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BY MILIUM Ct'LLKN BRTANT. To him who, in t he love of nature, hold Onmuunion with her visible lorun, the speaks A various language: for his K"!" hours hiM has a voice cf Kladness, and a nolle .Asi .doquence of beauty; and she glides nu his darker luusiugs with a mild And centle sympathy, that steals away Theti sharpness', ere he ta aware. When thoughta Of the hut hitter hour coine like a blight , Over thy spirit, and the ad images ; CX the atern agony, and shroud and pall, And breathl darkness, and the narrow house, Make thee to shudder and grow sick at heart, io forth under the open sky, and list To nature's teaching, while from all around Karth and her waters, and the depth of air Come a still voice: Vet a few days, and thee The all-behold ing sun shall ae no more In all his course; nor yet in the cold ground, Where thy pale form waa laid with many tears, . i .i.i ,.,..rar nf rvcn. shall exist tht iiuaue. Earth, that nourished thee, shall claim . . 1 .W I Thr grow i h, to be resolved U earth again ; And. lost each human trace, surrendering up Thine Individual being shalt thou go To mix forever with the elements; To be a brother to the insensible rock. And to the sluggish clod, which the rude swain Turns with his share and treads upon. The oak ihall send his roots abmad and pierce thy mould. Yet not to thine eternal resting place tShalt thou retire alone nor couldst thou wih Couch more magnificent. Thou ahalt lie down With patriarchs of the infant world with kings, The powerf ul of the earth the wise the good, Fair forms, and httary seers of ages past, All in one mighty sepulchre. The hills, Hock-ribbed, and ancient aa the aun; the Tale frit retching in penaive quietness between; The Tenerable woods; r.Ters that move ?n .nain.i an1 i h rom nlaininir brooks. That make the meadows green; and, poured round all, Old oceans' gray and melancholy waste Are but the solemn decorations all Of the great tomb of man. The golden aun, The planets, all the infinite hosts of heaven, Are shining on the sad abodes of death, Through the still lapse of age. All that tread The globe a-e but a handful to the tribes That slumber in dta boHom. Take the wings Of morning, traverse Barca'a desert sands, Or lose thvself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregon, and bears no sound Save his nwu dashiugs yet the dead are there 1 And millions in those solitudes, since first The Hlght of years fcogan, have laid them down In their last sleep the dead reign there atone! So shalt thou rest : and what if thou withdraw In silence from the living, and no friend Take note of thy departure! All that breathe Will sharo thy aestiny. The gay will laugh ,. When thou art gone, the solemn brood of care l'lod on, and each one, a before, will thane Ilia favorite Dhantom : vet all these shall leave Tbtir mirth and their employments, and shall And make their bed with thee. As the long train come Of ages glide away, the sons of men -The youth in life's rfcun spring, and he who goes - Jn the full strength of years, matron and maid, And the sweet babe, and the gray headed man final I, one by one, be gathered to thy side Jty those who in their turn shall follow them. S live, that when thy summons comes to join I'tm inniiiiiorulila rnravaii that tiiovpn To the pale realms of shade, where encrt shall take tits chamber in me sneni nam 01 ueniu, Thou go not like the quarry-slave at night, Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained soothed Hy an unfaltering trust, npproach thy Rrave J.iko one who wraps the drapery of his couch About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams. and ' NASNIE. I 2vnnot set down in so many words iust when or how it came to be under stood between my partner, John Still- man, and myself that I was to marry his daughter, Nannie, when she was old enough. I have a vague impression that she was in long clothes at the time we hrst talked of it. Her mother died when she was a little girl, and old Mrs. Stillman took her home to the family houHe at Owl's Cor ner, one of the prettiest little villages I ever had the gpod .fortune to see. But Nannie was 18 when I first met her as a woman, and this was the scene of our meeting. ' ' k John had sent for me to come to Owl's Corner on a certain July day, promising to drive over to the station and meet me,' as my elderly legs covered the ground but slowly. W e had re tired from business, rich men both, some five years before, and correspond ed regularly. But I had been abroad, and this was my first visit to Owl s Cor ner in ten years. I