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Helena, Montana, Thursday, August 30, 1888. No. 40 <ri|c!ïlfchluïjrrai.l. R. E. FISK D. W. FISK A. J. FISK. Publishers mid Proprietors. Largest Circulation of any Paper in Montana Rates oi Subscription. WEEKLY HERALD: One Year. (In imIvhik p).............................$3 (XI Months, (In advance)...................... ...... 1 75 Three Months, (in advance)........................... 1 00 When not paid for In advance the ra'c will be Four Dollar» per y carl I'uslHKe, in all eases. Prepaid. DAILY HERALD : CV.y StibaôMhèrs,^ e 1 '''•îîîtî by cKt!;; 81,00a mouth Wie Year, by mail, (in advance)................. 8<j 00 Six Months, by mail, (in advance)............... 5 00 Three Months, by mail, (in advance)........... 2 50 If not paid in advance, 812 per annum. F ntered at the Postoffice at lie] na as second class matter.) -WTA11 communications should he addressed to FISK BROS., Publish era, Helena, Montana TO THE NIGHTINGALE.____ fih, dear one, with tawny wirgs. Dearest of singing things. 'Vliose hymns my company liave been. Thou art come, thou art come, thou art seen! hid. with the music of thy voice. Sweet a wading ru tUer I ha heart rejoice; Ah! louder, louder, louder sing, 1 lute out the language of the spring; Nay, let those low notes rest, Uh my nightingale, nightingale, trill out thy anapa-st. Come, my companion, cease from thy slumbers, Pour iut thy holy and musical numbers, Sing and lament with a sweet throat divine, Itys of many tears, thy son and mine; Pry out, unci quiver and shake, dusky throat. Throb with a thrill of thy liquidest note. Through llio wide country, and mournfully through Leafy haired branches and I toughs of the yew,3 \t idens and rises the echo until Even the throne room of God it shall fill. The n when Apollo, the bright locked, hath heard, là), ho shall answer thine elegy, bird. Playing Iris ivory, seven stringed lyre, bUUidmg a god in the high god's choir. Ay, and not ho alone. Hark! From immortal throats arise Diviner threnodies. Hounding together in a heavenly moan, And answering thine own. —A. Mary F Robinson, from Aristophanes. Aristophanes. WAITING FOR THE BUGLE. TTe wal* f r the bugle: the night dews are cold. The limbs of the soldiers feel jaded an l old, The (id . of our bivouac is windy and bare. Then- is load in our joints, there is frost in our hair. Th>* future is toiled and its fortunes unknown As wo lie with hushed breath tiil tho bugle Is blown. At the sound of that buglo each comrade shall spring lake an arrow release 1 from tho strain of the string: Tho courage, the impulse of youth shall come hack. To banish the chill of the drear bivouac, And aorrows and losses and cares fade- away NVhen that life giving signal proclaims tho now day. Though tho bivouac of age may put ice in our veins. And no fiber of steel in our sinew remains; Though tho comrades of yesterday's inarch are not here. And the sunlight seems pale and the branches are sear— Though tho sound of our cheering dies down to a moan, We shall find our lost youth when tho buglo is blown. —Thomas Wentworth Iligginson in The Century, THE WORLD. A playground—oft with clouded skies That o'er the rosebuds weep. Where little troubles take tho weight Of sorrows far more deep; Where loved toys break in tiny hands— Sad symbols of the time When hope shall cheat and Joys depart Iu life's swift passing prima A battlefield where forces meet, And unseen hosts contend. With truces all so short, they seem With the wild strife to blend; Strife that leaves none of us unscathed. Where'er the mastery be; But who, till the Great Pay, can tell With whom is victory? A graveyard, where on every side Pale monuments arise, To show how brief is human life, How vain is all wo prisa » A graveyard filled by memory. Where phantoms lightly tread, But each one points with finger raised To bluo skies overhead. —Camilla Crosland in Chambers' Journal. FAIRIES' WASHING. Roger and glad to the house she ran. With a smile on her upturned face; "You never can guess what I've found, mamma, 0, thousands of hits of lace! 'Tli** fairies have done thefr washing, I know, It's out on tho orchard grass, And it's spread so close there is hardly room For even a bird to pass. "I picked up this fairy handkerchief, 1 wanted to show! it to you." She opened her hand—O, the sorrowful face! There was only a drop of dew. —Wide Awake. Failures of Young Orators. It is encouraging to young speakers to know that there never has been, and never will be, such a thing as a "born or ator." There 1ms never yet been an in stance of an orator becoming famous who did not apply himself assiduously to the culti- at ion of his art. Many even had to overcome great physical infirmities that rendered it almost hopeless for them to a<i< ;-t the career of a public speaker. Tho «•st known instance is that of Demos thenes, who passed some mouths in a sub terranean cell, shaving one side of his heu i so that lit-could not appear iu public, «o there practiced with pebbles in his mouth K> overcome a defect in his speech, and gesticulated beneath a suspended sword to rid himself of an ungraceful siovement of the shoulder. Even then ■*c was hissed from tho borna in his early \\ ' but ho persevered—the world \v. i" S with " l )a t success. When Robert alpolo fh\jt spoke in the house of com *uns, he paused for want of words, and oi,! mued only to stutter and stammer. tirran was known at school as "stut , , m & ;! ark Curran," and in a debating so r,_* vlneh ho joined, as "Orator Mum." f,n , ry ou ? " - 11 «Iso readily recall Disraeli's an _ 3 r ,° " 'f 1 , 1 ll0 rose to make his maiden LoinH'" 4 ■ first effort was also a cumulating failure.