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Helena, Montana, Thursday, February 2, 1888. No. 10 <Tl[c Xtlccliln ^(jcralil. 3. E. FISK 0. W. FISK. ». J. FISK Publishers and Proprietors. Largest Circulation of any Paper in Montana -O Rates of Subscription. WEEKLY HERALD: One Yenr. (in advance) .............................83 00 Hlx Months, (In mlvanee)............................... 1 75 Three Months, (in advance)........................... 1 00 When not paid for in advance the ra'e will be Four Dollars per year^ Postage, in all cases, Prepala. DAILY HERALD: City Subscribers, delivered by carrier 81 .00 a month One Year, by mail, (in advance)................. 80 00 Fix Months, by mail, (in advance)............... 5 00 Three Months, by mail, (in advance)........... 2 50 If not paid in advance, 812 per annum. Entered at the Postoffice at Helena as second class matter.] JyrAll communications should be addressed to FISK BROS., Publishers, Helena, Montana. [For the Herald. ] A MEMORY. «trey dusk has change«! to golden dawn As I drift o'er memory's sea, * And forth from the ashes of long gone years The past comes back to me. Again I 'land on the sunlit sand, While the waves wash on the shore, And your arms are clasped around me, love. As they will clasp no more. Ore y dusk is deepening into dark. But one long line of white Across the misty western sky Divides the day from night. Once more your lips and mine have met, Ah, sweet the kisses given— The white dies o Jt of the western sky, Alas ! for my lost heaven ! DIXIE. THE SONG OF THE SNOWFLAKE. hike a cloud upon a mountain, hike a bubble on a fountain. 1 am seen and pass awav as in a dream. For the wild wind drives me ever, Over land, and sea, and river, Till the sunshine shall dissolve me in its beam. I am swept on the wings of the storm. And I rush 'twixt the earth ami the sky. The earth that seems shapeless in form, Ami the moon that is clouded on high ; I rush o'er the ocean's dark waste, And the white spray leaps upward to me. Till I feel in its kiss as we mingle, the taste Of the 'Hit of the boisterous sea. I pas o'er a ship, And I Iwrer and dip ,Midst (he masts, and the satis, and the shrouds, But the wind, with a whirl, Makes me eddy and curl, And hears me once more to the clouds. From the place of my birth, 1 swoop «townward to earth, I am borne o'er the plain ami the hill, An«l I long for my rest. In the ground's snow-clad breast, Or a home in the stream or the rill. The Boston Muse. SONG OF THE WASHTl'B Wring out the oid, wring out the new, Wring out the black, wring out the gray, Wring out, the white, wring out the blue— And thus I wring my life away. CONTRAST. Whose coat is thin doth sigh and groan, When through the air the snow tiakes float; He laughs who weareth fur upon The cuffs and collars of his coat. INFANT PRODIGIES. Said l'eter, you're in luck, I see! Come in my friend, look sharp, And hear the infant prodigy s _ - Performing on the harp. • 'Cvs THE REFORMER. • Good-by, my wife, •' -Tfo My love, my life, , , , . Stay home and do your sewing, And pray for me, "y* TV For I—you see— L *•- J i Must keep the earth a-going. AFTER THE BALL The blush that reddened her cheeks last night When she laid her head on my breast, This morning I'll warrant has taken its flight, For 1 lind it right here on my vest. didn't know. With jaunty step he walked along, And proud atul manly bearing; He seemed while mingling with the throng Just out to take an airing. The snow slide came as suddenly As comes a clap of thunder, , , And came just at the moment he _____ Alone was passing under. *Twas with a fierce, a savage air__ He rose anil thus exploded: ''1 knew, by jinks, the roof was there, But didn't know 'twas loaded!" -y FOR LEAP YEAR. _-_f Leap year is here, To maideus dear, Who're waited on by bashful beaux _ That smile and sigh And oft coma nigh To popping, but who ne'er propose. Proceed with skill, And thus you will Proposals from your lovers draw; They'll take the cue: Say, how would you mother for a mother-in-law f —Boston Courier. Irik. Ah Ituckle! Stay Huckled! Though fat and sere, He loved his dear With H's, K's. and Q's; _ But, to lie sure, When she got poor, He offered his excuses. When times were good This lover would Enrich his love with toffee; But now, alas! It's come to pass— She takes it out In coffee! Slaughter in the pan ! Draw one! —Bur .let to in Brooklyn Ebglet Acute Perception. An English writer observes that t^e sense hearing in some birds seems as wonderful and discriminating as that of smell in dogs. thrush lias !**eu seen to listen for worms, and very evidently to hear them, too, though within two yards of a noisy lawn mower; while robitLs appear to be able to distinguish the voices of their own offspring and parents from a number of others, and at e. great dis tance. It is suggested that such cases indj cate the "exclusive «lirectiou of the attention a sense" rather than mere keenness.—Ar kansaw Traveler. The Irrepressible Tourist. Lady—Your clothes are very ragged. Can 11 do some sewmg for you I" Train;*—Yes, madam; you may 6ew an overcoat on this button, if you please. It seems to feel the need of society.