Newspaper Page Text
NEW ORLEANS, 1885.
BY ELLA WHEELER WILCOX. _ queen of Indolence and idle grace, ML. Robed in the remnants of a costly gown, She turns the languor ot her lovely face Upon Progression, with a lazy frown. QSer throne is built upon a marshy down, .Malarial mosses wreathe her, lik-e old lace, rWith thin, crossed, feet, unshod, and bare and brown. She sits indifferent to the world's swift race. cross the seas there stalks an ogre grim, Too listless, she, for even Fear’s alarms. While frightened nations rally in defense, l@he lifts her smiling Creole eyes to him. And reaching out. her shapely, unwashed arms, She clasps her rightful lover—Pestilence. Doisrocims. - many. (From Chambers’s Journal.) • > In England, indeed throughout tho United kingdom, schools of cookery are gradually be coming a recognized national institution. Ad mirably conducted they are too; there is noth -§ng bf the “young-ladyism ” principle about 4hem, for the ’teaching combines the kitchen faaaid 0 with the cook’s dudes. The students dmust learn not only how to arrange the con sents of a pan, but also how to clean it after- Y rward; howto prepare the fire, cleanse the flu©, wlacklead and polish the range; even to scrub ;the floor. If their position is above the need of /making’these as daily duties, the knowledge kfits them for directing others, and thus pre senting those domestic troubles, in the form of swastehjlness of time and means, that too often tnar fife hope-peace of young housekeepers. In some of ilibse schools efforts are made to add lessons in dressmaking and getting up fine liinen. As 'yet, however, this is only tentative. Still it shows that the spirit of educational en ergy is rousing the middle classes to raise even cares ” to the dignity of an art. ® : ’ But Witfi us, domestic instruction is confined Jfco lectures and class-lessons given in courses for specified charges. We have no organized system of domestic education, such as exists in ? jjermany. Even there, domestic schools are &e comparatively recent introduction of private They are increasing in number and influence, and may ultimately, as most things do there, meet with the paternal atten tions of the government, and be expanded into Jjubli? institutions. So lar, they are on a simple, -even homely scale. One at Freiburg, ill Badon, is conducted by a lady who started it on her own resources of spirited energy. Suddenly deprived by adverse fortune of a leading social position, she resolved to utilize those talents Which hitherto bad been exercised only in the tevay of general household superintendence. Her reputation as a Hausfrau and for having the deftest fingers for needlework, had made her lady-friends regard her as a domestic authority. Acting on this, she decided on organizing a modelled on one then acquiring repute «n Berlin. Her only shortcoming was dress snaking, as taught on scientific principles, of /cutting out and blackboard drawing. With patient courage, she went to a large city, and itbere placed herself for some months under the taecessary tuition, so that when her undertaking iwas fairly started, site was competent to fulfil ftU its responsib lilies. ► Oh one point, domestic schools differ from all Other educational est&bhishments—they are in tended only for grown-up young ladies. ' jMadame Kuenzer, at Freiburg, receives no pupil under fifteen to sixteen y ears of age, when school- ’ books are closed, and’ a knowledge of home practical duties is required. Where it is de sired to pursue accomplishments, arrangements are made for lessons in music, drawing, lan guages, &c. But these lie outside of the school techeme, which aims only at the prosaic utilities bf domestic life, which,*in tact, for the moment fthuts out the drawing-room and embraces the -Regions of the kitchen, the laundry, the work hf jroom, and general household departments. IT ; Germany’s reputation for Hausfraus has hith erto been too easily gained on the strength of the custom for its young girls, especially ou the pve of marriage, to put themselves for a few weeks under the chef at a hotel, or one holding > teway in the kitchen of some great house. At Freiburg, for instance, the cAef at the bishop’s palace is often called on to direct young ladies’ White hands in the making of pastry or stirring of Fauces. At the domestic schools, however, such mere fancy lessons are distinctly refused. Against them Madame Kuenzer at once set her face, accepting only those pupils who wish to be thoroughly initiated in the whole course of do- Imestic training, for which she considers twelve months not too long an apprenticeship. To ee eure»this, her pupils must board and lodge with - her in a simple, homely, family-life sort of way. fastidiousness might consider this way as primitively rough und ready, unless insular * motions have been blunted by much brushing jup against Continental habits. To preserve the jhome character, Madame Kuenzer limits her school to ten or twelve pupils. A lady assists lhe'r to superintend the arrangements; servants jare there as solid aids; the house is pleasantly its young inmates are busy as bee’s kinder their active directress, whose gracious manners and vivacity betray the partly French t prigin of her characteristics’. In the early mornings, at the quaint Market ,JlTace. one may meet Madame Kuenzer and two or three of her young pupils. They are busy pricing and buying the day's needs; the girls learning how to choose provisions, to modify ■extortionate market charges, and to keep a wary «ye on just scale-weights. The girls left at |bome are occupied with room-cleaning, tidying, -dusting, bed-making, etc. Some are told off to srim the lamps—a necessary duty in a foreign .gasless house—or restore* table and pantry K order after the breakfast debris, for the pre parations of which meal several had previously assisted. On the return of tho ‘ marketers? those whose turn it is flock into the kitchen. ’This is large and light; in the centre rs the cook- Sng-stove, open all round, and admitting four ‘young cooks at a time—a veritable multum in yarvo of hot and cold water arrangements, and sitensil and implement compartments. Here -the cooking lesson is given —getting ready the coup, a process in Germany of the most coin- F plicated nature; preparing the meat; washing, cleaning, cutting the vegetables; measuring and mixing spices and condiments; making and Trolling the pastry; seeing after and stirring the sauces—lor every dish at every course has a sauce, and that a different one—attending to Che progress of the various pans on the fires in Cheir boiling or simmering duties—the laborious operation of preparing a German dinner ending £n results much appreciated by those who practically test it. German cooking doos not terminate with a meal. There are endless adjuncts that have to be prepared and kept ready. An English cook considers herself rather exemplary if she takes care of “stock;” she often, too, seeks to enforce her general reputation by filling the house with nauseous odors from the “rendering of fat.” ■With a German cook tho first is just a part of her daily routine, while in the latter respect she far surpasses her British sister by doing it on a more magnificent scale. Forinstance: She pro cures five or six pounds of raw mutton fat; af ter carefully paring, trimming, and cutting it Unto about half-pound pieces, she puts it into a pan on a slow fire. In another pan she puts the same number of pounds of pork fat, similarly prepared. After tome hours’ simmering the | contents of the pans become perfectly liquid, and are then mixed together. Five or’ six of butter, previously heated into posi tive oil, are stirred into them. The whole is then clarified, poured into a stone jar, left to cool, and serves for some months as cooking butter. Then, also, a good Hausfrau has the coffee roasted at home. If, in the’cooking but ter operation, open windows have to ba resorted to, in the coffee roasting open out-doors have to 1 be added. Even then one longs for “all the perfumes of Arabia” to relieve olfactory suffer ings. Some of the cooking stock in trade, however, | is of a more acceptable nature. There are 8 the odd cuttings of bread, which are care f fully kept until well hardened; they are then I buttered over and left a long time in I ' pan in the oven, then pestled and r onrfnr q mto dust and kept in reserve for fry- Ing fish, cutlets, &c. Sour cream, too, is care luuy Bturod, as, mixed with yolk of eggs, it plays a large part in soups, Ac. Then there are pickling and preserving, which are the very coat of arms of German storeroom dignity, and ftll, sorts of other preparations that must be p kept ready for need. Beside all these extraneous duties, there is the keeping in order of the numerous cooking ntensils. The Germans have certainly a won derfully inventive faculty lor