Newspaper Page Text
YOUTHS' DEPARTMENT. LONGING. BT JAMS L'!lS KL V.O-WKLU Or all the myriad m A . . - -That through r -; m'"rt . Which one wml com thronsin?. So Na- e'er ao rtear. m kind, Tlu- tv odM, m lonirins -.Ti; w e lonir for. that we are, ror one transcendent moment ; Before th- PMssbU, poor and bare. Can make it sneering comment. Still, thronen our psltry ntir ami etrife, urowsdown our wiahed Ideal; And lonsin? mold in d-iv what life rve in the marble Koal : T let the new life in we know, I'-'-ire must npc the portal ; Perhaps the lorrjin? to be o Help bmSH th soul immortal. bssstag i God4 fresh heaeuwarchvill, V. ith oar poor earthward striving ; Wm onen-jo It that we mav be still Com jut with merely Bvtag ; B,J?r- onll we leara the heart's full scope, Vhich we ar- hourly wronsjinir. Vgnr Jive imi-t climb from hope to hope And realize our longing. Ah ! let us hope that to our praise CJood Uod not only reckon The moments when we tread Hi way?, Bnt when the pirit beckons; Th.it BOBM slight CaeS ia also wrought Beyond self-satisfaction. Whea we arc dimply good in thought, Howe'er we fait in action. MISCELLANEOUS. "THE DREAM OF MY LIFE." In recounting what I may safely call the dream of my life, I do not propose to speculate on the origin of dreams in gen eral. Whether those mysterious agencies known under the names of mesmerism, odic force, or animal magnetism which are said to ho!d certain temperaments 44 en rapport" with each otter, influencing the , sleeping thoughts and every day act ions of life, h id anything to do with my particular ease, I will not pretend to say; others i ami jul-e, if what happened was attrib- j Utable to such causes, or if it was merely a erica of curious coincidences. All 1 j know is, thai at Lucerne, some years ago, j I dreamed a dream which, heralding as it ; did, die mo-t important epoch in my ca- ( rvt r, ami foreshadowing my subsequent late, I am full j testified in looking upon, :i a mot unmistakable portent, and the ; rein irkabh- circumstances under which it occurred leave it a very open qpeiUoa whether it was the result of mere chance, r whether there are not, indeed, certain unknown and unmeasured influences at ' w ork surely but silently around the web of Bfery humr.n existence. When, at the age of eighteen, I was on 1 the point of commencing a college educa t ion, my fatber died, and to the surprise of every one, instead of leaving me a hand- ; some independence, it was found his assets were next to 44 nil." It was an ordinary; case, supposed affluence proved to have been absolute poverty, a fair position only upheld, until the desperate struggle w -ith over vv helming odds to keep up appear-; anees was put an end to by death. Natur- j hHy, my plans and prospects went with the wreck; I must abandon every scheme j of ambition which I had ever nursed, end I must earn my bread. So, instead of go ing to Oxford, I went into a merchant's i counting-house. I should not perhaps have realized so tangibly this change of fortune, had it not j been accompanied by a misery which, to ' an earnest disposition at the outset of life, is almost overwhelming. I had formed en attachment to the only daughter of the tutor in whose house I was living, whilst being prepared for my Alma Mater. It could scarcely be called an engagement, j inasmuch as, although our parents were not averse to the affair, they yet reason- ' ablv maintained that we were tot young, MM it hid been settled that if, at the ex- 1 piratis-n of five years, we were still both of the same mind, no objection should be J offered to our union. My father quite ap- j proved of ray marrying early. Baying that, a my prospects were good, if I could find giri whom I really loved, it mattered lit- 1 tie whether she had money or not, and the Kev. Hugh Molk tt saw in the alliance all that he could wish for his portionless daughter. Beyomd an occasional visit on j my part, no communication was to be per- ) mttted, and all parties seemed quite satis fied with this arrangement, which had been arrived at just as I was about to Ine e my tutor's house, and when my fa- j ther's sudden death shattered the whole fabric. Many long months elapsed, and still the grief and disappointment, consequent chiefly, as I have hinted, upon the termi nation which was thus put to my love-af- j fair, wen unsubdued. Mollett, who was a sufferer financially by my family troubles, j naturally insisted that the slight inter- : course proposed should be, together with our future plans, entirely cancelled. He argued, reasonably, that my prospects now no longer warranted the contemplation of ! l iirimoiiv ; it was a great question whether I should be able even to keep myself, much less a wife and family. He was deaf to all my appeals and avowals of unswerving fidelity; and gave me no credit for the determination which I declared, if he would only give me the time, of yrt being able in some degree to retrieve my lost fortunes. If he would only, I urged, allow me still to look fbr m ltd to the posse anion of his daughter's ii t r id, I should have a motive for exertion Which nothing else could supply. In a word, I used every argument which my ' sincere affection for Hertha prompte d, and which can be imagined as coming from i lad in the passionate enthusiasm of his first love. After much correspondence, my letters were at last returned unopened. I was wild, mad with my sorrow! I scraped! togethei what little money I aoakl, and, in fit of deeper at kin one norning, shipped in self as a steerage passenger on board a vessel lound for the Antipodes. My re cent employment as merchant's clerk had taken me a great deal amongst the docke: I was continually witnessing the departure of the Australian liners. I had frequently speculated on the prospects; which a new country offered to men of energy and enterprise in my situatiou, and now that the only tie which could make England dear to me was entirely broken. 1 determined to quit her forever, unless I should be able to return and take up t he position to which, from my earliest days, I had been taught to behve I was enti tled. Fortune smiled on all my efforts in the ! new country, not that I ssaecJ ally eonrted fW deserted her favors, For was indifferent as to how matters went with me for along while :ifter leaning London, Yet evt rv tliing I touched literally turned to gold Making my way to the diggings, I became ! a most successful adventurer, eosniag day j after day upon vast quantities of the precious ore, and realizing, in a few j months, more than many hail done in twice the number of years. Like many! things in this world, my indifference as to I whet her I found the gold or not seemed to I be the reason tor my meeting with it every where. My fame as a finder spread, bringing with it its consequent (Lingers and narrow esenpeH, the cniiditv and lawh-s state of society in these regions, obliging every one to defend with his life the re- suits of his industry or good luck. Great gain had really not been my original thonght ingoing up there, but I imagined thai any merely intellectual, or monoton ously routi'.e like existence in a city, would not half so effectually distract uiy j mind from its nettled grief and disappoint ment as the wild and adventurous life I : must necessarily lead in the gold fields. I I found, howeyr, that this was only partial ly the case. I never forgot my sorrow, bnt as my wealth increased, by degrees I eJbsng to that, not with any miserly inten- ! tin, but because it seemed to open the , prospect of my some day returning to England a rich man ; and if I did so, ! might I