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Helena, Montana, Thursday, January 26, 1888. No *9 <h(c 111 cclslii cralil. R. E. FISK D. W. FISK. A. J. FISK Publishers mid Proprietors. Largest Circulation of any Paper in Montana -o Rates of Subscription. WEEKLY"HERALD: One Year, (in Mlvance).............................S3 00 HI* Months, (In advance)............................... I 75 Three Months, (in advance)........................... 1 hO When not paid for in advance the ra<e will be Four Dollars peryeaii Postage, in all cases, Prepaia. DAILY HERALD: City Subscribers, delivered by carrier S' ,00 a month One Year, by mail, (in advance)................. S9 00 Hi* Months, by mail, (in advance)............... 5 00 Three Months, by mail, (in advance)........... 2 50 If not paid in advance, S12 per annum. •^fAll communications should be addressed to FISK BROS., Publishers, Helena, Montana. SHE MARRIED A SCHOLAR. Oh, she said she'd never marry any Tom and Dick and Harry, She'd wed seine famous scientist of learning and renown; But her Tom was quite commercial, and of Agas siz and Herschel He was as ignorant, she said, as any circus clown. So she gave poor Tom the mitten, and as meek as any kitten He went to making money and forgot his wild despair; Forgot, 1 say; at any rate he hastened to de generate Into a sordid business man, a trifling million aire. But she wed a scientific, and liis tastes were quite terrific For various kinds of insects and for toads and other game; And instead of plaques and pictures, rattlesnakes and boa constrictors He'd take into his sitting room to ornament the same. As a zealous decorator he preferred an alligator To a statue of Minerva or a bust of Henry Clay; And you ought to hear him talk awhile of his bouncing baby crocodile That he played with in his parlor just to while the time away; And bis cobra di capello, a very charming fellow, Through his dressing room and bedroom used to nonchalantly drift; And an elephant's proboscis and two young rhi noceroses lie presented to his children as a fitting Christ mas gift. But he sold his wife's piano to buy ipecacuanha To feed his hippopotamus to ease his stomach aches, And a shark ate up his baby, for you know how hungry they be, And he went and pawned his overcoat to feed his rattlesnakes. — Y ankee Blade. Motliers-in-LaW as They Air. I was young onc't myself—and I think, like as not, I was smart as the best of 'em then! I knowed so blame' much that I'm glad I've /er got And can't riekollect it again! But as smart as I was—and I'm certain of that— I was never so smart that folks saw Any brains sproutin' up through the top of my hat When I laughed at the mother-in-law ! the mother-in-law was a woir an—but we Didn't count that, and neither do you— One had a young daughter I ust to go see, And play the accordion to; But that arctic old woman, half gloom and half glare. That would neither freeze solid, n'er thaw, Knowed what she was doin' and why she set there. And 'ud not be my mother-in-law! She was sound, like the most of 'em is, and she meant Jest a-havin' full jestice er none; And as fer as this mother-in-law foolishness went. She remembered lier mot her was one. I remember, myse'f, bein' struck thataway At a gatherin' onc't, where I saw, My wife weepin' over the clods and the clay At the grave of her mother-in-law! —James Whitcomb Riley in Texas Siftings. He Started. A rag peddler who was driving up Gratiot avenue yesterday had reached Hastings street when his horse balked. The usual number of smart Alecks were soon on hand with their advice, and one suggestion after another was tried in vain. The horse could neither be pulled nor pushed, and as ho was blockading traffic the crowd began to grow very rapidly. "What is it?" inquired a boy of 13 who pushed his way into the circle. "Balky horse,'' answered some one. "Where's the owner? Here, you man, can't you start this horse?" "No, lie don't start oop." "Wait a minute." The lad ran up the street half a block and pulled a handful of hay out of a bale at a feed store, and when he returned he cleared a space in front of the horse, stood off about five feet and extended his hand. The horse pricked up his ears, his eyes glistened, and heat once advanced and followed the boy around the corner. "It's according to the lioss," explained the boy as the crowd cheered. "When a hay fed hoss balks he wants firecrackers under him; when a hoss who is fed on scrap iron and gravel roof balks, a pinch of hay will lead him all over town."—Detroit Free Press. Fancy and Realism. Little Nell— Mamma, I wish you'd let me read a novel. Omaha Mamma—Don't mention such a thing. "But novels tell things just as they are in life, don't they?" "Yes. Now ask no more questions." "Susie Minks is got such a lovely novel, and" "What ! Did you read any of itf' "Only the la«t line. It said: 'And so they got married and were happy ever after.' "Oh, that isn't a novel, dear; it's a fairy story."—Omaha World. Rare Forbearance. "They say that Tom Hartworth is very sick." "Is that so? I'm sorry to hear that. I al ways liked Torn. When I was troubled with dyspepsia, several years ago, he was the only one among my acquaintances who didn't tell me just what would cure me."