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Helena, Montana, Thursday, September 27, 1883. No. 45 PUSHED EVERY THURSDAY MORNING. - O Terms of Subscription. WEEKLY HERALD: one .year ......................................................$i oo ......... 2 00 DAILY HERALD : l iiysiil«,. lier», delivered byearrier, 81 50a month Om- Year, by mail........................................... $12 oo Sis Months, " .......................................... 6 00 f -iges of address will be made promptly and rhcn/uUu, but requests MUST give the post office t'llOS! ns u f II, us the one TO which such change is de sire!. in order to receive attention. Aii communications should be addressed to FISK BROS., Publishers, Helena, Montana. 1'OOIt HANNER '.NEATH THL SIL VER FIR. Wliat am I u eepin' for ? Why, her They've planted 'neath that silver fir ; All, don't you know, I kinder b'lieve The tree from Hanner will receive A si^ht o' nourishment and show How fast a tree like that can grow; An' if if it takes from her the A-im That she once had, 'twon't be so slim A year from now as 'tis to-day ; But more o' life and strength display, An'girth an'height. "A what—great loss? Wal, now yer talkin' solid boss ! My Manner's loss I can't compute. What powder is to them who shoot— What water is to them who go Down to the sea in ships, pray know My Manner was to me, you bet ! Alas! that she should pay the debt, When only two score years and ten— Me leavin' 'mong earth's saddened men— AV'hen forty wimmin here in town .Might better slumber in the groun'. She went her gait till she dropped dead, As "twere, in harness! "Find her match ? F I did, twould be what's called a scratch ! Xo, sir, I don't expect to find A match for Hanner. Quite resigned I'd b'en if she'd a lived—wal, say Three years, or four, beyond the day She tip an' died ; fur then I'd had The farm all free and clear, by gad ! She worked herself to death, I knowed ; But then, of course, 'twas duty owed To him who married her, to be A helpmeet, not a help-eat—see? Poor Manner. I could weed for her Till grav with age that silver fir. I vum, I could ' "What! Marry! I, Again ? Wal, not till I've run dry O' sorrer, mister ; which won't be, I'm sartin' sure, afoie that tree Has growed up twenty foot or more Toward the golden, shinin' shore. Yes, I'll allow it will be hard. Without a lovin' bosom pard To travel through this vale of tears ; But there is Widow Hanner Beers— Same Christian name as she had, there. Which sorter temp's me, I declare— 1 might ha\'e her an' not half try, Fur she o' me ain't no ways sliy. 'She ain't the worker Hanner was— My Hanner, there—but then, she has Home property that's snug an' clear— O' labor money's more'n the peer. F I should wed her, 'twon't be she I marry, but her property! To this my Manner'd be resigned, I'm sure, if she could speak her mind. But ah ! I long shall mourn for her— Poor Manner, 'neath the silver fir !" How long he mourned no one can tel! ; But this we know, and know full well ; That, ere a month on wings had sped, He married Widow Beers ; and said " Twas 'cos her name was Hanner !" CRIMSON FLOWERS. 1 swept the dust of withered flow'rs That, crushed to ashes, scattered lay Along the aisles of heart and life— I softly swept tlieir dust away. I gasp with suffocating sense ; Tlieir odor tills the place. Oh. much I try to find the same bright heart. Untarnished by their faded touch. I lift the curtain of the past. And tear each crumbling leaf away. To find the subtle, rieh perfume That fills my choking breath to-day. I erv : "They are dead, all dead—aye, dust !" My quivering fingers take them down With care, again l search my heart For youth's own brightness till— I frown And gaze again, for in a nook •Still blossoms a crimson passion flow'r That d roi>s corrosive poison down And stains my heart-pearls hour by hour. I stand aghast. "Oh, is it true That bright and baneful flowers bloom. Bloom in my heart where fires of grace Have swept each aisle, and nook, and room?' 1 knelt and took between my hands Tlie crimson fiow'r. I crushed and wrung Its color out; then, ruthlessly, Far. far from me its pale leaves flung. I closed and locked the outer door Of my poor heart, to God I cried : Keep, Thou, the key in Thy strong hand, Purge, Thou, my heart till purified Of every leaf, of crimson weed— From sickly • lors floating there, From dust and ashes—let me read Thy sweetest message, written there, And pluck the flowers Thine own hand Hath planted, watered, nurtured, suae To blossom 'neath Thy tender touch, Unspotted, peerless, fragrant, pure." THE STUBBORN BOOT. i j S i ; "Bother!" ivas all John Clatterby said. Bis