—Once a Week. THE LAST TOURNAMENT. All my life it has seemed to me that thero never was so delightful a room as the big dining room at Woodstock. It was a long, narrow room, with narrow slits of windows, so shaded on one side by the black green cedar trees that grew up against it that the room was always half in shadow, but on the other side you had a view of the gray tops of the race stables, and just beyond a rolling sweep of blue grass fields, with a cool, clear pond lying in the midst like a shield of burnished silver. Within the whole end of the room almost was taken up by a huge fireplace, with a broad, flagged hearth and a mantel shelf set high above nil nossible depredations of childish curiosity. * Tnto tillsfife logs t>TbRTt ory &Ild maple would be piled, and Ü was the delight of my childhood to sit in the corner,a veritable Cinderella,and caf ch the sweet, pungent, smolte flavored juice that the lire stewed out of tho wood. Over against the opposite wall stood a long, low. mahogany sideboard, black with age, in the dusky mirror whose polished wood the flames reflected themselves with strange and grotesque variations, now dying down to a tremulous glow in the black 'panel of a door, now catching a silvery radiance from the long lines of racing cups on the upper shelf or giving cut prismatic gleams from t ho heavy glass decanters. Oh, it was a pleasant enough room to sit in, especially in tho twilight, when the gloaming peopled the room with tho fan tastic shadows that dreams are made of. Likely as not, just ns the fire died down and the flames began to flicker into un steady light, there would be a shuffling jf fee; in tho doorway, and an old negro man, with a kindly,whimsical face, would come in, smiling above tho heavy "turn" at wood he was bringing to replenish the tiro, it would bo Jeff, who had been born on the place, and to whom it belonged as much as to any of its ostensible white owners, not by right of title deeds, but by right of pride and love in it. Jeff's place in the family ha 1 long been i sinecure. He had ridden the famous horses raised on the place, when he was a light weight jockey, and in after years, when he grew too heavy for that, he was head groom and uudisputable authority on turf matters; but above all, he had been Marse Phil's friend and companion in childhood and youth. He had helped Marse Phil trap rabbits and train colts; lie went off with Marse Phil to the war, md when he fell in that awful rush of cavalry at Fort Donelson it was Jeff who walked home all tho way, leading Black Bess by tho bridle—tho horse on which Marso Phil was killed was sacred to him, and ho would not rido it. Well, ole Miss never thought of that without dropping an extra lump of sugar into his "toddy," ora little more "sper rits," for JefE belongs to the old regime md has no opinion of the new fungled temperance notions. "Dey ain't no sense in hit," he always argues, "for what does the good book say? 'Take a little for det stomach's sake,' eu I ay folks is built des do same way now ley wuz den. Deys got de ve'y same kind cf stomachs, cn dey need comfortin' powerfuHy sometimes." It was fast growing dark one winter evening, I remember, when Jeff came in with his armful of wood, which he de posited in tlie wood box, fmd then stood leaning against tho mantel, negro fashion, with his foot on tlie burning logs. Some how his ragged clothes with their incon gruous patches fell about him pictur esquely, his knotty old black hands hung idly by his side, and the flames leaping up showed li^s face sharpely outlined against tho white wall, as still and immovable as If it was carved in bronze. But tho face was full of the wistful lpngingsand mem ories of old ago. the pathetic look that comes to those who dwell m the past and for whom the future has neither hope nor promise. promise. Presently ho went over to the side board and began touching, one by onf, tho long rows of silver cups and goblets —the trophies he had helped to win. They were his fetiches, the visible idols that represented all the happy past, and he did not noed the inscriptions, at best meaningless scrawls to him, to tell him on what raco course or at what fair Frax inella or Miss Wilkins, or Autocrat or Surprise had won one or another of them, and he knew well enough that the time dad been when each of these silver cups represented fortunes staked on the speed and endurance of a horse. It was some thing worth remembering, those races when they ran four mile heats, and it took all the nerve and endurance of rider and horse to win. There was the cup that was given .wlign FraxiAella won the race at Nacliez, when she ran twenty miles at one oace—the best two out of three—with two dead heats. And then there were the Crevasse and Wagner cups—Jeff chuckled softly to himself as he touched them: "Wo won deni at Nashville, honey," he said aloifd; "we'd done entered Crevasse and Wagner for do three mile race, en des ez me and Marse Phil wuz startin ole marster call out: 'Boys, win a race or kill a hoss.' Well, Marthy Dunn en Invincible wuz de fus favrites, and we run our hosses agin em, mo a-ridin, en we won bof races, but Wagner drapped under me jess ez I got under do string. You know dat hoss know wbuts spected of him en he ain't gwino to spint nobody. Des den Marso Phil come up eu I say: 'Fore Gord, Marse Phil,what you reckon offi marster's gwinetosay?' Enhespon: 'He's bleedged to say we Keyed him. We'se won a race to say we Keyed him. We'se won a race en killed a boss.'" After a bit Jeff