—Boston Transcript. Done Before His Time. "And now," concluded the clergyman, after a long discourse, "we have seen that millions on millions < f people have been benefited by following this Scriptural injunction." Just then Lawyer Stubbs woke up long enough to say in a sleepy manner, "Move that the in junction be made permanent.''—Judge. rOYERTY OF PARIS. SOMBER SIDE OF LIFE IN THE FRENCH CAPITAL. A Census of the Existent Indigency—tine Hundred and Forty Thousand People Enrolled for Publio Charity—List of l'aupers of Foreign Hirtli. Who has not in his mind's eye linked the name Paris with gayety and pleasure? Who has not conceived Paris a vast haven where the cares of earth are cast aside, where mis ery and misfortune are unknown, where human enjoyment has reached its climax, and where fountains of pure silver have an unceasing flow? The casual tourist finds no contradiction in this roseate ideal, for Paris in itself is a world whose varie gated social strata present separate studies which could be profitably pursued for a life time. The French have the happy faculty of presenting the bright side of everything, while their proverbial good manners add an additional luster which is well calculated to satisfy the ordinary mind. But Paris without riches and poverty, vice and virtue, happiness and misery, would, in deed, be a strange anomaly of human asso ciation. It is true we get a gleam of certain phases of Parisian life from the "Confession of Claud," "L'Assomoir" or "Camille," yet it is hard to believe that such a degree of de pravity has a secure footing in the French capital. The facts have not been overdrawn, however, the only dispute being the extent to which vice has obtained. THE CENSUS OF INDIGENCY. As to the existent indigency more rational data can be obtained. Every three years a census is taken of the population enrolled at the beneficence offices of the twenty districts into which Paris is divided. The object of the census is twofold. First, by it are ob tained the names of all persons who are en titled to public aid; second, a close study is made of their true situation with a view to rendering as many as possible self sustaining. According to the previous register there were enrolled for public charity 51,881 heads of families, representing 140,585 pei'sons. The board of visitors have eliminated 4,000 heads of families, representing 17,000, leaving regis tered at present 47,037 heads of families or 133,334 persons. Comparing this result with that of 1880 we find the number of heads of families has increased by 813, while the in dividuals comprised have diminished by 41L Each dependent domestic group is therefore relatively less numerous, while the individual applicants have sensibly increased. In 1880 Paris had 1,998,606 inhabitants and 133,735 indigents, or 6.33 per cent. To-day the popu lation is 3,369,000, of which 5.43 per cent, are dependent on public charity. In all the districts the number of assisted women is far greater than that of the men. For every 34 males enrolled there are 41 fe males. This is easily explained on the grounds that the labor of women is less re munerative, and they have less repugnance in recurring to the public charities. PAUPERS OF FOREIGN BIRTH. The native Parisians are by no means the majority of those whose names are on the dependent rolls. For every 1,000, Paris and its Department of the Seine furnishes 237; the provinces, 7%; foreign, 67. Taking 1,000 names of those of foreign birth, the Germans lead with 407; Belgians, 356; Dutch, 1?3; Italians, 53; English, 10; Spaniards, 3; Americans and Turks, 0. It will be observed that Germany furnishes by far the larger number of Parisian paupers of foreign birth. This is explained by the fact that the Ger mans are the most migratory of all people, and in search of the "daily bread" have in vaded the world. In general the German emigrant is a model of industry, economy and of irreproachable customs, and putting in practice the French proverb that "there are no senseless occupa tions. there are only senseless people," have undertaken almost every depart ment of labor and trade. Tlw Frenchman who enjoys in his own country an easily won livelihood and an excellent climate seldom crosses the frontier, while the German, whose condi tions are less favorable, is found widely scattered. The lodgment of the army of paupers in Paris forms an interesting study. More than a fourth part five almost gratuitously, con fined in grots, caverns and cellars; one half pay from 100 to 2,000 francs rent per annum. Sixty-one per cent, of these holes or hovels have only one bed ; the rest have two, three, four and even five apartments. The inhabit ants of these rooms belong to all professions, comprising thousands of the fruits secs of art in all its manifestations and forms.