Y, JANUARY 3, 1893, n! Holly •» foHovt: —.30, 7.40,8.80, 10.00, u.ao >. 4.30.JkS), 6.10. 6.30, 8.00, .-tv im uu nutty a, a. — (few York, viaTrentonand Burlington _ 100.9.30 A. «., 1.00.4.00.5.U0 r. u. from Trenton, 7.41. 9.25,11.10 a. k , 2.53,5.20, 7.00 P. m. On Sunday at 6.40 a. m. From Burlington, 8.20,10.06,11.08 a. m.,3.32,5.46 From Brown's-Mills-in- the*Pines, 8.20, 12.16 a. u.1M. 5.45,8.05 r.*. Sundays. 5.00 r.u. from Pemberton, (north) 0.35, 7.42, 8.32. a. 12.19, 4.07, 8.11, 8.17 r. u. On Sundays, 3.00 a. u. FromPemberton (south), 8.38 a. m., 1130, 2.11, 4.50, 6.00, 8.19 r. u. On Sun days, 5.18 r.M. , „ . „ From Vincentown, 6.50, 10.56 A.M., 1.55, 4.00 From Hightstown, via Burlington,11.02 a.m. 7 02 p. M. STom Medford, 3.33. 11.55 a. m., 4.16, 6.85 r.u. On Sundays, 6.32 p. m. From Long Branch, 2.30 p. m. From Toms ttiver. 7.48 a . m., 4.12 p. m. From Island Heights, 7.35 a. m., 4.00 p. m. Chas. E. Pugh. _ J*- We»ch Haven, 4.56 a. m. 10.20 a. m., Tuesdays1 aidays, 3.55 p. m. dally en for Mount iiony, rpt Sunday. 3.00 p.m. “ys and Saturdays, on lor Mount Holly, 7.03 ,llv exoapt Sunday. Tues a. m., fAUt Holly Post Office. MALLS LSAVK AS FOLLOWS .* A. X. F. M. orkand East. ^Jfy^BerUm and Uightou** ■: nKH^Hniowu. SH^Bton. m^Kentown... . Iwign. West.. Atlantic City. Medford. Philadelphia . Burlington... en . erton. 7.10)8.30 7.10 8.30 7.10 j 8.30 7.10 8.30 7.10 i 8.30 7.10 8.30 8.30 8.30 8.30 8.30 8.30 8.30 8.30 4.1&I8.00 K.r&K.K.tCtCK'K.ttK.K-K) .88S'SS88'8S888 00 pc odob 00 00 OC ocooooccoo ■88SSS'88S'gS'?8 sand beady fob distribution : ▲. M. P. *• A. ATKINSON, "attorney at law, solicitor and MASTER IN CHANCERY. Ho. 109 Mam St., Opposite Washington House, Mount Holly, N. J. QUARLES M. SLOAN, FIRE AND LIFE INSURANCE. Office in Arcade Building, Mount Holly, N. J /•, BO HOE W. CHAMBERLAIN, D. D. 8. ’ NEW EGYPT, N. J. OfTiot DATS: Every Thursday, Friday and Saturday. Gas Administered. QKARLESEWAN MERRITT, ATTORNEY and counsellor at law, Mam Street^ opposite Arcade, Mount Holly, N. J. r H. CRAJHERi 1. SURVEYOR AND CONVEYANCER, Commissioner of deeds, JUSTICE OF THE PEACE, Cbdak Rim. oobam Comrrr, N. J. s AMUBL CALEY, M. D.. HONKEOPATHIC PHYSICIAN, Garden Street, near Cherry Street, Mount Holly, N. J. Omoi Ilonas : 7 to 9 a. n.. 1 to 2 r. it., 6 8 to r «. QNOBOE W. V ANDGRYBER, M. D. Bomoeooatbist, Garden St. near Buttonwood, Mount Holly. f Until 9 a. n. OFFICE Houbs: r UntU 9 a. n s: 6 to 8 f. u. t 1 to 2 F. *. Fire, life and accident insur ance. Reliable Companies and lowest rates. Cor yspondence solicited. 8AMUEL A. ATKINSON, General Insurance Agent. 109 Main Street, Mount Holly, N. J. _ flHAi. DARKER, D„ D. D. 8. deSTm, office and laboratori, Maik STKS’K'F, Mount Hollt, N. J. (Opp. Court House.) -GAS ADMINISTERED. Medford. Wednesdays. Hodge's, Wyeth's, Hoffs’ and Royal Malts at Jones’ Drug Store, MOUNT HOLLY, N. J. Best Attention Given Prescriptions First-Class Work; Reasonable Prices WILLIAM H. CLINE, FURNISHING UNDERTAKER! VINCENTOWN. N. J. Orders by Telegraph will be promptly at tended to. Mount Holly Academy, A BOARDING and DAY SCHOOL -*’08— Boys and Young Men. Apply tor our Catalogue, which contains full pertionlars and references. JS*v. J AMESi. COALE, A. M., (Princeton), Prlnctpal. OTOtKS ° BOUGHT AND SOLD on Commission and carried on favorable Terms. Being members of b >th the Phi ladeJphla and _ imgmembersoi o HI!ine I u uauc Iauu Hew York Stock Exchanges, and having a private wire direct from our office to New York, we are prepared to execute orders left with us promptly and satisfactorily. Ac delved andlnterest allowed. counts reoelv V DeHaven & Townsend, MO. 418 CHESTNUT STBEET.PmLADai.rBii M OUNT HOLLY 8KMINABY, Mias M- ADELAIDE ATKINSON. Pnnoipal (Opposite the Court House.) This well-known establishment for Young Ladles and Children, will re-otien on 8KP TKMBEB 19tb. The course of Instruction is most careful and thorough. Three bright, well-ventilated and carpeted school rooms offer exceptional advantages, being well fur nished with all latest Improvements. South ern exposure. -No "cross lights” to ruin the gnt. Two'regular grades in each room. IMay* ground, large and private. The Kinder nkrten Idea of “ ‘ --- ■ " garten Idea of combining the amusing and In Wresting with the Instructive, will be entered into more fully than ever, In the primary room, daring the coming year. Beef Wine & Iron, Our own mike, 00 cents a pint. >NES’ DRUG STORE tbs Fountain, Mount HolJv. place to town to get a glass of Water. Prescription* • Specialty Nor are Tooled Strange chewing Tobaccos, When they can get the old. reliable Vfhich is ^ARGER^anevw Each Plug full 4 ounces tTo^n finzer & Bros. Louisville Ky. ^ R. LIPPIHCOTT. GENERAL AUCTIONEER, MEDFORD. N. J. Special Attention paid to sales of real estate stock, farming utensils, etc. ^ DOKON, WATCHMAKER AND JEWELER, NO. 81 MAIN STREET. MOUNT HOLLY Keeps the bestassortment ot Watches. Chains, Bings, and Spectacles in Bur lington County. Also, a full line of Silver and Plated Ware. HAVE TOUR PAINTING DONE BY Samuel L. Bullock. Best materials always used. Pure colors, best White Lead and Zinc and Pure Linseed Oil. All kinds ol painting done; Sign, Orna mental, Frescoing, Graining, Calclmining, Glazing, Ac. Work solicited from all around. None but competent and experienced men employed, and all work guaranteed. All or ders should be left at my residence, Union street, or T. B. Bullook’s store, G rden street Mount Hollv It IN, COPPER AID NHEET-lROJg . WARE MANUFACTORY. The snoscrlber, thanktni for the past lib enil patronage the public, announces that he is still engaged in the manufacture ot Stoves, Heaters, Ranees, Tinware, Etc. A lull variety ot which will bekept oon sta ntly on hand or made to order at the shortest notice. Tin Roofing, Spouting, Plumbing, Oat and Steam Pitting Promptly attended to bv experienced work men W. J. BRANNIN, MAIN STBEJST. MOUNT HOLLY.N. Adjoining St. Andrew’s church. FRIZZINE. Will keepthe HAIK or BANGS in CURL from 1 to 2 weeks in all kinds of weather. Tnis is not a BANDOLINK or STICKY preparation and is au.