breath came quiek and his cheek was red; lie flourished his elbows and looked absurd, While oA'er and over, his "Bother!" I heard. Barder and harder the fellow T worked, Vainly and savagely still he jerked; The boot half on AA'Ould dangle and flap, "Bother!" and then—he burst the strap. Redder than eA'er his hot cheek flamed. Barder than ever he fumed and blamed; Be wriggled his heel and tugged at the leather. Till knees ar.d chin came bumping together. "My boy," said I, in a voice like a flute, "Why not—ahem—try the mate of that boot, Or the other foot?" "I'm a goose," laughed John, As he stood, in a flash, with his two boots on. In half the affairs of this busy life (As the very same day 1 said to my wife) Our troubles come from trying to put i'he left hand shoe on the right hand foot Or vice versa (meaning reverse, sir) To try to force, as quite of course. Any wrong foot in the right shoe G the silliest thing a man can do. Why Is It? ! : You never hear one Avomau invite another out to dinner, any more than yon hear one man ask another to come and take i tea with him. No. It would seem that women's hearts melted and softened over the tea cup, and that men's souls flew open to each other with table knives and forks to dig into a man's secret nature, whereas the j simple key to the tea-caddy will unlock a woman's breast at any time. What Shall the Boys Do? [Philadelphia Times.] rarenls are continually confronted witli | this question. Many parents answer it wrongly. The father d^ires that his sons j shall not undergo the toil and self-denial that he ha, undergone, forgetting, or perhaps --a—_i- • 0 ' & 1 I oo j not realizing in any proper sense, that it was ! 00 tbat 'oil and that self-denial that made him I ! the man he is. The mother has her foolish notions about the respectability! of certain | ;*■»&». 01 employment which enable those j f oo j tollowing them to wear good clothes and ! 00 " *'— it -- ------ hihit X Df fbo s a ■ T a auu i rednementand cultn^ Th" toy' " tt ______ a : __a_ i-.i-V-i__tt inexperience and inability to look below the surface of things, is easily led to folloiv the Avell intended but foolish judgment of his parents, and commences life by swelling the list of bookkeepers without a ledger, doctors Avithout patients, lawyers without clients and genteel clerks Avithout employ ment. The first thing the parent or teacher should do is to study carefully the boy's aptitudes. Having done this, he should be taught that any kind of honest labor is honorable and that Avhat he could do best should be his calling, no matter whether it is to make , _ „ . , ... , TT shoes or_ coinages, to raise cattle or butcher a them. Many a boy who might in time be come a good farmer, owning a farm and home ot his own, becomes an indifferent hand-to-mouth salesman in a store at a salary that will only barely keep soul and body to gether and provide no accumulations for ! sickness and age. Many a boy Avho, by learning the machinist's trade, could some day be at the head of a great mnufactory, remains in obscurity and poverty because his parents thought the profession of book keeper would be more genteel. A little study of the ad\ ertising columes in a great daily journal, or an inquiry among 1 the leading business men of any thriving ! town, Avould cause a revelation that should at i serve to deter parents from making semi- , dj dudesof their sons by crowding the already I overcrowded positions of clerks and book keepers with them. In the city of New York inere are at the present time 5,000 bookkeepers out of employment, and of the : 25,000 who have more or less steady employ ment in that calling in that city very few receieve over §25 per week, while a far great ! er number are glad to accept $10 or $15. A business man of the city lately advertised for a clerk at $10 a week and had seven hundred applications for the place. In view of these facts the parents of boys should urge them to learn trades, to go into the shops or on the farm, anywhere Avhere honest work is to be done, and to avoid as they would the pestilence, the semi-genteel callings, • which are so overcrowded thi. 1 the majority who are dependent on them have no hope of more than the bare subsistence Avhile they remain in them. Polar Voyages. ! j j j ! i or Lieutenant Danenhower, of Jeannette fame, says polar voyages are of no practical value to commerce or mankind, and they are of questionable scientific value. He i thinks that for all useful purposes the Arctic j regions should be held in reserve so far as S exploration is concerned until other parts of the habitable earth liav T e been fully exam i iued. He is of