turned, so that the light might fall a little fuller on it—a slender, ewerlike pitcher, that, with its attendant goblets, always stood in the center of the sideboard, and that no one ever moved. (He miss dusted them herself, with hands that never ceased to tremble at their task, and no one else, not even Jeff, dared to touch them. Oh, I knew very well what the florid inscription said, that was half bidden under tno mass of scrolls and arabesques carved on them. It was the premium that Marso Phil won at the last grand tournament they held iu that rich, die, happy country before the war swept •ver it, and made a new heaven and a lew earth for them. I knew ;,s well as if -Jeff had spoken that he was thinking of those far off days that are as rauch separated from us now as if centuries instead of years rolled be tween. I knew he was remembering the ring lie and Marse Phil laid off hr the blue grass meadow, where Marso Phil rracticed riding bare back and without a iridié on the thoroughbred marc he had chosen for the purpose. Round and round* he would go. tilting at the rings hang ing from their supports, and stringing them on the long, slender lance he was to tise. It was a pretty enough sight to see him practicing in the dewy mornings, both rider and horse with that indescrib able thoroughbred look, clean cut, power ful, erect, with an ear and an eye like an Indian's, and a courage one instinctively felt would never falter. They would go to their death, if need be, with a rush. Jeff never forgot those mornings. Some times lie would time them, sometimes ole marseter, sometimes pretty Polly, Mar^e Phil's cousin, would flutter down to the ring and stand there with tho big stop watch in her hands, the d.atetiest judge that ever called time or, n laggard rider. It was only when Polly was time keeper that the mare aqd her rider failed to get fcronud in the twenty seconds prest'rl^eQ w «Le lyuniuüôttt management for the race, and Jeff groaneu an be thought of the possible effect of Polly's presence on the great day "I lay Miss Polly's gwine to make Marse Phil lose dat race yit," he prophe sied dismally. 1110 ring in the meadow at Woodstock was but a prototype of many another in the neighborhood, for the tournament was to be a grand affair. The prize for the victor was a slender golden crown set with rubies, and lie was to choose from among the county belles the one he would crown queen of love and beauty. Finally the day arrived, such an Octo ber day as only comes to Tennessee and southern Kentucky, when the air is full Of the blue haze of Indiam summer and the forests are like banks of opal, red and yellow, brown and green, a quivering mass of color in tho autumn breeze, anil the long white turnpikes curve between banks of golden red and purple iron weeds. The fair grounds where the tour weeds. The fair grounds where the tour nament was to be held was gay with music and bright with flags. The rich country people were coming in in heavily laden carriages, the booths where colored lemonade and indigestible gingerbread was sold, or feats of skill or chance at tempted, were in full swing of custom. Hostlers led blanketed and silky coated horses in and out the crowd, nurses in gay bandannas and white aprons scurried about with dazed and frightened children every now and then the wind would bring a whiff of the savory barbecue being pre pared under the superintendence of old Ben in a trench under the oaks, for a big dinner and dance was to finish off the day's festivities. It was a noisy, bolster ous, good natured crowd, care free as they never were to bo again. Up at the amphitheatre tlie track was being sprinkled and rolled until it was hard and firm. Over at one side was the flight of steps covered with white cloth that led to the throne where some fortu nate youth was to lead his sweetheart, and there in the presence of all his little world crown her queen of love and beauty. It was as pretty and as picturesque scene under the soft southern skips as one could well imagine, and it would have been pathetic enough for all its bravery if only one had known that tho south had come to the very last days of her hundred years of song and merry making, and that this was almost the last holidaying of happy, care free people. But the band was beginning to play— what was it? "I'm dreaming now of Hal lie, sweet Hallie," it is the southern air, i we have one. Ah, ftiany a night under the stars on the eve of battle, or in the'dim gray dawn when they sprang from half broken dreams of home to boot and sad die, when the band played "Listen to the Mocking Bird," did those gallant young fellows recall that day with a heartsick and homesick throb. The music throbbed ont louder and louder through the vibrant air, the grooms were leading the sleek coated thoroughbreds round and round the ring, the contestants were getting ready only Marse Phil is lingering fora few last words with Polly, who is pinning on his breast a knot of white and silver ribbon that looks brave enough against the black velvet and silver lace that somehow makes a good foil for his fresh young beauty and lithe figure. "I am your knight, Polly," he Is say ing, "if I win I crown you queen of lov< and beauty, and my wife," and audacity wins with pretty Polly, as humility never would, and she flushes a little under her clear dark skin as she answers "If you win!" "If you win!" Those were the days when people read Scott instead of Howells ând James, and when they believed, like Stevenson, that the finest hero is better for wearing a bit of purple, so when the contestants in the tournament rode out