>ul.u i i xiaiwu LES.S. Take no substitute. Sold everywhere, 25 oAnfs par bottle or bv mail 30 cents. FRfZZfNE MFG. CO.. 1001 Chestnut St.. Phila. Hire. Elizabeth Messer Baltimore, Md. Rescued from Death All Said She Could Not Live a Month Now Alive and Well—Thanks to Hood’s Sarsaparilla. “ I must praise Hood's Sarsaparilla, for It is wonderful medicine. I suffered 10 years with Neuralgia and Dyspepsia and fainting spell*. Sometimes I would be almost stiff with cold perspiration. I spent a great deal of money for medical attendance, but I did not get any benefit until my daughter told me about Hood s Sarsaparilla, and I began to take it. I weighed less than 100 lbs. and was A Picture of Misery Every one who saw me thought I could not live another month. But I began to improve at once after beginning witii Hood s Sarsapa rilla, and have gradually gained until I am now perfectly cured. I eat well, sleep well, and am iu perfect health. I owe till to Hood’s Sarsaparilla Instead of being dead now, I am alive and weigh 14a lb«.” Mrs. Elizabeth Messer, 19 East Barney Street, Baltimore, Md. HOOD’S PILLS are purely vegetable, per* fectly harmless, always reliable and beneficial. ' DO 'YOU ' 1C0UCH I don't delay |tak£ --iV KEMPS balsam It cures Colds,Coughs.Sore Throat, Croup. Influen za, Whooping Cough, Bronchitis and Asthma. A certain cure for Consumption in first stages, and a sure relief in advanced stages. Use at onoe. You will see the exoellent effeot after taking the first dose. 8old by dealers everywhere. Large bottles 50 cents and $1.00. Jones’ Soda Water, THE BEST IN TOWN. Fresh Syrtips of our own make. Try our Ice Cream Soda. JONES’ DRUG STORE, Opp. the Fountain. We, the undersignedwere entirety cured ot rupture by Dr. J. B. Mayer, *31 Arch St., Philade.lohia, Pa,, S. Jones Philips, Kennet Square, Ph.. T. A. Kreitz, Slatington, Pa.; E. M. Small, Mount Alto, Pa.: L. H. Kun* kei, 437 N. TenthS t., Allentown, Pa.; Kev. 8. II. Sberiner.Sunbury.Pa.jJ.U Fehr, 1021 Chest nut 8t., Reading, Pa.; D. J. Dellett, 214 8. Twelfth St., Reading, Pa.; J. Yates, 424 Vine 8t., Philadelphia; Wm. Dix, 1826, Montrose St., Philadelphia ; U. L. Rowe, 809 Elm 8t., Reading, Pa.; George and Fh. Bnrkart, 439 Locust St., Reading, Pa. Send lor circular. RUPTURE! B£PW J TAKE THE NEXT MORNING I FEEL BRIGHT AND NEW AND MY COMPLEXION IS BETTER. My doctor says it acts gently on the stomach, liver and kidneys, and is a pleasant laxative. This drink is made from herbs, and is prepared for use as easily as tea. It is called LAKE’S MEDICINE All druggists sell it at 50c. and $1.00 per package. Buy one to day. f ane’s Family .Medicine moves the bowels encb day. In order to be healthy, this is necessary. What is Castorla Is Dr. Samuel Pitcher’s prescription for Infants and Children. It contains neither Opium, Morphine nor other Narcotic substance. It Is a harmless substitute for Paregoric, Drops, Soothing Syrups, and Castor Oil. It is Pleasant. Its guarantee is thirty years’ use by Millions of Mothers. Castoria destroys Worms and allays feverishness. Castoria prevents vomiting Sour Curd, cures Diarrhoea and Wind Colic. Castoria relieves teething troubles, cures constipation and flatulency. Castoria assimilates the food, regulates the stomach and bowels, giving healthy and natural sleep. Cas toria is the Children’s Panacea—the Mother’s Friend. Castoria, “ Cagtorfa is an excellent medicine for chil dren. Mothers have repeatedly told me of its good effect upon their children/1 Da. G. 0. Osgood, Lowell, Mass. w Castoria is the best remedy for children of which I am acquainted. I hope the day is not far distant when mothers will consider the real interest of their children, and use Castoria in stead of the various quack nostrums which are destroying their loved ones, by forcing opium, morphine, soothing syrup and other hurtful agents down their throats, thereby sending them to premature graves/’ Da, J. F. KiwcHxnos, Conway, Ark. Castoria. « Castoria is so well adapted to children that I recommend it as superior to any prescription known to me. H. A. Archer, M. Ill So. Oxford St., Brooklyn, D.. N. Y. «Our physicians in tho children's depart ment bare spoken highly of their experi ence in their outside practice with Castoria, and although we only hare among our medical supplies what is known as regular products, yet we are free to confess that the merits of Castoria has won us to look with favor upon it.” United Hospital, and Dispsnsa»t, Boston, Maas. Allen C. Surra, fVes., The Centanr Company, TI Murray Street, New York City. Itzrastes Good i One reason why Scoff’s Emulsion of Pure Nor wegian Cod Liver Oil and Hypophosphites of Lime and Soda has had such a large sale is because it is “Almost as palatable as milk;” but the best reason is that its curative properties are unequalled. It cures the cough, supplies the waste of tissues, produces flesh and builds up the entire system. Scott's Emulsion cures Coughs, Colds, Consumption, Scrofula, and all Anaemic and Wasting Diseases. Prevents wasting In Children, Ali»o»t as palatable as milk. Cat onlf, the genuine. Pre pared by Scott A Bowne, Chemist*, Haw lark. Sold by all Drugatots, Scott’s EmuIsloiL. urns. Some men fcwe genius, some some glory ; John Milton has thebi all. Yet far more than this, for the very hame of this man must ever go down, e^en to the generations that are yet to (>ome, as the one above all others whose .pen has charmedant^Jb*wfldefe3-~-es ; the man whom tEe whole world loves; the great king of our literature, whose only rivals are the immortal Shakespeare, and in our own time, Lord Tennyson. Many have no desire to know this man; some cannot ; understand him, for he seems to have been almoBt more than human. As the giant of the forest, he is the mighty oak, which towers toward the sky of perfec tion. To read, and to read of, such men as these, is a pleasure which people differ ently enjoy. In reading an ordinary book we do not stop to study its author, but in cases like a treatise on “The