Democratic Northwest. [volume], July 10, 1890, Image 9

About Democratic Northwest. [volume] (Napoleon, Ohio) 1869-1894

Image provided by: Ohio History Connection, Columbus, OH

                
THE DEMOCRATIC NORTHWEST, THURSDAY, JULY 10. 1890.
A TINDER. CHORD,
sx uaxda h. caocm
fltntug , there yon'r. npxl a chord Tt
rather never hear,
'9h& upon bit soul it Is the eweetwit to my ;
But, 7. stw, I'd kinder lost 'em pleu thota,
j mow, of yore
Ao4 Iwith I'd altogether, seein's they return
BO mora.
Tm, yonr tellln' of tlu homestead an' yer
mother at the door,
Watohln' for her boj a-comln' with the eowi on
jett afore,
Kake me think o' tlrnse that's drifted out be-
Vint the eetUn' lull,
LeTin' me, a Tag, to wander op and down till
x am done.
Vn bin trrfn' to forget It, sames I would a
troubled dream,
' AH that nettled there together In the bandin' of
the stream ;
Tom the cabin in the orchard, where the ihad-
den u iter steal.
To the bridge an' clump o' elderi jest above my
J1UHWWBW1,
Bat yer talkin' of yer childhood bring! mine
uaca agm to me.
As' the thingt I hed forgotten are the yery one!
An' I hear agin my mother oallin' me her darlin'
Hot.
An' I raley wonder, mister, if I aint her little
Seemi aiif I were barefooted, with the rim an
off my hat,
Bonnin' 'cro the fields at sunset for the cattle
In the "flat;'
Seems to me I hear the tinkle of the bell that
Uherry wore,
An' look back an' see my mother itandin' In the
kitchen doorl
An' I smell the bloomin' clover, as I skip along
the ridge; .
An' bear the clutter, olutber of the wheel below
the bridge ;
Later then my motWoomin' with the milk-pall
on her arm,
An' the talks, as she is mllkln', of the prospects
. of the farm.
later still I skip before her, pnttin' down an' up
the baft,
"Whtjtlin' to the whip-poor-will an' eonntin' big
gest stars, I
. 'Watohin' swallers skim the lenlth, blxsy with
their eveutn' meal,
IiBt'nin' to the milk a-atralnln' while the shad
ders round na steal.
Seems to me I hear her hnmmin' of the hymns
sheuater know:
Patient, hopeful mother alien but, my friend,
that's long ago,
. Am', ye see, I'd kinder lost it, pleasant picture,
stained by time,
, If X hadn't heard yer Story of yer happy auld
langsyne.
, But ye twanged a chord Tibratln" with a bub
blin', childish joy
That's bin mighty silent, mister, semie I was a
little boy ;
An' that's why, tho' ttaethe sweetest to my lone.
ly, friendless ear,
That I kinder wish ye'd missed It, -for I'd rather
Beyer hear. ,
Bichlamb, Mich,
BETRAYED;
A DARK MARRIAGE
MORN.
A Romance of Lope, Intrigue and
Crime. ,
BY MBS. ALICE P. CARBISTON.
CHAPTER II.-Contlnaed).
It wag nine o'olock in the evening be
fore Kay called at Eugene's room. '
He found him as he had expected, writ
ing; and after tarrying for half an bonr,
and speaking what words of encourage
ment lie could thick of. he left, feeling
that it would be a relief to his friend to
have hm do so.
-The next morning when he arose, Eu
gene found a busiuess letter awaiting
aim. After a wondering glance at the en
velope he tore it open. The letter it con
tained was brief and to the point:
"Dear Sib I am greatly in want of
an efficient book-keeper. You have been
stronaly recommenced to me, and I offer
yon the position. The salary I am pre
pared to pay is one thousand dollars per
annum. If you aocei t, I should bs glad
to have yon enter upon your duties to
morrow morning. Respectfully, etc.,
"John Norion. Publisher,"
1 For some moments Eugene was almost
unable to speak, or; for that matter, even
to think; but presently he was more him
self, aha "then the t ruth Hashed upon him.
"John Norton? Why, that's Ray's rela
tive. Ahl I see it nil now; this is his do
ings, or no! it's more like Meta. I must
go to them t ncej" end he went.
Yes, it was Meta's doings. Bay had
hastened home from the bank, and, full
of the subject, had told hi-r everythinu.