—San Fraucisco Chronicle. Love Songs In Afghanistan. Love songs are plentiful with the Afghans, though whether they are acquainted with love is rather doubtful. Woman with the Afghans is a purchasable commodity. She is not wooed and won with her own consent; she is bought from her father. The average price of a young and good looking girl is from about 300 to 500 rupees. To reform the ideas of an Afghan upon that matter would be a desperate task. When Said Ahmed, the great Wahab leader, the prophet, leader and king of the Yusufzai Afghans, tried to abol ish the marriage by sale his power fell at once. He had to flee for his fife, and died an outlaw. There is no song in the world so sail and dismal as that which is sung to the bridi by ber friends. They come to congratulât*— no, to console her, like Jephtha's daughter; they go to her, sitting in a corner, and sii^i You remain sitting in a corner and cry for ; K What can we do for you? Your fat lier has received the money. All of love that the Afghan knows is jJG& ousy. All crimes are said to have their cacM in one of the three z's—zar, zamin or zoa— money, earth or women. The third z is. Id fact, the most frequent of the three causes — Contemporary Review. .»ever Falls to Amnse. "Anything going onf" asked the city treas urer of a Dakota town of the mayor. "No; dull," replied the mayor. "No excitement for a month, I guess?" "None that I remember of." "Well, I'd like to bave some amusement of some kind, but I don't know what we can do." "Hang it all !" returned the mayor,' I've got it—I know what we can do to pass away the time." "What is itf' inquired the breathless treas urer "Why," replied the mayor, with visible emotion, as he got up and put on his hat, "get the boys together and let's go and move the county seat. The blasted old thing hasn't been snaked across the prairie for over three months."—Chicago Tribun*. STORIES ABOUT MEN. ne Preferred a Quick Death to Black* burn's Talk. I heard a rather interesting, though some what apocryphal, anecdote the other day in connection with Senator Blackburn's first canvass for congress * Blackburn, so the story goes, happened-' to be passing through Owenton, the country seat of Owen county, on the occasion of the hanging of a noted criminal. As a hanging is a rather excep tional episode in the state of Kentucky, the candidate for congressional honors concluded he would remain in the place a few hours and witness the "event." The gallows was erected in the public square, so that no citi zen, however humble, should lose the oppor tunity of seeing the unusual spectacle. It was, in fact, a gala day, such as the history of Owenton had seldom recorded. The sher iff, in a spirit of true Kentucky hospital ity, invited Blackburn, as one of the distin guished guests present, to occupy a seat on the gallows. Blackburn did so. After the preliminaries had been arranged, the sheriff consulted his watch and discovered that it was not quite 13 o'clock, the hour fixed for the execution. Turning to the prisoner he said: "You have ten minutes yet to live. Is there anything you desire to say in the meantime?" The prisoner sullenly replied there was not. At this instant Blackburn sprang from his seat, and, advancing to the edge of the scaf fold, said: "If the gentleman will allow me his re maining ten minutes I will be glad to an nounce myself a candidate for your suffrages. If elected to congress" Here the prisoner impatiently exclaimed: "Bay, you ! Is your name Joe Blackburn?" "Yes, sir," replied Blackburn, politely. With an expression of intense disgust on his face the prisoner turned to the sheriff. "We won't stand on a few minutes more or less," said he, "when the alternative is presented of death on one hand, or listening to one of Joe Blackburn's long winded speeches on the other. Flip the trap and let me go." The good natured sheriff obligingly "flipped the trap," and the next instant the desperado swung into eternity, while Black burn clambered down the gallows, exclaim ing as he went that he had lost the greatest opportunity of his life.—New York Tribune. Justice Harlan's Remedy for Check. Justice Harlan tells a story of a man who came to his house one night, an entire stran ger, sent in Lis card, and when the judge came down bluntly told him that he proposed to make a fortune for both himself anil the judge, if the latter would furnish him infor mation about a certain decision that was pending and was expected to affect stocks. The man proposed to furnish the capital and do the trading. He was willing, moreover, to divide profits equally. The justice was so completely taken aback by the man's cool impudence that he scarcely knew what to say, but the humor of the situation struck him at once, and he asked the caller if he would kindly stand up under the chandelier where he could get a look at his face. The stranger stood the scrutiny without flinch ing. Then the judge said: "My friend, you have asked something that is not only improper and impossible, but your proposition ought to tempt me to kick you out of my house. I scarcely know why I do not feel in the mood to do it. I do not think that you are aware of the signifi cance of your proposition, and therefore I shall not treat this as I otherwise would. I am not going to enter into a speculation with you, as that would be wrong; but I will tell you bow you can get the information you seek before any one else." The man's face brightened up, when the justice continued: "On the day when the opinion is delivered —I cannot tell you when that will be—come to the supreme court room and take a seat on the front bench. Then, as it is read, the sound will reach your ears first. Good even ing." And as the man, with a somewhat crest fallen mien, turned toward the door, the justice added, with peculiar emphasis in his voice: "Wait a moment, sir; you should thank me for not kicking you down stairs." But the man with one bound had already cleared the hall, and was tearing down the street when the justice thoughtfully returned to his study.