—Drift to to I'd in at est her the pet. a to ing state is bers they take take do PET BURGLAR ALARMS WHO ARE WITH SUP! OSED TO SLEEP ONE EYE OPEN. 00 75 00 be 00 00 50 The Silent Hull Ter .er the Most Effect ive House Protector—Fate of a Thief. A Ruffian in the Kitrlicn—Hit of Ad vice. "I do not train dogs to watch for burglars," said a fancier, "but some of them that are well bred are led to do it by their natural sagacity and force of character. They may not perform the duty with the desperate en ergy that is shown by the whity brown cur with the long tail and the black patch over his eye, but they will do it well enough to answer every reasonable expectation. That bull terrier you see there now, weighing about thirty-five pounds, with the undershot jaw and ugly enough to be put into a cham ber of horrors anywhere, might lie wide awake when a robber is squeezing his body through the pantry window, but he would make no effort to stop the man's entry; but once in the fellow would have hard work to get out again. "It is not easy to say what the bull terrier will do with the prisoner when he has him at his mercy. It depends largely upon the ani mal's previous general (not special) training. Certainly t lie man will have no voice in the matter, unless he howls to the inmates of the house for protection, which is really the w isest course he could take, though he sel dom chooses it. A jiersonal encounter hand to tooth would be a forlorn hope indeed, ami the possession of a pistol gives fewer ad vantages than you might think. The drawing of the weapon would precipitate the conflict. The bull terrier is a brute hard to kill, and a mere wound only adds to its ferocity. Then the combatants are too close together to al low of the effective use of a revolver, and a 'throat grip,' w hich the dog may get at once, and is almost sure to secure in a few seconds, will very quickly place the robber w here a pistol, though it would probably be dis charged before the trigger was pulled, will do him no gooil. "The dog is not going to disturb the family. He is a sentinel who can watch w ithout mak ing everybody else watch, too. Daylight, he thinks, will lx* quite time enough for those to whom he owes allegiance to inquire into the merits of the case, and the only serious ques tion that arises is: Will the burglar be able to take bis proper place in the investigation? Or, in other words, returning to the original proposition, What is the bull terrier going to do with him? SEVERAL ILLUSTRATIONS. "I know of three eases in which distinct answers were given to that question. The head of a family was warned by his butler that he had noticed some suspicious looking men prowling about the rear of the house, and woulil respectfully suggest that the silver ware lie sent to the vaults of a safe deposit. This advice was given after business hours, but the gentleman determined to avail him self of it on the following day. Meanwhile he borrowed a big, unamiable bull terrier from the butcher and neglected to mention the fact to the butler. Nobody in the upper regions of the house was disturbed that night, for the work down stairs was done in silence. The next morning the dead hotly of the butler was found lying on the floor of the pantry with the dog crouching beside it. The man's throat was torn out and some of the family jewelry was in his pockets. The silverware was placed so that, had he not been inter rupted, he could have quickly and easily handed it to his confederates, whose footprints were stamped upon the clay beneath the win dow. He had warned his master in order to prevent suspicion from falling upon himself, but he had not taken the bull terrier into his calculations. "Then I knew an old lawyer who was aroused before daybreak by roars for help in the hall, and going down stairs found a bur glar sitting on a marble top table, and a tierce eyed bull terrier, that a friend of mine had given him as a fee for defending a law suit, gazing at him from the floor. "And, again, I once sold a fine bull terrier to an elderly lady, who, distrusting servants an«l living all alone in her house, thought she needed such a protector. Coming down to light the fire one morning, she was horri fied to find her dog grimly watching a burly ruffian in the kitchen. " 'If you please, inarm,' said the man, touch ing his cap as she entered, T ain't took nothin' yet. That 'ere wild beast o' yourn would a tore me to small bits if I had. He's been a keepin' his eye on mo, inarm, and if I'd stirred a step he'd a been at me. I've put in a most uncommon nasty night, marm, and I do hopes you won't be hard on me.' "She was not har«l upon him. She gave him his breakfast and allowed him to go un molested. Then she came ar«>und to my place with the dog and sold him back to me at half price, saying that if I hatl told her he was so remorseless a brute she would never have allowed him into her house at all. THE MOST USEFUL DOG. The fact is, no watchdog is of the slight est use to a lady. If he barks and arouses her she is far more terrified than the thieves, and when he does his work silently he is not the social companion she cares to have in her boudoir. She has stated her needs to me often enough when she came to purchase a pet. What she wants is a soft, silky little fellow, who will sleep as soundly as she does herself, and not provoke the burglars by making any unseemly disturbance. "But for persons who would rather risk an encounter with thieves than loose their goods, a well bred, rough haired terrier, weighing about twelve pounds, makes a capital house protector. He is likely to be full of intelli gence, and will not give an alarm without cause. If he hears a noise he will thoroughly investigate it before he barks. No passing