not still make Bertha Mollett my wife? I could not entirely repress the! latent hope, and yet I dared not indulge in it : nevertheless, it would sometimes assert itself, and indirectly it undoubtedly hail j an influence on my future plana I spent several years as a digger, paying periodical visits to Melbourne, where I turned the nuggets and dust to the best j account. Then I (rreaiv weary of the work and the life, my health was not good, and I finally determined to settle in Melbourne, and, If possible, by judicious commercial speculation, complete the fortune of which I had already laid more than a good foun dation. My old luck did not forsake me, my ventures were everywhere successful j The VOLUME XT. and, at the end of ten years, I was un doubtedly in a better position, financially, than I ever should have been had all my boyish prospects been fiulfilled. During the latter part of my residence in Melbourne, and when I was seriously thinking of returning home, curiously enough I came across an old schoolfellow, who, like myself, had been prepared lor college by Mr. Mollett. He had gone up to Oxford, where, however, having led a wild life, he had come to most unmitigated grief, and, at the time we met, was bound for the diggings. With a beating heart, I could not refrain from making inquiries after the person still dearest to me, and learned, without much surprise, but with an indescribable pang, that she was mar ried. "Yes," said Jack Judder, "she got over it at last, old boy, or at any rate, seemed to do so; Mollett drove her straight at the matrimonial fence, and she was obliged to take it 4 in her stride,' as we might say in the hunting-field. Very likely he called on her, with whip and spur, but anyhow she answered, and came off an easy win ner ; won the 1 Grand Prix 1 in a canter, so to speak." 41 The 4 Grand Prix ' ?" I inquired. 44 Yes," he replied, 44 married the son of a Mossoo fellow Frenchman, I think queer name, can't remember it ! Pombo, or Uombo something of that kind recollect his bringing the young beggar over one day soon after you were gone, and a pretty bad time of it he had, with his confound edly affected foreign ways more like a lanky girl than a lad couldn't speak a word of English ; in fact, had come to learn it, and as Miss Mollett was the only person in the house who spoke French, naturally he fell in love with her desper ately, I believe, and his governor (pots of money, you know made lace or shawls, or hail something to do with silk-worms, I forget which) was caught in the trap which I don't scruple to say old Mollett, miser that he was, was always baiting with his pretty daughter. But she was broken-hearted about you, I verily be lieve, poor child ; never saw I girl harder hit, only married the foreigner out of desperation, net more than three or four years ago." This was J udder's sporting and sportive msanct of telling me the fate of my boy ish love. I could hardly have expected anything else, yet it was a heavy blow, and one from which I did not easily recover. All my good fortune, hard work, and per severance seemed to have gone for nothing, and for a time I was utterly cast down. Accepting the news with outward calm ness, however, I did not even press Judder to try to recall with more certainty the name of the man poor Bertha had married. All my wandering, unsettled habits now returned, and as I no longer had the vaguest object for making more money, I still held to my determination to pome to England : indeed, my arrangements lor that purpose were partially Bande, and winding up my affairs, six months later found me at home again. The sight of the old country made the many memories of former days only more vivid still. The decay which liad passed away since I gnaed on its receding shores, had, as I have shown, entirely failed in obliterating from my mind the one great cause of my departure, and, now that I was back again, I confess that I found it more difficult than,ever to drive away from my thoughts the picture of Bertha as I then knew and loved her. I should not al lude to, nor lay so much stress upon this .state of feelings, but lor one very curious circumstance. I had never ;in my life dreamed of her. Throughout the lonir wretched time of my controversy with her father, and for months and months after I had left Eng land, and w hen I thought of nothing but her and my grief for her loss, 1 never once had a sleeping vision of her, and 'et I would have given worlds for one. I used, foolishly, to try to coax myself to sleep in such a mood as could not fail, I thought, to bring it about; often and often I have prayed to see her and to pass in imagination some few moments of happiness in her presence, even though all that sense of desolation and misery which rushes over the soul that has loved and Buffered as it wakes from its dream of delight and peace, must inevitably have been my lot. All w;is in vain, however; the assoeiat ions, the surroundings of our love were frequently present to me, but in Bertha's absence from the scenes, they seemed to mock my w ishes for a glimpse of her. Now again, after this lapse of years, and under un changed condition, I found myself con tinually dreaming of the old house, of Bertha's father, and of my own old family troubles, but never, under any circum stances, of her. For a long time my mind dwelt constantly upon the peculiarity M this fact, but, by degrees, the remembrance only crossed me at intervals, and I became BS free from the old spell as I was ever likely to be. My wandering, restless disposition, nevertheless, still clung to me, and though established in England, I frequently betook myself to the Continent, and traveling htthef and thither simply lor sinnst mi int. I often passed the whole round of the seasons abroad, lighting upon many locali ties at the most unfashionable periods. It was diirinir one of those trips, late in the autumn, and when nearly every tourist had departed, that I found myself at Luceren. But few visitors lingered at the Schweit zer Hof, although the bright October Weather might reasonably have tempted many to prolong their stay, as I did, by the shores ol this most lovely of the Swiss lakea The jagged peaks of Mount Pilatus for lays and days stood clear out against a cloudless skVj whilst every seam and fur row, pinewood, and silver torrent, were plainly discernible on the BMM of its op posite neighbor, the Right. The lofty chain of the distant Alps, by this time With their snowy garb irrown much more ample, was reflected with marvelous pre cision and beanty on the bosom of the placid inland sea. My enjoyment of the place was so great, that I could do nothing all day but drink in its charms with eyes and heart, and even when night came ou, I used to spend mtny a pleasant hour slowly traversing thr old covered bridge with the wooden piles, getting various combinations of form and effect, as the moon lighted up the scene. The visitors' t ook at the h 1 now rarely received any additional names. Here and there only a Mr. and Mrs. Smith and family jotted down the fact that they were returning from North Italy, and were " so sorry that they had not time to spend more than one night at Lucerene during such very ph as. MtlrW; whilst an occasional Mrs. Jones, . a stray Miss Tompkins or fwo gave r. i rt history of their h Ilday trip, Msrrettlng that they had not come here first, that they might have liad time to explore the very beautiful scenery of the neight orhood,'T or made comment in glowing language on the comforts of the house, ibt civility ol its landlord, and the excellence of its euLsine. I would sometimes amuMe myself in the all C a manger, by glancing through this budget ol dull commonplaces, idiotic sug gestions, and questionable Englishsupplied by my fellow countrymen, interspersed as they were at intervals by the sand covered entries in that little cramped, qucerly twisted hand of the foreigner, which contrasts so quaintly with the large, clearly formed letters, and bold signatured of the Anglo Saxon. Of course, with so few people traveling, every fresh arrival was easily discerned, and often gave mat ter ftir a word or two of jjesip from Fritz, the head-Waiter, who, like the rest of his class abroad, familiar and garrulous, con ceivlng that allthe English and Americans Wire n f 1 1 n 1 1 v intimnte witH um -h nths. .