Without a word, but with pale face and
quivering lips, shehd hurried to her own
room, and after dressing for going out,
had hastened through the sitting-room,
saving, as she pa-Bed into the hall:
''Brother, I hope to be back in an hour!
If I do not come, don't worry; I shall be
safe," and then she had almost flown to
the publisher.
He heard her story, gave her a hundred
dollars, telling her to see that it was
handed to Eugene on the morrow, and
then told her that their friend Should not
want for employment.
. ' And thus it was that young Cleveland,
on this next morning after his dismissal
from the bunk, found himself far better
off, in a worldly point of view, than he
had been on the day before.
In the dark hour ot bis trouble and
, disappointment he had written a letter to
sweet and trusting girl in a pretty New
England Ullage, informing her that he
had lost his situation, but saying never a
word about the woman who had caused
his disgrace.
On returning to his room after his seo
s nd day's service at the publishing house,
he found a note on his table. It was
imply this: -.--.
"Come to me, my own love, and be
comforted. I am here at my aunt's.
.'" ' - '." . MILDRED. :
"298 West Thirty-second street.
, "Tuesday morning." . "
Euttene gave a giad shout of satisfac
tion, and started for Thirty-seoond street
art once. -:'
Ah! how much (hose two had to say to
each other! How earnestly aha rpoawiod
hisa- how eagerly she watohed his every
movement!, w.,".i,,j. M" - v..--"And
so yon are to have one thousand
I dollars a year, now?" she said, at last
i "Yes, dear; that is to be my salary."
"Isn't that great deal I mean, won't
it snoport you qnite comfortably?"
" "lea, indeed; ana my little wife, too,
if she will be my wife. What do yon
; .ay, Mildred?" .. -
I soe very clearly," she responded de-
-vVinlv, 4ln ,1 i 1 . T oaw iraa wnn will
iuiuvij,. IUM uuiica wj jw " "
be getting into fresh trouble a rectly." -;
"Ah! then yon consent, -Bess you,
. Mildred bless yon, my own .darling!"
And he oovered her lips wjth kisses.
CHAPTER tO.
Mildred Lester's home was a pretty
. 'tine-covered cottage,- in an attractive
New Englnnd village on Long Island
Sound, where her whole life had been
passed I quiet happiness with her wid
owed mMher.
She was less than ten years of apt
when Eugene Cleveland, then in his sev
enteenth year, first saw and became inter
ested in her; but it is not to be supposed
mat sue ieit drawn to warn nun at that
time.
Uer mother, however, who was still
far from old. took sudden and crest
liking to the boy, i.nd when she discov
ered his msnitest preference for her
child, gravely, and even earnestly, de
clared to him that it should be the one
great object of her life to train her up to
be worthy of hU love.
Eugene was delighted, and from that
moment not only the more diligently
worshiped his little friend, but included
her mother in his devotion.
And so the years passed happy, joyous
years, with hardly a . care. But at
length misfortunes oame, and the young
lover lost father and fortune at the same
moment.
Then, through his uncle's inflnenee, he
became a book-keeper in the Atlantic
National Bank.
Bow he lost his situation we already
know, and we also know with what tender
solioitude Mildred, who had long since
learned to love him with all her heart,
had flown to his side, to be with and to
comfort him.
Time sped swiftly by; the wedding
day was fixed, and was rapidly approach
ing. The only question that had not been
settled wan the place where the ceremony
should be performed. Should it be at the
widow's cottage in New England, or at
the bride's aunt's in New York?
"I am afraid, love," said Eugene, one
evening, when this question was brought
up, I am afraid that it will have to be
here, though I should like so much to be
married at your own dear home, where
we have both known so much of happi
ness." "And why can't we?" :
"Why, you see, dear, we are so busy
now. I am wanted at the publishing
house every moment in the day, and hav
ing been there so short a time, I hardly
see my way clear to asking for a leave of
absence, even with so important an object
in view as taking to myself a wife. So I
think your mother had better oome down,
and that the ceremony had better be
quietly performed in the evening, after
the business of the day is over."
"But I fear mamma may not be well
enough to oome down," objected Mildred.
"Not well enough?" repeated Eugene,
wonderlngly.
"Ah!" sighed Mildred, "yon don't know
how fast she has been failing lately.
Why, she can no longer go out of doors.
It is even as much as she oan do to get
from one room into another at times."