Fall of Man,” ■ it seems that the author even excels his works, if such a thing were possible. John Milton was a man in every respect. ; So good; so true to men, to his country, to his God. Imaginations had no bounds for him, they were almost his realities. We are led by the magic power of his pen, not only in regions upon the earth, but far more; we are taken into hell, or ushered into the awful presence of the Deity Him self. So many great men have shone forth in our literature, that it is indeed bard to place any one at the head of the list. Scott was a noble man. He found him self famous, in the first place, because he rescued the ballad from oblivion, and sec ondly, on account of his numerous and in teresting prose works which followed. Many others could be brought forward, but Shakespeare and Milton seem to strive more than all others for the goal. As a genius Shakespeare has no equal, but Lord Macaulay has said : “John Mil - ton, the poet, the statesman, the philos opher, the glory of English literature, the champion and the martyr of English lib erty.” Such words as these, and from one so able to criticise as was Lord Macaulay, cannot fail to awaken in us a desire to know more of this man, who has called forth such fit and beautiful words. And still another has said, “Milton is as great a writer in prose as in verse. Prose conferred celebrity on him during his life, poetry after his death; but the renown of the prose writer is forever lost in the glory of the poet.” It was Charles Lamb who said, “Milton almost requires a solemn service to be played before you enter upon him.” He seemed to realize that, "As imagination nooies rorcn The forms of things unknown, the poet’s pen Toms them to shapes,ana gives to airy nothing A local habitation and a name." We might also apply a line of Sir Wal" ter Scott’s, and say, "Thewlzard note has not been touched In vain." How true these words are, for the vibra tions of the great string which Milton struck are still sounding on the ear, and should they die out, they would still send back fainter and more beautiful echoes. The ancestry of the poet is obscure in detail, though we know that his grand father, John Milton, was a Baptist, who disinherited his son for becoming a Church of England man. His mother was a gen tlewoman. The elder Milton seems to have been a peculiarly bright man and one of strong and forcible character. London scriveners were usually not idle, and such was his occn nation. He gained quite a considerable fortune, but not an enormously large one by any means, and he appears to have been a great lover of the arts and literature, and t is well to note one point here, namely, that when he found his son to possess such rare powers and literary tastes, he was not only able, bat willing to foster all of his son’s desires in this line. In fact, John Milton has himself said, “My father destined me, while yet a child, to the study of polite literature, which I em braced with such avidity, that from the twelfth year of my age I hardly ever re tired to my rest from my studies till mid night.” John Milton was born on the 9th of December, 1608. A few words of preliminary history must introduce him to the reader. Some one has well remarked, “His pen was as sharp and effective as the sabres of Cromwell’s Ironsides.” Upon the death of Queen Elizabeth in 1603, James I. as cended the throne with the highest no tions of kingly prerogative and of a church establishment; but the progress of the English people in education and intelli gence, the advance in arts and letters which had been made, were vastly injuri ous to the autocratic and aristocratic sys tem which James had received from his predecessor. His foolish arrogance and contempt for popular rights incensed the people, thus enlightened as to their own position and importance. They soon began to feel that he wa# not only unjust, but ungrateful; he had come from a rustic throne in Scot land, where "he had received £5,000 per annum, with occasional presents of fruit, gram and poultry, to the greatest throne in Europe; and besides, the Stuart family, according to Thackaray, “as regards mere lineage, were no better than a dozen Eng lish and Scottish houses that could be named.” They resisted the illegal taxes and forced loans; they clamered against the unconstitutional Court of High Commis sion ; they despised his arrogant favorites; and what they might have patiently borne irom a gallant, energetic and hand some monarch, they found it hard to bear from a pedantic, timid, uncouth and rick ety man, who gave them either glory nor comfort. His eldest son, Prince Henry, the universal favorite of the nation, had died in 1612, before he was eighteen. When, after a series of struggles with the parliament, which he had reluctantly convened, James I. died in 1625, CharleB I. came to an inheritance of error and misfortune. Imbued with the princip les of his fa ther, he, too, insisted upon "governing the people of England in the seventeenth century as they had been governed in the sixteenth,” while in reality they had made a century of progress. The cloud increased In blackness and portent; he dissolved the parliament and ruled without one; he imposed and collected illegal and doubtful taxes; he made forced loans, as his father bad done; I he was artful, capricious, winding and I doubling in his policy ; he made promises without intending to perform them, and | found himself, finally, at direct issue with his parliament and people. First at war with the political principles of the court, the nation soon fo.’ind itself in antagonism with the religion and morals of the court. / - Before the final rupture,' the two par ties were well defined as Cavaliers and Roundheads. Each party went to ex tremes, through the spite and fury of mu tual opposition. Loyalty was opposed to radicalism, and actives ot bo)b were bitter In the Sialism and t juuisfiy, spirit oi ex cess, wr M ■any me, took me woi puu ceptjui any | those ofl Hat-, as the lan guag^ JPerctfUrBe, which is