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'TWAS WHILE I MUSED.
'Th blle 1 mused the fire buiurd, I thonght me or the data sou ty; Tbe ash of mv youth inured UloweU like bright meteors Is tbe iky. I M7 tbe dew apon the gras; I touched It to my tender feet; And to my lips I raised a cuss Brlmfull of life, and It was tweet. X law a mornlnjc dipped In col l; Bright hopea like flowers every ber No tongue bad yet as to me tola That aorrow brooded lu tbe air. The tun arose with warmth and cheer; A tone alipp-d out with every breath; Tbe little brook that murmured near Ne'er lintel a word of com lug death. My heart beat atRb, It knew do wound; A atranger was my aoul to grief; With Jovousnesa the day whirled round; Alaal that it ahould be ao brief. O embert bsrn, In brightness burn; , LJght once again fond mem'ry'a be'artat To.1 that' gd my nopea I turn, but not to tbta poor flertlug earth S. H". IfoTti, in J uter Ocean. The Sweetheart. Ym won't take iuy advice, eli?' said Uncle Gerald. He looked down at me with a faco which was a curious admixture of an noyance and amusement. I looked up at him with defiance. Uncle Gerald and I had always been on the best of terms siueo. at the ago of eight years, I had been bequeathed, a helpless orphan, to his care, by t he dead father who had nothing else to leave, unless we -except an accumula tion of debt which took my undo the best part of ten years to settle olT. I loved him dearly nnd he has always made a pet of me, clothed me, so to peak, in purple and lino linens, and borne with my childish faults and feelings with a patience which certain ly was exceptionable in the case of a middle-aged bachelor. But now on my n neteenth birthday, wo had como to an open ruptnre. No. Uncle Gerald. I won't!" said 1. There's eome subjects upon which no one could lecido as well as a girl her self, and this is one of them." "Viva," said he, you are making a mistake." Uncle Gerald." retorted I, "I'm willing to risk that." He is too reticent. Viva too dark browed and niyKterious." I don't object to that, uncle," said I saucily. And I. for one," he answered, "shall never consent to bestow my niece upon a man who is not ready and willing to explain his whole life, past and present, to me, and if nothing more, give me rome sort of reference as to hie character, standing aud abili ty to maintain a wife. My eyes fairly flashed with indigna tion. Uncle Gerald." cried I, "I have far too much confidence in Alan Fair brook e too much respect for him to CO prying into his antecedents, and do folding a reference as if bo were a discharged coachman!" But, Viva, be should himself men tion these matters, without waiting to be questioned." urged my ancle. And so lie would uncle, did he inspect that such unwarrantable doubts rere entertained in regard to him." Take ray advice, Viva," said Uncle Gerald, shaking hit bead. "Wait a lit tle. Do not give your whole life into his keening until you know something more of him. Remember what you are risking." I know that I love him and that he loves me, and thin is suflic ent," said I, with the buoyant contidence of girl hood. Uncle "Gerald said nothing more; it would have been of no use; and I tripped away to arrange the apron full of roses that 1 had been holding nil of this time in the great old fashioned china vaes in the parlor. I'll marry Alan Fairbrooice in 6pite of all the world," said I, triumphantly to myself. Mr. Fuirbrooko had come to Welland village a stranger. He never exactly made tin statement in so manv words but the impression hud in some way gained ground that he was an engineer come to survey the ground for a newly firojectod lioe of railway. He lived uxurouslv at onr unpretending littlo hotel, dress! in black broadcloth, with diamond studs, posed himself in as many Hamlet like attitudes, as if he had made a Plcly of Edwin Booth, and took ail the feminine hearts in the village by storm. And when one evening walking by the ravine, wliero the Welland It ver made its way through precipices of vine-draped rocks, he told me. after the prettiest and most romantic fashion that he loved me me, a penniless orphan, with nothing in the world to recommend me but a dimple in my cheek, chest nut brown ha r, and two porcelain eyes. I could hardly believe in my own marvelous good fortune. And so we were engaged and Uncle Gerald's d sapproval was the only drop of bitterness m my overflowing cup of blius. You shall never marry him with my consent," said Uncle