--j a v mwKjmm nvin.l , seemed to expect me to take a personal interest in every new-comer. Plymouth Democrat. Returning from a stroll on the old bridge, the evening preceding the day I had fixed for my departure, I entered the salle-a-manger of the hotel for some re freshment. Theje was no one there, but the book lay open on the table near the ink-stand, as if sor..e entry had JnSl been made. I was about to glance at it, wheu my eye fell on the latest Jl'ssst, which, proving more attractive, prevented my looking to see if any fresh travelers had passed through during the day. Sitting down to the newspaper, I remember clos ing the book, and resting my elbow on it for a considerable period, whilst I dallied with the lar?e quill pen, still wet from its recent use; lor what followed induced me to recall minutely my slightest actions af ter I entered the hotel that evening. Fritz, the waiter, did not serve my meal ; I read till it was very late, and went straight to my room, just as the lights were being extinguished. Now, I suppose that for the last twelve years of my life, Bertha Mollett had never been farther from my mind than she was when I laid my head on the pillow that night. I had not thought of her for months; my brain teemed with specula tions (far enough removed from old asso ciations) which had been aroused by a stirring political article in the Tlsaes. and yet, I take it, I had scarcely closed my eyes five minutes, when I dreamed of her; yes, for the very first time, I saw her in my sleep! 1 knew somehow, instinct ively, that it was she although I could not see her face, for she was sitting with her back towards me, her elbows resting on a table, her head buried in her hands, and her long hair falling in thick masses over her shoulders, entirely hiding the upper part of her figure. Although, of course, I had never seen her with her hair in this state, and al- though, as I say, I could no', even now distinguish her face, I was yet perfectly conscious of who it was. The apartment where she sat, too, was quite familiar to me. It was as if the old schoolroom had been suddenly transplanted to Lucerne, for I could see, instead of our cricket field, the moonlit lake and mountains through the open window, the same vuw, indeed, that there was from the front of the hotel. The furniture, likewise, was changed, and wore a foreign aspect. The floor was car petless and highly polished; the recess for the bookcase was now much 1 irger, and held instead of ponderous tomes, a little French bed, with light muslin curtains festooned above it. It appeared to be occupied, ami I remember striving in vain to see who was lying there. Everything was perfect ly familiar and yet so strange, possessing an that curious combination of the real and unreal which marks such scenes in dreamland; but when at last the sitting figure rose, and turned towards me, it was as if the living woman herself were there! There was nothing uurcal about her! So vivid was the apparition that no doubt could have re- mained as to her identity. Her face, grown ; avoided coining iu contact with either BcT much older, certainly, but as lovely as tha or her father, w ho, almost Immediate ever, was, in its ashy paleness, the very j ly after the funeral, left for Engiand, and picture ot despair and misery; her eyes, nearly a year elapsed before I ventured welling over with tears, looked at me to present myself at the old familiar piteously, as if appealing for help, whilst house. stretching one hand towards me, and j I at first by no means met with a cor pointing with the other to the bed, she j dial recption from Mr. Mollett, w ho new, seemed on the point of speaking ; but the released from all pecuniary iteod by t he next moment she sank back on the chair, wealth inherited by his widowed daughter, and I awoke with a start, and a sensatiou j had given up his old vocation, and was such as I had never experienced betöre. J living in a style very different from that I need hardly say I slept but little more I of former davs. He drew but one conclu- thal night. I lav ruminntinsr till darlieht upon the strangeness of my dream ; strange, under any circumstances, I thought, but doubly so as being the first in which I had ever seen her, and as hav ing happened here, in a spot where there were no associations that could possibly have induced it. It made a great impres sion on me, and it was only after I had had my breakfast, and had come into contact a little with the outer world, that I began to recover my usual equanimity ; yet it so unhinged me that I could not make up my mind to leave Lucerne as I had intended that day. I felt irresistibly chained to the place. After dinner that evening, when the full moon had risen clear of the mountains, but yet not so high as to prevent her bright rays from stealing partially beneath the roof of the old bridge, I lighted my ci gar, and strolled away to my favorite lounge. Here I revelled, as usual, in the quiet and beauty of the hour; not a breath of wind, and scarcely a footstep broke the silence, for your Swiss is early to bed, and there were but few passengers at that time crossing the broad embouchure of the lake, Where it seems to repose in its greatest calm ere it rushes forward to its narrow channel, to lose its identity and name in the sparkling river Reusa I was leaning over the balustrade, about midway across the bridge, and in one of the broadest floods of moonlight, when the sound of the railway whistle announced the arrival of the last train from Zurich. Then I heard through the still air the (im nibus drive away from the station down into the rough-paved streets, but, as the bridge formed a short cut lor km t passen gers to the better part of the town where the Schweitzer Hof stauds, it was not un usual for a few returning travelers to take lids Way. Now I heard echoing on the old wooden planking, hurrying footsteps coming towards me from the direction of the station. By degrees I fancied that these sounds became mingled with voices, in anxious and earnest converse. As they drew nearer, I could distinctly hear the broken English of Fritz reiterating the words, 44 No, sare, no, sare; I tell you he was not dead ; zay only fear, zay only fear!" Then there was some qntstion which I could not catch, and with the talk still go ing on rapidly, the two person i passed in to the flood of light where I was standing. Naturally turning to look at them, the fore most lace instantly caught my eye ; the moon's rays fell straight upon it, and showed me, but very little changed, the stern, hard features of my old Tutor Mol lett. Pondering as I had been over my dream, my mind tilled with little else than the thoughts engendered by it vaguely run ning over those early days, and all their surroundings, the sudden appearance of Bertha's father scarcely at first surprised me as mnch as might have been ex pected; it seemed perfectly natural that he should be at hand I was more than ever, for the moment, back amongst the old scenes, and it was only in the cou.se of a minute or so, after he had passed, that T recovered myself smHciently fully to realize the, to me, extraordinary ein uin stance. Had he dropped from the clouds, I could not then have been more startled. Was it really he, or only a phantom of my own active imagination? I had been unobserved ; so to follow and ascertain, to speak to him, and set all doubt at rest, was my involuntary impulse. A few strides brought me to his side, jfJSt as he descended the steps st the end of the bridge, and emerged into the full light upon the open 44 Place." Time hau dealt less gently with me than it had with him, and he did not recognize me when I spoke, but was passing on with a mere glance, ss he said, "Kxcusema, sir, 1 have not the pleasure of knowing you, and I am in great haste." 