the opinion that the obser vations taken by the Jeannette expedition warrant the belief that the circumpolar ; basin of the North is interspersed with islands and is not an open sea. He says there are no natives on the islands north of Siberia, and never were any so far as known. It would be extremely difficulty fi r man to subsist through a winter on these islands if unprovided with food brought from the con tinent. He thinks the chances are that Lieutenant Greeley's party will be brought away in safety, but he evidently has little confidence that the result of the observa tions taken by that party will compensate for the risk of lives of gallant men which all such expeditions must necessarily involve. In this age of course it is understood that the investigation of scientific facts relating to climate, electric and magnetic phenomena, the earth's shape and productions will always be a powerful stimulus for the ex ploration of all unknown or little known regions, but it seems extremely doubtful if there is any occasion for the Government to take a hand in such expeditions. If scien tists desire to explore the Artie regions at private expense, there is nothing to prevent them from so doing. ical on put the cate the A Michigan Love Story. [From the Mitchell (Minn.)Republican. Dr. Wellman reports the cutest and sweet est little love story Ave have had from real life. Yesterday, as he was waiting at Parker, D. T., for the train, a country lass came in with her fellow in the farm wagon, locked in each other's arms. The young man lived in Iowa, and was on the eve of starting home. The train was ready, and on to the platform went his carpet-bag. Another em brace and the train pulled out. The lover swung on, and thtf lassie waved him kisses. The train, going down grade, gained rapid speed ; the boy Avaved his handkerchief, but his heart was in his mouth. Off went the old satchell; off followed the lover, with heels in the air. Over and over went he, and at last lit in a mudhole, rolled like a ball against the clay bank, and finally got on his ! feet and started back to see his dulcinea. She at the same time was making for him. out ing who get are to that This no a ple. , , They met and embraced, regardless of clay a or bruises. The Iowa lover was heard to re mark : Ducky, I will neA r er leave you un til you are my wife." The Justice of the Peace AA-as sent for, and the twain returned : to the farm as one. Which One? Johnnie was in the street car recently with his mother, and next to him sat a very nice looking young man. After some talk with his mother, Johnnie turned to the young man and said, so that everybody could hear him : "Am I dude ?" "Well," replied the young man, "you do no t ]oo k ii ke one." i "And is that gentleman on the other side of you a dude ?" "I suppose not. But why do you want to know, my little fellow ?" "Nothing; only mamma said that you was j the next thing to a dude, and I wanted to know if it was me or the other gentleman that she meant." of could you in a yond ply have watch mach, German Method of Abolishing Pau perism. | B i ama _ t . s ...inawavnecn it i,)smarck s Iate8t cllorts aie ma way pecu j H"' 5 ' '"rV" behalf , of , th . e workin« ï' 38568 : He , has . «■"•«?«> " thr0 "6 h the Im P»™l Parliament a politico I social measure entitled The Workmen's ! "° c î ai measure enuueo I Slck iania Bllh He contends «•"*!«• vious legislation had not been satisfactory | j f with somethin^ that has à resemblence ! - - - - ® - - - — - - i of blunt harshness, advised te Reichstag to hh T 1 ** Z* ,*** selves. His advice was followed by the leg islative body, his plan being this: Every workman in receipt of less than some seventy cents of our money a day—the number of his family taken into consideration—must subscribe a certain amount of his income to especially declares that no State aid shall be re £jered This the Chancellor asserts will a fund reserved for the benefit of his sick, or otherwise disabled fellows and their families. The employer, however, pays one-third of the premium thus raised, and is held respon sible for the payment of the whole, recoup ing himself from the Avages of his em ployes. The bill provides for the establish ment of insurance funds and clubs, and serve to do away with pauperism, while aid ing tOAvards an economical reform as far as the Treasury of the State is concerned. He goes further: Another, and accom panying measure provides for insurance against accidents, by which all employers, at their own expense, shall insure all their employes against physical disabilities in curred while in their actual service. But in this case the general