they wore the old court dress. Most of them were descen dants of the old knightly lines of Eng land, and there may have been some in distinct inherited consciousness of other tourneys and jousts that made this sport take such hold on their imaginations, so they came as Ivanhoe and Boise Gilbert, and the Black Knight and Sir Launcelot, and a host of others. Presently the bugle called time and the firs» knight entered and saluted the audi ence that sat eager, breathless, attentive. Poor felloiv, it was not long before he earned a real knighthood on the field of battle, when he rode with that same un faltering and immovable seat in the sad dle right into the face of death and planted his colors on the enemy's smok ing battîmes. There was a murmur of recognition for him and his horse, for it was an audience that owned and was keenly critical of good horse flesh, and then there was a wild fanfare of music, the judge dropped the flag, and horse and rider were away on a mad race. Only twenty seconds in which the rider must take the ten rings, hanging from their hooks, on his long, slender lance. Quick of eye, supple of wrist, faultless horseman must he be or be loses. Twice the rider strings the ten glittering rings on his lance, but on tho third round his horse slips, a bit of inequality on tho track, a touch too light or heavy on the bridle, no one knows what, but it is one of those unforeseen mishaps that turns the for tunes of the day, for one at least, and as the rider leaves the ring he knows he is defeated. It was a sight well worth seeing, the beautiful horses and their gallant riders, but after a while it became apparent that that contest lay between Marso Phil and Cap. Edwards. Both were expert horse men and both rode horses whose records had been mado on many a hard run race. Excitement iu the contest had reached al most a fever heat, when the track was rolled for the last time, and in answer to tho bugle call Marse Phil rode into the ring and threw up Ins hand in salute to the applause that greeted Jiis entrance. to Ole Miss lias among her treasures a daguerreotype of him as lie looked that day, with his bright brown curls shining above the velvet and lace of his bizzarre rostnmo. with his proud young figure drawn up to its fullest height and in his eyes that look of courage, of determina tion, of victory. "Cose I knowed Marse Phil wuz a hand some man," Jeff always said in speaking of that day, "but I never see dat look on his face agin till I see him cliargin up de hill on Black Bess in de face of the can non, wid his soad in one hand en de flag in de yuther. Hit mek me think bout de day of the tournament right away, en God knows hit warnt no time to be thinkin bout home den." Well, it was only a moment Marse Phil sat there motionless on his horse, and then he and Black Bess were speeding ground the ring as lightly and smoothly as a "bird swesps iZ c "£l ea - "God, bow lie rides r a men e-^'.12I!2£_ under his ureath. "I wouldn't glYêUtat for Edwards' chances'/' with a contempt uous snap of the fingers; but Jeff, who has heard, and who in the exT-itfcment has pushed his way up to the railing that shuts in the track, Jeff only groaned,* f<it bo has just caught sight of pretty Polly, her face white with suppressed anxiety, leaning far over from the grand stand, and he remembers what a hindrance her presence used to bo at the practice in the blue grass meadow. "Marse Phil's des fool enough to lose do race count of some foolishness bout her," lie said to himself. He can only trust Marse Phil's eyes are elsewhere than on the grand stand. Already twice has ho strung every ring on his lance. He has only once more to take with his un erring hand the ten more rings that pro claim him victor. There is a moment's pause, and then, with the crash of the opening bars of music, Marse Phil is away threading his lance through tho rings at the mare's best gait. A third of the way around! Half of the way around! Jeff breathes easier. Marse Phil is op posite to tlie grandstand when he glances up to meet Polly's eyes fixed on him, so full of pride and love and joy, he loses his head a little. What wonder? poor fellow. It does not take a quarter of a second scarcely, but in that time Polly snatches off her arm a bracelet set thick with shin ing stones and throws it right before Black Bess' flying feet. Quick as the act Is, it is not quicker than love's intuition, and in another instant Marse Phil has strung his trophy oil the lance and is tak ing the last ring from the hook. It was gallantly done. The crowd cheered itself hoarse; but the timekeeper from the judges' stand called: "Twenty-one seconds!" Jeff stumbled away from the scene dazed and infuriated. He had so counted on success and Marso Phil had thrown it ,, „ I away in the very moihent of victory for a wonmn s whim. He hung his head as he led Black Bess back to tho stables, and when ho heard tlie shouts that saluted Capt. Edvards' victory ho laid his head down on the mare's neck and sobbed for disappointment. But Marse Phil had none of the signs of defeat about him as he made his way to where pretty Pollv, as duskily red as a June rose, was awaiting his coming. \\ hat was it she was saying under cover of all the noise and confusion? "You won" And Marse Phil in answer to the look in her eyes finished the sentence "My Queen of Love and Beauty.' For the sake of beauty's eyes he had lost tho prize, but tho management of the tournament sent him, in recognition of his superb horsemanship, the slender, ewerlike pitcher that still stands on the sideboard at Woodstock. That was the last tournament. Before another golden autumn rolled around, the tempest of war had broken over the laud, and the old south, the old, careless, idle, happy south had ceased to lie.