44 1 sec it," I replied, "sudl would not venture to intrude under such circum stances, were it not that I cannot refrain from making myself known to you. 1 am not, prompted by mere idle curiosity, look Mr. Molh tt, look again, do you not remember me r" f e were going straight ui the direction of the hotel, and withnt stonnln? he ... rr o ' turned his keen eyes eagerly upon me, and after scrutinizing me again and again, he said M Yes, yes, I seem to know your face, but I cannot at this moment recall PLYMOUTH, INDIANA, THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER who you are, and I am in such anxiety that you must really pardon my forgetting you. My son-in-law is dangerously ill here in this house; I have been summon ed from Zurich, and every moment is of importance if I wish to lind him alive; 1 may even as it is be too late." With this, reaching the entrance to the Schweitzer Hof, where the landlord was waiting to receive him, Mollett passed rap idly up the staircase with the host with out deigning to bestow another word or look upon me. Thus left alone in the hall w ith Fritz (for of course I did not attempt to follow I turned to him with a look of bewildered inuuirv. .Now it so uaDneneo that l nail not seen him the whole of this day, and there fore had not been favored with his usual gossip, otherwise I might possibly have been prepared for the sudden apparition of my old tutor, and so perhaps bare gained a clew as I now did to the mystery of my dream. I say, perhaps; for I will not be tempted to assert that it was anv thing more than a coincidence, however difficult it may be to think-so. "Ah! sare!" instantly began my gar rulous friend, 44 1 have not had time to day. Yes, Yes, you know him I sought vou vould, vou all know each ozer ! and zar has been such sad vork ! before he borne! se poor lady, too, so atstresa his daughter did you see ze book? Nol Ah! Bien, 1 will show you! Madame ue Pomoeras, French name? Yes, but Eng lish writing -no mistake in zat!" And he hurried me into the salle-a-manger, seized the book, Opened it, and put his finger triumphantly down on the last entry, made, as I instantly recognized, in the once familiar handwriting of Bertha Mol lett! It ran simplv 44 .Monsieur and Mad- ! amc Biuos de Fombcras, cn route de Milan a Cans, ( October lyine. As I was gazing at it half bewildered, Fritz continued, 44 Zay arrive last night, ven you vas out, monsieur very ill, go straight to bed madame take some upper at zis table, and vhile she valt, I bring her ze book she ex plain she have great fear for her hus band she vant to get to Zurich, but he vould not be able zen she go to bed and qnlte eariy zis morning monsieur much vorse oblige to have d(ctor he have great fear ze heart ze heart he says must not be moved zen she send me to Zurich to fetch her fazer who vait zcre to meet zem and I just bring him haek ttOW; you khOW him so perhaps too you know his daughter zay all travel togexer, sometimes zay have been here before ze old man look after his money ze money of his VgendreJ vat you call son-in-law. Here Fritz was called away, leaving me to ponder over the remarkable coinci dence, which fate or some mysterious latent force had seemed to bring.about. I need not dwell on what followed. Mon- neur Brnos de Pomberas did that night, I and was buried at Lucerne. I studiously SlOU, Ol ROUrtfO, Irnm 111 v ri-uppLitraiice rn the scene. His selfish instincts evidently shrank from the idea of parting with his daughter again, not so much from the fear of losing her companionship, as from the possibility that through her making I second marriage, he would no longer be able to keep up his present easy and luxu rious mode of life. It was only by very slow degrees that I could make him see that it w as Bertha and not her wealth I coveted; the close and narrow heart of the money-worshipping man, refusing to believe in anything like disinterested affection. When, however, h was finallv convinced that mv own means were ample, and that his worldly position would not be interfered with, by realizing, at last, the dearest wish of mv heart, he placed no obstacle in my way, and I need hardly say, that when due time had elapsed, Hertha had nothing to urge against my suit. Here, then, are the circumstances w hich led to my present happiness! "Were they purely accidental ! Had not the visitors' book, with Bertha's handwriting in it, on which I had been leaning that memorable evening at Liu erne, had not the pen which she had then just been using, and with which I had dallied whilst I read the newspaper, some mysterious influence over me, of which I was unconscious at the time f Had not the fact of my being under the same roof with her, of liaving entered the mile a msngnr the moment after she quitted it nay, even having taken, per- haps, the very chair which she had just vacated, something to do with my dream? And the dream itsell, was it not the re sult of a prevision a seeing, as it were, without eyes, and without presence, what was probably actually taking place in an adjacent chamber f And had I not had this dream, and so have been detained at Lucerne another day, should I ever have married the widow of Monsieur Binos de Pombems I Tue Broadway. The liaccoou. BY .TOSH BILLINGS. The Raccoon iz a resident ov the United Suites ov America ; he emigrated tew this country soon after itsdiskovcry by Colum bus, w ithout a cent, and nothing but hiz claws tew git a living with. He iz one ov them kind ov persons w hoze hide iz worth more than all the rest ov him. He resides among the heavy timber, and cultivates the cornfields and nahring gar den sass for sustenance, and understands big hi.znesfl. Hiz family consists ov a wife and three children, w ho liv with him on the inside ov a tree. He ein alwus be found at home during the day, reddy tew receive calls, but hiz nights are devoted to looking after hiz own affairs. He dresses in soft fur, and hiz tail, winch iz round, haz rings on it. Theze rings are ov the same material that the tail iz, and are worn Upon all oc casions. During the winter he ties himself up into a hard not and lays down by his fire side. When spring opens, he opens, and goes out tew see how the chickens hav wintered. Hi, life is a, free from labor az a new penny, and if it wasn't for the dogs and t lie rest ov mankind, the raccoon would find what everybody else haz lost a heaven upon earth. Bnt the doers tree him and the men skin him, and what there is left ov him ain't worth a cuss. He is uot a natural vagabond like the hedge-hog and the alligator, but luvs to be civilized anil liv among folks ; but he haz one vieo