remembered Nannie as a romping child, fond of swinging on the gates, climbing up grape-arbors, and imperiling her neck fifty times a day, John always saying on eaci occasion: "She's a little wild, but she'll get over that. i waited at the station lor naif an hour; then, seeing no sign of John, I started to walk home. It was midday and fearfully hot, and when I accom plished half the distanco I turned off the road and started through a grove that gave me a longer walk, but thick shade. I was resting there on a broad stone, completely hidden by the bushes on eyery side, when I heard John's voice: " Where have vou been?" There was such dismay and astonish ment in the voice that I looked up in surprise, to find that he was not greet ing me, but a tall, slender girl coming toward him. ouch a sight I bhe was dark and beautiful, dressed in a thin dress of rose-pink, faultless about the face and throat, but from the waist down clinging to her, one mass of the green- cat, blackest, thickest mud and water. In the duck pond," she answered -wifn-a voice as clear and musical as a viiime of bells. " Don't come near me." " You aro enough to wear a man into his grave ! There, don't scold," was the coax ing reply ; " little Bob Ryan fell in face down. It did not make any material difference in his costume, but I was afraid he would smother, so I waded in after liim. The water is not over two feet deep, but the mud goes clear through to China, 1 imagine. It is rather a pity about my new dress, isn t it? "A pity !" ronred John ; "you'll come to an untimely end some day with your freaks. As if there was nobody to pick a little brat out of a duck pond but you 1" "There actually was nobody else about. There, now, don't be angry. I'll go up to the house and put on that be witching white affair that came from New York last week, and be all ready to drive over to the station with you, at wbat time ? About o. Ljawrcnce is coming on tho 2:10 train." And I had come on the 12:10. This accounted for the failure to meet me. I kept snug in my retreat until John and Nannie were well on their way home ward, wondering a little how many young ladies in my circle of friends would have so recklessly sacrificed a new dress to pick up a beggar's brat out of the mud. When I. in my turn, reached tho house, John was on the porch, waiting for N annie's reappearance. He gave me a most cordial welcome, or rather a lunch con, called JNannie, nis mother, and a man to go for my trunk, all in one breath, and seemed really rejoiced to oe no. Presently a slender girl, with a truly bewitching " white dress, trimmed with dashes of scarlet ribbon, and smoothly-braided black hair, tied with scarlet bows, came demurely into the room and waa introduced. But the half-1 shy, half-dignifled company manner soon wore away, ana nannie ana 1 were fast friends before dinner. She sang for me in a voice as deliciously fresh as bird's carol; she took mo to see her pets, the new horse that was her last birthday gift from "papa," the ugly Iltue Dootcu wirier witu uio utHtuioiui brown eyes, the rabbits, Guinea hens, and the superannuated c Id pony, who had preceded the new horse. In a week 1 was in Jove as much as ever John could have desired. Nannie was the most bewitching maiden I had ever met, childlike and yet womanly, frank, bright, and full of girlish freaks and boyish mischief, ana yet well edu cated, with really wonderful musical gifts, and full of noble thoughts. Bhe was a perfect idol in the village, her friends and neighbors thinking no party complete without her, while tiie poor fairly worshiped her. John allowed her an almost unlimited budpIv of pocket-money, and she was lavish in all charity, from blankets for old women, tobacco for old men, to can dies for the children, and rides on horse back for the urchms. And she had a way of conferring favors that never wounded the pride of the most sensitive. We rode together every morning ; we walked in the cool evening hours ; we spent much time at the piano, and dis cussed our favorite authors, and one day, when I aRked Nannie to bo my wife, she said, coolly : Why, of course ; I thought that was all understood long ago. I was rather amazed at such matter - 1 1 1 11- 11.1-1 11- - 1 of-fact wooing, but delighted at the re suit. How could I expect tny soft, blushing speeches ? , I suppose I ranked just where John and Nannie's grand mother did m her affection. But one morning, when Mrs. Stillman was snipping her geraniums in the sitting-room and John was reading the morning's newspapers, Nannie burst in, her beautiful face all aglow, her eyes