"Good heavens!" he exolaimed, "that's
bad. I am very sorry to hear that;" and
then, after considering for a moment,
"but, dear, we must have her with us
someway." .
"I fear she'll think it best not to at
tempt to come to the wedding," said Mil
dred; "but she may come to us after we
return from our bridal trip."
"I am afraid you have not quite under
stood me, Mildred," said Eugene, gently;
"we sha'n't have much of a bridal trip, I
think."
"What! Not have any bridal trip at
all?" exolaimed Mildred, in a disappoint
ed tone.
"Why, really, my darling, I don't quite
see how we could have much of one, any
way," he responded.
"In the first place, as you see, I oan't
very well get the time, and if, as I great
ly desire, we go to house-keeping at once,
as my friend Raymond Fielding and his
Bister have done, why, we shall require
all my surplus oash to purchase our fitting
out."
"It will hardly seem like eettlne mar
ried, not to have a wedding trip," mused
Mildred; "but I can very well see that it
will harflly be practicable or wise to un
dertake one."
"I knew you would look at it in thrt
light, my dnrling," exolaimed Eugene,
approvingly, "and now about your moth
er, Mildred; let us settle that."
"Ahl I will write to her at once, and
find out what suggestions she has to oiler.
But, say, Eugene, couldn't we take the
4 or the 4:30 train up, get married at our
bouse in the evening, and then return by
the early train the next morning"?"
-Why yes; 1 think we might possibly
manage that. At any rate, write and see
what your mother save, and when we cet
her answer we can settle all details more
intelligently."
Mildred did write that very night be
fore preparing for bed, and two days later
the answer came.
Mrs. Lester professed herself as very
much surprised at the haste the young
couple were making, but did not attempt
to dissuade them from carrying out their
plan. .
One thing, however, she made very
clear. She oould not possibly bear the
exoitement of a wedding taking place in
her house. -
She suggested, therefore, that tbev
should be quietly married at her sister's;
have tt brief reoeption afterward, if per
fe tly agreeable to her, and then take a
late train to Riverside, and spend one
night at the cottage.
After they had been married a month
or so, she further said, she would, if they
wisnea it, rent ner i.uie cottage, and
make her future home with them.
As nothing better could be done, they
conoluded to act wholly on Mrs, Lester's
suggestions. . ,
Mrs. Vernon, Mildred's aunt, cheer
fully consented to h ive the wedding and
reception take place in her parlors, and
so the necessary arrangements were made,
and the invitations cent out. '
It was not their intention to ask a great
many to congratulate them; bnt Eugene's
acquaintance in the city was large, and
Mrs. Vernon had a host of friends, whom,
she said, it would not do to slight on
such an occasion. - -:
. So that, when the list oame to be re
vised for the last time before the event
ful day, they found there was still quite
an army left, after dropping every name
they oould find my excuse for rejecting.
At last the wedding day arrived. Eugene
had seen Kay the night before;- and re
ceived from him the assurance, thut he
would bo promptly on hand.
"As for Meta, poor girl," he had said,
"I don't know whether it will be possible
for ,her to be present or not. She hasn't
been at all well for some days past, and
when I left her this evening she said she
hardly thought she should try to sit up
till my return; and, by Jove, old fellow,
if she don't let me in to-night, it will be
the first time she's miBsed since we've
kepthouse together." - ; ; V '
The marri'ige was to take plaoe at an
early hour, and only a favored few were
to witness the ceremony. ' - -
- The appo nted hour arrived, the min
ister was on hand. . They only waited for
Ray and Meta.
Five ten fifteen minutes passed, and
still the expected guests did not appear.
, The minister looked impatiently at hi
watch; ho had another engagement, and
the time wi.i slipping by. Moreover, it
was nearly the hoar tor the reoeption.
"I would suggest." whispered the cler
gyman, meeting Eugene is the hall,, "that
the ceremony be no lonver delayed.
Doubtless your friends have been unavoid
ably detained." i
"We will wait Inst fira ninntaa." ra.
joined Kugene, "and if. t ey are not her
tuea, no a minme longer."
"Very well," and the minister turned to
answer a remark ot the bnde s annt.
The five minutes passed; still no Bay
no Meta. They must give them up.
Eugene, who had been to the door for the
tweutieth time, closed it once more and
went up stairs to fetch the bride.