—Elizabeth M. Gilmer in New Orleans Picayune. Fish of the Bahamas. The fish alone are remarkable in va riety. Among them are the black fish, tho porpoise, which seems to tumble about in all waters; the shark, the deadly foe of the sailor; the dolphin, in endless pursuit of the delicate Hying fish which scuds through the air because it is chased, and not because it enjoys it, which same dolphin is never cooked aboard a vessel unless a silver half dollar is put in the pot, for if the half dollar blackens then the dolphin is full of poison from having sucked copper from ship bottoms; the whipray, like the flounder and with a tail like a coachman's whip, sometimes ten feet long; the jewfish, which is to these waters as the halibut of our north east coast; the yellow tailed snapper, gi gantic turtles, the çatfish, the groupa, striped snapper, bonito, Spanish mackerel, angel fish, porklish, houndfish, and suck ing fish. Then thero is that dyead mystery to seamen, the Portuguese man of war, that strange formation of maritime life, like a mass of jelly with its ventral fins extend ing in every direction, riding the heaviest seas like a bird, and which sea folk say is a deadly poison to the touch; the starfish, sea urchins, the humming bird fish, the phosphorescent jellyfish or glow worm of the ocean, and other wonderful and start lingly colored' mites of these waters; be sides tiny caves and grottoes of white coral,where the sponges, like dark forests, are forever swaying with the endless mo tion of the vides, and where nestle and hide sea fans, the rainbow fish, conches containing priceless pearls and such deli cate elfs of- the ocean as we of tho land can only imagine through fairy lore or the witchery of dreams.—Edgar L. Wake man in St. Louis Republic. The l'ervasiveness of Lightning. A correspondent of The Springfield Re publican, describing the effects of a re cent lightning stroke, says that "the ceil ing of the room bad been replastered the preceding spring, and tbe sand of this lo cality. which Is used in mortar, is fer ruginous. Every metallic particle in the latter the fluid seemed to have found and detached, so as to give the plastered sur face an appearance better described as pock marked than by any other words at my command. "—Scientific American. There Is a Limit to Everything. A French officer has invented a micro phone which will record and announce the approach of a body of soldiers and give Bomo idea as to their numbers. He should provide it with an indicator that will point out the nearest and safest tree to get behind just before tho soldiers put in an appearance.—Nowistown Herald. a MICKEY FINN'S RATTLER. Tho air surrounding Cooney Island pal pitated with fervent heat. Parched and dry, tho blades of grass in Stumpy Field gave up their juices to tho thirsty air. The leaves in Lindsley's wood were stirred by no refreshing breeze, and dust lay six inches deep on the Old Point road. Even the sweet briar bush which stood on. the shady side of the Finn shanty hung its blooming cups and longed for therefresh ing dew. Iu all the wide expanse of landscape which could bo seen from the back stoop of the sh&nty, there was no sign of lifo save the drowsy hum of bees, and here and there a butterfly spreading its golden sails in the sunlight. Airs. Finn formed a charming picture as she sat in her husbands arm chair, just inside the kitchen door. It was universally acknowledged that she was the handsom 221' woman on the island. Her complexion was clear, and her cheeks just tinged with ted like the cheek of an ox heart cherry. Now her long black lashes hid the gray bluo eyes, and her strong, well knit hands lay in her lap, which was covered with an apron fresh from the ironing board. Mrs. Finn was tired. Sho lied scrubbed the floor, blackened the stove, washed the dishes, ireued her husband's two flannel shirts, and, lulled by the somnolence in the air, she had dropped asleep. The muscles of her face contracted a3 an in quisitive fly lit upon her cheek, but the buzzing of tho bumble bee, which blun dered in at the door, did not disturb her slumbers. Thero was no kindly spirit to warn the sleeping woman of coming danger. Yet death in a hideous and re volting form was lurking in the grass within 100 feet of the shanty. Just across the dusty road from tho shanty, in the interstices of a stone wall and hidden by the long grass which grew upon either side, there was a rattlesnake's nest. The old he rattlesnake was five feet long, and its body was covered with beau tiful arabesque markings. Many and narrow had been the escapes of this ret> tile from its pursuers. Mike Finn's sow had bitten off two of the snake's rattles when the sow had encountered tho snake one morning before breakfast, and now the reptile's sinister rattle was not as loud as it had been. On this particular morning the snake" had made its way out into tho road and lay in the sand enjoying the heat. Mike Clancy drove lazily along behind his Mike Clancy drove lazily along behind his canal mule. Under tho canvas in tho body of the wagon lay 200 herring, which Mike was peddling out to the housewives of Cooney Island. When the horse reached tho vicinity of tho snake the reptilo raised its ophidian head and hissed. The mule stopped and refused to proceed. Mike did not seo the snake, and so he whipped tho I mule in a cruel manner, but it onlv raised up on its Lind legs and threatened to fall b ick upoil the