bright with delight, crying : ' - "Oh, grandma I . Walt has come home ! I saw him from my window rid ing up the road." - She was going then, lust as John ex claimed: ' " Confound Walt !" . " Who is Walt?" I naturally inquired. "Walter Bruce, the son of one of our neighbors. He has been like a brother fr MnnniA nil lipr lif Vint Trnnf nfT tr Europe two years ago, when he came of age. lhey wanted to correspond, but 1 forbade that. So he has turned up again." . ' It was evident that John was terribly vexed, and I very soon shared his annoy ance. Y alt, a tall, handsome young fellow, improved, not spoiled, by travel, just haunted the house. Ho was generally off with Nannie as soon as he arrived, and blind to jurs. Stillman's ill-concealed coldness, and John's sarcastic speeches about boys and puppies. As for me, by the time my sleepy eyes were opened in the morning, Nannie had taken a long ride with Walt, was at the piano when I came into the room, and Walt was walking beside Nannie when the hour for our usual stroll ar rived. And the very demon of mischief pos sessed the girl. There was no freak she was not inventing to imperil her life, riding, driving, boating, and I fairly shivered sometimes at the prospect of my nervous terrors when it would be my task to try to control this quicksilver temperament. But one day, when I was m the sum mer house, a very rueful little maiden, with a tear-stained face, came to mv side. " Walt is going away," she said. "Indeed." "Yes, and he says I'm a wicked flirt." with a choking sob; "I thought I would ask you about it. "About what?" "Our getting married. You know papa told me I was to marry you ages and ages ago." "Yes." "And I knew it was all right if he said so. But Walt says you must be a muff if you want a wife who is all the time thinking of somebody else. " And you know I can't help it. Walt has-been my friend ever since wo were always together. And when ho was in Europe papa wouldn't let us write to each other, but I kissed his picture every night and morning and wore his hair in a locket, and thought of him all the time. And he says you won't like it after we are married." " Well, not exactly," I said, dryly. "You'll have to stop thinking of him then." "I don't believe I ever can. And so I thought I'd tell you, and perhaps perhaps you will tell papa we don't care about being married after all. I don't think I could ever be sedate and grave like an old lady, and of course I ought, to if I am to be an old man's wife." "Of course." "And I am so rude and horrid: I know I am not lke nice city girls, and I am altogether hateful, but Walt don't care, I rather agreed with Walt as she stood in high confusion before me, her eyes still misty, her sweet lips quivering. It was a sore wrench to give her up but I was not quite an idiot, and I said. gravely: "But your father?" " Yes,! know; he'll make a real storm. But then his storms don't last long, and maybe you would tell him that you have changed your mind, lou have, haven t you ? les; the last nan hour has quite changed my mitnmonial views. I could not help smiling, and the next momenJ two arms encircled my neck, a warm kiss fell upon my cheek, and Nan nie cried: "You are a perfect darling, a perfect darling, and I shall love you dearly all my life." So when I lost her love I gained it. She flitted away presently, and I gavo myself a good mental shaking up, and concluded my fool's paradise would soon have vanished if I had undertaken to make an "old lady " out of Nannie. John's wrath was loud and violent. He exhausted all the vituperative lan guage in the dictionary and then sat down, panting and furious. "Come, now," I said, "what is the objection to young Bruce? Is he poor?" "No, confound him! He inherits his grandfather's property, besides what his father will probably leave him." Ts he immoral? "I never heard so." " What does ail him, then I" " Nothing, but I have 6et my heart on Nannie's marrying you." " Well, you see she has sot her heart in another direction, and I strongly ob ject to a wife who is in love with some body else. "What on earth sent the puppy hornet" Love for Nannie, I imagine. Come, John, you won't be my father-in-law, for I will not marry isannie 11 you are ever so tyrannical, but we can jog along as usual, the best of friends look I" I pointed out of the window as I spoke. On the garden walk, shaded by a great oak tree, Walter Bruce stood, looking down at Nannie with love-lighted eyes. Her beautiful face, all dimpled with smiles and blushes, was lifted up to meet his gaze, and both her little hands were fast prisoned in his strong