government, or the communal administration must contribute twenty-five per cent, towards the total of the fund subscriptions. A third measure, sup plemental to these, for the special relief of the aged and infirm belonging to the work i ing classes, was under consideration at latest , dj f tea from ' Berlin . Here, too the workin „ I people must supportj to a specified extent, their own sick and disabled, although the ! government and communals are to render j larger aid than in any other case. The ideas j are all Bismarck's, who, it is said, desires to j see them adopted and put to a practical test ! before he retires, at length, from public life, i There may be controversies in Germany it self as to the practical utility of the bills, »C11 «S tu me piitunuui unmj Ui i ne um«, I or at least of one of them, but the applica- j __ __ ___ . * * . . tion of them and the result will he of in terest to many beyond the Emperor William's dominions. A Remarkable Case. [Amador (Cal.) Ledger.] The death of T. A. Driver, of Plymouth, furnishes an interesting study for med ical scientists. Mr. Driver met with an acci dent some time ago, and never was well afterwards. Whether the accident brought on the malady which ended his life is un determined. The symptoms, however, which followed the mishap led some to sup pose that the kidneys were the source of the trouble. We are informed that he did not have the slightest cough, nor any of the usual symptoms of a consumptive except a gradual wasting away. In the interest of science a post mortem examination was made, when it was found that the lungs were totally destroyed. There was not a sound particle in them. They were almost black in color, and cavities large enough to put one's fist in were found in each, filled with purient matter, and the entire lunge substance was covered with tubercles as thick as they could possibly exist. It was astonishing that life could hold out until the lungs got to such a state, and more astonishing still that this condition was reached without the slightest cough to indi cate the seat of trouble. The kidneys, on the other hand, were found to be in a per fectly healthy condition. I Tact. People cannot help having been born with out tact, any more than they can help hav ing no ear for music; but there are occasions when it is almost impossible to be quite cbaritaDle to a tactless person. Yet people who have no tact deserve pity. They are almost always doing or saying something to get themselves into disgrace, or which does them an injury. They make enemies where they desire friends, and get a reputation for ill-nature which they do not deserve. 'They are also continually doing other people harm, treading on metaphorical corns, opening the cupboards Avhere family skeletons are kept, angering people, shaming people, saying and doing the most awkward things, and apolo gizing for them with a still more terrible bluntness. Jf there is one social boon more to be desired than another, it is tact ; for, without tact, the career of the richest and most beautiful is often utterly ruined. Ingersoll on Money. Bob Ingersoll has a pointed way of putting things. In a recent letter on the currency question, he says : "We are told, however, that the Government can create money. This I deny. The Government produces nothing ; it raises no wheat, no corn ; it digs no gold, no silver. It is not a producer, it is a consumer. The Government is a perpetual pauper that has to be supported by the peo ple. It is constantly passing the contribution plate. The man who passes it, I admit, has a musket with himj but at the same time the Government is supported by these contri butions. Yon cannot live upon the promise of your own government any more than you could live upon the notes of your hired man —any more than you can live upon a bond issued by occupants of the county poor house. You cannot live upon that which you have to support." Life WTth an Object. [Boston Transcript.J We heard of a man—indeed, saw him— whose one joy and ambition in life was pride in the admiration elicited by his wife's beauty. But unfortunately she developed a tendency to embonpoint , whereupon the anxious husband each day subjected her to a tape measurement, so that if she got be yond a prescribed limit her alimentary sup ply would be changed or curtailed. We have often wondered if some people did not watch their mental and artistic growth in mach, the same way. of Novel Plans of Convict Reformation. [San Francisco Alta.] A correspondent of an Eastern publica tion makes a suggestion relative to prison labor which is worthy of consideration. It is not exactly a new idea, but