footsteps, no wind rattled shutters, in fact nothing but an absolute attempt to get, felo niously, into the house, will induce him to arouse the inmates. If his suspicions are awakened he will go, very quietly, from door to door, and from window to window, sniff ing softly at each, and ascertain the exact state of affairs. Then if his voice is heard it is time for everybody to get up. The rob bers will always certainly run away when they hear him, but if there is any 'unpleas antness' the dog may be trusted to do his full share of the w ork, though he could not under take it alone. Buch a dog should never be alloweil to fraternize with strangers or to take food from unaccustomed hands, though, probably', his disposition will not lead him to do so, but jioisoned meat surreptitiously thrown over the fence is a great aid to bur glars."—San Francisco Examiner. An Explanation. "See here, waiter, how is it that I find • trousers button in this salad ?" "Dat am a part of de dressin' sah."— Life. to STORIES AEOUT MEN. Car A Joke on Col. Nat Crutchfield, lisle's Clerk. Col. Nat Crutchfield, desk clerk to Speaker Carlisle, is handsome enough, but he isn't so fat that people joke him on his obesity. On the contrary. The other evening he was call ing on a pretty girl up town (he is popular with the sex), and she wanted to light an extra gas jet. "Have you got a match, colonel ?" she asked. "Ah," replied the colonel, with insinuat ing grace as he looked down his long, slender figure, "I've been told I was one." "It wasn't the girl's mother that told you, was it, colonel f" she inquired, with a sweet, innocent smile, and the colonel, with a faint little spark, went out.—Washington Critic. How Gen. Sherman Saved Jefferson's Life. Two plainly dressed men stood at the clerk's desk in the Fifth Avenue hotel last night. Everybody recognized them, for their names and faces are familiar everywhere. The one was tall and erect, with grizzled beard, old derby hat. and carelessly arranged necktie; the other was smooth faced, with regular features, merry sparkling eyes, and jet black hair combed to points that pro jected over his ears. They were William Tecumseh »Sherman and Joe Jefferson, the actor. They were, chatting gaily and evidently enjoying themselves. The famous soldier and osculator was tellin; storing. Turning to a third party in the group he said: "One of the most valiant achieve ments of my life, which I look back to with unalloyed pleasure, was the saving of Joe's life. It occurred last summer. Wo were both in the parlor upstairs talking to some ladies. Joe hail to leave early, and excused himself. After he went out I noticed a bun dle of manuscript on the floor. I thought at first it belonged to me, but finding mine safe I harried out to the elevator after Joe. But he had gone down by way of the stairs. I hallooed: "Joe, Joe," but he didn't hear me. I ran down after him two steps at a time, I finally caught up with him, and, handing him the manuscript, said: "Here, Joe, you've forgotten something." A serious expression spread over his face as he took it and said in tremulously solemn and impressive voice: 'My God, you've saved my life!' "It was his autobiography, which he was engaged upon at the time."—New York Even ing Sun. Napoleon III anil Ilis American Guest. The following relating to Napoleon III— the authenticity of which we absolutely guarantee—is not generally known. On a citizen of Yankeeland being presented to him by Mr. Dayton, the American minster at the court of the Tuilleries, Napoleon III, wishing to be most gracious, remarked pleasantly: "I know New York well, and have some very pleasant reminiscences of my visit there." The feelings of the occupier of the unsteady throne founded by the coup d'etat may be more easily imagined than described, when the Gothamite, not to be outdone in civility, blandly replied; "I am glad to hear it; I hope we shall have the pleasure of seeing your majesty there again before long." But the poor emperor was used to this sort of thing, for when Lady Blessington, shortly after he had been proclaimed emperor, went to the Tuilleries, expecting a hearty welcome for the sake of the old days at Gore house, Ken sington, and met with a chilly reception from the French sovereign, who, full of his new dignity, could not overlook the scandal which her ladyship's known intimacy with Count D'Orsay could not fail to give rise to, the nephew of Petit Caporal distinctly got tho worst of it* "Do you intend staying long In France?" coldly asked his imperial majesty, with marked emphasis. "No, sire," replied the Irish countess, with a twinkle in her eye; "do you?"—Modern Society. Was it Saltonstall's Joke? Life would be very dreary for Mr. S. N. Dyer, Jr., private secretary of Collector Saltonstall, if he could not have a little fun once in a while ; hence the issue by him yes terday of the following notice: "In accordance with department orders, the custom house will be doted on the first day of January next." This order was received during the day by the different heads of departments and by them formally turned over to their clerks to promulgate. The effect on the employees was electric. All were highly pleased, but they could not understand the motive that prompted this seeming liberality of the gov ernment; for it is not, and never has been, the custom to close the offices on New Year's Day. After a while, one clerk who was brighter than the rest observed that Jan. 1 falls on Sunday, and ventured to suggest to the sec retary that he appeared to have made an error in writing Jan. 1, when he meant Jan. 2. But it wasn't an error; it was only a joke. Custom house clerks are not so happy os they were.