kitchen vessels ?nd implements, the use of which, until the re k cent introduction by the schools of cookery of A* many of them, would have bewildered English housekeepers, but which in Germany are as in- B valuable as they are ingenious. To keep them B in spotless condition is one of the lessons Mad ame Kuenzer’s young pupils have to learn, as also to understand the methodical system of the i cleaning, polishing, &c., of the kitchen and all I its fixtures. | A more important lesson still is impressed on I them—never to waste a fragment that can be L utilized for present or after purposes. It is this r kitchen economy in foreign households which l <j. snarks so great a contrast- with English waste fulness. It is to be hoped that our schools of cookery will reform all that. While Madame Kuenzer’s kitchen is full of bustle, the work-room, though quieter, is not | less a scene of industry. large room with four .windows, a centre-table where “cutting out” is practiced, a blackboard whereon part of a dress is sketched lor a pupil to copy by math ematical measurement, before venturing to inis ■ manage material. The young girls are scattered about the room, at the windows or elsewhere some at dressmaking, some at plain sewing’ some learning to mend stockings with the knit ting-stitch, which, when well done, shakes credi bility as to a previous hole. There is no need to teach actual knitting, for, as Spartan ba -1 Lies used to get spears as playthings, Ger man baby-girls get knitting-needles as toys, and have their stockings ready by the 'time they, can walk. At least, so jesters sav— . a. still more incorrigible one declaring that, ■ the last trumpet-call, German women V ai l ! ® 9 placidly, stocking-knitting all the time. Madame Kuenzer’s pupils, however, do linnt themselves to stockings. Endless are the knitted articles they turn out, both of a use ful and ornamental nature. Then there is a S frame, curiously nail-tacked out in design, at which one of the girls is sitting, and really fab ricates a shawl. Another is occupied in mak ing beaded lace. A third is busy refashioning an old dress, and repiecing parts in away to defy the cavils of the microscopic eye. INew bonnets are being trimmed, or old ones remod ernized; or there is an umbrella getting recov ered; or fancy shoes being renovated; or per sonal or household linen being darned in a way—it of damask material, the design is per fectly preserved—to defy the most critical scru tiny. In short, it would be difficult to a comprehensive view of the varieties of needle work practiced in that busy room. On laundry-days there is a great activity. For the washing of the heavy things, special laun dresses are engaged. Still, tlie young girls look on and learn, while giving a helping hand. When ironing and clear-starching time arrives, the girls stand to the fore and receive regular working instructions. With the ordinary teach ing of “getting up ” linen, laces, muslins, etc., there is combined the secret ot “ cleaning ” stuff or silk dresses, carpets, colered curtains and tablecloths, so as to restore to them a pris tine freshness. Wishing to prove to her friends that she had not mistaken her vocation, Madame Kuenzer arranged a sort of exhibition of the varied la bors of her pupils, and invited Freiburg “ So ciety ” to come to it. The result was a chorus of wonder and praise, of which the girls re ceived their due meed, while the largest share was given to the brave-hearted woman who had so boldly entered a new field, and now proved her success was deserved. Madame Kuenzer, believing that all work and no play dulls girls as well as boys, provides va rious means of relaxation. She has her box at the theatre, to which those of her pupils who choose may join in the subscription, so as to take it in turn to accompany her. As this only amounts to eighteenth <?e per porformancoj there is no tendency to extravagance; and as the theatre opens at six o’clock and closes at nine, there is not much fear of encouraging dis sipation. Neither is there toilet outlay, for a pair of gloves added to the home dress, with a shawl for the’shoulders and a hood for the head as protection while quietly walking to and fro, are all that a lady deems necessary for tho enjoyment of the always excellent performances at the theatre. In snowy Winters, when King Frost makes it hard and glistening, Madame Kuenzer takes her pupils ou a sleigh picnic into the wonderful Black Forest, that almost incloses Freiburg in its mystical grandeur. In the Summer-time, many are the delightful excursions that relax the labors of her busy young bees, who are thus led to think that a thorough training in tho practical duties of life is worthy of acquisition in itself, and rendered none the less beneficial when brightened by such judicious recreations. Is a domestic school so conducted, possible iff this country ? As a boarding-school it would be scarcely possible. But might not the pres ent cookery schools be expanded into further branches of practical life ? If the teaching were put within the means of “small tradesmen’s” daughters—from which class Madame Kuenzer mostly recruits; her pupils—the undertaking could not but be a success. BATTLE OF FAIToAKS. A REMINISCENCE OF THE WAR FOR THE UNION. (From the Washington Republican.) After the long and harassing siege of York town, and the wearisome march up the penin sula to Richmond, the brigade (General James L. Kemper’s) to which the writer’s regiment (Seventeenth Virginia Infantry) was attached, had been enjoying a much needed rest, even company drills having been for the time discon tinued. On the evening of May 30th, 1862, we were camped in tents on the Richmond fair grounds, which is a level plain of considerable extent. When we lay down to sleep that night the weather was clear, though very sultry. Soon afterward a thunderstorm came sweeping along and we were subjected to a regular cloud-burst. The rain came down for hours, not in drops or sheets, but literally by the bucketful, and soon the entire camp was afloat. All we could do was to hastily pack up our blankets and traps and stand in half a foot of water and wait pa tiently for the waters to subside. Not long alter midnight the adjutant came around with the or der to pack our knapsacks (which we had done already) and pile them, leave tent standing, and be ready to move at a moment’s warning in light marching order. We knew very well what this order meant, for the sudden rise of the Chickahominy after a big rain was well-known to us, and we knew also that the army of General McClellan was divided by the treacherous stream. Under the circum stances we were glad ot our thorough soaking. By daybreak we were on our way down the Wil liamsburgh road in the direction of the enemy. The front line of General McClellan's left wing was only some six or seven miles from Rich mond, and we could have gotten over this dis tance in two hours with ease, in spite of the fact that the road was covered with pools of water; but we‘were halted at every mile or so with a long wait, and it was nearly noon before we got within view of the enemy’s pickets. You may be sure there was much comment excited by the unaccountable slowness of the movement—the American soldier was very apt to criticise the strategy of his generals. Growls went along the lino : “ The Chickahominy will go down as fast as it has risen, and they can lord it even if tho bridges are swept away.” “What in the hell are we waiting for,” etc. General D. H. Hill’s division was ahead of us on the road, and it was some time after 12 M. before bis skirmishers began to exchange shots with the hostile pickets. I have never been able to understand why the onset was not made at 9 or 10 o’clock at tho latest, for on our side the battle was mainly fought by the infantry, so that the difficulty of bringing up the artillery could not have been the cause of the delay. It is true that General Huger did not get up with his division until late in the evening, although ho did not have to march further than we did; but then we had sufficient force for tho job then apparently on hand without him. When, however, Hill had once begun to fight, he did not let the grass grow under his feet, as it were. His onset was impetuous and deter mined, and tho tremendous crashes of musket ry, the charging yells, and the booming of Ca sey’s cannon showed to us in the rear that hot work was in progress in front. After the battle was begun Kemper’s brigade was drawn up in line of battle, in reserve, on the extreme right of the right wing, the brigade having suffered heavily at the stiffly-fought battle of Williams burg some weeks previously. We stacked arms and listened to the continuous roar of the battle until about an hour before sundown. That was the brigade’s first experience in the rear of a battle, and it was a very