w£on. - - "God save ye, Alolly; no wondher ye wouldn't go wan whin ve had a dhirty rattler forninst ye. But I'll fix him!" sai'd Miko, jumping from the wagon and throw ing a huge stone at tho snake. The mule turned quickly around and ran down the road at a canter, spilling the herring along the highway. Alike forgot all about tho snake, and started in pursuit, bewailing his luck. "Faix, " said he, "I dunno is snakes or meules th' worst!' In the meantime the rattler had slid across the road and up the green bank into the yard of the Finn shanty. Hero an old hen saw the crawling snake. Cluck ing an alarm to her brood, the hen ruffed the feathers on her neck and called away her brood from the danger. The tamo crow now mado its appear ance, hopping around the corner of tho shanty. Its quick eye espied the rattler. The crow uttered a hoarse, discordant croak- and flew up on the fence. While the saake moved across the yard in pur suit of tho young chickens"the crow fol lowed along the top board of the fence. Several times during the transit the snake raised its head with a warning hiss at the crow, but the bird only cecked its head on ono side and croakad its disapproval of the whole proceedings. Whether it was the smell of the steam rising from the cabbage in the pot upon the stove, or whether it was fear of the crow which caused the snake to crawl oyer the doorstep and into tho shanty, will probably never be known. However, with a sinuous gliding raacion and with glittering eyes the snidte entered the kitchen. Just as it rasrtved in front of Airs. Finn, who was sM9 sound asleep in her chair, a fly lit upon* Mrs. Finn's no®?. With an involuntary movement sho lifted her hand to brush off the insect. Tho snake, evidently regarding the movement as a hostile one, gently shook its rattles, . and, flattening its head, coiled it's body in<f an attitude preparatory to striking. Its head was raised two feet from the floor, and its eyes, shining like black jew els, were fastened upon the sleeping woman. But she was all unconscious of the reptile's nearness. Her hand fell again to its original position in her lap, her face assumed the quiet of repose, and she was again off into dreamland. Tho snake swayed back and forth, was again off into dreamland. Tho snake swayed back and forth, slowly un coiled itself, and resumed its way toward the stove. Just at this timo the crow made its ap earance in tho doorway. I; croaked a arsh protest against the snake's inva sion, and, jumping on tho stove hearth, peered around until it discovered the snake under tho stove. Tho snake lay perfectly quiet upon the oilcloth, the bees hummed in the meadow outside, and the butterflies flashed in the sunlight i ust as they had done before Mrs. Finn iad dropped asleep in lier chair. It will be necessary to tell, in order that the reader may thoroughly appreciate the situation, that Mickey Finn had gone out in the vicinity of tho Devil's lake that morning with his father's dinner pail and his mother's two quart molasses pail in search of raspberries. He was returning up^the Old Point road with tho pads both filled with fruit when ho met hi# friend Jack Doolan Doolan carried with him a five cent firecracker, which had somehow escaped being exploded on the Fourth of July. • Little Mike offered Doolan a small mud turtle about the size of a silver dollar, which he carried in his trousers pocket, in exchange for the cracker, but Doolan refused the offer. "I don't want none o' yer ould mud tur kles," said Doolan; "but if ye'll gi' me wan o' thim pails full o' berries 111 gi' ye th' cracker." Mickey demurred to thi3 proposal, but Doolan dilated on tho wonderful proper ties of the cracker and how it would "blow a tomato can ud a<rin th' skv." and at last the bargain was consummated. The berries were poured out into Doolan's hat, and while he ate them by the handfuls, little Miko examined one end of tho cracker with an old jack knife to see how much powder there was in it. Then ho resumed his homeward wav, wondering how high tho cracker would blow tho tur tle if tho animal were placed on top of the tomato can when tho explosion took place. 'Meanwhile the sun had risen higher to ward tho zenith. The breeze still delayed its coming, aijd tho heated air had drank up tho water in tho brook until there was scarcely enough left to wet the stones. Little Alike was afraid that he would bç censured for tjie lass of Lis berries, and so ho sneaked quietly in the gate and looked in at tho kitchen door before en tering. Ho was delighted to seo that his mother was asleep. Stepping into tho kitchen, his bare feet mado no sound upon tho floor. Putting his pails upon tho table, ho was about to go out into the yard qnd explode his cracker when tho croak of the crow attracted his attention. Looking in the direction of the stove, he saw tbfi Iiçod of the snake projecting be neath the hearth. The sight frightened him and he backed slowly out into the yard. The snake was now slowly gliding toward his mother. IIo was afraid to awaken her for fear that sho might bo bitten. Then an inspiration pajufi tô inm. Said he to himself: "Mnsha, but I'll blow you into smither eens, mo beauty I 1 '* Taking a match from Tils' packet he scratched it upon the fence and applied the flame to tho end of the firecracker's stem. While the powder in the end was spitting out sparks ho went to tho door and rolled tho big firecracker in the direc tion of the snake. The snake saw it com ing, and coiling itself quickly struck its deadlv fangs into tha red jacket A tho cracker. There was a moment of intense suspens > on the part of the boy, but be fore the reptile could withdraw its head an explosion ensued which blew the head less, lifeless body of tho snake across the stove, shook the shanty to its founda tions and startled Airs. Finn so that she fell over backwards in her chair upon tno floor. As she regained her feet, pale and breathless, sho caught a glimpse of her grinning son in tho yard. Grabbing the broom in her hand she started after him, exclaiming as she did so: "Aha, aha! mo laddy buck, so ye're blowin' up the shanty wid yer divilish powdther, are yer? Faix, ye'll think th' Ould B'y himsel' had ye whin I lay hoult o' ye, so ye willl" The bees hummed, the old hen clucked to her brood, tho sun lay hot upon the meadows, and down the"Old Point road ran little Miko pursued by his irate mother.