it is a bolder enunciation of an old one than has pre viously obtained. In short, he proposes to turn penitentiaries into industrial commu nities, not different from other establish ments, save in the constraint of the laborers. Instead of compelling them to work for the State and making the State responsible for their support, he would permit them to eu joy the proceeds of their own industry and compel them to feed and clothe them selves. They should all be given a chance to work and receive wages, or profit, in pro portion to their ability and industry, a cer tain sum being kept back by the State to | pay the necessary expenses of maintenance of the prison. Beyond this the prisoners should have all they could make and be per mitted to accumulate as much property as of proper precautions to prevent escape, and they could. They should be permitted to traffic with the outside world, under ' possess as many privileges as could he allowed consistent with the objects of the imprison ment. It may he objected that this would not lie punishment for crime at all, and that by it imprisonment would be robbed of its ter rors. That could only be determines by experiment. To say nothing of the disgrace of ' ' erty ___ and if every step toward making the con ditions of imprisonment less vigorous diminishes, in a corresponding degree, the deterrent effects of punishment, we have already gone too far in the direction of ameliorating the condition of prisoners. Humane treatment, cleanliness, improved sanitary arrangements, good food, and credits for good conduct necessarily abate the terrors of the State Prison, and yet it is not generally believed that, on the whole, these things tend to foster crime by making men more ready to assume the risks of con-1 viction and imDrisonment It is believed that anyTnfluSof kind which thev might exert is more than counterbalanced by their good effects in producing a dispo sition favorable to reform in the minds of the convicts. penal servitude the denriv-ation of lib ty is a great punishment to most men, --- 1 I It is acknowledged that habits ot industry j and the possession of skill enough to make . x ° such habits remunerative, are among the strongest inducements to reform, and no system of prison labor seems so well calcu lated to teach these as that which the writer we have quoted recommends. Where the prisoner works for the State and receives for his labor nothing but the necessary amount I of food and prison garments—which are assured in any event—his labor is the most I odious form of task-work. He has no in- 1 dneement to work with a will, and instead of acquiring habits of industry he siu .ies how to do as little work as possible. He j comes out of prison hating honest work more than when he went in. But, above all, he j comes out penniless and lacks that incentive i to honesty which comes from the possession ! of property. This would be different under ! the plan proposed. By extra dilligence the prisoner would he able to accumulate quite a sum of money before his term expired, and being thus ahead of the world, he would be more likely to array himself on the side of honesty and good order. All through his service in the prison he would have a personal interest in his work, from the consciousness that he was AA'orking for himself, and being less exposed to distrac tions of one kind and another men would actually Avork better in prison than out of it. If this plan of prison labor should be combined with a system of discipline by which each man, besides being responsible for his OAvn good conduct, should he charged with some degree of responsibility for that of his fellows, Ave can conceive of no arrangement better calculated to attain the great desideration of convict reform. "Rip" in the Catskills. [N. Y. Star.] On Monday last a stout, quiet man in a gray suit and linen duster alighted from a stage half Avay np the Catskill Mountains, opposite the rustic Rip Van Winckle House, and gazed curionsly at the rock upon which the village vagabond is said to have perpe trated his twenty years' sleep. The stranger was Joe Jefferson, the actor, making his first visit to the scenes in which he has so long figured on the stage. The party with whom he was traveling missed him for a moment, and then discovered him curled up in his old posture on the rock upon which he had so often posed, but never seen. Repeated calls raised him to his knees, and he cried out in piteous, heart-melting tones, which none but he can assume : "Vere ish mine dog, Schneider?" The genial host was hustling out to the stage with several bottles of beer as his rich voice rang through the