unpleasant one. Streams of wounded men in ambulances, on stretchers, or bloody, dirty, and grimy, painful ly hobbling along, came constantly pouring back from the front, and the sight was a douse of cold water, so to speak, upon our enthusiasm. Moreover, I think all soldiers will agree with me that the suspense, when expecting ev ery moment to be called into battle, is more wearing upon the nerves than to be in the com bat. At last one of Longstreet’s aids came gal loping toward us, and our colonel remarked, “Now comes our turn,” and at once called us to attention. The brigade was at once put in columns of fours and headed down the Wil liamburg road at the double quick, for we were told the enemy had been heavily reinforced and Hill’s men were giving back. The mud was a perfect loblolly, and knee deep, and double quicking was hard work. When the brigade emerged from the woods into the large open field in front of the redoubt and rifle pits thrown up by General Casey, the head of the column was assailed by a storm of shot, shell, and bul lets from the Federal lines, which were estab lished in a belt of woods about 200 yards beyond the redoubt. Kemper led the regiments on in columns of fours until we got right up to the re doubt before he gave the order to throw us into line of battle. Now, fifty yards beyond the redoubt was a house, to the right a short distance a barn, and to the left a huge pile of wood teu leet high and fifty yards long. Beyond these were the little dog tents, pitched helter-skelter by Casey’s di vision. Up to this time wo had had no help from our artillery, the Fauquier battery, which accompanied us, being stuck in the mud, with half its horses killed and the men unable to bring the guns to bear. When the head of the column reached the redoubt, and we had seri ous losses while crossing the field from the raking shots, the order was at last given to for ward into line and charge, but this was easier said than done, especially as far aa the Seven teenth Regiment was concerned. We were rushed into line as well as the obstacles above referred to, which were in our immediate front, would permit, and then dashed in among the dog tents. Here it was worse and worse, for we could neither jump over them nor tear them down, except with frightful loss, and as it was we lost heavily in a few minutes. Kemper led the brigade on foot as gamely as a man could do, but his dispositions were faulty, and finally he yelled, “Give back, mon, to the wood-pile and the rifle-pits 1” and we did so without stand ing on the order of our going, but we left many a bravo fellow behind us. Once behind the rifle-pits we had our innings, for the men of the Fauquier battery had managed to get two of their twenty-pounder howitzers in position be hind us, and they poured shrapnel and canister into the hornet’s nest in the woods at a lively rate, to which we added our quota in the infan try way. At the beginning of the fight Kemper had sent the Seventh Virginia Infantry to make a detour behind the woods and fall upon the enemy’s left flank and rear, and Colonel Florence executed the movement with success, for at this juncture —it was twilight nearly—we heard the crash of his volley on our right front, and we jumped over the breastworks to go forward to help him, it was found that tho troops who had worried us so badly had gone back through the woods in disorder. That ended the fight ing for that day, and it was a sorrowful day, for I lost my friend and blanket partner. When going into the fight he said to me, “ Ono of us will go under—l feel it.” On searching, I found him among the dog tents, still living and conscious, but horribly wounded. Both his arms were broken, two balls had passed directly through his body, and he had a flesh wound in the thigh, and vet he lived until about midnight. His was the most remarkable case of vital endurance that | ever came under my notice during the war. The brigade made a capture that day, which was some little solace for onr loss. The barn referred to was literally crammed with sutler’s supplies. Barrels of brandies, whiskies, wines, Ijo .es of crackers, cheeses and canned goods NEW YORK DISPATCH. MARCH 29, 1885- and groceries were there sufficient to supply all. It was some time before the commanding officers found out the existence of this treasure trove, for the com;:any officers wore as zealous in sampling the delicacies as the men, and when at last a guard was placed over the de loctables, or what remained of them, the ma jority of the brigade were half-seas over, and with canteens and haversacks filled beside. The troops slept peacefully that night, but there were many swelled heads and aching brows in the morning. The sun had scarcely peeped above the horizon next day when firing was renewed on our loft, where |General! Gus Smith was in command, and as the battle rolled toward our position the shells began to explode around and over the brigade line very uncom fortably. However, Huger’s meli were now or dered up to the front, and Kemper was directed to hold the redoubt and rifle pits at all hazards, in case the front lino was forced back, as it was thought that the entire Federal army was now across the river. While we lay here, General “Jeb” Stuart rode out in front of the line, in open view of the enemy’s batteries, and ap peared purposely to make a target of himself. While the shells were popping around him he kept his horse plunging and curvetting, fihd, waving his hat, seemed to enjoy the fun hugely. But, as one of the soldiers remarked, “Some body out to go out and hit him with a stuffed club, for makihg such a fool of himself.” The brigade of Kemper needed no such encourage ment to do their duty. Well, the battle of the second day was a tame affair compared with the savageness of Chat of the day before, and about noon both sides seemed to have got enough of it, and npiso of the battle gradually died atvay. The Confederates had failed to smash the Federal left wing, and had lost heavily, General Johnston having been severely wound ed, but they had not been whipped, and they held ground until after nightfall, when they quietly withdrew to their own lines, taking twenty pieces of captured artillery with them. BILL ABB oFfaRMING. A Place for Freedom, Latitude and a High Grade of Happiness. (From the Atlanta Constitution.) It’s a wonder to me that everybody don’t.go to farming. Lawyers and doctors have to sit about town and play checkers, and talk politics and wait for somebody to quarrel or fight, or get sick; clerks and bookkeepers figure and multiply, and count until they get to counting stars, and the flies on the ceiling, and the peas in tho dish, and the flowers on the papering; the jeweler sits by his window all the year round, working on little wheels, and the me chanic strikes the same kind of a lick every day. Those people do not belong to themselves; they are all penned up like convicts in a chain gang; they can’t take a day nor an hour lor recreation, for they are the servants ol their employers. There is no profession that gives a man such freedom, such latitude, and such a variety of employment as farming. There’s no monotony upon the farm. There’s something new every day, and the changing work brings into action every muscle in the hu man frame. We plow and hoe, and harrow and sow, and gather it in at harvest time. We look after the horses and cows, the pigs and sows, and the rams and the lambs, and the chickens and the turkeys, and geese. We cut our own wood, and raise our own bread and meat, and don’t have to be stingy of it like city folks. A friend, who visited us not long ago, wrote back from the town that his grate don’t seem bigger than the crown of his hat since he sat by our great big friendly fire-place. ■ I may be mistaken, but it seems to me a lit tle higher grade of happiness to look out upon the green fields of wheat and the leafing trees and blue mountains in the distance, and hear the dove cooing to her mate, and the whippor will sing a welcome to the night, and hunt flowers and bubby blossoms with the children, and make whistles for ’em and hear ’em blow, and see ’em get after a jumpin’ frog or a garter snake, and hunt hens’ bests and paddle in the branch and get dirty and wet all over, and watch their penitent and subdued expression when they go home, as Mrs. Arp looks at ’em with amusement and exclaims: “Mercy on me; did ever a poor mother have such a set 1 Will I ever get done making clothes? Put these on right clean this morning, and not another clean rag in the house 1 Go get me a switch, right straight, go ! I will not stand it!” But she will stand it, and they know it—especially if I re mark. “Yes, they ought to be whipped.” That saves ’em, and by the time tho switch comes tho tempest is over, and some dry clothes are found, and if there is any cake.in the