—Evening Sun. fiacer Habits In the Fast, A man who has traveled a good deal said to a reporter the other day: "On ordering cigars at tho club last evening a card was handed me for mv signature. My explanation that to pay cash would be preferrable was accepted. My friend, after lighting his cigar, said: 'You would never get on in the east if you object to signing chits.' Inquiry led me to know that the #ord chit was the common—possibly tl#e pigeon English word for 'check'—I. O. U. or promise to pay—generally. My friend added that no one thing in the eastern civilization was so much remarked by the griffin than this same chit system. Seeing from my dazed expression that the word griffin conveyed no idea, my friend introduced his remarks on chits by saying that a griffin iu the east was the 'tenderfoot'our western cow boy so much delights in chaffing. "The 'chit,' I was given to understand, was tho natural protest in countries where no money save silver dollars ex isted. One naturally could not carry many of them with comfort, and hence the habit of signing one's name with amount of bill whenever a purchase was made. By custom this habit bocamo so extensively—so generally—used that to day you sign the chit for anything and everything—for a glass of beer, turnout for tho day or an extensive purchase of curios. By this time our cigars were fin ished and we had to separate, not, how ever, before I was assured that my friend, who had spent some time in tho east, had plenty of odd experiences to tell of and plenty of queer customs to describe."— New York Telegram. . in<f New York Telegram. The Goats of Paris, That which mast strikes an American on visiting a foreign city is tho pictur esque. which is somewhat lacking with us. I was much attracted by the sight of a herd of goats being driven through tho most crowded streets of tho city. They will go along leisurely, step upon tho sidewalk and choose tho shady side without any one disputing their right to do so. They are accompanièd bv°a lad who, from timo to time, blows a whistle, at whoso sound a number of little child ren come toddling along with a can bowl. At a call the goats approach and are milked right thero on tho street. . , , - -------- The bowls and cans once filled, their diminti tive owners depart with a satisfied glance at their contents, while tho goats tako up their leisurely tread until tho next stoo | ping point. It is my intention to pur chase a number of these goats for ott; Zoological Garden. I shall have them shipped as soon as possible, so let tho lit tlo ones smack their lips, for tbe goaL are coming.—A. E. Burkhardt in Cniciu nati Commercial-Gazette. New and Valuable Antiseptic. Dr. Neudorfer, of Vienna, has found in a substance called "creoline" a valuable antiseptic. It is a sort of tar obtained from bituminous coal by dry distillation It is closely related to creosote, carbolic acid, resorcine and hydrochinon. This substance has been found highlv advan tegeous in preventing the spread of erv sipelas, tho pains of which it also reduces, and it effects an early cure. By its use the subcutaneous injections of* carbolic acid are not required. Ho has also used creolino for tho treatment of ordinär v flesh wounds and for the removal of tumors. A gauzo is prepared, which is clipped in a solution of creoline. Tho doctor considers it tbe most trustworthy convenient and harmless, as well as cheapest, of antiseptic preparations.— Scientific American. No Wholesale Department. Seedy Party (after pouring out a big drink)—How de you sell gin. mister? Bartender (gently returning somo of tho gin to the bottle)—At retail only, my friend.—The Epoch. The hat, tho how ho tur of took to delayed drank was stones. bç and and en his tho upon tho the tho he be backed was that he was door direc com its tho be head head the she tno and her the him, ye're th' hoult the road irate CHILDREN OF THE STREET. deal last mv pay said: if led the to no was this the ex Tlieir Wretched Life In London—An Fnp lisli Journal'» Sharp Comment. It seems likely that if count were made today there would be found in the indus trial schools and reformatorlos of the state, in the homes and refuges of charitable societies and at largo in towns and cities, 200,000 of the class of children who make a living in the streets. Did average mortality prevail among such children, there would be almost 20,000 more, but these are prematurely dead. This is not a small figure, and the lot of those who are still within the control of their parents—for the most part ill living parents—is as much a scandal to the land as it is pitiable ip itself. Jhe majority of street children main tain tlieir parents, partly or îvîiô'Tÿ, as well fis IheElSctTw». M*ny nffly indirectly maintain the father, relieving him of rent and wife keep. His wages he spends on hijjjself. These