The oeremony was quickly over; the
clergyman, as in duty bound, kissed the
bride, and the happy eouple received the
warmest congratulations of their friends.
And now other guests began to pour in,
and the house filled np rapialy.
Presently, while .Eugene and his wife
were sunounded by and were converaing
with a number of their guests, the foot
man who had been engaged for the occa
sion made his way to him and placed a
sealed note in his hand.
" 'Urgent,' the bearer requested me to
say, sir," he said, witba bow, and then
discreetly withdrew.
"Excuse me," said Er.gene, and won
der in gly he opened the note.
His wife, who as watching his face
with eager interest, saw a strange look of
fear, remorse or alarm settle there, and
was about to speak, when he hastily ex
claimed: "I must leave you for a little while,
dear; I am very sorry, but it can't be
helped. I shall be back in ample time to
take the train. Don't let it be generally
known 'that I am gone." And with a
hasty glance at those about him, he left
the room.
A strange sense of impending evil
weighed upon poor Mildred s heart, and
she even thought that those around her,
.who had seen her husband's hasty with
drawal, partook of the feeling.
. Fifteen twenty minutes passed. She
thought she would find her aunt, and ask
her what it could possibly be that had
called her husband from her side at such
a time.
She, had just reached the hall when
some one pulled the bell.
A senBe of dread seized her, and, elasp
ng ber hand to her side, she leaned
against the wall for support.
The footman opened the door. A mes
senger stood without; he handed in a
letter,. and immediately departed.
'1 he solemn menial glanoed at the ad
dress. "For you, ma'am," he said, and placed
the missive in Mildred's outstretched
hand.
A sudden impulse took possession of
her; end gathering np her skirts she
fairly flew up the stairs and closeted her
self in her own room.
To tear open the letter was but the
work of an instant, and it hardly took
longer to devour its contents.
This is what she read:
"Poor innocent end betrayed one, where
do yon think the husband you are
waiting for is at this moment? Would
you know the truth? Then go to the
home of her whom he loves but too well
the sister of his friend.
"Do you doubt? Think for a moment.
For whom did he disgrace himself - and
lose his situation in the bank? Her
brother. ' Who procured him another and
better place? This girl herself.
"I tell you again you are betrayed. She
has summoned him to her, and he has
gone even before you are the bride of
an hour! '
"This warning comes from
"AFbiend."
With a groan Mildred crushed the
cowardly letter in her hand, and abstract
edly thrust it in her bosom. As she did
so, something white on the oorpet at
tracted her attention.
She picked it up and saw that it was a
note. Quickly she remembered that
Eugene had left his hat and overooat in
that room, and that he must have come
therefor them v hen be went out. This
must have been the very note he had re
ceived, and he mutft have dropped it then.
She opeued it with trembling hands. -
One glance was enough. She uttered a
sharp cry of pain.
1 "Oh. mother! oh, my poormothert she
moaned; and, seizing hat and shawl,
threw them on any way, and stealthily
leaving the house, fled in the darkness of
the night
CHAPTER IT.
AM OPPORTUNITY LOBI.
On leaving his bride in the parlor,
Eugene Cleveland had hastered upstairs
to the room in whioh Mildred a little
late sought seel us on.
After closing the door, he had once
more carefully read over the noie he had
received, and then, as he thought, thrust
it into his vest pocket
His overcoat lay across the back of a
chair, and his hat was on the table cIobb
by. In putting on his coat the somewhat
ornmpled note, which had been rather
carelessly thrust into his pocket, fell out
upon the floor. , ? .
This, unfortunately, he did not notice;
and having buttoned his coat and seized
his hat, he hnstened from the room.
Passing down a back stairway, in order
to avoid attracting attention, be descend
ed to the basement, kept on through the
servants' hall, and so at last gained the
Btreet. .
For a moment he hesitated, as if uncer
tain what couree to pursue, and then
started at a rapid pace toward Sixth
avenue.
He had hardly reached the corner when
he stfw an empty ca approaching. He
at once hailed it, and as it drew up to
the sidewalk, sprang insii'e.
"Where to?" asked the driver, as he
opened the door.
"Two hundred and ninety-five . West
Forty-seven h street," was the answer;
and in another moment he was being
rapidly whirled up the avenue.
"Here we are, sir," exclaimed the dri
ver, as the oab came to a stand and he
sprang from his seat. But before he could
open the door Eugene war on the side
walk.:,'. . .