house they get it. Blessed mother I fortunate chil dren 1 What would they do without her ? Why her very scolding is music in their tender ears. I’m thankful that there are some things that corner in the domestic circle that Wall street cannot buy nor money kings depress. WORK OF THE PARIS POLICE. Tho Late Prefect Tells How Every Class of Society is Watched. The secret agents of police in Paris are pro vided with cards, which, in cases of danger, will insure them the protection of the regular police. They frequent clubs and other meet ings, the wine shops of the exterior boulevards, and houses and streets of ill-fame, and also at tend at the senate and chamber of deputies during the Parliamentary session. In the morn ing they prepare their reports, generally speak ing, at the prefecture, in the,archives of which is to be found detailed accounts of the career and character of hundreds and thousands of individuals in France. These records form colossal pyramids in the lumber-rooms, and are alphabetically arranged according to the names of the persons whose histories they chronicle, so that when any one comes suddenly to the front, or is compromised in any criminal affair, the librarians can have no difficulty in laying their hands on the official summary of his or her antecedents. So complete is the collection that the name of the most obscure rag-picker in Paris has its chroncle as well as the President of the republic. In regard to these secret agents of the second category, M. Andrieux is as explicit as he is indiscreet. “ A man’s coachman,” ho says, “ a man’s mistress, a man’s barber, a man’s valet may belong to this battalion.” Many saloon-keepers and house-porters are actually compelled, under pain of forfeiture of their licenses and positions, to act as the sines of the prefecture. Several journalists, who are the bitterest poli tical opponents in opposition newspapers of the powers that be, and not a few frantic orators who “do ” the stump at Socialistic gatherings and denounce the criminality of capital amid the cheers of tho workingmen, are in the pay of the police authorities. The high-born and re spectable Imperialist, who mixes in Prince Na poleon's society and calls him “My Lord,” “Your Majesty,” and sports a violet in his but ton-hole on tho occasion of tho anniversary mass for the repose of the soul of Napoleon 111. at the Church ot St. Augustine, keeps up his gorgeous equipages and pays for his Bonapartist dinner out of the public funds. The simpering royalist who carries about with him over his heart a tattered fragment ot one of the old white flags of France, and who is gushingly tender and enthusiastic in his de fense of the throne and altar, is “ rigged out ” at the expense of the state, and is paid to spy on the movements and actions of the loyalists, just as his Bonapartist colleagues to look alter the Imperialists. Each of these agents must have some ostensi ble trade or profession at which he may occa sionally employ an hour or two ot his time in order to avert any suspicion that may be enter tained of him. Thus every class of society in Paris is under the most active, although the most insidious, vigilance. THE SCUDBERRY -CASE. WHAT LED TO A DIVORCE SUIT. (From the San Francisco Post.) It Bsems that Dr. Scudberry, of the United States Navy, was married about three years ago to a lovely young Oakland girl, to whom he had been engagedjlor a long time. Shortly after, he was ordered to join the Asiatio Squadron, and only returned to his bride a few days ago. Dur ing his absence his wife determined to employ her time in the study of medicine, which she hoped would prove a delightful surprise to her husband on his return. Unfortunately, she en tered a homeopathic college, her worser half being of the allopathic persuasion. The doctor was on his way home irom the train, upon its arrival, when he saw a crowd around a drug store and was informed that a man had just fallen down in an epileptic fit. Forgetting his eagerness at the call of humanity, the doctor rushed into the store, where he was astounded to behold his wile engaged in consulting the pa tient’s pulse. “ What does this mean ?” exclaimed the aston ished surgeon. “ Why, I have a surprise for you, darling,” said Mrs. Scudberry. “You see, lam a regu larly qualified homeopathic physician.” “ Homeopathic ?” sneered ' the astonished husband. “ Yes, get,” said Mrs. S., sweetly, as she got out her pilules; “ this dosing people with buek ets-full of slop is getting out of date, precious.” “ And so you have been actually roped in by that gang of pellet-peddling ignoramuses, have you ?” “Don't be rude, my dear,” said the female practitioner. “You can’t expect to keep up with the march of science in Asia. Just stand back, and let me save the patient.” “ Save fiddlesticks I” snapped the allopath. “ Woman, go home and cease trifling with hu man life—or perhaps you had better mix a mus tard plaster while I resuscitate the subject.” “ Why don’t you two quit fighting anil go to work?” asked the victim’s wile, who had just decided that she wouldn’t look well in black. “ When ■ this female person is removed I shall proceed in the regular way,” said Dr. 8., stiffly. “ I will n ot be answerable for the consequences unless that old fogy withdraws !” rejoined Doc tress 8., haughtily. “ You’re a quack!” roared the husband. “ You’re a butcher !” screamed his wife. And in this style they went on until somebody announced that the patient had picked himself up and walked off, he being tho only person who escaped, as tho police arrested the whole crowd for creating a disturbance. The divorce case of Scudborry vs. Soudberrv is set for the Fall term. SYLVIA’S FEALTY. A POLITICAL LOVE STORY. BY JASMINE. (From the Oakland (Cal,) Tattler.) “Do you know,” said Sylvia, with a restless movement ot her pretty peacock-lan, “I am really unhappy this morning.” Webster Arbuthnot leaned over with a look of such obvious devotion that a third party, if there had been any such a disagreeable person present, could not possibly have doubted his hopeless infatuation. “ Tell mo all about it,” ho said, possessing himself of the hand nearest him. “What is it that troubles my darling?” Sylvia’s sunny head drooped on his shoulder. “Papa is going to run for Congress,” aha said, disconsolately; but was quite unmindful of the start her lover gave. •’ We always havo such a disagreeable timg when pa t* running for an offige, Wo have to conciliate the lower classes, you know. Wo always have receptions, and I have to shake hands with such horrid men. Why, when papa was running for City Controller, I sat for a whole hour on the sofa with a blacksmith, and I drank champagne with a’ll sorts of queer people—carpenters and tinkers, and—and what.do you call those men who shovel coal ? Coal-drivers I No ” “ I hope you did not despise these men be cause of their occupation,” exclaimed Webster, a little bit shocked at such labguage. “ Oh, dear no. They were papa's constitu ency, and some of them were quite clever fel lows. 1 didn’t mean it at all. Only it seems queer. Why, I met a mechanic who could talk as well as—as you do. But it does keep us in such a turmoil, when papa rtms for oflice, that you must pardon me if I am a little cross, and even speak disrespectfully of his followers. Oh, Webster,” sighing, “after we are married, I hope you will never take to politics.” Webster got up "quickly. “ I am sorry you don’t like it, Sylvia,” he began, in a nervous way. But a sudden burst of music from a brass baud broke off hie speech abruptly. “It is a parade,” Sylvia cried excitedly, springing to the window as the band, at the head of a body of delegates, turned the corner. Webster followed her reluctantly. He had grown suddenly.pals. “ Sylvia,” he Baid hurriedly, “ I . “It is the opposition,” she interrupted. “ See ! There is the banner.” “We want re form, and we have secured it by the nomination for Congress—.” Sylvia gasped. “ of Webster Arbuthnot ?” “ Darling I” he cried, flinging his arm around her. “ Let me explain. I was just going to tell you, when ” “ Then you are going to run for Congress, too I And against papa ?” “They forced the nomination upon me. I was the compromise candidate. Heaven knows I did not seek the honor; but I was in such a position that I could not ” “Oh, no doubt,” she answered caustically, freeing herself from his embrace. “ Those honors usually are thrust upon one, it seems.” “ Sylvia you are unkind.” “And no doubt you expect to defeat papa. Oh, the arrogance of some men is astounding.” “ Don’t be angry darling. I am sorry that your father and I happen to be tho opposing candidates. But every man has a right to his opinion, and it cannot make any difference to us, what are our respective politics.” “No ? It makes just this difference, Mr. Ar buthnot ” “Mr. Arbuthnot? Sylvia!” “I should be sorry