—Boston Transcript. Beauty in Washington. Washington Editor—A pretty mess you've made of that ball. What do you mean, sir, by calling Mrs. Rednose "distractingly beautiful?" New Rep'èrter —You told me 1 could get all the points I needed from last year's files, and she was called "distractingly beautiful" in every report last season. "You'd better keep posted on the history of your native country, sir. Last year Mr. Rednose was chairman of the committee on public pap; this year lie's on ventilation and acoustics, and near the tail end at that."— Omaha World. Ananias at Work. A Missouri man says that he recently went into the woods, painted a black circle on the end of a log, and when he went back to the log an hour later he found 300 dead rabbits there, the animals having mistaken the circle for a hole in the log and dashed themselves to death against it. Since the story has ap peared in print he has received letters from the publishers of several New York dailies, offering him the position of affidavit clerk, his duties being to swear to the circulation. But he says he caunot tell a lie.—Norristown Herald. A Good Reason. Justice—Your testimony as to the prison er's character isn't complete. I want to know about the last five years. Haven't you been living in his neighborhood? Witness—Not two blocks from him. Justice—Ahl Well, now, what can you tell ns about him for—say the last year ? Witness—Nothing, your honor. Justice—Why not, sir? Witness—Because I was in jail.—Phila delphia CalL a in on so in he ing ing out then New music or the streets. THE FORTY BRAYING BANDS OF NEW YORK AND BROOKLYN. A Census of the Discord Makers of the Metropolis—The Leaderless Band ol Three Pieces—Haml Organ, Violin and Harp—Whistlers. Much that is musical, and more that is ear rending and head splitting in its discord, is tooted, blown, rattled, squeaked and pounded by the thousand odd players on instruments who pick up a living in the streets of New York and Brooklyn. This regiment of itin erant destroyers of harmony and disturbers of peace is made up of about ten divisions. By far the largest of these divisions is the one that numbers in its ranks the gutter bands. Then come the grinders of the wheezy organs. Next on the list are the manipulators of the crank pianos. The banjo players follow in order, and then the field is filled with the violinists, harpers, cor net soloists, pipers, singers and whistlers. There are more than forty street bands tooting for pennies in the two cities every pleasant day. Three or four of these bands number eight or ten performers each, and they get themselves up in pretty good style so far as uniforms are concerned. The leader is usually a mar. of middle age, and, with the exception of ttie strong lunged individual who operates the bas3 horn anil the man who helps the leader out on the cornet end, the players are all boys. They make pretty good music when they are feeling well. Other street bands have as few as three pieces—cornet, alto and bass horn. Bands of this description play in front of saloons, and they are usually leaderless. Sometimes the alto horn gets under jvay before the cornet and its deeper toned neighbor, and just as frequently the bass horn starts in first. Of all the noises that are forced through imper fect horns, that of the leaderless band of three pieces is unquestionably the worst. Yet these bands manage to pick up between £G and $S a day. THE ORGAN GRINDER. The organ grinder has long been with us. He is remembered by the oldest inhabitant, and, judging from tie doleful strains of "Yankee Doodle" and kindred selections that are heard on the street, the organs have been in use for many yearn. This instrument is immensely popular with the children. It matters not how discordant its efforts at music may be, they like it. In the tenement house districts an organ grinder is sure to get five cents a tune, and it takes less than five minutes to grind out a selection with methodical man at rhe crank. There are over seventy-five old j.:.:*, oned hand organs in use in and about Nfw York, and it is a poor day when they fa.< Ic charm £2.50 from the children and motL'-rs. The crank piano is a natural outgrowth of the hand organ. Progressive civilization de manded something better than wheezy organs, and tho rattlety bang piano was in troduced to fill the long felt want, as it were. It really has some oiaim on the public ear. In the first place it gives us music that is comparatively new. Snatches from the pop ular comic operas are common with it, and the way it renders them is not entirely voi«l of interest. There are thirty street hand pianos on regular duty. Good banjo music is scarce on the street Of the dozen odd players who make their liv ing around town by thumping this instru ment, all but one are negroes. There are two banjo players up town »vho know how to play right well. They frequent the saloons during the winter time, and whenever they fin «! a party of young fellows who are out for tho night they make good money. One can s f and more of banjo music than he can of any other kind. "tt hile the hand organ becomes intol erable in ten minutes, t je banjo is listened to with interest for an hour. The banjo itiner ants