"Wait here," he said; "I shall not detain
you for more than ten minutes," and run
ning rapidly up the steps, he gave a loud
ring at the bell. ;
He waited for some time, and hearing
no movement inside, rang again.
A moment later he distinguished the
sound of heavy footsteps slowly assend
ing the basement stairs, and then, with
aggravating deliberation, approaching
through the hall.
The key turned in the lock, and the
door was opened just enough to permit
the person within to get a fair View of the
would-be visitor without, v -
" Who are ye, nor, an' phat do yee want
here, if ye plaze?" oame a voice through
the aperture. "Sure, the mistress is out,
an' 1 -'i;.-:. ;..'.:.
"I don't want to see your mistress, you
know that very well," interrupted Eu-
fene, Impatiently "t called to see Miss
'leldinx," . --V
"Mies Meta, is it? Thin she'd better re
save her company wh h her brother's
within the house! That's phat I'm
thinkin'." . ; :v . .-.; ?
"But she is sick, and has sent for me.
I must see her, I tell you. ' Come, don't
keep me standing out here all night." '
"I'mknowiu' she' sick," nodded the
girl, without offer ng to move! "an' I'm
tbinkin' it's best she xhould I kept quiet
Ioifce. Anyways at all, I'm not paid to do
her throttin. Why don't her brother stay
at.home an' wait on her friends?"
Come, get ont of the way," exclaimed I
Eugene, almost fiercely; and, throating
the impudent girl aside, he harried t
inrcugn the nail and no the stairwiy.
, Bridget started to cry murder and fire;
hut just at that moment she discovered a
policeman on the opposite side of the
street, and so thought better ot it
Deliberately she shut and looked the
door, and descended to her own regions
in the basement, muttering as she went:
"The mane thief, the miserab'e Turk,
wouldn't give me aven a cint to bless me
self wid; an' himacourtin' an' a courtin'
of her, wid niver a wan in the way barrin'
meself to watch him?
Meanwhile Eugene bad gained the door
of Meta's sitting-room and knocked.
There was no response, and, after an
instant's hesitation, he mustered courage
to open it
The room, as he expected to find it,
was empty, ,
He passed on into the next . This also
was empty, but just before him he saw a
door standing ajar. He knew it opened
into Meta's sleeping apartment, and,
drawing near, he knooked gently.
"Who is there?" called a sweet, but
feeble voice, in a tone of surprise and
alarm. t
"It is I Eugene. You sent for me,
you know." .
"Eugene! I sent for you? Gre.at
heavens! what does this mean? Go back
to the drawing-room. I will join you
there direolly."
"But you are sick unable to rise, per-;
hsps. 1 !
"Go go. Don't worry about me. I
must see you. I must know more of
this. I will be with you almost in
stantly." And so Eugene returned to the draw-j
ing-room, and, seating himself in the.
first chair that came handy, gnve himself
up to wondering what Mota's strange re
oeption of htm might mean. )
He had not to wonder long. The girl
herself speedily joined him.
. After turning up the light, she drew a
chair near, her visitor, and, as she sank
into it said, earnestly: -
"Did you not say that I sent for you?",
"Yes, of course," was the reply.
"What! to oome here here, when my(
brother was away, and on your wedding
night too?" ,
"Certainly, Meta, You know you sent'
me a note not half an hour ago. I
"Who brought it to you?"
' "I haven't the least idea a messenger
boy, I suppose."
"Let me see it, please."
"Certainly, I have it here in my . vest
pocket no, it must be in the other one.
"By Jove!" he exclaimed, growing pale
and becoming extremely agitated, 'it's
gone. What if I dropped it at the Ver
nons', and my wife has picked it up.
That wouldn't be pleasant, especially as
I am not there to explain." 1
"What did the note say?" asked Meta,;
with forced calmness.
"Why, you ought to know better than 1,1
as you wrote it," returned Eugene,
quickly. , i
"No matter, what did it say?" persisted!
the girl. ;
"It said that you were very ill, and that
Ray had suddenly been called out of
town on a matter of the utmost import
ance, and that it was absolutely neces
sary you should see me this very night,
before I left the city, as you had some
thing to tell me that I must hear from
your own lips."
"It said all that, did it?" ,
"Yes, and -and more."
Wh,.telse?"