to marry a politician, anyhow—they ara always a low set; but I will not marry one of the opposition.” “ Oh, my darling, don’t say that!” “ I mean it. You knew that I did not like politics. If you would rather engage in them than please me, you may do so. 1 have nothing more to say.” ‘ But you would not have me give up my honest convictions just because you oppose them, Sylvia. You could not respect me as a man.” “I mean exactly what I say,” she replied, shrugging her shoulders. “I have no desire to hamper you in any way. Let us consider our engagement at an end.” Webster drew back and looked at her. Her tall figure was drawn up to its full hight, her eyes flashed, and ho knew by the haughty curl of her proud lips that she was both earnest and angry. “As you will,” he replied, taking his hat with a dignified bow. “Good morning.” She turned when he had left her, half hurt that he had taken her at her word and gone away. Then,"Goman-like, sha burst into tears. “He can just go,” she said, sobbingly. “He can go and reform tho cor-cor-rupt party to which my father belongs; but oh, I do hope he will be beaten.” Several weeks before the election ex-Control ler Scott, who had been so occupied as to rarely eat nt homo, was dining at home with his daughter. “So you and Arbuthnot cannot make it up any more ?’” As he spoke he looked over the top of a news paper, which was well known as an organ of the popular party. “1 am not a friend to tho opposition,” she said, proudly. Mr. Scott laughed. “ What a girl you are, Sylvia. You’ro an out and-out partisan. But you needn’t have been so hard on young Arbuthnot. He’s a nice young fellow—too nice to run as a candidate of such a party as tho opposition; but, bless you, he hasn’t tho ghost of a show. Wo’ro going to sweep the polls this time. “ Then you feel sure of your election, papa ?” “I’d bet my last dollar on it. But I’d rather the papers would do the square thing. This attack on Arbuthnot’s record in tho custom house is downright mean.” “ You are to spoak in Billingham Square to night, aren’t you ?” Sylvia said, changing the subject deftly. “ Thomas is going to drive me there.” “ You must not think of such a thing.” “ Oh, yes. I will go in tho barouche, and I won’t even stick my head out once. Now, papa, don’t bother ;‘Cousin Fred is going with me, and you know I never heard you make a atump speech.” Sylvia had her way about this. At the hour appointed for the mass-meeting, she was driven to the grand stand. Billingham Square was packed with people. By the light of the blazing torches, carried by the clubs who had turned out, Sylvia saw such a scene as she had never witnessed before. Her carriage could not get very near the platform, and. as the wind was blowinglthe wrong way, Mr. Scott’s speech was all lost to her. “ I can’t hear a word, Fred,” she said, turning to her cousin. Across the sea of upturned faces, showing every gradation of virtue and intelligence, marking every station in life, touching every phase of depravity, Sylvia saw her father haranguing the populace with all the earnest ness of enthusiasm. “ Oh, I wish I could hear what ho says,” she cried, leaning forward. Bui her couaiu drew her back. “You mustn’t show your face, Sylvia,” he said, emphatically. “There is a perfect mob around you, and you promised that you wouldn't look out of the window.” “ But I can’t hear,” she retorted, in vexation. “ I might as well go home." “ I think it would be a great deal better,” said her cousin. “ But you can’t drive through a crowd like this without killing some one; so there’s nothing to do but wait till it breaks'-up.” “If I only had some chocolates. Don’t be disagreeable, Fred. Won’t you run over to Marron’s, and get me a box?” Fred hesitated. “ I won’t stir, and it won’t take ten minutes. You’re a man, and you can get through the crowd very easily. Do, there's a dear boy.” Fred got out, and did as ehe bade him. Syl via sat iu the carriage, looking curiously at the surging crowd. The horses shied a little at some passing torches, and Sylvia leaned for ward thoughtlessly, so that the light fell full upon her beautiful face, with its misty glory of yellow hair. Tho crowd saw her. “Whew! ain’t she a stunner ?” cried some coarse fellow, with a leer in his eye. and in p moment several ugly faces were peering iu the carriage door, making vulgar comments- and shouting their approval. With a low, frightened cry, Sylvia shrank back in the carriage. “Isay, beauty, gimme a kiss, won’t yon?” cried a'low fellow, with hia hand on the* door and his foot on the step. “This is Mr. Scott’s carriage!” she cried, frantically. “ Help I help !” A strong hand came to her deliverance. The ruffian was dragged away by the collar; there was a fierce scuffle outside of the carriage, and, cowering in one corner, Sylvia heard the cry of “Police!” Then there was a roaring in her ears, and she came very near fainting. Sud denly some one touched her, and said, in low, tender tones: “ Slyvia, are you safe ?” “ Webster !” she sobbed. “ Oh, thank God ! Take me home—take mo home!” He had gathered her in his arms, and she was too much frightened to resist. “ Drive on,” he cried to the coachman. But this was impossible now, for the way was fairly blocked. In the crowd a fight was in progress, for the rowdies who had accosted Sylvia resented the interference of some one who had coins to her rescue, and a passage-at-arms followed. Two fellows in particular closed iu a souffle, and, before the police arrived, they had drawn weapons. The s'harp report of a pistol was heard unex pectedly. But, iu the surge ot a scuffle, the course of the ball was changed completely. Fly ing wide of its intended victim, it sped over the heads of the crowd and struck Sylvia’s father, who was still speaking. He fell forward, blood gushing from a wound in his side. “Mr. Scott is assassinated,” was the cry that echoed through the streets. Sylvia heard it, and sank insensible into Webster’s arms. That was an awful night. Fred, delayed in a souffle with a thief who tried to pick his’ pocket, oame home, wild with anxiety, having failed on his return to find either Sylvia or the carriage. Mr. Scott was in a dangerous condition, but uot dead. It was a singular sight, in the weeks that followed, to see the opposition candidate spending all his leisure time at the bedside of his antagonist. “ You’ll beat me now, Arbuthnot,” Mr. Scott said, with the resignation of extreme weakness. “ ’Ton days before election make or mar a can didate, and I haven’t the ghost of a show, lying here like a helpless baby.” “I don’t feel so sure, sir,” said Webster, quietly. “ You were very popular as Controller, and a great many of the opposition are going to vote for you.” “ Maybe so. But, if lam beaten, I’ll have the consolation ot knowing it was by a good man.” But Arbuthnot was right. A great many of tho opposition did vote for Mr. Scott. Tho wound he had received, moreover, awoke gen eral sympathy, and so brought him votes. Ho had in tho district a majority of five hundred, which elected him. When the returns were all in, and Webster knew positively that he was defeated, ho camo to Sylvia with a smiling face. “ I am beaten,” he said bravely. “But I shall count my loss as little if you will only renomi nate me as your husband.” She looked at him with shining eyes and held out her hand with a sweet impulsiveness. “You are elected—by an overwhelmingly ma jority,” she said, softly. He took her in his arms and politics were no where. But I think that I ought to ask you to for give me,” she said at length. “ You have be haved beautifully, dear; and I am proud of you—if—you do belong to tho opposition. I think every man has a right to' his convictions, provided they are generous, and—and—if a man has a taste lor politics—a real taste I mean —of course he can’t be blamed for " Hero she was spared the necessity for further humiliation lor Webster stopped her mouth with kisses. The second year of their marriage, Arbuthnot was again nominated for Congress, and ran bo much better than the candidate ot the popular party that ho polled a higher majority than any candidate who ever ran in that district, a toTmagdalen. STORY OF A RECLAIMED LIFE. (Fi-om the Indianapolis lleies.) Among the guests atone of the loading hotels in Indianapolis, Ind., a few weeks ago, were a lady and gentleman from New York, who, for the purpose of this narrative, may be vaguely designated as Mr. and Mrs. B. Ho was a man of excellent social and business standing, and bJio a lady who was especially noted for her charity anil benevolence. They stopped in the city for several days, and while here were en tertained by Vice-President and Mrs. Hen dricks, for the two ladios had an acquaintance of several years’ standing, which was begun under very remarkable circumstances, and which eventually developed into a firm