suea** K too my countenance, id often with a false with a dhH interpretation. There came out from among the Pres byterians the Independents; the fifth monarchy men, shouting for King Jesus ; the Seekers, the Antinomians. Even in the army sprang up the level era, who wished to abolish monarchy and aristocracy, and to mingle the ranks in one grand whole. To each religious party there was a political character, ranging from High Church and the divine right of kings, to absolute levelers in Church and State. This disintegrating process was long re sisted by the conservatives of all opinions, but, at length, the issue came, and the king was a prisoner, without shadow or sign of power. The parliament was still firm, and would have favored the king by a consid erable majority, but it was surrounded by troops, and more than two hundred of the Presbyterians and moderate men were ex cluded. The crippled parliament then ap pointed the high court of justice to try the king for treason. Charles I. fell before the storm. His was a lost cause from the day he erected his standard at Nottingham, in 1642, to that on which, after his noble bearing on the scaffold, the executioner held up his head, and cried out, "This is the head of a traitor I” Milton came into the world to find him self face to face with this awful storm, which was shaking the entire kingdom from its foundation, but yet slowly pav ing the way for future liberty, and for which the great poet himself did so much. Even in his earliest childhood, Milton seems to have been aware of his great gift of learning, and a desire to learn; he seems to have been conscious of su perior powers, and even as he began his life’s work, everything combined to aid his genius, and to spur him on to that great success which was m store for him. He must have led the life of an ordin ary London boy, surrounded by a little more than moderate circumstances, until be first began bis studies with a tutor. However, when Thomas Young had done all that he could for the boy, he was sent for several years to 8t. Paul’s school in London, where he studied on. Even at this early age he was a hard worker, which we admire, as well as re gret in his after life, for he has told ns that this continual study "was the first source of injury to my eyes, to the natural weakness of which were added frequent headaches." His mental powers must have developed very rapidly, for at the age of sixteen he had entered Christ’s College, at Cam bridge. His course while at this institution, would no doubt correspond to a classical course in our foremost universities, yet he really went so far beyond his years, that he had read and translated some works which the other students could hardly hope to begin. Overwhelmed by a strong desire to know well the classics, and as some one has told ns, “poetical lit erature,” he equally disliked the i%y sciences which were at that time forced upon him. To him these did not compare with the higher and more fully developed knowl edge of the ancient and modern writers. Undoubtedly he did not then know that he was to rank in the near future among the greatest of epic poets that ever lived. The dislike for the sciences soon grew to hatred, and he expressed his feelings upon the subject so freely that at one time he was involved in serious trouble with the college authorities. But then we read that the disgrace could not have lasted long, for he received both his degrees at the customary time. During his life as a student he did even much more than to tend to his regular work, for while he was at Christ’s College, he wrote a number of poems in Latin, and his famous "Hymn of the Nativity,” was produced as a college exercise. In these lines he took up the old, old theme, and when he sang his song, it was like an echo down the ages, still distinctly heard from the plains of Judea, on the night of the Magi pilgrimage. Jean Paul Richter wrote, “If we can often repeat to ourselves sweet thoughts without ennui, why should not another be suffered to awaken them within us still oftener.” The simple fact of bis being able to write poetry in Latin at his age, furnishes us with ample proof that his mind was far above the average in natural talent and in early and thorough developement Milton evidently realized this, and seeing the bright future that was before him, even alter leaving college he determined to store bis mind with such an abundance of knowledge, that in alter years he would have much to draw from, in the way of the| best education it was at that time possible to procure. Accordingly he re tired to his father’s country seat at Hor ton. in Buckingham, where he spent five years in the clesest kind of study. The object of hie seclusion seems mainly to have been for the purpose of disciplining bis mind, for the hated sciences were now taken up in earnest, and likewise the higher mathematics, while he found pleasure in bis compositions, and also in dulged in music; and that he bad a pas sionate fondness for the art, the rhythm of his verse bears ample testimony. Here we see that he gave up all else for that self discipline, which be gained by the most difficult kind of work. For one to sit down and devote his time to some thing utterly distasteful is a task from which we would all shrink ; and yet he kept on, never wearying ; never tiring of the drudge he had undertaken. His music, too, must have aided him much, for it could not but have the effect of bringing out all that was refined and cul tured. It must also have spoken to him of human feelings, which he bo beautifully portrayed in after years. It must have | awakened him to the good and true, I to the beautiful in nature, revealed on | eve-y side around him. During this time he had not been idle, and among his works of these years the most i mportant are “L’Allegro,” ‘‘II Pen seroso ” “Comus,” the “Arcades,” and "Lycidas.” This last poem was fiercely condemned by notable men of the day, and Samuel Johnson declared that, “No one could have fancied that he read ‘Ly