It waa the cit iren who had been assaulted in bis prop erty tbat was put on the defensive, not the corporation which had attacked i The whole drift of legislation and de cision has been in favor of corporation i aud againat the people, except in th special instances where an arouaed pub lie sentiment haa made itself felt with irresistible force, as in the Granger cast s. That the railroad corporations are abb to influence the courts and the Legisla ture by passes is conclusively proved by their giving the passes. Ilailroad men are, as Vanderbilt said, running their roads for money. They do not give transportation away to iegislat and judges for nothing. They expect to get a quid pro quo for every pass f,, if they did not the Judges and K... and Representatives would have to n or pay their fares. Men will take the gift and be influenced by them, perhai unconsciously, who would refuse xiba with real indignation. M, v.. should press his bill and get the yea, and nays recorded on every vote 1j be should so amend it as to punish th -man who offers to Das an oaW -i.. cepts It ' a The "Trade Dollar." Thetrade dellar is worrvin as.. f busine. men. an.1 ' VK.'Tw?"1': Board of TraH. K.. - in "KaBi'H-; ih. v ,.ir:r"""waeoriai me imnasataawaTsaSBwaaa , provida for the redemnti ! nr. r ;,.. U.. .1 ' OP w government and speedyj withdrawal From ciranlaSl nouston f ree South. - - - W.IJVJ i circulation Tha aiual --J I ... iii C ph oi ail matin i will mat Atilw .!. j FT be ar-arJ. 7.1.: 7 1U -uu just, ror th more silver .,. -Abe rd sea Examiner. ' will be for Z.r that a "rtmiwieisaaw sJti.n - .... " uui will Th be absolutely fair and ;. ? T dollar" r-;.lM J "7, w standard cola. Wa observe thataomn miu . - .it .rria non T1" -eaaean trade uectaring that w. a great many bm sell Of eo coarse we we tive-tarir should J HISU