ones. John looked. His face softened, his eyes grow misty, and presently he said : ' 1 X nxrr Tinnrw nil A in TiflwrAnftA " "And we will not cloud her happi ness, John, I answered. " I his is right and fitting. Nannie is too bright a May flower to be wilted by being tied up to an old December log like me. So when, half fearful, the lovers came in, they met only words of affection, and Nannie s face lost nothing of its sun shine. She was the loveliest of brides a few months later, and wore the diamond naruro I had ordered for my bride at her wedding. And she is the most 1 1:4.1 . i jmnmr.Al-.lA nTl. charming little matron imaginable, with all her old freaks merged into sunshiny cheerfulness, and her husband is proud, happy man, while I'm Uncle Lawrence to the children and the warm friend of the whole family. SfiABLY $2,000,000 A YEAH The 1111 Fundi to lleduce Intemperance and Taxation Simultaneously. A special committee of the City Coun cil of St. Louis has made i report strongly in favor of tho adoption of th6 bell-punch .system of taxing malt and alcoholic liquors. They say that, ' upon information furnished by a distinguished Virginian, they are satisfied that tho rev enue in Virginia this year will be nearly double what it was last year, and the Auditor of tho State asserts that its work ing is satisfactory to saloon proprietors and to the people to such an extent that if it were put to a vote in Vir ginia now it would pass by more than nine to one." Tho committee claims that the tax is not an involuntary one, but a voluntary tribute by the consumer. Ho is not compelled to take the drink and the . saloon-keeper is not charged with the tax until he has collected its from the consumer. The effect of the law would be measurably to decrease the number of cheap whisky shops, and to increase the consumption of beer. The statistics in Itichmond. Va,. for two months, show that in that city, in Sep tember, 1877, the alcoholic registrations were 126,880, and the malt registrations 135.53G. In the month of ApriL 1878 after the law had been some time In op eration, the number of alcoholic regis trationswas 119,535, and of malt 150,807, The committee are of opinion that upon the diminution of alcoholic con sumption may be safely predicted an in crease of sobriety and a diminution of crime, thus decreasing the necessary ex penditures for police and tho criminal courts and jails. Coming to the important question of revenue, the committee estimates that $000,000 would be realized in St. Louis from beer alone, and that the sale of whisky and other alcoholic drinks would certainly double this sum, thus showing a revenue from this mode of taxation of near $2,000,000 a yer. Besides the floating population, strangers as well as residents would thus help to bear the burden of taxation. The committee paint a alowincr pict ure of the practical benefits likely to result from the bell-punch. The now filthy streets would be well paved, th bonded debt of the city would be rap idly retired, and St. Louis, independent of creditors, would be one of the hap piest, as it is one of the most energetic and prosperous, cities of the Union. Tom Thumb and Jenny LInd. "Where's Tom Thumb now, Mr. Barnum?" "He is living in Middleborough Plymouth county, Mass., near Taunton Ho is a great, big fellow now; weighs eighty pounds. Yet he draws' pretty well. He and his wife and Gen. Grant, Jr., and Minnie Warren give drawing room entertainments every winter, They net about $200 night. Tom Thumb should be very well off. But he has squandered a good deal of his money in yachts, etc. He is 41 years old. I will tell you something in the strictest confidence. Minnie Warren you know, who married Gen. Grant, Jr, (his real name is Newell), a short time ago, is in a very interesting condition She is a nice little thing. Her parents and the other little people s parents all live in or near Middleborough. " Is Jenny Lind poor ?" "Not a bit of it. The reports to that effect in the newspapers were the gross est slanders all that story, you remem ber, about her husband's being a spend thrift and making way with her money. He sued one of the publishers, and proved in court that Jenny is worth $2,000,000. She made $1,000,000 in America, and Mr. Goldschmidt invested it so successfully that it has doubled it self. He is a real nice, quiet, little fel low, a Jew though he became a Chris tian when he married her and three or four years younger than she. I saw her only a year ago. She is well and ftPPy She has a grown-up son and daughter. Sir Julim Benedict, the composer. Jenny's old teacher, told