that the smartest missionary on earth kan't redeem, and that iz the art uv stealing. ' He is sockond only, tew the crow in petit larceny, and will steal w hat he kant eat nor hide. He will tip over a barrel ov apple sass iust for the tun ov mauling the sass with his feet, and will pull out the plug ov the j mollassis, not bekause he luvs sugar enny bet tur than he duz young duck, but iist tew see it tue monassis naz got a iXKi daub to it. I hev studdied animal deviltry for eigh teen years, bekatlse the more deviltry in an animal, the more human he iz. I can't find, by searching the passenger list, that Noah had a coon" on board, but I am willing tew bet 10 pound ov mutton BSBSage that mister coon and hiz wife commuted, by stealing a ride. I never knu a raccoon tew want enny- thing long that he could steal quick. Ennybody, who haz ever looked a coon right square in the face, will bet yu a dol lar that he is a dead beat, or under five hundred dollar bonds, not tew go into bizz ness for the next ninety days. I hev had tame coons by the dozzen, they are az eazy tew tame az a child, if yu take thetn young enutf, but I kant advise ennybody to cultivate coons, they want az mutch looking alter az a blind mule on a tow path, and thare ain't enny-moiv profit in them than thariz ina stock dividend on the Erie Rail road. I never wuz out ov a pet animal since I ken remember, till now, but I hev gone out ovthe trade forever ; lately I discovered thai it wuz a good deal like making a whissell out ov a kats tale, ruining a com fortable tale, and reaping a kursid mean whieseL Raccoons liv tow be 05 vearsold, if thev mm Jbi miss the sosiety ov men and dogs snuff, but thare ain't but few ov them die ov old age ; the northwestern fur company are the great undertakers of the coon family. Life for a Song. Fifty years ago the "Divine bontag" stood upon the boards of La Scala. It was a night of wondrous triumph for the Milanese; for long had the buttle raged, and desperate, between the triple operatic powers of Rome, Naples and Milan, the palm of victorv had been awarded to the latter. My professional duties had detained me late "(I was a young, struggling M. D. in Milan at the time), and I entered the thea tre just as the air shook w ith the wondrous applause elided by fcontag's rendering of 44 Ah! non creda, in the Somnambula. I was especially disappointed to have missed the aria to ine, the gem of the entire opera. But who could deem himself ill used, if in time for the Giunge? Bo. men tally thankful that it was no worse, I made my way to my seat one, fortunately, very near the stage; and had tnken it, and was bowing to some English friends seated in the boxes adjacent, ere the wild tumult of applause had ceased to deafen my ears, or the floral tributes to be enthusiastically showered at the lady's feet. One wreath, remarkable for its singular beauty, I remember, composed of some deftly-woven, strange, red exotics, caught my gaze as I turne I toward the stage, in the get of its descent. An instant more, it caugii my hand as well ; for, unintention ally, in the act of turning, hat in band, the latter struck it. thereby swerving it from its original destination, directly into my own grasp. A moment more, I stood the centre of attraction in my immediate sphere, bending forward with what grace I might, offering it to Sontsg. The kindly, gracious smile with which she received it will probably dwell in my memory as long as aught earthly. Verily," its remembrance thrills me With a strange sense of pleasure, even upon a fifty years' recall. The graceful figure, in its slender beau ty, yet bent before me, the crimson wreath lightly resting against her breast, w hen a second one, accurately dropped from above, literally crowned Amina as she stood. It was a deft trick, and one which called forth the delighted appreciation of the au dience. The building absolutely rocked with the vibration caused by the second burst of sudden acclamation. One odd feature of the incident imme diately struck me, namely, that the second wreath on the prima donna's head was an exact duplicate of the blood-red crown up;n her bosom, and which I had pre sented not an instant before. I had scarce ly had time to note this coincidence, and the lady, casting her hurried eyes appre ciatively in my direction, was in the act of bowing a second graceful obeisance to the compliment-wreath, raising it as she did so to her lips w hen the beautiful face paled suddenly, the limbs contracted sharply, and she fell writhing in convul sions, almost in the very foot-lights at my feet. In an hour the mystery was out, and all Milan knew that both wreaths were poi soned ! To this day, the music-mad Mi lanese remember the dreary horror of thai night. A week later, all Europe learned it ; and at this da' it is the property of the world. The facts were these : A jealous rival, distanced alike in love as in fame by the peerless favorite, interpolated the role of the Borgia in the opera. Providen tially, with but partial success. A week Liter, Sontag, perfectly re covered, sang at the San Carlo; and a month had barely lapsed ere the echoes of La Scala again awoke to her divine for givenesss. A sudden case of suicide called me from my bed immediately upon my retirement, the night of the "Floral Murder," as we of Milan dubbed the abortive catastrophe. My patient was a young and beautiful woman a singer one of Milan's favor ites prior to the arrival of the present idol. Its cause, a dual one envy and malice, rooted in maddened jealousy. By a marvelous InfcrnosftioM; death WSS not the immediate result ; my patient lin gered on for hours nay, days three and even four, in number actually passed in life for a woman literally stabbed through the heart ! I had, of course, forbidden the slightest possible excitement. Lile, of course, was utterly hopeless; but life should be saved as long, I determined, as human skill could fan the vital spark. All Milan, pro fessional, was in attendance ; but I, having received the earliest call, was considered the ruling medical authority. It was on the afternoon of the fourth day. and I was hurrying from other calls back into this wondrous patient's room, wdien I was ar rested by such strains of enchanting melo- dy, that with my hand upon the door-knob, in the act of hurrying out, 1 paused to lis ten. M Oh ! It is the glorious Sontag," was my first thought. A friend parsing at the moment (for I lodged in the same hotel with both prima donnas), drawn from his sota like mysrlf into the corridor by the concord of these wondrous sweet sounds, nodded back ap preciation, recognition. u Of course, t is Sontag?" I said. "No; that is the strangest part of it. Slgnorn Sontag is listening with tlte rest, utterly entranced, within the corridor." .What!" lamasedly answered and with the word Sprang into the passag'. Once out there, one glance told me till ; the crowd were gathered around the door of my "lying patient's room, and it was from that door that this world of melody was pouring. In an instant I was In side her about to forcibly prevent the certain death, If possible, but I saw that it was already too hue. A strange smile lit up her wasted face, and the large eyes kindled into an unearthly transient glare of life as they met mine; then pointing, to a liny envelope apon the table beside her, with one loud triumphant burst of inexpressibly sad melody she raised herself suddenly to her full height in bod, stretched forth her arms widely, and with a choking, gurgling rattle of the throat, fell forward upon her face, literally deluged in her own life