scarcely ever Suffer more than the hardship of linnatural ana protracted toil. Where both parents havb to be kept there is glmost invariably a wearying repetition of threatenings to keep the tired child at werk, am] blows when tho all da" effort in the streets has failed to bring tlie required money. To his parents such a child is a valuable slave. Before he is fully grown, even while still suffering from child ailments', when tlie stones under his bare feet are frozen, before his young bones are set— all because many people, to their credit be it said, pity an exposed child that Is so frail and young—be Is sent out to wander, to plead, to pester, to got thrust out of the way and crushed by some, to get for his light box the penny for which all tho joy and health of his childhood are being sold. He is a slave of slaves. Over and over again has this state of tilings been denounced by newspapers of all schools of politics, by society papers, by all the papers of the churches—an as sumption running through them all that the law on the matter is what it ought to bo, and that the fault lies with some ad ministrative body. Yet it has never been dealt with, nor even attempted to be dealt with, as a state question. Sixty years ago the English parliament legislated for the protection of the lower animals from cruelty, without either political or money reason, but solel}- out of compassion for animals and regard for their capacity of suffering; but to this day parliament lias not done as much for tbe little human an mal, which is as dependent, as weak and more capable of suffering, though both political and financial reasons can be urged in favor of it. The London Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children has now, after three years of close study of these slave children in their actual daily life, prepared a bill for ilieir relief. Its most important provision is to make it a penal offence to send a child into the streets to beg, either openly or under pretence of singing or playing, or sweeping a crossing or hawk ing; and, in order to make ibis provision effective, it also proposes to punish any one who sen^s a child under 14 to sing or play, or sweep or hawk, in the s. 'eets at night, or a child under 10 by day or night: Parents and guardians dre to be made re sponsible for allowing children to do any of these things. Tho principle of these provisions is the right of dependent children to endurable li' es. Fifty years ago it received its ap plication to small workers in brick fields, mines, factories and chimneys. Advanced at first by wholesome human instinct, it has at length received confirmation of ex perience and has passed into the creed of political science. The political soundness of the principle is settled. It only re mains to make its application extend to tho school, the theatre, the street, the home. Wherever a weak and helpless child may be submitted to tyranny and mado to do what is torture there law must stand up for it and forbid.—Con so . . £ 1V0 Y° u stam ps to the value of the stamp | u P.°n *t. So there is no loss, as many Government Stamped Envelopes. If you have no special "fad" in envel opes, why not use the government stamped envelopes ? They are made of pa per of excellent quality, they are opaque, and you will never have your correspondent notified to send a stamp to pay tho post age on your letter, which you know you stamped, but nevertheless didn't. These envelopes are made in a clear amber, and also white, in the first quality, and cost much less than envelopes sold at a sta tioner's. At all large towns you 'can ob tain them printed to return them either to your post office box or to "-, No. —.-street," and if you fill out tho request blank you will know whether your letter was delivered. Jf your correspondence is large, it will Lo much cheaper for you to hffve your name, post office box, number, or name of street and town printed upon your envel opes, with a return request. " The post office department doesHliis free, only re quiring that 500 envelopes be bought at ono time. I will add ono thing, which I find few people know: If you spoil an envelope in directing, or by blotting it, you can take it (the whole envelope) to your postoffice and your postmaster will think, in using government stamped en velopes.—Horace London in Tho Writer. Festival of the "Glutton Mass." . It is fortunate that soffie rules in rela tion to repletion are no longer observed. Ono which was noticed among the Ilurons and Canadian Algonkins by the early French missionaries, and styled lé festin a manger tout, consisted in tho religious obligation, sometimes attended with loss of life, of the communicants to eat up every particle which was set "before them. A iestival, somewhat of the same nature, was called the "glutton mass," celebrated in England during, if not after, tho reign of Henry IV. A less dangerous, because regulated, term of repletion was preva lent in India, according to a Brahman tra dition, in which tlie invitees, before com mencing tho carouse, bound themselves around the abdomen with a band of straw; and their modified feat was. not to eat indefinitely until all had been de voured, but ouly until the straw bands should burst. Tlaye is no survival of this custom except in tho exaggerated hospitality, generally rustic*, in which the host persists in petitÿms that tho guests should continue to eat, without reference to their apparent wishes. Alcdem eti-' quette shows marked improvement in never suggesting either selection or quan tité' of provender.—Science. A suitor is not alwavs a suit her.