usually travel in pairs, and plantation melodies go with the music. VIOLIN AND IIAP.P. As nearly as can be ' ascertained there are ten violin-harp combinations in existence in New York city. These players are entitled to more merit as musicians than any that play on the street for what the public is pleased to give them. It requires years of training to become at all proficient as a violinist or a harpist, and it costs something, too. Out of twenty-five persons who undertake to master the violin, not more than one is ever able to make good music. Considering this fact (for it is a fact), it is remarkable that all the street violinists are capable musicians. Damp weather and cracked instruments do much to make otherwise good music squeaky and dis agreeable. The heyiay of the pij*?r has passed, and the pipes are now a novelty. Once or twice a year their peculiar ruusfe can be heard on the streets along the river front, but it doesn't seem to take .«s it used to, and the pipers get disgusted and quit. Three whistlers—a white man in Erooklyn, a negro up town and a negro down town pucker their respective mouths to the latest popular airs on the city streets. For whist ling that appeals to on Us change pocket the negro up town has tho decided advantage. He has a way of rendering "Way Down Upon the Suwanee River" that is truly me lodious. Tho down town negro makes a spe cialty of whistling tunes that have varia tions. He can give you the "Mocking Bird" in twelve different styles, and is practicing on the thirteenth. He can imitate a canary so cleverly that the bird's own mother couldn't tell the difference. Singing in the street requires great lung power, and it Is hard work. The only suc cessful street singer in the two cities is a wo man about 50 years of age, whose voice is sweet and plaintive, and whose sad face brings her money when her efforts at vocal entertainment fail—New York Star. Larry Jerome Emulates Henry Bergh. Larry Jerome tells a good story on himself in this wise: On his recent trip to the south he was walking along a country road he came up to a long, lank, ague shaking native, who was mired in the clay with his two wheeled cart. His mule was tugging with might and main, while the fellow was beat ing him over the back with an old wagon spoke. Mr. Jerome is tender hearted regard ing brute creation and indignantly pro tested: "Here, you white livered, measly whelp, wba't are you beating that mule in that inhu man way for? Why, yotf are worse than Ba laam." " 'Cos I got er bigger ass talkin' ter me." Whack! whack! pingl whack! bif ! and the mule with a superhuman effort lifted the cart out of the clay. "Yeou doan't know any more 'bout mules then yeou dew 'boat mindin' yer own busi ness," shouted the native as he drove off.— New York Evening Sum. ■ is to he no be her hat 3Iiss you man ol is THE GERMAN BARBER. Fight an«! he He Waxes Inquisitive, Has Wins the Day. "You vos a commercial draffler, eh?" "No." The assistant to the German barber was the one who asked the question, addressing i> to a slender but middle aged man inthecbaii at which he earned his far from monotonous way through fife. He had shaved this cus tomer two or three times before, and was endeavoring to find out all about him, as all barbers always have done when their curi osity was up and their man was down and lathered and well tucked in. "Oh, you're c-hoost a glerk by a sdore, eh "No; shave up whin you git to me neck. Me neck is tinder." "Certently; I know dot. Maype you peen in der ligger peezness. Veil, dot's a fine peezness, bai i.-kler uf you got a good shtand. I know a frent of mine from der same village vhere I vos born, und got" "Me frind, O'im not in the saloon trade, at all, and so ye're joost wastin' yer breath Aisy wid your razor on me chin." "All righd; you keeb your peezness by yourselluf. I choost like to make mineselluf bolite mit you, dot's all." The job was practically finished, the lai strokes of the brush were being applied, when "the monkey barber," as the boss alwayi called him, on account of his foolishness, ex hibited a loss both of temper and discretion owing to the customer's reticence, "Uf you vos ashamed von your peezness you done right not to told somedings apowd dot; vot it vos. A man s got to put von ey out und look sharp like der teffle nowadays, on ackound uf Anthony Gomstocks und In sbector Villiams und der society for der bre wention uf cruelty, alretty ; bartickler uf he vos doing grooked peezness, yet." "Thunder and stars!" shouted the eus tomer, literally beside himself and springing out of the chair. "Fwhat d'ye mane at all wid yer slack? Me bizness is me bizness, and it's not tho rights of army monkey faced cracked jawed larrup i / a Dootch divil to crass quistion me fwhiniver he has me laid out in a chair at his convanience. Me biz ness, is it? It's lickin' the Dootch; that's fwhat it is. There, now; come on, now, till I polish the flure wid yer head." "Hoi' on! Sdop a leetlel Vait choost a minute!" said the boss, rushing to the aid of his assistant. "Dis ding's got to been blayed owd. Whoeffer licks dot poy must first lick mineselluf. It vos fife year, now, vot effery bugnacious Irishmans by der city has peen licking dot poy, und it costs me a veek's vages for a substidoot each dime alretty." "Oi'll lick the two av yer and all yer rela tions," said the irate customer. "D'ye think Oi'll lay shtill and let a comic picture from a Dootch paper walk all over me wid