Gerald. Then I'll marry him without," said I, audaciously. "And what is more, Uncle Gerald. I will not stay here and hear my futuro husband" (I couldn't help blushing a littlo as I spoke the words) "abused and slandered even by you." 4 "Where will you go?" he asked. " "To Clara Elliot's. She has often asked me to visit her. 1 could be her gust now until I go to a home of my own." Uncle Gerald hold out both bis hands with an Involuntary gesture of plead ing affection. "And sre all tho years that wo have been like father and daughter to go for nothing? ' sa d he. sorrowfully. Of course, I'm very grateful and all that sort of thing." said I pouting and defiant, "but nothing can weigh against the impulse of the heart." I went awar. I knew perfectly well that I was cutting Uncle Gerald to the heart, but I cared little for that. Alan Falrbrooko was all in all to me now. Clara Elliott received me joyously, I'm so glad you've come, dear' said ibe. 'l In-! vou. and I was Inst going to wend for you. I'm gci'g to bo married, Viva." So am I, cried I. Olara and I hugged each other. Show mo his photograph, dear," said Clara eagerly. Of course I will if you'll show me his." 1 drow a sccntod envelope from my pocket. Clara took from her writing desk a crimson velvet case. Clara uttered a shriek tho instant she saw my treasured carte do visile, wIiosh senseless p ctured lips I had kissed so manv times It's he!" cried she. "My Alan!" It's my AlauV'retortod I indignantly- Look!" deo'ared Clara, opening her picture. I did look, and I precoived that the two pictures were identically the same. It's a mistake!" said 1 growing pale. A mistake! Nothing of tho sort!" said M ss Elliot, bridling up. He gave it to me h mself!" "Alan Fairbrooke." Yes, Alan Falrbrook'!" "It can' t be possible?" said I. hys terically. "Because he's engaged to me." ' "Viva Maurice, vou are craz ! said Clara. "No," said I, beginning to compre hend the nature of the d lemma a 1 ttle, I am not crazy; but it s.-ems that this .lan Fairbrooke ha been playing .J ! oth fale. And-1' , Alan both "Halloo ?ried the voice n Dr. Kit tot, below '1 H stairs; "como down here. Hero s a pretty kettle of hsh. Tho Hail v Mirror lias come, with n picture of Ihe embezzling bank clerk who ran away from Chicago with his employer's bonds and securities a month ago. And as true as 1 live, it's your blackeyed friend, Fair brooke!" Ho came up stairs with the news paper in his hand, and there, in black aud white, were the false ami Irand some features of Alan Fairbrooko Alan Fairbrooke branded as a knavo and a felon! "Has has he been arrested?" gasped Clara. "Not he. Dnl you ever put salt on a bird's tail? He'sYleared out bag aud baggage, leaving a bill of $5) unsettled at tbe hotel, and nobody knows how masv little outstanding accounts hero and there. Our a and I looked at one another, pale and trembl ng. Oil, papa!" said Clara, lie took niy diamond r ng to have it reset in Paris an stvle "Arul I gave him my watch and chain to be repaired when next he went to th c ty," gasped I. The doctor Iwirst out laugh'ng. Never n nd. girh, never mind," said lie. "Diamonds and watches aren't of so much consequence it's well you 'didn't give him yourselves, fur good and all." Ami mortilied ami disappointed as we were, we could not help perreiving the sense and justice of Dr. Elliott's words. I went home to Uncle Gerard, hum bly entreated his forgiveness and onco more put myself under his shelter and protection. He kissed me with all the old tenderness. "Never mind, my love," said he. "Let bygones be bygones. We'll be gin the world over again." I don't know whether Alan Fair brooke was ever brought to justice o not. But I do know that neither Clara Elliott nor I ever saw anything of our trinkets again. And upon the whole, we came to the conclus on that we had had a lucky escape. Why the Doctor Drank Champagne. There is a great and celebrated phy sician who invar. biy prescribes for hi patients-one dish aud one glass of wine. The other evening he chanced to find himself dining with a patient on one hand and a staunch toetotalar upon the other. The patient, who through many woary weeks had followed the dreary curriculum of a dish nnd a glass, watched hks physician to see in wlial manner he dined, but was h ghly in censed to find that the doctor ate and drank heartily of everything that came before h m. -At last he burst forth: "Well. sir. ou certainly do not practice what you preach. Why, vou have eaten