—New York Tribune. Mistook His Guest. A judicial joke is out anil will start the rounds on the United States circuit. Every one knows how expert and almost unerring the proverbial hotel clerk is when he takes in and sizes up a strange guest, as he writes his name for the first time upon the book before him, and how accurately he fits him and his pocket book with a room. It was about three years ago, when, having successfully steered his canoe between Scylla and Charybdis in thé United States congress, Judge Speer as cended the bench qf the United States court in Macon. He arrived in the city at night, anil, going direct to the Hotel Lanier, regis tered "Emory Speer" in a business like hand. When he had finished his autograph the alert clerk was already studying his keyboard, evidently a little perplexed as to details. But presently he turned and asked: "Mr. Speer, what line do you carry?" "Mr. Speer" looked at him and repeated the question in evident astonishment: "What fine do I carry! I don't understand 3 'ou, sir. Do you allude to my politics?" "No, sir, but I wanted to know whether you required a large or small sample room." Explanations followed, and that hotel clerk always keeps mighty quiet when he goes into the United States court room.— Savannah News. Dan Rice Entrapped. Dan Rice, the veteran showman, was nicely fooled one «lay, as he was engaged announc ing the wonders of his circus outside the tent. A man standing with a little boy in the crowd near by cried out: "I'll bet you a dollar you cannot let me see a lion." "Done!" said the showman, eagerly; "put down your money." The man placed a dollar in the hand of a bystander, and Dan did the same. "Now walk this way," said the showman, "and I'll soon convince you. There you are," said he triumphantly; "look in that corner at the beautiful Numidian lion." "I don't see any," responded the man. " What's the matter with you?" asked the showman. "I'm blind," was the grinning reply, and in a few minutes the man pocketed the two dollars and went away.—Exchange. Daniel Manning's Brief Editorial. The late Daniel Manning, many years ago, had a spat with a country newspaper of vile typographical appearance. In speaking about it be said: "The Sandy Hill Herald is set up in shingle nails and run off on a cheese press."—The Journalist IN LONDON HOTELS. NO GREAT IMPROVEMENT IN THE SYSTEM FOR YEARS. The hotel system in this country is very solemn. You cannot hurry anybody. If you drop your key at the hotel it may be an hour before you will recover it. It is like the diving bell operation. The more you enjoin these solemn personages the more they lose either their presence of mind or their method. As to the method, they Lave but little. In the first place, they do not rise till about or after 9 o'clock in the morn ing, although nature shines upon their island about 4 o'clock. Active minded Yankees, who feel the miming shine, rise and expect to get even with the country. They find that they cannot buy a pill or seidlitz powder or au oyster. The Briton rises as becomes him —about 9 o'clock or 10 o'clock—anil is then somewhat unrested if a call is made upon liis avarice. I am stopping here in a hotel which is sup posed to be the perfection of recent civiliza tion. It is built of white bricks on the in side and stone exteriorly. There is more style and method about it than is required of a country house. You come in at the front door and observe a man covered over with gilded uniform. You advance toward two or three offices near the front iloor. If you strike the wrong office they march you to and fro. Y ou are requested to register. About six of these minor offices are kept up toward the front. In the course of time you learn the regimen, but if you are blunt or dull you may be for a week kept sailing be tween office number one and office number seven. When you come down from your room you drop your key through a hole into a sort of a vat. If they neglect, as they often do. to fish your key out of the vat you may lie ten or fiteen minutes recovering your way into your room. AT THE BREAKFAST TABLE. When you go to breakfast you are required to give your number, which has been previ ously confided to you on a little round ticket or check. You present yourself, and in about three minutes are required to sign a schedule as to your place of abode. They bring you a little piece of fish about two inches by three inches. When you have done with this they possibly bring you a second piece. I calculate during the present week that every meal which cost me from four shillings to seven shillings cost the house about one-half shilling at the very highest. The hotel sys tem here has changed, as they suppose, for the l »etter, and yet we would think in Amer ica that it hail hardly changed at all. Let me give you an example of the contrast. Fi een or twenty years ago the Langham hood was supposed to be the finest in London ; it was placed near the American