mo that the daughter would have been as great a singer as her mother ever s if she hadn't been rich. As for the ion, he knows that Jenny is rich. He likes to spend the money, and Jenny likes to have him." Interview with Barnum. At this season of the year many valu able cows die from what is known as the " clover bloat," and it may be well to know some simple remedy. A physi cian in Divcnport, Iowa, says turpen tine will cure nearly every case. One fourth of a gill is an ordinary dose. IUTTLES OF LONU AtlO. Trifling Loaaca In th Continental "Wara aa Compared With Those of Later Yeara. From the Coruhill Magazine. It was the glorious epoch, that of the peninsular war! Nine-tenths of the names embroidered in golden letters on our regimental colors were won m tho five years intervening betweeen 1809 and 1814. The story of that time has s'.ill power to recall to us memories full of the glories of battles won from Napo leon's greatest captains, of sieores in which the terrible valor of our soldiers was pre-eminent, of marches and feats of endurance never paralleled in our modern history, before nor since. But, though the battles of the peninsular war, auu Diiu uuoro me crowning victory 01 Waterloo, are household names among 11s, we have wholly lost sight of a fact that, at the time, did much to influence the national joy over our victories; that fact was our long-continued failure in any portion of Europe to oppose the legions of the republic or empire. On the coast of i? ranee, in the low countries, in Flanders, in Sicily, in Corsica, in Na ples, at Genoa we had utterly failed to maintain our own attacks, in i:crvpt alone had our land forces been success ful, and in Egypt every element of suc cess was on onr side. From 1793 to 1809 we had not a sinele result to buow on the continent of Europe for the X300, uuu.uikj which we had added to tho na tional debt in that period. Our expedi tions to France, Spain. Portugal, Hol land, Italy and Corsica had all ended in complete failure. It was on this ac count that the victories of the following years appeared so glorious. The nation's faith in its army had reached its lowest ebb. and tho reaction of victory was pro portionately great. - liut tne greatness of tho success in Spain and at Waterloo did much toward hiding from view then and since the act ual josses we sustained. When we here state that our entire loss in killed in Spain, Portugal and Flanders, including all battles, engagements, skirmishes, siecres, and sorties did not amount to the loss in killed suffered by the Germans.in the two battles of Gravelotte and Sedan, we state a fact which will doubtless as tonish many readers. Yet it is never theless true. A statement of our actual losses during the years from 1808 to 1815 iliclusive will be read with interest" in these days of breech-loaders : 1H(H, includinK llollca and Vlmiera 1W 1hii, including Talavera , 777 1810, includluK Uuhoo, eto.k .. IV) 1811, including Darossa, Alburra.et ' 1,401 1412, including Ciudad ltodrlgo, ttadajoz, Sal amanca, llurgos, etc 1,900 1813, including Vlttorla, Pyrenees, San Sebas- tUn, Kivelle and Ntve 2 231 181 , including Orthcz. Toulouse (572 1815, including (juartre Bras and Waterloo.... 1.S29 ,254 But from this total must be taken 1,378, tho number of foreign soldiers killed in our service, leaving 7,876 as the entire loss in killed during the whole war in Spain and Portugal, together with that of Quartre Bras and Waterloo. Six thousand men killed in the entire peninsular war ! Not half the liussian loss at Evlau. less than the Russian loss before Plevna, less than half the Freneh dead at Waterloo. Out-Door Sports. , The season has now arrived when out door sports are apropos. The, caterpil lar has left his den, the mosquito has turned over in bed and uttered a warn ing shriek, and big green worms are sky larking around on shade trees, and betting on their chanoes of dropping down behind a man's coat-collar. An interesting lawn game is played as follows: At the supper-table the wife remarks: " James, I want $10 to fix up my sum mer silk. Don't go away without leav ing it." James makes no reply, but manages to slip out of the house unseen. He is stealing softly across tho lawn to jump over the fence at the corner, when his wife comes rushing out and exclaims: " James 1 James J see here !" He begins to squint into a cherry-tree and talk about moths. " You walk back here and hand over that cash, or I'll send for my mother tc come and stay all summer !" According to the rules of the game, he turns and looks at her, and mutters to himself: "That wilts me 