friend ship. Mrs. B. was not altogether a stranger to Indianapolis, for she had lived here before, and she had come back on an unpleasant but duti ful errand. Her early days had been days of darkness, and she had' returned to clear up the mystery ot her parentage and do what she might to repay the kindness of those who had befriended her when she most needed friends. Her life had not always been a pleasant or an upright one, but of late years she has done and is still doing everything in her power to atone for early waywardness and to keep the feet of other young girls from straying into the path which hers had trodden. Doubtless many peo ple who read this will remember her wheu a girl, and the troubles which resulted in her ex ile from her home and friends. About ten years ago she came to this city from Lafayette, and lived here with friends. No matter now what her name was, she was but fourteen years old—a beautiful young girl, gay and thoughtless. Like Mary Brandon, “she had no mother to teach her,” and her downfall was at the time attributed, whether truthfully or not, to one to whom, above all others, she had reason to look for protection and support. For a few weeks the papers were filled with ac counts of her doings, and eventually she was sent to the female reformatory. It was here that Mrs. Hendricks, who was then one of the board of managers of the institution, and other kind-hearted ladies, became interested in her, and tried to reclaim her, but it was a difficult task, for she had become embittered against all the world. One day an elderly lady, who was stopping in the city, visited the reformatory, and spent several hours among tho inmates. She became particularly interested in Miss 8., and finally agreed to adopt her and take her to her home in Canada, which she did. She lived there quietly and peaceably for many months, and then disappeared. Every effort was made to find her, detectives were employed and sent to the larger cities in the country, and advertisements were inserted in all the papers, but all with no effect. Nearly a year afterward a letter from New York came to her benefactress from her, and it told a pitiful story. She had fallen and re formed, and fallen again, and she wrote : “ I am determined to do right. If I find I cannot, I will kill myself, for I have had enough of misery and shame.” The lady went to her, found menial employ ment for her in a large dry goods establish ment, and she worked faithfully and lived hon orably, encouraged by the motherly care and teachings of her newly-found friend. The junior partner in the store was attracted by her pretty face and lady-like ways, and advanced her to a more lucrative position, and eventually begau paying her marked attention. He asked her to niarry him, and she refused him time and time again. He became importunate to know the reason, and finally she told him the whole story of her life—her sin and her Buffer ing-holding nothing back. Most men, whose creed of morality is never self-applicable, would have avoided her after that, but he did not. Ho took her out of the store, had her privately in structed in useful and ornamental knowledge, and at the end of a year’s probation married her. Since then her life has been pure and no ble, and in spite of the fact that she has a good social position, and everything that culture and refinement can suggest, the greater part of her time is spent in helping tho poor and trying to save the erring. She is the New Magdalen, iu fact, and not in fiction. Last Summer, when Mr. and Mrs. Hendricks were in New York, Mrs. B. called, made herself known, and invited them to her house. There a reception was given in their honor, and it was attended by many leading people of the me tropolis, while the papers gave lengthy accounts of it, but neither the guests or reporters sus pected for an instant how the hostess and her distinguished guests had become acquainted. A return visit was promised, and when Mr. and Mrs. B. came to Indianapolis, none were more greatly pleased to see them than Mr. and Mrs. Hendricks. Mrs. B. left her without ascertain ing what she desired concerning her parentage, but before she went she visited the reformatory, her former habitation, and arranged to find good homes for those unfortunate women who desired to reform, but had not the opportunity. FRENCHJUPERSTITION. A Sorceress Condemned to Twenty Years’ Imprisonment. The sorceress of Villejoint, Franca, has just been condemned to twenty years’ imprison ment at hard work, and after that to twenty years of surveillance by the police. Last Sum mer this woman, Tommier, made the acquaint ance in the church in Blois of a rich old lady, Mme. Duval. “I have succeeded,” said she, after some preliminary conversation, “ in discovering the secret which formerly rendered the sorcerers eo powerful, and what they used to do I can do. I cau restore harmony and peace in the home of your daughter, and I can also, if you desire it, give you a large fortune. I have the power to make gold come up out of the earth like water flowing from a spring.” Fascinated by these remarks, the old lady took the woman home with her to Villejoint, a village two miles from Blois, and gave her the best spare bed-room. Then tho next morning she gave her a sum of money, which the hag locked up in a bureau drawer, and, handing Mme. Duval the key, said: “ I have pronounced the charm, and as soon as I am gone it will begin to work; but if you should, during my absence, open the drawer, the spell will be broken.” The woman went away, promising to return on the fifth day. This she did, and, on enter ing the room where the money was, exclaimed: “I am inspired. I see all around me buried in tbe earth. If I had only four 100 franc notes, two of 500 francs and 2,000 francs in gold I could draw up thousands of millions from the earth.” Ths sum she asked for was added to the treasure in the drawer, a cfucifix was placed on it, another charm pronounced, and the old thief departed, promising to return on a fixed date. On her third visit more money, all the jewelry and silverware in tho house were add ed to the pile in the drawer. On her fourth and last visit she gave Mme. Duval a white powder that was to be burned the following Thursday after she had carefully closed all the doors and windows of her room. “As soon as it is con sumed,” said she, “ the earth will open and give forth its treasures.” Mme. Duval obeyed in structions. On the day and at the hour named she pounded tho powder into a small brazier and a terrible explosion followed; the windows were smashed, the ceiling torn open, the walls racked, and when the neighbors rushed in they found Mme. Duval lying on the floor in Buch a state that ehe was supposed to be dead. On her recovery she was finally induced, after much persuasion by the local magistrate, to re late all the circumstances of this most extraor dinary affair. THREE ms OF TEETH. A CASE. (From the Penver Tribune.) A very curious experience in dental surgery is reported io have recently transpired in Den ver. Mr. T. O. Cooper, of/bis citv, a gentleman of about fifty years of age' had for a great many years been wearing falsa teeth with a rubber plate. About a year or a half ago a little swell ing appeared beneath the upper lip and just be low tbe nose. The swelling soon became very painful, and he was unable to wear the plate in his mouth for a very long time. , He went to several physicians and surgeons, who tried va rious remedies in the hope of healing it over. Some of them thought it was a disease of the jaw-bone. He was finally sent to Dr. C. N. Guy er, a dentist in the King Block, who, noticing tho roughness of the surface, ventured at a guess, which turned out to be a true one. He told Mr. Cooper to take out his teeth and rub ber plate and wear them in his pocket. He then commenced treating the jaw with co- coaine, the now and valuable anneathetio. By this moans, with much less pain to Mr. Cooper than could have been supposed, he succeeded in extracting a long, narrow, bony substance, which proved to be a tooth—the result of that remarkable and much disputed phenomena, third dentition. Dr. Guyer has the tooth in his office. It would never have been very strong or very healthy, but would have appeared in the natural way had not the plate pressed upon it. This press ure caused it to lay horizontally along the gums instead of coming out perpendicularly. On the tooth being removed Mr. Cooper’s pain was soon relieved, and no bad results have followed the operation. Dr. Guyer considers this undoubted proof of a third dentition as extremely remark able. ana. This has been a cold Winter in this neighbor hood, but it has not been a patch on what they’ve had out West, if the following is A TRUE STATEMENT OF SOLID FACTS. ’• " We’ve had a very cold Winter,” said a traveling man to a