minister's residence; it was built of brick, and was a very large and extensive building. They made it state and offensive and exclusive. If you go to the hotel you see a man in uniform parading before it; his business is to observe whether you are fit to come into the holy of holies. You pass through the portal, and there is perhai>s a second sergeant at arms there to look out for your character. When you get within the hotel becomes very ex pensive, containing several kinds of bureaus containing railroad tickets, newspapers and what not. You finally go up to a littie office, which is perhaps supported by a boy. He assigns you to a room. Most of the chambermaids re ceive about £15 a year, or $75. They are obliged to enter into articles of contract to stay out their year. It need not be hinted at that a portion of them are oblivious of the seventh commandment. When you go down to the breakfast or dining room you find that almost every one there is a German. He knows about enough English to give you what you have to eat, and if you have a re quest to make pertaining to your room or your friend he shrugs his shoulders and in sists upon feeding you. He is as a Sioux In dian in Great Britain. These Germans to the number of hundreds of thousands are over running England, and though the English dislike the juxtaposition they seem to be en tirely incapable of changing their methods. The solemnity of the British hotel is equiva lent to the solemnity of a church. A CARELESS SCULLION. This morning I went to the office and asked for my key. The scullion there said that it was not on its hook, anil would look for it. He then began to fbh for it among about fifty keys iu a hole underneath the place we had dropped our keys. Having hunted all these keys through, he said it was not there. He had overlooked it iu the mul tiplicity of keys. Had he attended to his business, every one of those keys would have been hung on its place the moment it was dropped. Then their system will never stand the pressure and criticism of modern civili zation. You enter the huge dining room of the Hotel Metropole and find a series of pil lars in the middle of the reom. These pillars are all useless and unnecessary, and they sep arate people who eat from other jieoplo who eat. You are told that for a certain amount of money you shall have so many dishes. They bring you the first dish, and it is about one and a half to two ounces in weight. If you submit this is all you will get of the first dish. If you are an independent j»erson you will demand a second portion of the dish. They yield without remonstrance. Then when you come for the second part of the breakfast you get a little piece about two or three inches. If you tell the man to take that back and bring you something reason able to eat he will obey like a calf. If you submit you will get no more for breakfast. At the Langham hotel you ring a bell for something in the way of refreshments; some times a man will come in and sometimes he will not. You wonder where the center of these houses is; who conducts them; who is responsible for them. As far as the chamber maids and labor element go they are very well attended to, but if you go to the main office you are kept in a state of apprehension, wondering whether you have a right to ask for anything or not. On my way to London I stopped at Brighton for almost a week. Every day I took my sea bath. Every night I slept under a sheet In the course of three or four days I was afflicted with a strange kind of diarrhea. I had never felt anything of the kind before; there was a slight pain in the middle of my stomach, attended with cracking pains toward the side of my stomach. I went to the hotel proprietor and asked where the water came from which fed Brighton. He said, with great politeness, that it was the finest water in Great Britain. One morning the main waiter in the hotel re marked to me: "Sir, you had better goto London. The sea air seldom agrees with strangers. With many strangers it disagrees verv much. You will never be any better so long as you stay here." So I went on to Lon don, and in a few hours was completely re stored to health.—London Letter. DEPRIVED OF THE DRUG. The Profound Depression of a Morphia Habitue —A Terrible Struggle—Health. Watch a morphia habitue deprived of the drug. The first slight uneasiness and sense of discomfort gradually passes into extreme restlessness, accompanied by the most pro found depression; the stomach becomes so irritable that nothing can be retained, and there is a nausea and distressing sensation of emptiness and sinking. The whole nervous system, which has been working so long under a deadening weight, abuses its liberty and runs absolute riot; a breath of air which would bring relief to an ordinary sufferer is painful to him; so sensitive is the skin that a touch distresses, anil even the eye and ear are incapable of tolerating the most ordinary stimulation. To these troubles are added sleeplessness; the patient cannot get a moment's rest; or, if he should close his eyes in sleep, horrible dreams anil un indefinable terror take posses sion of him, anil make him dread that con dition which others look to for consolation and relief. Incapacity to take food, pro longed