1" "The idea of your skulking off like that!" she continues; when he ad vances, hands out the "X," and, if he can convince her that ho had as soon give her $20 as $10, he wins the game Another out-door game is played be tween 10 o'clock in the evening and midnight, in order to avoid the heat of tho sun. It is played altogether by married people. Nilte o'clock having arrived, and the husband not having reached home, the indignant wife nails down the windows, locks all the doors and goes to bed, feeling as if she could smash ner partner in a minute and a half. Along about 11 o'clock Charles Henry begins to play his part in the game. He is suddenly seen under tho kitchen window, ne seeks to raise it. He tries another and another, but the sash won't lift. Then he softly tries all the doors, but they are locked. The rules of the game allow him to make some remarks at this juncture, and it generally begins to rain about this mo ment. As he gets under the shelter of the garden-rake, he muses : "Nice way to treat me, because I found a stranger on the walk with a broken leg, and took him to the hos pitah" As the rain comes harder, he boldly climbs the front steps and rings the bell. After about ten minutes the door is opened, a hand reaches out and pulls him into the hall, and the game goes on: " Oh you vile wretch 1" "Jarling, whaz mazzer whaz iz it, jar ling? 1 ' Don't darling me. nere it ia almost daylight, and I've shivered and trem bled, and brought on a nervous fever which may carry me to my grave !" "Jarling. I found a leg on tha side walk wiz broken man, and 1" This ?ame is alwavs won by the wife. Another, and the last out-door game to be described here, is called " Waiting for Her Darling." A woman waits for her husband to spade up a flower-bed. The Eastern question absorbs his whole time. She goes out to wield tho spade herself. The game is very brief. Sbe tries to dig in the spade by pressing with both feet at once, and when sho gets up and dashes into tho hoape she realizes that she rolled over three times and barked her nose against the iron vase, and that four carriages were right opposite the house at the time. She may have a speech to deliver when her husband comes to dinner, but the hus band wins the game it is so in the rules. Detroit Free Pre. A Man, a Pail of Molasseg and a Dog. A Uanbury grocery firm have taken the agency for a hammock. One of the articles they have hung at the front in tho shade of their porch. They hung it there as an advertisement, but numer ous peple have got into it to see how it worked. It hung so low they could easily sit in it, and undoubtedly the mo tion was agreeable and comfortable. But the grocers did not fancy this per formance, especially as the hammock- sitters were not hammock-buyers. Sat urday afternoon they removed the loop to one end from the hook, and fastened it by a bit of twine instead. Shortly a man came in for two quarts of molasses. It was put up in his pail and a paper tied over the top, as he had forgotten to bring a cover. When he passed out he saw the hammock. His curiosity was aroused at once. The grocers were busy inside, so he thought he would in vestigate on his own hook. With that keen intuition peculiar to a New En gland man, he saw at a glance that it was something to get into. He knew that it was nothing to wear, and was equally sure it could not be arranged for cooking, ne sat down in it. Then he swung backward and lifted his feet up. Then the twine fastening gave way. It was a dreadful affair. He had the pail of molasses sitting on his lap, and there was a dog sit ting under the hammock. Neither the dog nor the molasses expected any thing, any more than the man himself did. It was a terrible surprine to all of them. The man and the dog lost their presence of mind, and even tbe pail lost its head. The molasses went into his lap. and ran down his legs, aid swashed up under his vest, and insinuated itself some way in between himself and his clothes. And when he went down he hit the dog with his heel on tho back, and the dog was so wild with terror and amazement that it sent up a head splitting yell and fled madly down the street, having first taken the precaution to bite him in the leg, and to tip over a tier of wooden water pails. When the pails went down a lot of hoes were car ried over with them, and that started a box of garden seeds mounted on a box, and they in turn brought away a pile of peck measures whose summit was crowned with a " pyramid of canned to matoes. It was a dreadful shock to the man, and nearly paralyzed him with its magnitude; but, when one article