mountain passes. He dropped them in surprise, and exclaimed as he saw the distorted face and wondering eyes aboA-e the bushes : "I'm tarnally scooped if that ain't the old manhimself!" Hay Bankers. San Francisco is said to include within its limits about 300 vagabonds who rejoice un der the appellation of "hay bunkers." These men pass their nights on the wharves, mak ing their beds on bales of hay. It is claimed that they live under a sort of social organi zation which, though elastic in most re spects, has at least one inviolable rule. Smoking among the bales of hay is strictly forbidden, and tha member who violates the order is promptly expelled. Should he at tempt to sneak back into fellowship he is thrown into the water and kept there until nearly drowned. He is then threatened with another ducking unless he leaves forthwith. The "hay bunkers" are socialists, dividing the results of thieving and the collections from stray beer kegs with fraternal impar tiality. _ _ _ The Young Idea Makes an Application. "Adam was the first man," a Syracuse Sunday school teacher explained, "Solomon was the wise man, and Cain, who killed his brother, was the first base man.'' Then the boy who had a ball in his hip pocket and a bat tacked under the charch steps asked : "Say, what nine did he play with, and ii he conld kill men, why didn't they have him pitch ?" to ' , ..... I .. i Nobody to Bid Against His Daughter, Miss Gabridle, Who Pays $10,000. It j INew York Sun.] i After the death of Horace Greeley it was j intended that his farm at Chappaqua should to be s °bl and the proceeds divided between j hi* 8 daughters, Gabrielle and Ida, the latter of i whom was the wifeot Colonel NicholasSmith. ; For some reason this was not done, and i when Mrs. Smith died, more than a year for ! a g°> the farm was still unsold. Colonel ! Smith, who had lived on the farm after Mr. Greeley's death, removed to Shelbyville, HORACE GREELEY'S FARM SOLD. to as Ky., with his three children, and the farm was rented in part. Miss Gabriel le M. Greeley recently brought a friendly suit for the sale of the farm, and it was ordered to be sold. The time of the sale was fixed for yesterday noon in front of the jjPostoffice on Main street, Chipapqua. The Postoffice consists of a little shed jut ting out on the end of a piazza which runs ! ber8 of the letter boxes, so^ that a person to 1 along the front of a country feed store. It is set with sma11 glass panes bearing the num ! 1 . . /» j 1 1 . i I j driving past can see if he has letters Avithout ! alighting. At noon about tAventy of the villagers, lie ! farmers, and storekeepers who chanced tobe it j in the neighborhood gathered on the stoop ! and retailed old stories about Mr. Greeley, i A feAv hundred yards down the road could be ; seen the gate of the Greeley farm, and im ~ ^ ^ ! m »c h money in his efforts to convert it into J good land. Presently the auctioneer, Israel i A. Haight. He owns a pickle factory in the ! town > and is an old resident. He is a small of train from the city eicept reporters. | ! Soon after 12 o'clock Miss Greeley drove j 11 P alone in a top buggy, with a spirited bay , is horse. Miss Greeley was dressed in deep I mourning for her sister. Her brown hair ; was brushed down plainly over her fore- ! head, and the healthful color in her cheeks ! showed how well her stay for several months ; past at Chappaqua had agreed with her. At I I her feet was a large bunch of brightly colored leaves. She reined up the horse op 1 P osit e the auctioneer, and spoke to her law yer, Mr. Porter. mediately in front of the postoffice was the ! ! swamp on which Mr. Greeley expended so ; 1 * ' • — a --------*" ' ■ 1 man, with llorid complexion and stiff gray j mustache and hair. No one came lip on the ' j Auctioneer Haight stood on the highest of j the three steps of the stoop and said the sale , . iti • 4*. * • * j i f I 1 j would begin. A dozen urchins deserted their play and stood near his feet. Mr. Haight read the long legal description of the property, which said that the farm consisted of about seventy-seven acres, orchard, meadow and woodland. "What am I offered for the property ?" Miss Greeley IèanéïTont of the side of the buggy towards the auctioneer, and said in a clear, musical voice, "$10,000." "Thank you," said Mr. Haight. "That settles it," said a dozen voices, "no one will bid against her." No one did bid. The auctioneer pleaded j for $500 advance, $250, $100, $50, and $25, i bllt 110 one ma(le a si ë D - He dialated on the ' ! value ot ' the farm, said it was going dirt j ! cheap, and called on the bystanders hy name ' to bid higher, but there Avas no response. Then he took a short recess, and again offered the property. "I will take $10 advance," he said. "Who Avili bid $10,010. Won't you Dr.