sleeplessness, constant sneezing, yawn ing and vomiting, painful acuteness of all his senses and other troubles sink the sufferer into a condition of prostration and despair, only to l»e relieved by morphia. Who then can wonder if the wretch yields again to the drug which has so long enslaved him? Hovering between a longing to be free and a feeling of incapacity to endure his ag onies, be asks reproachfully whether it is true that science has discovered no means of relief, no substitute for morphia, which may be given him until the storm be past. No, we have no means at our disposal which will c o more than alleviate these sufferings, and if the morphia habitue will be freed he must place himself under such control as can pre vent his giving way under the trial, as he almost inevitably will if left to himself. But severe as the ordeal is, he has this con solation and this great inducement to submit to it—namely, that it is short. A few days will see him through the worst, and although he may not be comfortable for a week or two, his discomfort is endurable and becomes less and less, until it gradually passes into ease and health.—Nineteenth Century. Georgeous Texans In Washington. A Texan of some distinction came to Wash ington the other day in what was considered for Washington a shabby cutfit. Coming from Texas he fancied he was "got up re gardless." But when he met his congres sional friend here the first thing the latter said vas, "What in hell's the matter, Tom? You certainly do look tough and shabby. You must go to my tailor's and get a new suit of clothes before you can make an ap pearance in Washington society." "Why, what's the matter with you?" said Tom to the congressman. "I was up in your county the other day with this same toggerj aboard, and they were going to shoot me for a dude." "That's all right at home," said the con gressman, "but it is very different here, you know. Look at this," and the con gressman took from the wardrobe in his lodging a nice new evening dress suit. "Great Jupiter!" exclaimed the new arrival, amazed at the extraordinary cut of the thing; "and what do you intend to do with that?" The congressman explained that personally he was as much opposed to foppery and con ventionality as anybody, but that the word had lately come from Texas that the repre sentatives of the Lone Star state must lick the best of them in the matter of style at Washington, in consequence of which every Texan now in Washington has provided him self with an evening dress, including diamond studs and patent leather pumps, that will take the shine out of anything else to be seen here during the coming winter.— Washington Post. Agriculture on the Alkaline Desert. "Governor, do you anticipate that the alka line desert between Ogden and the Sierre Ne vadas can ever be made available for agri culture or anything else?" I asked of ex-Sen ator Stanford. "I thought it could not when we built the railroad, but now I am not sure that the whole of it will not at some day be green and productive. We never knew when we came here that we could grow wheat, and for a long time obtained that commodity from Chili, yet at the same time wild grass was growing up to the saddles of the horses as we rode along in California. We finally began to grow- wheat, but thought it could uot be done without irrigation ; experience showed us that in very many cases no irrigation at ail was required tö make a crop. I was a long time persuading Brigham Young to grow some wheat without going to the ex pense and labor of ditching and irrigating. He reluctantly tried the experiment, and found it a complete success. The alkali of our plains, I am assured, will one day come into market as a fertilizer for the east and the outside world. You know the formation of country beyond the Sierra Nevadas for a great distance; it consists of estuaries of in land lakes, which receive the drainage of those interior valleys. There is a constant transfer being made of the surface barren ness to the bottom of the earth. I think it will take no longer to make the plains bear than it took to make the east grow grain and fruit. They had to cut off the trees and get away the stumps, and we have to deal with another kind of obstacle."—"Gath" in Cin cinnati Enquirer. Lot ta anil the Dressmakers. Just now I am at the mercy of dress makers, »ml they are in the aggregate the trials of a mind. Of course there are some who are mistress of their business, but as a rule they are poor failures. I can't under stand it, either. If a woman has to make a living as a dressmaker why doesn't she put her pride in her work and conquer it? A sleeve, it seems to me, is a little thing to make, but out of six modistes five will put it in a dress wrong. Ah! well, i»oor women, they are the victims of the age in which they live. The time will come when women will roll up their sleeves and go to work, heart, hand and soul, not only to get a living out of it, but to dignify it. We Americans like to preach about the freedom of our people and country, but for all that caste is as distinctly defined as in far away Hindostan, and there is no such thing as equality. A shop girl may be just as good as a petted daughte *, but society préféré the pet every time.