his tongue" "Chimany cracky!" shouted the German barber, seizing the hot water kettle with its gallon of boiling contents. "A man can't die more as vonce, alretty. Run, or I boil you mit der kettle. Chake! Vhy der tickens don't you do somedings? Kick der stofe ofer und glimb by der sdreet und yell like sexty, or chump down his troat und carve your vay owd from his boots mit der razor. I show you, you pig loaver." At the same instant the German barber be gan to swing the kettle like a madman. The assistant lifted the great slab of marble off the table, and both advanced toward the cus tomer. They were too much for him. He seized his hat and overcoat and fled, pausing at the door to hiss something about a lunatic asylum between his teeth. When he had gone the German barber dropped into a chair in a paroxysm of laughter. "Chake," said he, "dot's der greatest day uf my life.—New York Sun. Australian "Helps.** (Alleged ads in Victoria paper.; Wanted—An amiable and high toned family consisting of a delicate and shrinking elderly widow who is a small eater any way and has her meals sent in from a restaurant, secure a comfortable home with a supe rior cook. No notice taken of families who give dinners or who fail to take nicked chflia in a truly Christian spirit. Address "Earnest Worker," forwarding credentials authentica ted by a clergyman. Wanted—An industrious and bard working family who do their own cooking, washing, ironing, ashes sifting, dressmaking, mending, dusting, sweeping, nursing, whitewashing, bousecleanhig, carpet beating, fancy work, ■ hamberwork, preserving, knitting, painting in oils, scrubbing, wax fruit and care cf the cow, and who have an agile hired man to make fires, fill lamps, snuff candles, exercise the pugs, clean the silver, ran for the doctor, wind the clocks, tend door and shoo noctur nal cats off the back fence, can hear of a good opening with a lady whose specialty is gen eral housework. Address "Overtasked." Wanted—A winning and modest appearing male baby, 3 months old, of unexceptionable moral character, would like to avail himself of the advantages of a nurse. Baby's name is mostly "Tootsey-Wootsey-Mamma's-Pet," but it can be changed to "Bub," if that seems to come handier. Can refer to seventeen nurses now in the lunatic asylum with whom he has lived during the past four weeks. Ad dress "Little Angel." Wanted—A graceful and accomplished family that moves in the best circles and has no poor relations that come to the house will be permitted to allay itself with a select waitress; must furnish satisfactory pedigree. Apply in applicant's own handwriting. No notice taken of letters not stamped with a "crest." Families that did not come over with William the Conqueror will be repulsed with scorn. Address "Deportment." Wanted—A chambermaid who Ls about to form matrimonial relations would like to procure a situation for a really deserving and well behaved family, which has lived with her for the last twelve years. This is a rare chance for a chambermaid in search of a family that keeps its place and never gives impudence. Salient sketch of family and im perial group picture furnished on application. Address "Orange Blossoms." — Cor. New York Tribune. a of Getting a Pleasant, Expression. Photographer (to sitter)—I saw you at church last Sunday, Miss Smith. Sitter—Oh, did you? . * Photographer— Y es, and also your friend Miss Brawn—if you could raise your chin a trifle, thanks—and what an atrocious looking hat she had on. (After a pause). There, 3Iiss Smith, it is over, and I think we have caught a very pleasant expression.—New York Sun. Poverty and Progress. Starving Supplicant—Please, sir, wauldn*t you be willing to buy a dog to help a poor man along? I have two more than I r.eed. . Well Fed Clerk—Very sorry, but I can't afford to keep a dog.—Omaha World. the lies the A the The up in herd he i> all at I A MODEST FONT MAN. HOW A HUMORIST AN EMINENT CLIMBED PLACE. TO Country Hoys Who Have Become Fa mous in Journalism—Prominent Busi ness Men Who First .«aw Daylight in the Rural Districts—A Long List. Whoever reads about a funny man sus pects fun in what he is reading, but no fun is intended when I say that Nye is modest. He is almost painfully so. He is himself the last person he ever talks about—the last whom he tries to push along. It was in the minds of most men present on the evening when he was introduced to the guild he has himself distinguished, to regard him as in teresting because he is an outsider come to New York. Not only that, because he has leaped from Wyoming territory over the heads of so many of us here and into a salary of £5,(WO a year. That is the broad fact about his life. The lesser details are known to few. Born in New England, he went west while young, but, like the typical American, was not so much either an eastern or a west ern man, but that he could strongly identify himself with other sections, as he did with Asheville, N. C. He is a lawyer, but discon nected newspaper work was his main reliance until one day he ceased serious writing, discovered his own humorous vein, founded a paper in Laramie City, Wy, T., named it The Boomerang, after a mule that he owned, and saw it fail for lack of subscribers, while every newspaper office in the country prized it and riddled it with shears. Then Le had an offer of the position he now occupies, and his success excites re mark among his co-laborers because, as they say, "he is a country boy who