blood. The note, directed simply to me, con tained these words, in a slender Italian hand . " Doctor, vou say I cannot live, and I know it. My pTayer is tor one more ong in life, and that she may hear it. I pay the price knowingly, and only too willing ly. Life for a single song." She had verily paid it. An examination 2:5, 1869. of the poor girl's effects showed her to have died in extreme poverty. She might have been wealthy in former times; but her recklessness and sad extravagance had long since passed into a proverb among those who knew her best. That evening, while watching in the dim twilight of the room wherein she lay, a tall figure of a woman, shrouded to the temples, glided noiselessly beside me. Without, a word I felt a purse pressed in my hand, and in an instant after the mys tery vanished as noiseless as a shadow into the echoes of the darkened corridor. A slip of paper was twisted about it. on which was written, in tremulous hand writing, simply: 41 In masses, Signor, for her soul." It needed not the further glance given by me in my eagerness into the hurried eyes of the donor as she tendered it. The delicate nobility of the action spoke with its own power akin to the many other noble deeds which graced the life of Hen rietta Sontag. Railroad Traveling in In the recently published Diary of Henry Crabbe Robinson, a literary char acter who died in 17 at the age of 00, there is the following description of the author's first ride over a railroad : 44 (Liverpool). At twelve Igot upon an j be can carry an anvil weighing 700 pounds omnibus and was driven up a steep hill to j a disLance of seven miles without resting, the place where the steam carriages start, i TomTbumb and party posted their per We traveled in the second class of car- formances in San Francisco in Chinese BS riagea. There were five carriages linked well as in English, and took, in two weeks, together, in each of w hich w ere placed $15,000 in gold. open seats for the traveler, four and four facing each other, but all were not full ; and besides, there was a close carriage, and also a machine for luggage. The fare wasialbr the thirty-one miles. Every thing went on so rapidly that I had scarce ly tue power of observation. The road begins at an excavation through rock, and is, to a certain extent, insulated from the adjacent country. It is occasionally placed on bridges, and frequently inter sected by ordinary roads. Xot quite a perfect level is preserved. On setting ort" there isa slight jolt, arising from the chain catching each carriage, but once in motion, we proceed as smoothly as possible. For a minute or two the pace is trentle, and is constantly varying. The machine produces little smoke or steam. First in order is the tall chimney; then the boiler, a barrel-like Vessel; then an oblong reservoir of water: then a vehicle for coals : and then comes, of a length infinitely extendible, the train of carriages. If all the seats had been filled, our train would have carried 180 passengers; but a gentleman assured me si Chester that he went with 1,000 per- so ns to Newton Fair. There must have been two engines then. I have heard since that 2,000 persons and more went to and from the fair that day. But 2,000 only, at three shillings each, would have pro- duced i'OOO. But, after all, the expense is so great mat it is considered uncertain whether the establishment will oltlinately remunerate the proprietors. Yet I have j heard that it already yields the share- . holders a dividend of nine per cent. And bills have pawd for making inflmadl be- twees London and Birmingham and Blr- 1 mingham and Liverpool. What a change will it produce in the mtercoursel One; conveyance will take between one hundred and two hundred passengers, and the journey will be made in a forenoon ! Of j the rapidity of the journey I had better experience on my return; but I may my now that, stoppages included, it mav cer tainly be made at the rate of twenty miles I to hour. I should have observed" before ' that the most remarkable mofemems orj the journey are those in w hich trains pu-s one another. The rapidity is such that there is no recognizing the features of a traveler. On several occasions the noise of the passing engines was like the whin- i zing of a rocket. Guards are stationed in the road, holding flags to give notice to j the drivers when to stop." m i Comets. It is needless to dwell here upon thenu nierous varieties and peculiarities in the icngtiis aim positions ot the tails ol differ- ent comets; it will suffice to say that in a general way the telescopic aspect is that of a quantity 01 vapor escaping irom the nu- j eleus toward the sun, and then carried di rectly behind the comet, as if by a repul sive force emanating from the sun, some- j times for a distance of myriads of leagues, ! thus forming the tail. Hence, in whatever direction the comet is moving, the taiH s turned away from him, the furthest end ; being burred backwards, just as a flexible tod or feather would be if whirled rapidly round one extremity. Now, the srreat dif ficulty lies in conceiving the possible con stitution of a body which can deport it self in the way we have been describing We should imagine that it must sweep away planets in its wild gyrations. We hardly regard it as ridiculous that Whis ton should have gravely maintained that it was by a whisk of one of these tails that the deluge was brought about, and calcu lated the particular comet which caused that catastrophe. However, everything goes to prove that these comets are huge imposters head and tail alike and are the most vapory, windy bodies conceiv able; so much so that it is no exagger ation to say that the tail, with all its millions and billions of miles, might, if properly packed up and stowed away, travel by a continental passenger train, and cost nothing in the way of extra luggage. This has been long known, anu Sir John Herschel sees no dif ficulty iu conceiving that the tail of a great comet, as, for instance, that of 1680, with its twenty-million of leagues, might weigh only a few pounds, or even ounces. This tenuity of constitution is proved in many ways ; partly by the disturbances and de viations caused in a comet's motion by the approach to any other Ixxly ; and partly again, by the fact that stars have been seen to shine with undiminished lustre, alike through their heads and tails stars which would be utterly obscured by I few teetol" ordinary terrestrial mist. Hut, granting any amount of tenuity, it is hard to con ceive such an extended mass whirled half round in two hours, and retaining its con tinuity. Sir John Herschel, therefore, ventured upon a conception involving the total ftlMiencc of matter altogether sug gesting tie hypothesis of a negative shadow ; and an original thinker, specu lating opon the last big comet of 18.) an nounced the discovery in the papers that comets were worlds on fire, most probably suffering the punishment of their wicked ness; and that the light proceeding from the conflagration wns Invisible where the sun's rays penetrated, but was seen in the shadow cast by the head, thus producing the tail an Idea involving, among other absurdities, the naccsnttl of all the planets appearing with black tails behind theiu. ( 'kiii'h r Journal. A Pmvky Conductor. A few days ajroa tight, occumxl on the construction train tli.it ram between Arlington and lumbotdt, n the South l'.ictllc hBllBSik Itic sssHtocSsr turned t lt lour gentlemen who rafbsed to pej Bare. They forcibly entered the ear Hpiyi jutl the train iartoo, ami the conductor, trin- to obedience to onleiv wa? a:.'rtin