— Chicago Mail Interview. A Fine Man. Omaha Man—Let me see. Mr. Surepop is from your sect ion, isn't he? Colorado Man—Yes; lived there for year* "He seems to be a remarkably fine man." "Hasn't an enemy in the world." "I should suppose no f ." "No; they're all dead."—Omaha WorM YACHTS AT REST. SLOOPS AND CUTTERS READY TO GO INTO WINTER QUARTERS. A Visit to tlie Dorks of South Brooklyn. What a Yacht Looks Like When "Laid l'p"—llow the Vessels Are Careil For— What Heroines of the Sailors. To realize that the yachting season is in deed over one need but visit the line of docks extending along the curve of the shore from South Brooklyn to Bay Ridge. Iu that line there are uo less than 150 yachts of all de grees now laid up for the winter. This num ber is being added to daily, and before the envious winds of autumn have snatched the last russet leaf from the bending trees there will nut be left a single yacht in these waters in commission. The general public is apt to see only one side of the matters in which their interest is spasmodically and tempor arily absorbed, anil that is, as a rule, the out side. But if one really w ishes to know what a yacht looks like when "laid up," he must go to such a place as Tebo's dock at South Brooklyn. And what is she like? Miss Beauty in morning wrapper, with her hair in curl papers! She is stripped! of all that goes to enhance her charms. Hulk, main mast, bowsprit; that is all that is left of her; anil she is swathed and bandaged like an old woman with the toothache. The sentimental ist will be inclined to shdl a tear—she is so utterly desolate, helpless, lonely and lifeless. The mawkish poet, who spreads himself through six months and over much foolscap on the subject of "snowy pinions," etc., will experience a pang of revulsion of feeling, as if a cherished corn were trampled upon. Forenoon beauty, daylight stage shows and winter yachts are subjects to be avoided in poetry. This is a practical age, and w hen the time of the sailing of yachts is over the question that naturally is of most importance to their owners is how to take care of them during the severe season. To leave as little as pos sible of what is liable to injury exposed is what is aimed at, and when the yacht is towed reluctantly into the dock after her contests, trials and triumphs, she is straight way mercilessly strippdl and left in the bands of the doekkeeper. The topmast is housed, the sailors are removed: the steering wheel is taken away bodily, and all these as well as many other odds ami ends, as well as the small boats, are put ashore and locked up in a storehouse. Then the hatches and aught else made of mahogany wood are covered with canvas; and frequently the bare spars are similarly clothed. A steam yacht is dis mantled in the same fashion; and all the brasswork is as carefully covered with can vas ns the mahogany. MOST DISCONSOLATE OF ALL. * When in winter dress the single stickers look, perhaps, the most disconsolate of all. It is in single stickers that public interest has centered of late, influenced by the interna tional and other great races in which these have taken part. A schooner with the mo notony of her appearance relieved by two masts never looks so dreary as the single sticker, which by her metamorphosis is re duced in appearance almost to the plebeian level of a fishing coble. She is certainly brought to resemble the general style of the primeval boat; a chunk of wood and a bare pole. But appearances are deceitful, and the tremendous capabilities that lie in that inno cent hull, when it is a Burgess model, would cause the primeval boat builder to raise a hue and cry of "witchcraft." Some yacht owners adopt a more elaborate method of sheltering their craft. They build a structure of wood resembling a little frame house right over the deck, so that all below is kept safe anil sound. This mode, if more thorough than the other, is more cumbrous. It is also more expensive, for a canvas suit once made will last for several winters, and the wooden shelter hou-e has to be solidly built anew each year, and for these reasons the simpler method is the more common. The great army of skilled seamen who manned the yachts is disbanded, and its members scattered to the four winds, except in the cases where the sailing master has been retained to stay by his boat during the winter. In this country the sailors are gen erally engaged for the season and do not sign any contract for a number of j-ears as they do in Britain. They are therefore here pe riodically, but it is safe to say that none of them want for winter work. Some go off on short coasting cruises; the others are sure to find a "job" about the docks or in the multi farious departments of marine industry. The shippers, as a rule, rest on their laurels and prepare themselves to add to them next year. By the middle of March, if winter does not linger too long, there will be signs of activity on the yachts once more. Workmen will swarm about their decks unloosing the un sightly bandages, completing their l»eautiful toilet and getting them into sailing order, and a month later they will spread their white wings with birds and butterflk of spring.