-?" The Doctor addressed examined his pockets in a spirit of hnmor, and declined to bid. Ten thousand dollars once ; fair warning. Ten thousand dollars twice. Ten thousand dollars third time. Gone. Hold to Gabrielle M. Greeley for $10,000. Miss Greeley smiled pleasantly, and said she was glad, as she did not want the old farm to go out of the family. She had no plans respecting it just at present, but would put it in repair and probably move there next year. There are tAvo houses on the farm, one near the gate and the other on the hill. The latter is unoccupied. a NeAvspaper Honor. Colonel G. A. Pierce's address at Fort Wayne : A short time ago a discussion arose in Chicago as to the relative dûtes of law yers and newspapers, and the following query occurred to me : What would be said of any respectable journal that should take a fee for trying to make black appear white—that should undertake the defense of a notorious murderer, for instance ? Not secretly, and while pretending to be impartial—that, of course, would be intensely hypocritical and dishonorable—but openly and notoriously? The accused party would say, for instance: "I want defenders. I will hire Lawyer Such-a-One and newspaper So-and-So." What an outcry would go up, and yet what is it that makes such an act highly dishonorable on the part of a newspaper and perfectly per missible and proper on the part of an attor ney? Is newspaper honor held too high, or is legal honor held too low ? I be lieve the time will come Avhen a lawyer's duties will be confined to seeing that mur derers and robbers have a fair and just trial according to law, and when no amount of money will he allowed to convert them into paid eulogies of dangerous men. American Tea. There grows in the sage-brush and desert lands of Nevada and Utah a shrub called by the Indians "Tempah," which, when made into an infusion, cannot be distinguished in taste from the Chinese tea. It is a blood purifier, and Indians and whites use it for medicine. Many of the miners of Eastern Nevada have acquired a taste for it, and pre fer it to the tea of the stores. Its effect is a mild stimulation, about the same as is pro duced by tea or coffee, and no harmful or in jurious effects follow its use. How He Made it. "So yon have found hotel keeping a source of great profit ?" queried a New Yorker of a Colorado man whom he met in Chicago the other day. "Well, I suppose th? hotel has met ex penses, though I ain't sure," was the reply.. "But they tell me you have made over $300,000." "Yes, but you see I have a saloon attached to the hotel, and a silver mine attached to the saloon, and a faro room attached to the mene, and I act as jndge at all harse races and as nmpire at all prize fights. Oh, we don't expect a Western hotel to make a dollar." is is is in a to and ence over and the the ern some tory of APT NAMES FOR BAD WORKMEN. What Skilled Tradesmen Call Interior Hands. the of is Striker bring out the technical slang of the trades, and particularly the opprobious epithets with which the different classes of workmen distinguish the unskilled opera tives who labor at the same trades. In most cases it will be found that these slang terms originate in some technicality of the trade. Thus the telegraphers call a poor operator a "plug," after the little metal implement which divides the switches on the key boaxn, inasmuch as the plug, or "key," is a comparatively unimportant part of the ma chinery. Printers designate an unskilled type setter a "shoemaker," or a "blacksmith." The derivation of the former appellation is from the fact that a compositor who makes errors is obliged to correct them after the type is set up by taking out the misplaced letters and "pegging" the proper ones into their places. Tailors also use the word "shoemaker" to distinguish apoor workman, I OO on nncl'lllnrl nnnn hm nlifnhnn fnn as an unskilled hand takes his stitches too far apart, and is therefore better adapted to sew leather, where he can punch the holes Avith an awl before putting his needle through. The appellation "blacksmith" is applied to a printer whose fingers are clumsy, and a jeweler also terms an unskilled vrork man at his trade a "blacksmith" for the same reason. A term of opprobrium, which was be the | J? 11 j tùe , ^ . , and lives only at the expense of the well being ol the rest ot the body. Shakespeare ; uses the word scab as a term of opprobrium, ! and W ebster defines a scab as a mean, dirty ! P^try lellow," which may have suggested ; tbe original