has climbed to eminence over the shoulders of the New Yorkers." Was there ever such nonsense unpunished? The very men who have made this remark to me are countrymen bora and reared. In that room, listening to Nye, there was only one bora New Yorker—himself a curiosity in the profession on that account. In the little circle that Nye joined on that night are the managing editors of six daily newspapers, and not one of them is a New Yorker. There were leader writers, critics, city editors and reporters, and only one a New Yorker. Was there ever such a thing heard of? New York is instructed, entertained, advised and in formed by countrymen manning every one of its newspapers. And pray tell mo in what walk of life in Gotham would Bill Nye be any more of an exception to the rule than he Is in journal sim? Wall street, ruled by Gould, who came with a headful of hayseed grown tip the Hudson; or S. V. White, who is as country looking today as the obelisk in the park, and who hails from a farm ; or Cyrus W. Field, of the little hamlet of Stockbridge, Muss. A\ ould Bill Nye have broken the rule had he come here to practice law with Roscoe Conk ling, of L tica, who was a rank provincial in dress, habits and manners when he stalled anew at middle'age in this city a few years a S°) with Joseph G. Choate, who was a coun try boy with Liihu Root, who hails from the Adirondack region, or William F. Howe, tho English immigrant, or niuety-niuo in a hundred other lawyers? Would Edgar Wil son Nye be a rarity if he.had come here a clergyman with North of Ireland John Hall, Western Dr. Collyer, and all the others, among whom only two that I know of are city men? Here and there you will find in the roll of city doctors the bom New York son of a dead and gone New Yorker, inherit ing the father's business, but the leading doc tors and the mass of doctors are. off the farms of the country. And pray where is it not the same, from our country born mayor to the last figurante in the last line of girls in Rice's Burlesque company? Our best policeman, Alex Williams, is a Nova Scotian; our pet and pride. C'hauneey Mitchell Depew ran barefooted over the rocks of Westchester as a boy; our Harry Hill was a country bumpkin in England once; our Morosini, whom the boys irreverently call "the macaroni millionaire," was a country boy in Italy, and Russell Sage would not get over being "country" or swapping horses or wearing boots if he lived a thousand ye* rs. Erastus Wiman was born in Toronto, so that he is not a countryman, but neither ie he a New Yorker. It is tho same in the art world. The only New York born artist that I know of is Charles J. Taylor, of Puck. In politics there are several New Yorkers, though they form only a drop in the bucketful of country men who rule this town. But to turn the subject and view it from tho other side, let us see whether any New Yorkers occur to the mind as having a fame sufficient to rank them in importance with the country boys who are forever ponring into town and shouldering every one before them and out of their way? Yes, there is Tneodore Roosevelt and Henry Bergh and Berry Wall, the ex-monarch of dude dom; and William Waldorf Astor, and, I think, Judge Hilton, the heir of A. T. Stewart, and James Gordon Bennett, Tony Pastor, Pierre Lorillard and Edward Harri gan. Of those who were born here and are quite famous in town there are many of the heirs of old established business houses, among which Mr. Bennett and Mr. Lorillard belong, as do the Appletons anil Harpers; but though their establishments are famous abroad in the land the individuals are mainly unknown outside the city. If yoi include the Knickerbockers and other landed fami lies of long established residence here you will add possibly 2,000 men, women and chil dren to the list, though not all the Knicker bockers (by which is meant descendants of the Dutch) are city folks. Every one of the Vanderbilts of the first, second and third generations, dating forward from the old commodore, was born a countryman and farmer's son.—Julian Ralph's New Ÿork Letter. Scheme for Swindling Farmers. The latest scheme to swindle the farmer is being perpetrated under the guise of a so called society to prevent the killing of birds. A man invades the rural home, talks glibly about the good beingMone for the farmer by the birds, and ends by asking him to sign a pledge not to kill a bird in twelve months. The pledges, with a little manipulation, turn up in the way of a promissory note and make trouble.—Chicago News. Herd of Buffalo. Here's news for those sportsmen who are anxious to get a shot at a buffalo before they disappear from the continent. The Cheyenne Leader says that a herd of 200 has been found in the Big Horn mountains. Pity the whole herd couldn't be saved and protected by the government. of is mv all HIS TURKISH BATH. A Modest Man Takes a Gentle Dig at Oriental Luxury. Gentle reader, have you ever bathed? Turkish bathed? I wot not. I have, woe is me, and I am now a sadder and a cleaner man. If this article, which is meant to be deliciously light and playful, appears to you to be fraught with an underlying varicose vein of gloom, do not hastily pass it by, but remember that it's in the interest of science. I have dallied with the luxury of the Orient (so called). Also remember that I have con tracted a deep, sonorous cold, wliieh will in all probability fond»y nestle in my bosom till my ulster blooms again. The preliminaries of