"Why, really, Meta, I can't remember
everything. And, indeed, I think there
was nothing more of real importance." ,
"Well, then," said the fair young girl,
very impressively, "let me beg that you
will hurry back to your wife without the
loss of another moment ot time. If you
have a carriage in waiting, so muoh t e
better; don't let the driver Bpare his
horses."
"What do you mean, Meta?"
"If you have any regard for me if you
have any love for your wife don't stop to
inquire, but fly to ber at once fly as you
would if you knew her life and all her
earthly happiness were in d: nger."
"I oan't comprehend you, Meta."
"O heavens! what stubborn mules men
oan be if tbev have only a mind to. Can't
you understand, Eugene, that I never
wrote that note that I am utterly incapa
ble of writing such a thins to a man not
an hour married? Do you not see that it
is the work of an enemy an enemy bent
upon wrecking your happiness, and per
haps mine?"
Mercitul Father! can it be possible?
andyet " .
"And yet you do not .know all no, nor
half. I see it clearly now. Ray whb nt
terly confounded when he received the
note that called him out of town th s
evening. He did not understand it at all,
but felt that it m glit be something of the
last importance to us, and so he went
"Yes," she added, "I oan see it now
only too well. It whs all a piece of this
same plot to injure you. They thought
it necessary to get my brother ont of the
wav. They mean to do you or your wife
some dreadful barm, therefore I beg you
to hasten back to her as fast as possible."
"You are right, Meta yes, 1 am sure
you are ris;ht, as you always are, and I
will go at once, only let me first ask "
"No, no! don't stay to ask anything.'
How do you know but, having got you'
out of the way, your enemies have found
me una of communicating with her? Or,
as you yourself suggested a little while
ago, how do yon know but she has found,
the note you so carelessly lost?"
"By Jove! you're right, I must be off
at once," and starting to bis feet, he
seized his hat, and hurried to the door.
Bu: here he stopped, with his hand upon
the knob. :i' .,. '
"We're ., going to Riverside to-nieht,
Meta," he said; ."but we shall be back in
the morning. And to-morrow evening
you and Ray must come and see us, then
we will talk over this strange matter. :
"Ah," he added abruptly, "I begin to
think I can point out the very hand I hit's
working againit us. Bnt I musn't stay
longer. Good-n'gbt " And, having at
last opened the door, he hastened across
the h ill and down the stairway.
"And so oan I point ont the hand that
is doing this cruel work," murmured
Meta, as she slowly approached the win.
dow and looked out into the nisht "Yes.
,1 oould go right to her, and say 'yon
nT. At,, f 1 V 1 .3 A j S
it." .;. , '
She heard the front door close, and
she saw Eugene hurry down the steps,
aoross the walk, and eater the waiting
earriage.
She saw the driver slam to the door,
mount his box and drive away. ' And then
she saw a muffled female form cautiously
approach the house and regard it atten
tively. , ,
"Who ean that be, and what dees she
want here?" she involuntarily asked her
self. , Before she could find an answer to her
question the woman hd moved sloly
away and disappeared in the gloom.
Feeling weak and faint, Meta sought the
lounge and sank hravdy upon it "
Ahl had she but remained at the win
dow a moment longer how muoh of sorrow
how much of misery might have been
avoidedl
TO 81 C0BTC1D.J . .
THE JOKER'S BUDGET.
JESTS AND YABNS BY FtTCTNY
E OF THE PRESS.
Wan tod to be a, Prophet Stolen
Sweets Repartee Another Boy
Caught, Etc, Etc.
WANTED TO BE A PROPHET. '
Mamma Good by, dearie; what shall I
buy for my little girlJ
Helen Some bunions, please, so I can
tell when the weather is goin' to change.
Harper's Young People.
STOLEN SWEETS.
Cobwigger Your son doesn't smoke
as much as he used to. ,
Brown Not since I told him I would
allow him to smoke. Epoch.
REPABTEB.
"Ah, Rose, in squeezing thee
A pin my hand hath torn."
"You might have known," said she,
"All roses have their thorn."
ANOTHER BOY CAUGHT.
" George, dear, are yon a member of
the Union I" asked Hortcnse, as they sat
side by Bido upon the long suffering
soia.
George was a plumber, and conso.
quently could not tell a lie. "No, dar
ling, I am not," he said.