cidas’ with pleasure had he not known its author." Dr. Backus says, “But few who read the poem will accept such a criticism. For force of imagination and exhaust less beauty of itnageiy, it ausweia to a true pv> i etical senplb!!!ty." “L’Allegro’’ and “11 t'enseroso” are two | widely known worts, and being nearly of the same length, they appear to be al-! j most counterparts, “L'Allegro” breaks I forth with the -joy of youth, and the amusements, life *pd occupations of a joy j ■' . . * *$£ Hjj^l^iviai nature. ‘‘TTPenseroeo’’ brings out the other seri ous and thoughtful side of life. These are the works of his seclusion at Horton ; they are drawn from *fae great poet’s fancy and imagination, not from his personal observation. Some one has said, “His joy is without frivolity; his pensive thoughtfulness was without gloom, They are intellectual studies of emotion, not its irrepressible utterances.” The great historian, Hume, said, “It is eertain that this author, when in a happy mood, and employed on a noble snbject, is the most wonderfully sublime of all the poets of tbe language.” His time spent on the languages had not been in vain, for in the composition of Latin and Italian verse, Milton has had no rival in the history of literary work in England. His classics truly are classics, and in them we have all the beauty of ancient rhyme. "Shakespeare, Spencer, Sidney, and the inferior poets had writ ten sonnets, some of a high degree of beauty, but it was reserved for Milton to transplant into his native country the Italian sonnet in the highest form. He has seldom chosen the subject of love; religion, patriotism and domestic affection are his favorite themes ; and most of them are ennobled by that sublime gravity which was characteristic of his mind.” The man who could do all this was not without a reputation, although as yet his name was not very widespread. Time was beginning to make him realize the great future that was before him. He was to occupy a position in the history of the world, which had never before been filled. Many a time during his years of study had he expressed a desire to visit the con tinent, and at last bis long cherished idea was about to be realized. He went for a pleasure trip, and great men gave him in troduction to great men in the cities which he proposed to visit in Francs, It aly and Switzerland and he received every respect which was due him. This was in 1638. To be continued. HOUSEHOLD BREVITIES. —Cranberry Jelly.—Strain the juic, Tom stewed cranberries and to everj pint add one pound of sugar, boil, skin and test by dropping into cold water. When it does not mingle with the watei it is done.—Practical Farmer. —Brown Corn Cakes.—Scald one pinl of fine corn meal till all wet, then add cold water till a little thicker than grid dle cakes. Add a pinch of salt Brown in butter or salt-pork fat on both sides, then put them in the oven on the grata for fifteen minutes to become crisp.— Boston Budget —Ginger Snaps. —Place in a sauce pan one teaeupful each of molasses, sugai and shortening and bring to a boil. After boiling two minutes, stir in an even tablespoonful soda. Pour this liquid over three pints of flour, add a tablespoonful ginger, mix, roll out thin and bake in a quick oven.—Orange Judd Farmer. —The silver moth is sometimes an in tolerable nuisance It may be got rid of, however, by a thorough cleaning, painting cracks in the room with a lit tle corrosive sublimate or common ben zine The creature is said to come from dampness in the cellar or around the building and is quite likely to be found in buildings heated by steam, where there is any moisture—N. Y. Tribune —Naples Bread or Biscuit.—Flour one pound, nice fresh butter one ounce, worked into the flour, with one egg, a little salt, good yeast two tablespoon fuls and one pint of milk. Mix ail well and let rise one hour; then do not work it down, but cut it in suitable sized pieces and form' into biscuit and let rise, then bake in a quick oven. If baked in a loaf, you have Naples bread. —Ohio Farmer. —Johnny Cake.—Two teacupfuls of corn meal, one cupful of flour, two cup fuls of sour milk, half a cupful of brown sugar, one egg, a half teaspoonful of salt and one teaspoonful of soda When the cake begins to brown, dip a clean rag in butter and baste all over the top; it is a great deal better. If the sour milk is not to be had, sweet milk with baking powder will answer for a sub stitute.—Country Gentleman. —Stuffed Eggs.—Six hard boiled eggs cut in two. Take out the yolks and mash fine. Add two spoonfuls of but ter, one of cream and two or three drops of onion juice; salt and pepper to taste. Mix all thoroughly, and fill the eggs with the mixture. Put them trw gather. There will be a little filling left; to this add one well-beaten, egg. Cover the eggs with this'mixture and roll in cracker crumbs. Fry light-brown in boiling lard.—Detroit Free Press. —Plain Chicken Fricassee.—Cut up the chickens, and wash well in salt water, put them in a pot with enough cold water to cover them; add (for two chickens) half a pound of salt pork, cut up in thin strips; cover and let heat Very slowly and then stew until the chickens are tender. Cook slowly; if they cook fast they Roughen and shrink. When almost done, add, if desired, a chopped onion or two, some parsley and pepper; cover closely again, and, when heated to boiling, stir in slowly a tea cupful milk containing two beaten eggs and two teaspoon fuls flour; boil up again, and add one tablespoonful good butter. Arrange the chicken nicely in a deep dish, pour the gravy over and serve hot—Household Monthly. —Mince Meat for Pies.—One cup chopped meat, one and one-half cups raisins, one and one-half cups currants, one and one-half cups brown sugar, one and one-third cups molasses, three cups chopped apples, one cup meat liquor, two teaspoons sqlt, two tea spoons cinnamon, one-half teaspoon mace, one-half teaspoon powdered cloves, one lemon (grated rind and juice), one-fourth piece citron, one cup cider, three teaspoons rose water. Mix in the order given, using enough of the meat liquor to make quite moist, and cook in a porcelain kettle until the ap ples and raisins are soft. Do not add the cider and rose water until the meat is cooked. Meat from the lower part of the round that has a little fat and no bone is best.