the Turkish bath are simple. You pay 81 at the door and pass into the "cooling room," where the mercury registers OS degs. The appropriateness of this title does not burst upon you until you have visited the inner shrine, where the tempera time is up near the boiling point. In the "cooliug room" you are privilege«! to deposit your valuables in a safe. I did not avail myself of this b«x>n, however, for reasons of a purely private nature, but passed at once into the "disrobing room." This room was not so large os to apjiear dreary, nor yet so small as some I have lodged in on the Bowery, but was about 7x4. The furniture was simple yet chaste, consisting of a chair anil a brush and comb long past their prime. The comb was chaineil to the wall, but the brush was permitted to roam at will. Hastily divesting myself of sealskins, jaegers and other pano plies of rank, I arranged them in a neat pile in the center of the room and placed the chair upon them. This simple precaution I have learned to practice when occupying a room separated from its fellows by low partitions. Your neighbor may be a disciple of Izaak Walton, and during your sleep or absence may take a cast over the partition with hook and line. V hat could be more embarrassing than to have one's trousers thus surrepti tiously removed? I am a lover of the "geutlo art" myself, but I am ever loath to be played for a sucker. I was now ushered into the "hot room," where a number of gentlemen wyre lolling about anil perspiring affably and fluently. Being of a timid, shrinking nature, 1 was somewhat embarrassed on entering a room thus filled with strangers, and the more so as I realized fiat my costume was too bizarre and striking for one of my willowy propor tions. Ho 1 flung myself with an affectation of easy grace upon a marble divan, but im mediately arose therefrom with a vivid blush and a large blister. I then sat upon a seeth ing chair until I came to a boil, when I rose up and endeavored to alleviate my sufferings by restlessly pacing the room. A* few towel 3 were scattered about, and as the nimble chamois leaps from crag to crag, so leaped I from towel to towel in my efforts to keep my feet off red hot floor. Having basked in this room until I was quite aglow,. I sum moned the attendant and told him he could take me out at once or wait yet a little longer and remove me through a hose. I then passed into the "manipulating room," where I was laid out on an unelastic marble slab like a "found die "icd" at the morgue, and was taken in hand by a muscular attendant, who proceeded to manipulate me with great vio lence. He began upon my chest, upon which he pressed until he lifted his feet off the floor and my shoulder blades made dents in the marble. I mildly asked if it was absolutely necessary that my respiratory organs should be thus flattened, to which he replied, with a rteh Turkish accent: "Come off, young follow, I know my biz," and swooped down upon my digestive organs. Manipula tion consists of disjointing, dismembering, bruising and rending limb from limb, and may be healthful, but it is not popular with me. This man said he was a pianist also, and that he could manipulate and at tho same time strengthen his fingers and improve his technique, and to illustrate ho struck a few resounding chords in the small of my back ami then proceeded to interpret Wag ner up and down my vertebræ, running scales, twidiliing up in the treble and thun dering down in the bass, just as if I were the keyboard of a Steinway grand, an illusion doubtless heightened by the ivory w'hiteness of my skin. He wound up by playing that grand old show off piece, the "Battle of Rrague," while I joined in with the "Cries of the Wounded." It was n fine rendering, no doubt, but next time I am to be played upon I shall ask for a soft andante movement—a Chopin noctune, say.—New York World. Never Heard of Sullivan. Cowboy—Who is this man Sullivan the papers are talking about? Omaha Man—My stars! Haven't you heard of Sullivan, the great prize fighter?'" "Fights, eh? I'd like to see him." "Yes, he's knocked out more men than"—— "Knocked out? What's that?" "With his fists, you knqw." "Great Buffalo Bill! YVho wants to bother with fists in these days of hnr triggers?"— Omaha World. Striking a Balance. Bagley—Ha, Gagley, squaring up accounts for the year? Gagley (gloomily)—Yes. Bagley—Hope you come out well. Gagley—Well, I've put $10,000 into the bank. Bagley—That isn't so bad. I don't see why you look so glum. Gagley—Don't eh? Why,confound it, I've drawn out over $13,000,—Life. Iu Small Quantities. Chicago Drummer (to stranger)—What line of goods are you soiling, sir? Stranger (with dignity)—I'm a lawyer. I sell brains. Chicago Drummer—Ah, yes. Retail, I s'pose?—New' York Sun. Next Tiling to If. Guest (to landlord)—I say, landlord, have you got such a thing as an encyelopædia about the house? Landlord—No, sir, we have not; but there is a gentleman from Boston in the reading room.—Harper's Bazar. The Full Programme. Omaha Mamma—Mercy on me! What does all this racket mean on Sunday? And you've got all your dcils out, too. Little Dot—You said we might play church. "Do you call all this gabble and laughter church?" "No, mamma; church hi just over and the folks is goin' home."—Omaha World, A Bachelor's Christmas. First Bachelor—Did you have a happy Christmas. Second Bachelor—Yon bet I did. One of mv shirts came back from the laundry with all the buttons off.—Omaha World.