—New York Tribune. Dwellers Under the Wharves. "The river gangs are mostly broken up now, still you would be surprised to know how many wharf rats there are at present on the water front of New York." So said Capt. Smith, of the police boat Patrol. From the captain it was learned that no less than hundreds of men and boys live or rather lodge under the rough planks of wharves. Some of them are pirates in a small way and own boats of their own. Others are knights of the tomato can order, and crawl under some favorite plank to rest their weary bodies and court sweet sleep be side the swashing river. "They are a kind of amphibious animal," said the captain, "and if they only were as fond of the external application of water as they are of living near it, it might pass for human. As it is, some of the most dangerous men in New York are wharf rats."—New York Star.__ A Herd of Buffaloes. It stated that C. J. Jones, of Garden City, .(an., has been hunting over eastern New Mexico and western Texas for buffaloes, and has succeeded in capturing thirty calves and one cow. These will be placed with the rest of his herd, making forty iu all. and the largest now in the United States: They will be nin on Mr. Jones' ranch, near Garden City. Mr. Jones believes that by crossing the buf falo with eei-tain breeds of cattle, a new and more hardy variety of stock will be the re sult. His efforts in this direction will be watched with interest by stockmen from all sides.—Chicago Times. There are in Boston between 800 and 900 negroes who were bora subjects of the British erowm DOC SIFERS. Of ail the doctors I could cite you to in this 'ere town Doc Sifers is my favorite, jes' take him up and down! Count in the Bethel neighborhood, and Rollins, and Big Bear, And Sifers' standing jes - as good as ary doctor's there! There's old Doc Wick, and Glenn, and Hall, and Wurgler and McVeigh, But I'll back Sifers 'gainst 'em all and down 'em any day ! Most old Wick ever knowed, I s'pose, was whisky ! Wurgler—well, He et morphine—ef actions show, and fact's re liable! • \ m , ib k WURGLER, SIFERS AND M'VEIGH. But Sifers— though he ain't no sot, he's got his faults; and yit When you git Sifers onet, you've got a doctor, don't fergit! lie ain't much at his office, er his house, er sny where You'd natchurly think certain fer to ketch the fel ler there! But don't blame Doc: he's got all sorts o' curious notions—as The feller says, his "odd come shorts," like smart men mostly has. He'll mor'n like be potter'n' round the black smith shop, er in Some hack lot spadin' up the ground, er gradin' it agin. Er at the work bench, planin' things; er buildin' little traps To ketch birds: galvanizin' rings; er graftin' plums, perhaps. Make anything! good as the best!— a gunstock er a flute: He whittled out a set o* chessmen onct o' laurel root. Durin' the army got his trade o' surgeon there—1 own Today a finger ring Doc made out of a Secesh bone! An'glued a fiddle onct fer me—jes'all so busted you 'D a throwed the thing away, but bo jes' fixed her good as new ! And take Doc, now, in ager, say, er biles, er rheumatiz, And all afflictions thataway, and he's the best they is. Er janders—milk sick—I don't fceer—k-yore any thing he tries— * A abscess, gatherin' In yer jeer, or granilated eyes. f, £ // % THEY BOTH MOVE INTO SIGHT. There was the Widder Daubenspec, thi y all give up fer dead; A blame cowbuncle on her neck, and clean out of .her bead! First hail this doctor, what's his name, from "Puddlesburg" and then This little red head, "Burnin' Shame," they call him—Dr. Glenn. And they "consul-fed" on the case, and claimed she'd baf to-die. I jes' was joggm' by the place, and heerd her dorter cry, And stops and calls her to the fence, and I says I, "let me Send Sifers—bet you fifteen cents Le'll k-yore her!" "Well," say. she, "Light out," she says; and, lipp-tee-eut, I loped in town, and rid 'Bout two hours more to find him, but I kussed • him when 1 dill! lie was down at the gunsmith shop a stuffin' birds. Says he, "My sulky's broke." Says I, "You hop right on and ride with me." I got him there. "Well, aunty, ten days k-yores you," Sifers said; "But what's yer idy livin' when yer jes' as good as dead ?" And there's Dave Banks—jes' back from war without a scratch—one day Got ketched up in a sickle bar, a reaper run away. His shoulders, arms and ha ads and legs jeh* sawed in strips. And Jade Dunn starts fer Sifers—feller begs to shoot him fer God sake. Doc, course, w as gone, but he had pinned tho notice, * At Big Bear; Be back to-morry; gone to 'tend the bee conven tion there." But Jake, he tracked him—rid and rode tho whole endurin' night ! And 'bout the time the rooster crowed they both hove inf i sight. » Doc had to ampitate, but 'greed to save Dave's arms, an' swore He could a saved his legs ef he'd ben there the day before. Like when his wife's own mother died 'fore Sifers could be found. And all the neighbors fer and wide a' all jes' chasin' round; Tel finally—I had to laugh—it's jes' like Doc, you know. Was learnin' fer to telegraph, down at the old depo. But all they're faultin' Sifers fer, they 's none of 'em kin say He's biggety, er keerless. er not posted anyway; He ain't built on the common p'au of doctors nowadays; He's jes' a great, big, brainy man— that's where the trouble lays ! —James 'Whitcomb Riley in New York World.