—Boston Herald. EVENING CLOAKS. Pretty and Comfortable Garment! That Mar He Worn With Dre«»e» of Vny Color. Ermine capes in the flowing military shape, with a high turneil-over collar and a lining of mauve of pink moire, are of any color. In some models the ermine is gathered full about the should ers to a yoke, and in others a waistcoat front is added to give great warmth. Bengal ines and the corded Muscovite silks of very light shades of rose, blue, or mauve are made up in large circular cloaks with a Watteau fold in the back and a cape falling below the waist trimmed with four rows of white mandar in lamb fur. Other opera cloaks of light cloth have three separate caps of cloth untrimmed, but the garment is lined throughout with white man darin lamb, and has a high collar of the same fur. A magnificent cloak of pale gray-blue velvet with panels of brocade of harmonizing colors in front and back has a high wired Elizabethan collar and a cape falling to the hips bordered with two rows of dark brown mink. Evening cloaks of reasonable prices are made of very light colored camel’s hair brocaded in a design of acanthus leaves, lined throughout with white mandarin lamb-skins, with a hood and jabot collar of the fur. These are handsomer than Russian circulars, as the fitted back requires merely an un der belt of sJJJbon to tie them in shape, snd the hu^ collar reaches up to the ears. in pearl gray, pink, and pale^^^^ndes. —Baroer^ Bi BUILD WELL. High on the granite wail, the builders, toil tag. Heaved up the massive blocks and slab* to place, With swart and streaming brows and strain ing sinews, tender the summer’s blaze. And higher yet, amid the chills of autumn Tier upon tier and arch on arch arose And still crept upward, coldly, wearily, ’Mid winter’s sifting snows. From stage to stage up springs the master builder. Instructing, cheering, chiding here and there; Scanning with'seruttny severe and rigid Each lusty laborer’s share. Anon his voice to those most distant shout ing Through the hoarse trumpet makes his or ders swell; Or utter words like these to rouse anc hearten: “Build well, my men, build well! “ The ropes are strong and new and sound the pulleys; The derrick's beams are equal to the strain: Unerring are the level, line and plummet; Let naught be done in vain! 44 Build that these walls to coming genera tions Your skill, your strength, your faithfulness shall tell; That all may say, as storms and centuries tes< The men of old built well!" And ever thus speaks the Great Master Builder To us where’er our “Journey-work” may be; “ Whate’er the toil, the season, or the stmo ture, Build well-build worthily!” —Christian at Work. “ IN BORROWED PLUMES. ” How Mr. Barker Appeased a Fa ther’s Wrath. “Charlie!” called young1 Mrs. Barker through the bathroom door, “here's a letter from Tom. Shall I open It?” “What’s that!” returned Mr. Barker, sitting bolt upright in the tub, with cold, fresh water running from his head, neck and shoulders. “A letter from Denver. Shall I open it?" “Certainly, and read it to me, will you? I shan’t be out for ten minutes.” Then the young woman, standing in the passage outside, read as follows: Fop Is on to you two. Be found me reading your last letter. Ma and he's coming east to morrow. 1 guess he’s loaded for bear, boy, and you’d better clear out. Pop and ma mean biz, I tell you. You'd think so if you’d seen the spanking I got. Yours ever, Ton. Charlie Barker had consulted Mr. Hanson, it is true. Questioned closely as to his means, he had had to own that be was only a broker in a small way In Fine street. Being flatly refused the privilege of Installing Miss Evelyn Hanson in his bachelor apartments on Twenty-third street, he had done so without the old man’s permission. He had now to settle for this breach of privilege with the old man himself. No wonder he felt a little nervous. But all Evelyn’s western blood was up; all her western independence was flashing in her eyes. “If you’re not quite scared to death, Charlie," she said, "perhaps you’ll be good enough to open your friend’s, Mr. Van Lith’s, letter. I see It’s his writ ing,” and she handed him a neat little note on pink paper bearing the Van Lith crest, a Dutchman on a dyke, with two demijohns full of schnapps, rampant. The young broker broke the seal. He started up in a minute, his face won derfully brightened, his eyes aglow with excitement. “The luckiest thing that could have possibly happened," he cried. “Van Lith’s going down to Newport; places his house at our disposal; servants, horses, everything. Liberal? Well, I should say. But he’s going away for a month, and Van and I were at Yale together, and—upon my word, he’s the best fellow In the world. ” But Evelyn didn’t seem to share his enthusiasm. “Oh, you don’t see it yet. Look here, I’ll explain. We move into the house. Your father arrives. We’ve made a lucky scoop in Wall street. I didn’t tell you because I wanted to test your af fection and all that sort of thing. The old man is angry, of course, but soon forgives us when he discovers I am wealthy. Then we entertain him roy ally, and when he’s really found out what an excellent fellow I am then we confess. God-bless you, my children, and it’s all right. See!” Evelyn nodded. "Go on,” ishe cried, encouragingly. “There isn’t anything more to be said,” answered Mr. Barker. “Aotion’s what we want. It’s half-past ten now. Ike- tyrant of Denver will be here in side of an hour. We must pack and clear out at onoe. ” “You stop calling popper names, or you’ll do all the packing. You’d be angry yourself if you’d lost such a treasure. I am.” She made a little tempting mouth at him across the breakfast table. In half an hour the pair were in a cab on their way to Mr. Van Lith’s