Westerner on a train between Milwaukee and St. Paul. “Yes,” was the response, *'purty cold. Colder up here, I guess, than it was in your State.” “I don’t know about that; it was so cold along the lake shore that stove-lids froze in the holes, and when a man went to bed at night ho had to break the covers with a club before ho could turn them down to get under them.” ••That’s rawther cool, but it’s not a patchin’ to what we have up in this country. I’ll tell you a lit tle experience I had in January. I run a livery sta ble, and a mountain tough came in to hire a rig. It was §o darn cold that I wouldn’t let anything go out, and the cuss' got mad and began to tear around. I follered him out on the street, and the first thing I kuowed he had his pistol out, pointin’ it right at mo. I thought I was a goner, and backed off about twenty feet, when he blazed away.” “Did he hit you ?” “No, and that’s the funny part of it. The air was froze so hard around the muzzle of bis gun that the bullet bounced back and knocked one of his eyes out, and I had to pay the blamed old fool’s doctor bill to keep him from suin' mo for damages.” Here is an amusing story told by the London Graphic about SHAKESPEARE AND THE MANAGER. A certain Jew money-lender, once upon a time, took the Garrick Theatre, in Loman street, White chapel, and to make a good beginning opened it with “Hamlet,” a certain popular West End tragedian being engaged to sustain ths role. The theatre was in very low repute at the time, even in its' imme diate neighborhood, and on the opening night he sent forth complimentary admissions to all the principal tradespeople around. Now, this trage dian followed the old traditions of the part, and went about in the second act with “ his hose un gartered” and hanging down his leg. When Mr. Moses, as we’ll call him, caught sight of this from the back of the boxes, he rushed round behind the scenes and furiously assailed the prompter. “Vat is the meaning of this?” he cried. “ Vat does that man mean by not tying up his stockings? I never was so ashamed of anything in all my life. There’s Mrs. Abrahams, the fruiterer, and Mrs. Jacobs, the fishmonger, and all the eZiie of the neighborhood in; it will ruin me.” “ But it is quite right, sir,” said the prompter, showing him the book. Mr. Moses put on his spectacles and examined the passage. “Who wrote this play ?” he cried, more wrathfully than ever. •• Why, Shakespeare, sir,” answered the astonished functionary. “Then,” cried Mr. Moses, shaking his forefinger, “you may tell Mr. Shakespeare that he'll never write another play for my theayter.” Wo have road a story somewhat similar to this one, but the scone of it was located in Ireland, while this is said to be A CIRCASSIAN TALE. A man and a girl were traveling in the same direc tion. They did not know one another, but had met accidentally. The man carried a live chicken in one hand, a walking-stick in the other, and a good-sized copper kettle on his back. He was also leading a goat. As they turned from an open lane into a dark mountain pass, the girl said to the man: •’ I am afraid to go with you through this pass/, It is lonely and secluded, and you might wish to kiss me against my will.” “If you had been afraid of that,” answered the man, “ you would not have come with me. How can I kiss you against your will, when I have this big copper kettle on my back, this stick in ono hand, this wild chicken in the other, and this shy kid to lead ? lam bound, hand and foot.” “That’s true,” replied the girl, “but if you put your stick in the earth and tied the kid to it, and then put down the chicken and turned the.kettle over it, you might be wicked enough to kiss me in spite of myself.” “ The Lord bless the sagacity of woman,” said the man, rejoicing, “ I should never have thought of such an easy way ?” And as they came into the pass he put the stick in the ground, tied the kid to it, turned the kettle over the chicken, and was wicked enough to kiss the as tonished girl with the greatest energy. From Boston cometh this gentle wail for PLEASURES PAST. 1. The Winter’s almost past, the time is coming fast that brings the genial sunshine bright and clear, clear, clear, and paragraphers gay will shortly put away the sealskin joke until another year, year, year. 2. The coalman and the plumber, all through the coming Summer, will bo allowed to take a well earned rest, rest, rest, and, springing from its tomb., the ice cream joke will boom in new and handsome garments gayly dressed, dressed, dressed. 3. The picnic sandwich, too, existence will renew, and jokers on its make-up will descant, cant, cant, declaring it is made of neither ham nor bread, but from the hardest kind of adamant. Giant, mant. 4. Then, both in prose and verse, the jokers will rehearse the tale anont the lovers who till late, lato, late, sit on the stoop and spoon, or, ’neath the sil ver moon, together swing upon the garden gate, gate, gate. 5. But this is merely done for purposes of fun, intended as a little harmless chaff, chaff, chaff no malice in the play—to drive dull care away, and make the melancholy person laugh, laugh, laugh. Few car-drivers would object to SUCH A SOFT SNAP. “Jim,” said a street-car driver to his conductor, “discipline is pretty strict in the army, ain’t it ?” “Stricter than that of a bell punch.” “Those court-martials are fearful things, ain’t they ?” “Dreadful.” “All the same, I wish wo had court-martials in the street-car business.” “You do ?” “You bet. Getting retired for twelve years on half pay would bo as good a snap as I'd want.” The gentleman who received advice from a friend in Canada MAY FEEL LIKE STAYING AT HOME. A few weeks ago the cashier of a Milwaukee bank wrote to a distinguished resident of Canada as fol lows: “ Dear Sir—l have a splendid opportunity to gob ble up $60,000 and join you in Canada. Can I have fun enough to offset the sacrifice of reputation, home and a largo circle of friends ?” The distinguished resident replied by next mail as follows, and wrote “in haste” on the envelope: “Don’t you do it. I got away with a heap more swag than that, and I can’t find a Canuck who’ll even drink beer with me.” It is said that the D. R. misses his dear Bibla class more than all else. The thiefs experience in thia brief story is NOT A VERY UNUSUAL ONE. First thief—“ You’re a lucky dog. I didn’t expect to see you out so soon. So the jury didn’t convict you ?” Second thief—*' No.” “ And yet there you stood before them with the stolen money in your pocket. It’s lucky they didn’t search you.” “ They did.” “ They did 1 They didn’t find it ?’• “ No, 1 didn’t have it.” “ Why, what had yo.u done with it T” *' Paid it to my lawyer.” The deliberation of tho Boston young woman must have COMPLETELY CRUSHED THE DRUMMER. A drummer struck up an acquaintance with & Boston girl on a train that was snow-bound in a recent blockade. The car was cold and the young lady sat with her hands in her muff. With that gentle and persistent delicacy in such matters for which the male sax, and drummers in particular, are noted, he managed to get one of his hands into the muff along with hers. “ Sir 1” she said, stiffly, “ what do you mean by such conduct ? lam inexpressibly shocked, sir. I am from Boating, and I would have you know that such familiarity is resented. I would be justified in screaming for assistance; but I hate scenes, and I’ll give you just twenty minutes to take your hand out of there.” SCINTILLATIONS. You can slip through Harvard now without any help from Greece. There are two things in this world no body is ever prepared for—twins. Lovers, like armies,. get along well enough till the engagement begins. When whisky gets the better of a man he may be sure the devil is foreclosing his mort gage. Remember, young man, dat de best frian’ yer’s got on dis earth is a better frieu’ ter himself den he is ter you. Teacher—“ What does the proverb say about those who live in glass houses ?” Small Boy —“Pull down the blinds.” If Carl Schurz should insist on a for eign mission, Alaska could be made into a foreign country as easily as any other. When a good man goes wrong every ■ body notices it. When a bad man goes right, he ex pects to be paid for it right away. Down in Mexico they call an editor a “periodista,” perhaps because it’s his business to put periods “and sich” into other people’s copy. “ Ooh, whati a recreation it is to be dy ing of lovo 1 It sets the heart aching so deliciously there’s no taking a wink of sleep for tha pleasure of the pain.” It is scientifically estimated that if all the “champion” roller-skaters in America should stand up in a row, there wouldn’t be people enough left to count them, A good many, men wear newspapers under their vests to keep the body warm. So it often happens that a man has more intelligence un der bis coat than under his hat. If the land in England and Wales were divided equally among the entire population, each person would receive 1.44 acres, of the annual value of about $32, or a little more than sixty cents a week. Laud Reformer Henry George makes SIOO a night trying to persuade everybody to come down to sixty cents a week. Life must be very pleasant on the Con< go, Instead of a man having to rush home at 4P< P. to give his wife lour hours' time to prepare for the opera, and then wait another half hour on the front steps until the 200 and odd forgotten things are found and arranged, the Congo husband stroll, home a few minutes before the performance begins and simply saysi •• Sarah, adjust your hairpin. We will go to the opera.” An Amazonian Paradise.