follow ing another came avalanching atop of him, he thought the evil one himself had burst loose, and ho iust screamed as loud as he could. The molasses was all over him, and the garden seeds had adhered to the molasses, and he looked more like a hugo gingerbread stuck full of caraways than anvthincr else. In this awful condition he waddled 'home, and swore every step of the way. Danbury News. Stewarts Estate , Stewart provided in his will that all his business and the real estate directly connected with it should be inherited by Judge nilton, who had been his conn dential adviser for several years. All his other real estate he bequeathed to his wife. The actual value of tbe business and of the real property connected with it was not publicly known then, nor has it been made known since. The whole was estimated at $30,000,000, and I am inclined to think that fieure was not much out of the way. It included the wholesale house at Chambers street, the retail house at Tenth street, and, some twenty mills engaged in manufacturing fr tho firm. All the hotel property was outside of the business, and together with a number of houses in different parts of the city, went to Mrs. Stewart. Those who speak of decline say that tb business part of the estate is worth $5, 000,000 less to-day than at Stewart death, and some of tbem predict that five yeara more will produce bankruptcy. Such predictions, however, are some' times mere folly, and this may be one of that sort. The estimated value of the entire real estate in this city in 1875 was S10.000.000. This included the two stores, which wero supposed to be worth $3,000,000. The up-town store is built on leasod ground and tho fee is, there fore, not so valuable as might be sup posed. Deducting tho value of the stores, which became the property of Hilton, the real estate bequeathed to Mrs. Stewart was worth $7,000,000 year before her husband's death. As much of this property is situated in parts of the city which are steadily going backward, such as Bleeker street, Amity street, Ninth street, Pine street, and so on, its value has undergone a serious de cline since that time. Good judges say that at least $2,000,000 must be taken off for depreciation. They speak in the same way of the property at Hempstead, and with probably as much reason There is no doubt that the whole estate has shrunk several millions since Stew art's death, but then it is not by any means certain that the same thing would not have happened if Mr. Stewart wero still alive. Some very shrewd busines, men havo become bankrupts in the past three years. Aew iork letter, A Snake in the Eye. There is a horse at Penn Yan, N. Y. with a snake under the leDS of one of its eyes. The reptile is comfortably lo cated in the watery humor of the left eyo, is about three feet in length, per fectly formed, of a white color, and about the size of an ordinary darning feeuie. ji is piamiy visuue, ana is con tantly on the move, wiggling and twist ing in every direction. Its presence does not seem to annoy the horse in the least, and has evidently created no inflamma tion in or about the eyo. It has, how ever, changed the color of the eye-ball it being of a lighter shade than that of the right eye, and has affected the sight somewhat. The snake was first dis covered about two months since, when it was much smaller than it is now. How it came in tho horse's eye is a question which puzzles scientists. The above is told by the Penn Yan Kxpren. The snake may have been In the editor eye. Mrs. Elii Keats CnrTCHErt. a errand niece of the poet Keats, died recently in liouisviue, ivy. l'OOK J ICK. At Mount Desert one dar last auimber The cat-boat Fleur-de-lis Waa sailing like a perfect bummer, Close-reefd thongh running free, When one of I'hl ade'phla'a daug hU-r, The youngest of the Hhumway-l'oiiors, Bbid sbe would like to a e If abe ould Jtb, and, qntck as thought, Mb jibbed and snapped tbe tnant off short. ',() dear," sbe cried, struck all aback, 44 Vou will eicuse me. wont you, JackT" And Jack, although bis lip be bit, Ileplied, 4 Of course, don't mention it." Sbe chanced to play a game ef tennis At Newport once last fall. And, being clumsier than a ben is, Hne could not serve at all. And then tbe maid, wboae tresses rolled Adowa ber back in wares of gold, Qot mad and slammed the ball. It inisaed tbe net. but reacbM a pond Where turtlea wallowed far beyond. " O dear." sbe cried, struck all aack, 44 You will txcuse me, won't you. Jack? And Jack, altbough bis lip be bit, Kepi led, 44 Of course, d.n't mention it.4 Upon the sands of Pigeon Cove, Beneath the