house. Ann remained behind to care for the flat. Van Lith’s old colored butler stood at the door to receive them and follow his master’s instructions: “Treat them just as if the house was theirs, Joe." A ten-dollar bill and a whispered conference with Joe soon let him into the secret on what the young broker joyfully informed his wife was a “rock bottom basis.” Old Mr. llanson’s wrath had had time to cool considerably on the jour ney from Denver. It had flared up again when he had traced his runaway daughter and her husband to the un pretentious down-town flat, but being informed by Ann, duly primed for the occasion, that her master had made a large fortune in Wall street and had taken a very handsome house in an aristocratic quarter, his ire had mnch abated. “When did you make your pile?” was Mr. Hanson’s first question. “Oh, months ago,” replied Barker, with horrible effrontery. “Your daughter married me for love. I gave her both love and money. That's the way it should be. Let’s go in to lunoh. What’s the matter, Joe? Is’nt it ready?" The old darky took him on one side and whispered; “Mars’ Charles, thar ain't er scrap er meat in the house 'oept what’s been done got fur the servants’ dinner.” Mr. Barker rein alned gazing at the old fellow for a f ull half minute. The situation dazed him. “Can’t you—can’t we have that? What have they got for dinner, any way?" "A nice roas’ of mutton.” "The very thing, Joe. Serve it im mediately, an’ hero, you folks buy something more for yourselves. Wo mustn’t keep the guests waiting.” Ho handed the darky a dollar and the old fellow slowly pocketen it. “Serve luncheon at once,” ordered Mr. Barker, who was becoming Impa tient "What are you waiting for?" "Lookahere, Mars’ Charles," said the old man, slowly and deliberately. “Hev you any ijee what that mutton cost?” “I can’t say I have. A dollar, per haps. ” “The ign’ance of some people," con tinued the darky, “is inoompren'slble. That mutton’s worth ten dollars if it's worth a red oent butseein' as how you don’t want it—■" He was turning away when Mr. Bar ker stopped him. It began -to dawn upon the young man from Twenty third street that he was being black mailed. "Here's your ten dollars, you black rascal.” He took the money from tala pocket and banded it to Jos. “Bring us up a couple of bottles of elaret,” be said. "I’ve got to buy ’em, tab. That’ll Kit you five dollars more. It's mighty od wins and one an ash.” j •‘You black rascal”—iie “That eapresshun will two dollar^ Mars’ Barker, call a ‘specible servant no bla You’d better put up de cash, an’ wine, and dem tings is apt mighty quick in this bouse uud succumstanoes. ” liaricer saw ne iw tics. He put up an^B without a murmur. Mr. Hanson and^H parted upstairs tQjgm “It's awful,^ she passed ble. "Mao the Van tvful, "A d h*M„ tie uranK lessiy to pain coura^^M and gorged himself 01^ nincn. ..us. natison, ne ui'^h liim suspiciously; and old them with a broad grin on his^^H countenance. “If this hind of thing keeps up for a week I am ruined," he said to Evelyn as the day finally closed, and at last he saw his wife’s parents safely re tired for the uight. “I’ve an idea mother already suspects something,” said Evelyn. "I’ve a good mind to take her into my confidence and confess it all.” But this proposition alarmed him more than anything else. “Don’t do that. I’ve got four hundred left yet. Let’s stick it out. At say forty dollars a day, hoW long can we hold the fort?" “Just ten days!” “And in ten days then, it is either flight, the North river, or the morgue.” “Ten days is a good long time,” re plied Evelyn “I shan’t worry myself so far ahead. Good night I’m off to sleep. ” Eight days of the ten had elapsed. The Barkers, with a courage bom of desperation, had “stuck it out” They had become accustomed to their new position, and, despite their failing means, Charlie sometimes even fancied himself rich. The Hansons were delighted with their new son-in-law. No words in the English language were expressive enough to sing their praises. They had driven here and there, been taken to all the theaters and feted every day on the fat of the land. They had been made to feel their importance. The Hansons, of Denver, had never en joyed themselves so much in their lives. Barker was nearly crazy. What would he not have given to be back in Twenty-third street, and, if he must be shot for running away with old man Hanson's daughter, at least have the satisfaction of dying like an honest man. On the morning of the ninth day he found a letter on the breakfast table. Old man Hanson was there with his famous appetite, eating eggs which had cost fifty oents apiece and ham which had been purchased from the blackmailer’s at a dollar a slice. The letter was from his father in Bos ton and read as follows: Mr Dear Chart.es—Your mother has just learned from Mrs. Stewart, who arrived In Bos ton from New York yesterday, of your late good fortune In Wan street I always knew you would fall on your feet, and you can now afford to laugh at those who have hitherto called you the fool of the family. Meantime you may expect us by an early train to-morrow, os we are anxious to see our new daughter. Your affectionate father, Horace B. Barker P. S.