—Among the colonial possessions, or, more correctly, de- Rendenoies, of Holland, there is a remarkabla ttle State which, in its constitution and orig inal costume of its inhabitants, surpasses the boldest dreams of the advocates of women’s rights. In the island of Java, between the cities of Batavia and Samarane, is the kingdom of Bantam, which, although tributary to Holland, is an independent State. The sovereign is, in deed, a man, but all the rest of the government belongs to the fair sex. The king is entirely dependeut upon his State Council. The high est authorities, military commanders and sol diers are, without exception, of the female sex, The Amazons ride in the masculine style, wear ing sharp steel points instead of spurs. They carry a pointed lance, which they swing very gracefully, and also a musket, which is dis charged at full gallop. The capital of this little State lies in the most picturesque part ot tht island, iu a'fruitful plain, and is defended by two well-kept fortresses. • , »■"<■* A BuKaiAKS’ Association.—The last reported novelty in London Is a burglars’ com pany, which conducts business in a most care ful and systematic manner. It has a number oi inspectors, who travel over Europe in quest of openings for ‘'work,” and mechanics who can open the most elaborate safe. Finally, there it a solicitor who negotiates the restitution oi bonds for a commission of thirty-five per cent, All the managers have received a prison educa tion. MW.ll.nrTO Scrofula. Vanderbilt’s Money Couldn’t Buy It. The Acworth News and Farmer, of this week, says: Mrs. Elizabeth Baker, living within three miles of Acworth, remarked that Vanderbilt’s fortune could not buy from her what six bottles of Swift’s Specific has done for her. Her statement Is as follows: For thirty-one years I have suffered almost death from that horrible disease, scrofula. For years I was unable to do anything in keeping up my domestic affairs. Last October I was induced to try Switt’l Specific, and used two bottles, and was so much benefited by it that I purchased four more from Messrs, Northcut <k Johnson, which has almost entirely relieved me. I foal like a new person, and can do all my own housework. Be fore I took the S. S.'S, my life was a burden, as my entire person was covered with sores, and in this miserable oon dition I did not care to live. I had tried every known remedy, and my case was generally regarded as incura ble. I had been treated by the best physicians to no avail I most heartily recommend Swiff’s Specific to the af flicted. Messrs. Northcut & Johnson, merchants at Acworth, say: We know Mrs. Elizabeth Baker personally; we ars familiar with her case. She is highly esteemed in tfall community.’ Rheumatism Twenty Years. I have been a sufferer from rheumatism tor twenty years, at times with almost intolerable pain. I bad ths best medical treatment, and took all sorts of remedies, but without relief. Being reduced almost to a skeleton, and not being able to walk even with crutches, I was in duced to try Swiff’s Specific, and it acted like a charm, and I am to-day entirely relieved. Have thrown away my crutches, and am in excellent health. I believe Swiff’s Specific will cure the worst cases ol rheumatism. Mbs. Ezra Mershon. Macon, Ga.» Aug. 4, ’B4, Communication. Wetumpka, Ala., Sept. 28, 1884.—About six years ago I became afflicted with a very disagreeable skin disease, with large, dry seres and many crusted pimples on my face, hands and shoulder. The sore on my shoulder eat out a hole nearly an inch deep, and the cancerous appear ance of one of the sores near my eye alarmed me very much. I tried all kinds of treatment, but found nothing that seemed to afl’ect the disease. I finally decided to try S. 8. S. on advice of a physician, and iu a short time the scabs dropped from the io .es and left my skin smooth and well. I consider 8. S. 8. the greatest blood medicine made, and the only thing that will cure the disease with which 1 was afflicted. I think my trouble was the result of a terrible attack of malarial fever, contracted while farming in the Tallapoosa river swamp. I can be found at my office in the court house at Wetumpka, You can refer to me. J. L. Rhodes, Dep. Sheriff Elmore Co., Ala. Treatise on Blood and Skin Diseases mailed free. 'las Swift Specific Co., Drawer 3, Atlanta, Ga. Variety* is the Spice of Life. There is variety in the letters received by Mrs. Lydia E. Finkham, testifying to the cures effected by her Vegetable Compound and the groat relief afforded to thousands ol women In all sections. Mrs. C—, of Toronto, says: “I have taken three bottles with very gratifying results.” Mrs. Stephen B, of Shefllngton, Quebec, says: “ I am now using the fourth bottle and have derived great benefit already.” Sarah C ,of Eugene City, Oregon, says: “It is tire best medicine for the female sex I have ever found.” Mrs. C ,of Santa Fe, says: “Your Compound has done me a great deal of good.” Mrs. n. S. D ,of Portland, Me., says: ”It has done for me all it claimed to and I cheer fully recommend it to all suffering as I have done.” Mrs. D. H. E ,of Lexington, Va., says: “I have taken one bottle and I assure you I feel a great deal better, I feel strong as eyerand I’ve never felt a pain in my back since the second dose.” Suffering Womanhood* Too much effort cannot be made to bring to the attention of suffering womanhood the great value of Lydia E. Pink ham’s Vegetable Compound as a remedy for the disoaflei of women, and perhaps nothing is more effectual than the testimony ot those who have been cured by it. Such an ono is the wife of General Barringer, of Winston, N. C,, and we quote from the General’s letter as follows: “ Dear Mrs. Pinkham: Please allow me to add my testimony t 6 the most excellent medicinal qualities of your Vegetable Compound. Mrs. Barringer was treated for several years for what tho physicians called Leucorrhea and Prolapsus Uteri combined. I sent her to Richmond, Va., where she remained for six months under the treatment of an emi* nent Physician without any permanent benefit. She wat Induced to try your medicine, and alter a reasonable time commenced to improve, and is now able to attend to hel business and considers herself fuliy relieved.'* [General Barringer Is the proprietor of the American Hotel, Wing* ton, N. C., and is widely known.— Ed.] LYDIA E. PINKHAM'S VEGETABLE COMPOUND la prepared at Lynn, Mass. Price, sl. Six bottles for $5. Sold by all druggists. Sent by mail, postage paid, in form of Pills or Lozenges, on receipt of price as above. Mrs. Pinkham’s “ Guide to Health ” will be mailed free to any Lady sending stamfe. Letters confidentially answered. VETIfsPECIFIGS *' For the Cure of all diseases of ‘AZ- Horses, Cattle, Sheep DOGS, HOGS, POULTRY. Used successfully for 20 years by Far mer?, Stockbreeders, Horse R. 8., &o. Endorsed & used by the U-S.Gorcriiin’t. HUMPHREYS’ MEDICINE CO., 109 Fulton St, New York. * Humphreys’ Homeopathic ® Specific iOi In b use 30 years. The only successful remedy for Nervous Debility, vital Weakness, and Prostration, from * over-work or other 6aWs. $1 per vial, or 5 vials and Urge vial powder, for $5. Sold by Druggists, or sent postpaid on receipt of BRANCH STORE, NO. 823 BROADWAY, wnroiw Used for over 25 years with great success by tha physicians of Paris, New York and London* and supe rior to all others for the prompt cure of all cases,recent or of long standing. Put up only in Glass Bottles containing Capsules each. PRICE 75 CENTS. MAKING THEM THE CHEAPEST CAPSULES IN THE MARKET. |Perfezi®oS®jHM~££B Kblgorating Pill, sl. All post-paid. Address % New England Mhu-ical Institute, >• No. 24 Tromo’s Row, Boston, Mass. ■; A ” A7ZZ AZSA" ; ZAA AZA zzjz.; zzz; zza IN TWO HOURS. A PERMANENT’ CURE GUARAN TEED IN EVERY CASE. I’rof. A. W. ALLEN. No. CO 4 GRAND STREET, New York City. ALLEN’S SWEET WORM WAFERS, a positive cure for STOMACH and i'iit WORMS. All Druggista, Pamphlet Free $$ Pisa a?- those suffering from tho Ml cay, lost manhood, etc., I will send you particulars Of a simple and certain means of self cure, free of charge, fca&vpur address to F. O. Moodus, Cona* 7