harvest moon. She dearly loved with Jack to rove, And now and then to spoon. And wb-n poor Jack, who liked ber well. Ventured bia tender tale to tell, Tbe pretty little coon. With U ardropa in ber bright blue eyea, Exclaimed, in sorrowful surprise, I thought you we-e a friend. Jack ; Yon wil excuse me, won't you Jack ?" And Jack, although severely bit, Ileplied, Of course, don't mention it." Harvard Lampoon. WIT AJiD HUM OH. Tite hen becomes a rooster when the sun goes down. Presidents and Chancellors always have their little vices. Why is the sun like a good loaf ? Be cause it's light when it rises. The spring overcoat, like the oyster, i has nearly reached ita pawning season. Mr. Budd asked her, " Rose, wilt thou be mine ?" Rose answered, " I am sorry it can not be a Rose can not be turned into a Budd." MTnEY tell me old Skinflint is losing his sight." "Put up job; he's going blind to sate his dog-tax. Blind men's poodles are exempt, you know." See," said a sorrowing wife, " how peaceful that cat anddog are." 'Yes," snid the petulant husband, " but just tie them together, and see how the fur will fly!" When a certain minister referred, in the midst of an eloquent discourse, to the nave in the church, three gentlemen offered their pews for sale, on the ground that he was becoming too per sonal. . . i ! A mild criticism t does one good. " What was the sermon about this morn ing i asked a mother oi her child. " Well, was the reply, '" it was about let me see it was about twenty minutes too long; that's all I remember." t "Pa," said a little bov, 5 years old, " 1 saw a lion and a lamb lying side by side in the meadow this morning." " Tut, tut, James. Don't tell such sto ries, said the lather, "l tell you 1 did," persisted the child; " but it was a dande-lion." Chicago Tribune. A share-holder A plow. The 2rst tanner The sun. A soft's nap A noodle asleep. An ice thing A Polar expedition. A "clear" case Jumping a bail-bond. To mako a man feel sheepish " Lam" him. ; ' '- Bootless attempt Trying to go bare foot - In writing, millers use floury lan guage. A pair of suspenders A brace of hangmen. A case of suspenderod animation A man with braces on. The man isn't very hungry who avers that he is above board. In very warm weather the schoolmas ter is the only man who keeps his collars straight. The discrepancy between pepper and good soil is One is ground fine, and the other is fine ground. The difference between a goose and some men is, that the goose never gets into hot water until it's dead. Cincinnati llrfakfas'; Table. A nod leJlow A policeman. A popular field ofiictr A kernel of corn. Hard times The time to leave our downy couch in the morning. Somehow, we do not hear of the graves of the physicians being robbed. Mary had a little lamb but it was very little in her boarding-house hash. There is a wonderful power in imagi nation, but it gets weak in the knees when it undertakes to shoulder circus lemonade. Sit down and think it over. Did you ever know a little man who could cut a watermelon or mako a motion at a caucus without an air of fussy im portance ? Science is making long strides, and tho present days will bo red-ietter days in the history of human progress. But we will never bo perfectly content un til some one suggests a plausible ex planation of the fact that "hand-picked" apples are always plentiest the day after a storm. Chicago Commercial Advertiser. Pattern women The dressmakers. The lawyers' paradise Sioux City. A typo who is a good pointer is a good setter. Harmless waves Those of ladies' handkerchiefs. v We say " laying hen," instead of "a lying hen," because she is on-nest. Why is a man with a natural footless leg like a mule? Because he is stub-born. When a man "spits cotton" is it a sign he has had to do with any cotton gin? The sting of a bee carries conviction with it. It makes a man a ready bee leaver in-sects. The reason why editors hate their manners corrupted in lecause they re ceive so many evil communications. Twelve youths have been sent by the Emperor of Morocco to be educated in France. Though bound in . Morocco, they are to bo lettered in Paris. A thief, in fleeing from his pursuer, slipped and fell on a piece of ice and was captured. This is what may be fitly termed " stern just-ioe." TnE Corrcotdcncia de Espana says that from tho beginning of the Cu ban insurrection up to January last 133,555 soldiers died in the hospitals from wounds or disease, and 12,500 on the fields of battle; 37,72fi were dis charged: and about 100.000 insnrgente j were either killed in battle or shot after I being made prisoners.