application ol the word to its At I Present use. The printers and telegraphers, the ! use d hy old New York printers to designate so ; a ? unskilled compositor, was the word ■ 1 boarder," from the fact that a poor hand was generally a drinking man and spent his time loafing and "boarding" in liquor saloons. All striking trade-workers in corn j mon use the generic word "scab," to distin gush workmen who take the places of ' strikers. The derivation is obviously from fact that the scab is a morbid growth, two of the most intelligent classes of work men, are the only tradesmen who have in vented names to particularize the scabs of their respective professions. Thus, composi of j f ors cal1 »scab a "rat," in contemptuous al , h ?? on to tJe rodents who infest printing i nm nûo Inn tn mrrnmnnrs ho vo nnli? roonnt ir a offices. The telegraphers have only recently invented a term for scab operators. They call them "contumists," though the applica tion is not of technical derivation, but is probably an attempt to manufacture a word from the Latin contumae, the root of con tumacious, to describe a stubborn and ob stinate person. The various names actors give to the un skilled members of their profession are familiar to most of the reading vorld. A poor actor is termed variously a "stick," "tukir," "statue." or "dummy." A "stick" or 'dummy" is, naturally enough, an actor who is awkward or stiff on the stage. The word ' dummy is derived from the fact that when j a traveling company has not enough mem ' " 1 bers in the troupe to fill up a large stage, men and women are employed to stand in the back with choruses or supernumeraries and take no other part. They are called "dummies." "Fakir" is a generic term, and comprises those actors who lack talent and depend upon other resources. For instance, a comedian who makes faces is called a "mugger," and a tragedian who bellows is a "ranter," and both are "fakirs." The professors of the manly art are also apt in this style of nomenclature. They call a cowardly fighter a "dnffer." and a weak or unskilled boxer a "sand-bag" or a "stiff," the latter terms being derived from the con trivance upon which the pugilist does his practice. The Home Life of German Girls. Their life is far different from that of American girls, and we could hardly fancy anything more prosy than the home life of the high and well-born German girl. They are educated precisely alike, the range of study being limited. The common branches, French, sometimes English, and a few orna mental accomplishments, complete the list. The statement that American girls study the sciences and sometimes Greek and Latin causes from them manifestations of surprise. The traditions and predjudices of their class are carefully inculcated. Any woman who does think or act in opposition to the conventional standard is looked upon with distrust. But their domestic education is carefully attended to; whatever their rank, they master all the branches and steps of housekeeping. Their wedding trousseau and outfit in bed and table linen is generous in quantity and beautiful in texture, and usually made np by their own willing hands. An engagement with them is as solemn and binding as a marriage con tract, and unfaithfulness in either sex is an exception and meets with hearty condemna Their simpleness and quietness of life is a reproach to the lives of most of the idle, ease-loving, frivolous girls of many other countries. What May Happen. [Demorest's Monthly.] Let us take a look into the future. Sup pose the 250,000,000 of Hindoos should rise and drive out the foreign invader ; suppose also, which is not impossible, that the Chi nese, with their superior numbers and re organized armies, should defeat the French in the event of war, might there not follow a marvelous change in the relations of Asia to Europe? The Hindoos and Chinese would have one common foe left—Russia. That power now dominates Central Asia, and menaces both China and Hindostan. Suppose the people of these two empires should unite against Russia. Their com bined populations comprise about half the human race ; why should not their enormons armies not only conquer Central Asia, but occupy Siberia, and menace the very exist ence of Russia? The conquering armies of Central Asia have more than once swept over the Western world. It was the Tur coman who, in former ages, conquered China and India and formed the rank and file of the Mohammedan armies which overthrew the Eastern Roman Empire, conquering Spain, and placed the independence of West ern Europe in peril. Who knows but that some time during the twentieth century his tory may repeat itself ?