" Well, you ought to make application
lor membership at onco," said Hortense,
with a meaning look. And George took
the hint, and now Hortense goes around
wearing only one glove, the bettor .to
display the beauty of .the stone. New
XorK Herald.
CALIFORNIA MARVELS. '
Easterner I see it stated that Tulare
Lake, ia California, has increased miles
in width and length this year.
Californian Shouldn't wonder. Cali
fornia is growing right along. New
York Weekly.
NOTHING TO BR AO OF.
First Little Girl (proudly) We are
goin' to ISurope this summer.
Second Little Girl (contemptuously)
.Pooh i' ve shust game from dere. New
York Weekly.
MARRIAGE .MADE HER FEEL OLD.
Young Husband What? You are
twenty-hvo years old to-day? Why, you
told me a year ago, just before the wed
ding, that you were only twenty.'
Young Wife (wearily) Ah, yes, I have
aged rapidly since I married.
THE ENTERPRISING OFFICE BOY.
Irate Citizen (to office boy) I want to
see the editor.
Office Boy What do you want with
him? . '
Irate Citizen I want to thump the
clothes off of him.
Office Boy Oh, do you? All right;
give me your name, age, etc., and SO
cents.
. Irate Citizen--What's that for?
Office Boy That's the price of death
notices; hair the regular rates, you know.
Boston Traveler.
HER FUTURE PLANS.
Bride (after the ceremony) How stu
pidly our escorts acted I
Bridegroom Yes; the groomsmen and
bridesmaids wore all very awkwaid.
Bride (decidedly) I shall never invite
one of them to a wedding of mine again.
Chicago Times. , ;
BEATING THE MACHINE.
; "That boy who just dropped a bad
nickel in the slot reminds me of the Arab
Who foldedhis tent."
. "How was that?"
"He silently stole a weigh."--Mun-sey's.
. i :
. BURGLARS ARE NOT NOISY.
' Mrs. Nerfus I'm sure I heard a noise
downstairs. There must be burglars in
the house!
' Mr. Nerfus Nonsense! Why should
burglars wish to make a noise?
HE KNEW HIMSELF.
"I don't think you give yourself credit
for the merits you really possess," said a
young woman to Willie Wishington. . "I
haffe been told that you are quite a hard
thinker."
" Ya-a-s," said Willie, " it has stwuck
me that I think with a gweat deal of
difficulty." Washington Post.
discretion. ' '
He has fought the grizzly bear
Braved the lion in his lair
His heroic reputation every land and na
tion knows;
But sooner, he declares,
Would he walk around six squares
Than try to pass a woman when she's
sprinkling with a hose. : .
Binghamton Republican.
TIRED OF WALKING.
Railroad ' Superintendent (forbid
dingly) Well, sir, what do you want?
Tramp Pardon my 'ntrusion, but I
s'pose you observed that 'cordin' to the
Massachusetts Supreme Court a man who
is injured while ndin' on a pass can't col
lect damages, f
' Superintendent v (much interested) I
noticed that. .
Tramp Yes, sir. Well, there ort ter
be the same here; an', ef you'll jist give
me an annual pass, I'll ride back an forth
until I git hurt, an' then we'll make a
test case of it New York Weekly.
FINE MANNERS.
Teacher What is the most polite
thing you know of, Johnnie?
Johnnie I should say brook trout
They rise to a fly. Lowell Citizen.
MODERN TERMS.
"They say Miss Brown has got the
rocks."
, "It is true."
"Are you going to propose?"
"I haven't got the sand. " ,
IRRIGATING HIS CONVERSATION.
Mr. Oldboy Why do you bring so
much water, Tommy? I merely asked
for a drink.
- Tommy I thought you'd need more
than a glassful, 'cause sister said you was
the dryest old stick she ever knew.
Argosy.; '
WAS GLAD HE LEFT. '
"Did you call on Miss Jonas?"
"Yes. She was awfully disagreeable,
too; didn't cheer up, really, until I
started to leave."
DASHED HOPES.
. The maddest man on earth was a Main)
street man who was walking home
about eleven o'clock at night, when a
stranger drove np alone in a buggy, and
said:
"Ain't you tired of walking?"
"Yes, I am," said the Main street
man; "much obliged," and started for
the team.
"Well, why don't you run awhile?"
said the man in the buggy, as he drove ofL
Auburn (N. Y.) Gazette,
CONCLUSIVE.