ej. i Urn; tuotn, nana ISM ujM-rin- tendenl of lbs read, who tuppenedtobeptaituLlo tortured in faror of tbr turbulent deadhead". The Idea of being thwarted in thi way ho nraed the conductor llitt he knocked the sasejislSttdont off the ov, backed the train to the tarflng point ami m m It is estimated that nix million baskets of tomatoes will be used for canning this fall by the canning factories of Phila delphia, (Hunden, Hurlington, Moorestown, Vinelaud, atridgeton and Saloin. Tiikrk sre at the present time in Lon don and its suburbs about niuety Roman Catholic churches and chapels. At the beginning of this century there were only thirteen. o J. FACTS AND FIGURES. A WiitTE Pine doctor deals in coffins. ('OXSTANTIKOI'I.K has t went v-ci irht newspapers, printed in eight different languages. Di kixo n recent hot pell a thermome ter in an Arkansas editorial room showed a temperature of 119 degrees. A normal school for the benefit of na tive ladies and girls is to be opened in Poona, in India. Nokkoi.k, Va., restricts the number of bootblacks in the city to eight, and gives each a district. A Cleveland paper acknowledges the receipt of a bouquet of fresh flowers cut in California. There have bten sixteen cases of sui cide in Lowell, Mass., within eight months, mostly of yonng girls. A defective copy of the 1,883 edition of Shakspeare was sold by auction in Lon don lately, and brought 338. A resident of 1ft Jackson, Va., found a young crocodile several incites in length packed in a barrel of sugar. Tur: .St. Paul Pioneer thinks that not less than 150,000 bushels of apples will be gathered in Minnesota this year. A Cincinnati an has wagered (100 that The Duke of Ossuna, the first noble man of Spain, has so many titles that it takes him more than a quarter of an hour to write his full name. A nEN in "West Wlnsted, Conn., has been sitting for several weeks on seven potatoes, 'which have sprouted and grown above her head. A L-vekpool woman, doubtful whether the fire in her stove was out, poured gun powder oa the embers in order to ascertain the fact. Her doubts and the rest other were removed. It is stated that one guest at Cape May this year, whose party consisted of three persons and w hose accommodations were I WO rooms, paid the hotel 125 a day dur- j ir.s sojourn At a recent coin sale in Philadelphia, a Xcw Jersey cent, 17S7, realized 2"; United States ITHS silver dollar, $ 10 ; United States is4 cent, $1; United States 1799 cent, 5; United States 1797 dime, $12; United States 1S15 dime, si: United States IT'.'o cent, 7. Two Duxburv (Conn.) ladies, descend- i ants of the Winsiow family, possess, among other curious relics, tin wedding shoes of Cotton Mather's grandmother, ; On one of the shoes is pasted the original ' publishment of her marriage, taken from the church door where it was lirst posted. A poisonous bush has proved very de structive to sheep in Australia. It is a pretty shrub about four feet high, with a bright scarlet blossom. The botanical name is gaxtmlobium grand ifloram, and over two BhnSBMBd sheep have been lost out of one flock from eating this bush. Poktlani) claims the championship of the world on old folks. It has over one hundred and fifty inhabitants above seventy-one years of age, and twelve busi ness tirms which have not changed their style for the past quarter of a century. The veritable 44 oldest inhabitant" is also supposed to be a resident of Portland. It is said that, near Cochranton, Ohio, tbo oUaar il.y. a meteor, followed bv a blaze of light, passed by the engineer of a freight train that was stopping, struck u oil car in the rear, and exploded, tearing off portion of the roof, setting fire to the car and destroying it. A brakeman was struck in the face by a fragment of the meteor and severely hurt. One of the most marked illustrations of the change which has taken place In the way in which good men regard certain things, is afforded bv the following - tract from the diarv of the Kev. Samuel j Seabury, of Ledyard, Conn., father of j Ji:shop Seaburv. Ol Connecticut. He I says: 44 The ticket 5,866, in the Light House and Public Lottery, of Hi w Vork, drew in mv favor, bv the ble.ing of Al mighty God, JLoOO, of which I reeeiv d i'4'J.), there being a deduction of 15 per cent. ; for which 1 now record to nay pos terity my thanks and praise to Almighty God, the Giver of all good gilts." BSLOW WS give the grand total of funds raised by the leading national and de nominational societies in this country, for the year ending May 1, 18tlL It is said that the amount is nearly $2,000000 larger than in the year preceding: ssjBjfsjaa iss(r3 na !Mi,-wo'.i in (7 si W.151 44 i !;); :,: 1. Am. Bible Society I. A iu. Tract Society I, Am. Home Mi. Society 4. A. & F. ChriM. Union 5. Am. Colonization Society . Am. S. S. t iiion ". Am. Hap. Mi-.-. Union 8. Am. Bap. Hosse Silas. Society tt. Am. and For. Bible Socictv Ii. Am. Bsp. Pub. Soci. tv '. II. Am. Penaate Guardian Society Ml Am. Besamt Mead Society IS. Am. l ong. Unfcm 14. Pre. Hoard lor MiM. (0. 8.) IV Fres. Board !'or Does. SUM. iO. Si. IS Pres. Board BdaearMM0. B.) IT. Frei. Board Free.lnvu (U. S.) 15. Pres. Board Chr. Bxtan. (O- S.).... lit. Pre. Board PabUcatioa (Ö. s. 94. Free. Com. Hesse Mi-. N. S.V. ... SI. Ptea.Com Publication (N. s. BS. Fre. Cora. Ch. Erection (Tf. S. ... i. Pres. Com. I reedsaesj (X. 8.) it Ain. Board Com. Rar Miss Misc. Soc of M. B. Church . Am. Miss, association 17. Nat. Tetu. Society 2S. Am. ( Ii. Miss. Society i'.t. P. K. Board Doaa. Ifftailons 30. P. K. Board Doaa. MfaatOM 31. F. E. Board Freemen Am. Trac: Society. BOMtoo S3. For. Mi--, t inted Fn s. hnrch- $4. Board for. Mi--. Bet Church 13, Mard Horn. Miss. hVf. ChStCBl :t. Board Bdacation KH. Church 37. Biwird ol Pub. Kel. Church lH.atai:, saunas tsajso c-i ! 50.HKMNI ! Basra v r.j.s-.c. 73 MS-vtliS 00 4n,SSS9S ; Mosoj i Ty MS .V i 55.510 00 nf,.;: :s H2..ts MuSUSSl. !V4 n.vi ini 1. ..'. Hi 74 BBS 95 B7,St8 si 4il M M 1U.4 IS (i t ..tT'.l 1 1 .7 BS 2. Ml IS1,9C7 as 5o.C,-M a 1,90(1 v; Sil ;- .vi flu:.: S3 B8 st; a Total . 4fi.itt.i'J00 Heroism. Albert (i. D reciter is the bridge tendei at the Passaic river drawbridge, on Hi Newark it New York Railroad, (hi Fri dav afternoon, iust orevious to the tim. for a passenger train to reach the bridge, the draw was open. Mr. Divckcr knew that the train was ooming. Ue began to turn tha bridge, so as to sjnsf the draw before its arrival. At this moment he saw his little son, who was only tea years old, and who WSS not far from him, fall from the bridge into the river below. He saw the train coming swiftly toward I he bridge, and knew thai to do his utmost there w;i bard time to close the draw. In the water b low him his boy was struggling for life. A leap into the stream si this moment, and he could save his child. Hut the train csnse thundering down, ami he knew if he left his post for even a single instant, a hun dn d lives might be sacrificed, lie staid. Slowly the bridge was twang lato posJ tion, and the train passed safch over; and none of the passengers knew what their safety bad coal the poor workman who sprang into the rivt r only to take from thence the lifeless bed4 ot his hoy, Is there any story ot heroism to imrrssjl this? Think, if you can, of the tertible alternatives of duty (hat wets pftsented to this man. There was no time to delib erate. His son w as dying. He could easi ly rescue him bv leaping into the river 1, neat li. Hut. tha! hap must have cod main other precious lives perhaps handseda and had he a right to i nperil theev The agony of a lifetime of u tiering must have been