—1 send this to your new house In Fifty seventh street, which Mrs. Stewart tells us you purchased of the Van Lltb estate. She says it fs a splendid property. I hope you got a bargain. It was the last straw. Unable to re press his fe elings, the miserable Barker uttered a load groan and rushed from the room, nor did he stop until he had reached his chamber. Throwing himself into a chair, he buried his face in his hands and re mained for some time in a condition almost approaching stupefaction. He was aroused by a light touch on his shoulder and looked up to find the door closed and old Joe standing over him. “Don’t you be a blamed fool, Marse Charles. Don’t you go an’ give it yup. You’s doin’ splendid. I’s been talkin' to de people downstairs an’ dey’s all agreed you’s a daisy." Barker raised his head and stared at the man in blank surprise. “VVo’s ain’t goin’ to pinch you no mo’, Marse Charles We done it as much fo’ do fun dere was in it as fo’ de cash. Now you gets everything at mar ket price. You’s a daisy. ” The love of human approbation is tne gainspring of a great deal of Human t udeavor. When Charlie Barker heard himself called “a daisy” lie took new heart. In five minuteB lie was a man again. He went back to the breakfast table and told another falsehood—about having a sudden indisposition. He was now determined to see mattere through. Suddenly there was a ring at the bell. “A telegram,” said Barker, aloud. “Perhaps to say that father and mother can’t *come. How provoking-’ but in wardly he rejoiced with an exceeding Joy. He tore open the-envelope, and the sight of that telegram nearly occa sioned him a relapse: “We are coming home. Mrs. Vao Lith quite Kick. Expect us to-night. “P. Van I.ith. ” “That settles it,” muttered Barker. “If ever Van Lith gets into this house I’m done for. He’s as straight as a string. And his wife, well, she wouldn’t tolerate such a fraud as this for a mo ment.” There was no time to consult Evelyn. He must act at onoe. He went out in the hall The boy was still there. “Have you a telegraph blank with you?” he asked. “Yessir." Then he wrote: Don't oome. Smallpox fn the house Evelyn, I and the servants are In quarantine. Am writing. Charles Barker The boy looked at the telegram, read it, and bounded to the sidewalk. He didn’t stop until he reached the corner. Barker was now desperate. He was in such a state of mind, and had so far committed himself, that he was ready for anything. His parents arrived from Boston in time for lunch. He received them roy ally. He partook of deep potations. He laughed with his new father from Denver; he slapped his old father from Boston on the back. They all got very jolly. Dinner was a right merry meal. The ladies had retired to the draw ing-room. The two old gentlemen had made terrific inroads on Van Lith's wines. They each took a hand of Barker’s in theirs and swore he was the jolliest fellow in the world. “And you like me all the better be cause I’m well fixed,” laughed Barker, hysterically. “Rich or poor,” said Mr. Hanson, of Denver, “it wouldn’t make any differ ence to mo. Only give me an honest man and one who speaks the truth, for I despise a liar." Then Mr. Barker, feeling that the time had come, arose somewhat un steadily on his legs and faced the gen tleman from Denver, who was mellow and smiling with wine. “You have a right to despise me, then, Mr. Hanson, for I am a hypocrite and the biggest liar on the face of the earth.”; The old man started as if he had been shot Something in the oxprescion of his son-lu-law's faoe told him that this was no joke, but he wajw»peaking the truth. “You a'n’t bin tellln’ us wrong about j your torching, have ye?” he asked, i slowly, relaxing into the vernacular of j his early mining days and with his face I gradually growing purple with anger. ; Charlie Barker, for answer, put his j hand in his pocket and drawing out a { solitary twenty-dollar bill he laid it on' the table. “That’s every cent I own in the i world," he replied: “But this house; aU this fine furoi tur’,” almost pleaded the old man. “That's vaur’n. ain’t *t* - j out to Di*i| self. ” •'You 1 “1 must' up the me around hi] what I’ll i Charlie put capitalJ it aa ■ "It’s ■ aal i obje'ci ver; and other across 1 The man shook it heartily. "Then we forgiv of us?” ' won t some pj»iwTOi asked a mtoScal voice way. 'Tmihalf forg-iven just confessed to mother mg-room.” J rm en all her id "Yes, we ll»'lneiude you.” old man Hanson, “and you well, for not being sharp 1 detect yon two fraudB fron first. I despise a liar, but I’n if your husband ain’t a da Barker, how did you intend ! this with your friend Van Litn "1 shall write him to-night I count of the whole matter, fo too happy to go to bed, and I til le my story ‘In Borrowed —Austyn Granville, in Chiet t FEET TOO SMALL. Many Women Perfectly Formed as to Their Feetv.'' j corridor of the Southern the and discussed the human fot says the St. Louis Globe-Dena| "It is not true, as the world suppose, that ideal statues a sites. Ves, I have read thal vise a number of models for 01 copying the head of one, th Louis Xavier, a Parisian making a tour of Amen another, the limbs of a third. Some sculptors may ~esor~ t ridiculous patchwork, but I i effect would be far from pleasingl “Perfectly formed women are] means so rare as generally sup Not one woman in a dozen seriously deformed by tight; me mgn-neeiea snoes, mat played such havoc with shapely have about gone out of fashion, perfectly formed female foot is rara avis. The world appears to adopted the Chinese idea that smaller the foot the prettier it the result is that perfectly are cramped and abused of beauty is left. Now any artist, will tell you that small to harmonize with th« actual deformity. I would the foot ton-large, if it he shapely, too smatr Think of a Juno who five feet seven inch as'and tips at one hundred and fifty pounds ing to and fro on No. 1 or No. She should wear a No. 4 least, and a No. 6 would proportion. “Lfke the foot, the monize with the body. A utttg-Btrs of a hand on a lusty Minerva, who tc ers up nearly six feet ?-vU. Is shock: to true artistic taste. Iiid you ever a man whose nose was poo small for face? Well, it is just acjieeessary t the hanil and foot shoulM' ie In harm' with the figure as that l°e nose sho fit the face. Some d«y people i learn ihji., and ths& as many pet will wear padded shoes as now 1 along in footgear a size too sra Madam will then be as much ashai of a hand too small as she now is of too large.” CURIOUS OAR FERRY. Railroad Cara WIU Be Carried from S igan to Wisconsin by Water. A ear ferry across Lake Michigan be one of the curiosities this seasc navigation. Within a month the i will be established between Frank the Michigan terminus of the To Ann Arbor & Northern Michigan road, and Kewaunee, Wia., v through connections will be made the Winona