Judge You swear that the Simpkinl
boy is insane? . - ' ; '
Boy Yes, sir. I've seen him refuse
pie. Binghamton Leader.
OUGHT TO BE LARGER.
Johnny Cumso Papa, isn't the Capo
of Good Hope many times its original
size now?
Cumso What makes you ask that ques
tion? . ,
Johnny Cumso Well, I know that it
has been doubled often. Epoch.
A BOOMERANG.
Mrs. Brown You always act like
fool.
Brown Well, my dear, I always follow
your advice. - '
SIMPLE AND SAFE. .
" How to live on a thousand a year?"
said Chappie. "That's easy enough.
Blow it in the first week and then visit
your rich uncle for the other fifty-ons."
" ' AWFULLY.
Miss Au Fait And we saw Niagara
Falls, tool -
Anglomaniac Weally? Fwom which
side?
"From the American side !"
Chappy (aside) How vewy vulgar 1
Lawrence American.
SHOCKING A FLORIST. "''.:
"You have all varieties of pansies, t
suppose?" he remarked, as he enteredr
a florist's store.
"Yes, sir."
"Let me have some chimpanzees,
please."
The clerk said nothing, but soon pro
duced some flowers which were distinctly
marked with eyes, nose and mouth, like
a monkey's face, and said:
"This is the variety you want" ,
"Yes; make a buttonhole bouquet." -
"Yes, sir."
"How much?" asked tho customer
when the bouquet was ready. '
"Nothing."
"What! I've never got anything hero
under a dollar before." .
"It's all right," protested the clerk
with a weary look; "the shock is worth;
the flowers." Pittsburgh ChronicUt
Telegraph.
" ; WHEN HE SUCCEEDED.
i Giles Is that a good tailor?
Merritt No. He gives a follow fitd
only when he doesn't pay his bill.
A CONFUSION OF TERMS.
Dr. Begosh (anxiously) Not the im
provement I expected, Mrs. Brindle.
What have you been giving tho patient
to eat?
Mrs. Brindle Monday he had fried
liver and onions, and yesterday I gavo
him some corned beef and cabbage.
Dr. Begosh Horrors I Df d I not warn,
you against rich food?
Mrs. Brindle Why, doctor, that's the
cheapest stuff I could buy in the market!
' couldn't fool him.
Salesman at Music Store (to customer
from Upthecreek) You'll give me a
couple of dollars, you say, for that old
second-hand instrument? My stars, man,
that's a Stradivari ns.
Customer-A what? ' '
"A Stradivarius, sir; a genuine Stradi
varius." ' s
"Stradnothin'l It's a fiddle! Reckon I
don't know a fiddle when I see it? I'll
give you just $2. 25 for the old thing ?"- .
Chicago Tribune.
Chinese Cook Bice to Perfection.,
Say what you will no qpe can cook
rice like the Chinese. At two or three of
the better class restaurants in Mott street
it is served with a spiced sauce, which
the Mongolians eat with a relish.' Every
kernel of the rise is distinct when they
cook it, and some of the kernels are half
the size of a coffee bean. The objections
raised against the Chinese diet are
raised by persons who have never seen
the larder of a Chinese kitchen. The'
writer had an opportunity to peep behind
the scenes not long Bince, and not only
was the chopping block well laden with
chicken of a superior quality, but meats
of the first cuts were piled up in the ice
box, and all sorts of fruits and vege
tables were to be seen, to say nothing of
the enormous quantities of tea and rice
on hand. Sunday is a feast day in Mott
street. The laundry men of Jersey City,
Hoboken and other New Jersey towns
come to the city in droves, and all of
them make it a point to meet in some
eating saloon kept by one of their
countrymen, and over a bountiful repast
discuss what most interests them. New
YorkPre8s.
The Vitality of the SnaiL
The snail is blessed with very great
powers of vitality, says Longman's Maga
zine. ; A case is recorded of an Egyptian
desert snail which came to life upon being
immersed in warm water after it had
passed four years glued to a card in the .
British Museum. Some specimens in the
collection of a naturalist revived after
they had apparently been dead for fifteen
years, and snails frozen for weeks t to----gether
in solid blocks of ice have recov
ered on being thawed out. : The eggs of '
this creature are as hard to destroy as -himself.
They seem perfectly indifferent -as
to freezing, and have been known to
prove productive after havinir been
shriveled up in an oven t) the semblance
of grains of sand. -