pnunsrsased into that moment of doubt. ith sublime and heroic fortitude, this noble father resolved to do his highest duty; and to that duty his son was suri lieed. How many of us would have done the same? New xork Sun. NUMBER Poor Little Joe. Witat a cause for great thankfulness It is to have stroner. active lodies to be able to hop, skip and jump, to go errands, walk to school, and a thousand other things Which happy and healthy children delight to do ! Poor little Joe could do none of these things; he was a cripple, and always looked DA Though a great sufferer, he was nearly always qnilinsr and m9&i4mm pered. There was something so good and so winning about him that everybody liked him. We have said he was a cripple ; yes, so lame and so weak that he never could get up or down stairs alone, and only now and then a few yards about a room or along the pavement When the writer saw him one day, ho was alvnit ten years of age, and as be was growing up be was anxious to learn to write and understand arithmetic. His mother was very fond of him ami very kind to him, as good mothers always are, especially to such children as are so helpless as poor little Joe was. She there fore indulged bis wish to learn by carry ing him to school. Joe soon became a general favorite However rude or rough the other bujl might be to each other, they never once knocked arrainst or hurt him. They would as soon have thought of pushing or hitting a little baby brother or sister as their poor helpless schoolfellow. Joe's mother was soon relieved of the trouble of bringing or fetching her boy. Two boys were regularly seen at her door twice a day, before school-time, to help Joe to school, and two others were always ready to help him home. It was very ph-aing to see the kindness and tenderness of these lads. Sometimes Joe wa9 too ill to come to I school ; at such times two or three of his , schoolfellows w ere found taking it in turn to go and spend part of their play -time I with him, amusing him, or reading to him. One day, it was breaking-up day, the books, slates, etc., were all cleared away, i and the signal was just ready to be given, "All home for the holidays" when th teacher, who liked a bit of fun. brought ; out of his desk two assarts of nuts and bt ' gan to scramble them. After some ten minutes of hot excite ment and hard scrambling, the nuts w ere all picked up. As the boys sbod, soine laughing, some . rubbing their knees or cIIkjws or heads, some counting their nuts, some cracking ami eating them, and some looking rather dull, for they had not got many, all at once the master's eye caught poor Joe's, as I he was sitting patient and smiling in his corner. 44 Oh ! we have forgotten Joe," he said, and was in the act of putting his hand in ; his pocket to find him a penny, when a voice shouted: 44 Let u eaeh give him one 1 nut." Twm no sooner said than done, j Poor little Joe's hands were filled: every I body was pleased. 'Tis nof always that boys are as kind ! and thoughtful as these poor lads were, but it made them happy, and it will make t others happy too, if they try to do good to take care of the weak. Joe did not grow up to be a man. One w inter-time he was taken very ill ; M nursing or sacdicine could save him. He I died and went to Heaven. Hip school -I fellow s missed him very much. His j mother and his sister missed him more, i but thev hardly knew how to cry about it, for they could not help lceling thnnk- ful that JeflM had taken the poor suffering ; child to be with Him, where there is no ' more pain. Children, if you are well, strong, and happy, flkutft God, "who daily lossftefh yon with b; uetits," and don't forget to lie kind and good to the weak and sick, and : lame or Did. To do this is to do what you ' can to be like Him who 44 went about doing i good." 44 Be ye kind one to another, tender i hearted." ILarih arl II ms. m B m m Honesty. One day the Duke of Buccleuth, a Scotch nobleman, bought a cow iu the Betcborbood of Dalkeith, where be lived. The cow was to he M-nt home t lie next morning. K-irly in tSwanesmhsg the Duke was taking I Watt in I very common dr ml i As he went along, he saw a hew trying in vain to drive a cow to his residence. The ! cow was very unruly, sad the poor boy could not get on with her at all. I he boy, not knowing the Duke, bawled out to him in a broad Scotch accent : 44 Aie, man, noma here, an' gie a ban' wf this hsnaL" The Duke went slowly on. not seeming to notice the boy, who still kept calling lor his help. A.t last, findins; he coold not ST" on wltl1 cow, lie erica out in u:- U BR "Come here, inun, an' as sure ony thing I'se fie ye half I get." The Diikc Vent and lent a helping hand. "And now," said the Duke, as they trudged along after the cow, 44 how much do vou think you will get for the job?" t4I dinna ken," said the boy, 44 but I'm sure o' something, for the folks at the big ! house arc guid to a' iMHlii -." As they came to a lane near the turns" ; tha Duke slipped away from the boy and ' entrreil hv a dim-rent wav. t'allimr the jlnstier. he put a sovereign into hih liaud, I saving, Give that to the boy who brought the ! ,,. , J I He then returned to the end of the MM . where he had i:ircd from the bov, as to meet him on his way back. Well, how MBch did you get I aked the Duke. 44 A shilling," said the lxv, 44 and then 's half o' it to ye." But surely vou had more than a shil ling," slid the büke. 44 No," said the hoy. " sum that's a' I got ; and d've no think it plenty?" I (i " ,1.,, Muli,. then must . 4 . j .... -- ---- m ! some iiiiMane ; ami je i uui cmianni with the Duke, if vou will return i iniiiK I'll sret you more.' They went back. The Duke ranc MaS bell and ordered all the servants to K4 a sembled. "Now," said the Duke to the imv, 44 point out the person who gave you tlie shilling." "It was that chap there wi' the apron." slid he, pointin;; to the butlei. The butler fell on his knees. nJBSai his fault, and begged to be lorgiv n ; but the Duke indignantly ordered bun to give the hoy the sovereign and quit his service immcdiatelv. 44 You have lost." said the Duke, 44 your money, your situation, and your character, by your (breit fulness: learn lor I lie future th:tt Ii omsly is the b t policy. The lov now found out himw If who it was that hi lped him to drive the COW . SSSi toe Duke was so pieaseo wit nine manu ness anu nonesty oi tue ixiy tntti ue wh him to school, and provided for him at his own expense. CluUlrtn Friend. MHBfl See the BmU The worthy gentleman who rules the rising generation of aWfU in a certain tow n in Tennessee had occasion, recently, to correct a little boy named Johnny. Now. Johnny had what is called 44 sulks."' because he was whipped, and in order to convince him thai he was justly and neco. sarily punished, his teacher had recourse to the following argument: 44 Well, Johnny, suppose you were rid in? a bis; horse to wster, and had a keen sw itch in your hand, and all at once the horse were to stop and refuse to go fur ther, what would you do Johnny stifled up bin sobs for a moment and looking up through hi- tears. imi ccnllv r( plied : I'd cluck to him. Sit ' "But Johnny, nuppose he would nt go for your clucking, what then?" 44 I'd get down and lead him. Sir 'And what if he re ilbsllasls, ami wouldn't let you lead him v" Why, Td take ofl his bridle and turn him loose, and walk home, Hir." M Vou may go snd take your scst. John nv." Johnnv could not be made to see the necessity for using the switch A drunken mother In Öt. Louis threw her baby out of the window the other dav, and an old woman, passing, caught it in her apron.