of ererthing on tho menu." "Yes, yea." aid tho doctor testily, "but what is a man to do who runs about all day and comes homo at night with twenty or forty letters to answer? lie must have a bottle of champagne." Here the teetotaler burst in angrily, saving: But doctor, do you mean to tell mc that a man is better ablu to answer twenty or forty letters when ho has a bottlo of champagne? ' "No," said tho doctor, "but when ho has had a bottle of champagno he does not caro a d c whether they aro answered or not." Jit. Louis Jlepubic. At the Wrong Window. A good story is told by tbe Troy (N. Y. ) 'Units at tho expenso of tho Amherst College Gleo Club. About ten years ago the club made a trip through New York State, and sung in Roches ter at the samo time that Kate Pen noyer, a pretty stage 6ingcr, was there. After the concert it was pro posed to serenade tho lady, and tho club proceeded to her home and struck up tho familiar college hymn, "Dear Evelina," paraphrasing tho chorus thusly: "Dear Kte rennorer, 8eet Kate reunojer, Our lore for thee fcball neTer, never die." After singing tiitf entire song the boys waited a moment for a recognition of their serenade. Slowly a window in the third story was raised, later a man clothed in robes of whito and with whiskers a foot long was seen, and then a bass solo was wafted down to tho collegians: "Dear Ikjvs blow there, Pwwt 1ots tetow there, Your Katfl Peunnyer Uvea four drors below here." As the last words of his song died on the frosty a r, the Amherst College Glee Club gathered themselves up like Arabs and as silently stole away. THE DOCTOR'S WIFE. A Tuiinc Mother Forced to sre Iter Unby IHertetl. "That is our most remarkable pa tient," said one of tho attaches of Longviow Insane Asylum to a reporter for tho Cincinnati Enquirer. Lunatics of all ages and of various decrees of madness wore grouped about. He was pointing toward tho window, whero a woman was seated, leaning forward in tho attitude- of ono who is observing something intently. She was clad in a simple black gown. The graceful lines of her form and tho shapoof her slender hands, which were clasped loosely in her lap, showed plainly hor youth. Yet her hair was white as now. Her face was one nev er to be forgotten. It was not fresh and white, as ono would expect in a young woman, but a deal and lifeless ashen gray that contrasted strangely with her snow-white hair. But this was not what in ado it remarkable. Tho range of expression of the hu man features is almost unlimited. But the expression of this face seemed to transcend tho power of even human features. In overy Hue, in every swol len vein and muscle, in the great star in", distended eyes whose pupils were expanded tint I only a tray ins could bo distil dilated nostr.ls, ,,, the nervo lino or listinguisbod, in the compressed and 'pallid lips that seemed to bo ever sup pressing a cry oi anguisu mat ever rose to thorn, horror, absolute and un utterable horror, was written. Agony, terror, misery too profound for fears, were there also, but high abovo them all could be read thin frightful horror that soemcd to only faintly express it lelf. At first one would think it was a mask that some marvelous genius had jarved. But then tho humanness of the expression was too apparent. The soul that was thus giving vent to itself was too near at hand. Terrible indeed was the picture presented by that quiet, patient, almost girlish form, and then, as it were, frozen." In his private otlico ho told tho story of how the young woman become thus transformed into a living and breath ing statue of horror. "I think when I have finished," jaid he, you will agree with me that hers is the saddest, and at the samo time the most frightful story you ever heard. She was brought here about two years ago by her older brother, who re lated all the particulars to me. I told him then that hor case was probably incurable. Sho was left with us w.th the instructions that no expense should be spared in making her comfortable. That was two years ago. She was then nineteen. When not quite eight een she was married to a young physician of her nativo town." who, br skill and attention, had gained an extensive practice In every way they fseetned happily mated. Mie was beautiful, of a happy disposition, and had been ugaged to him since early childhood. "He tiad sufficient wealth to make the match desirable from a worldly point of view. Yet her relatives had always looked on the engagement w.tli disfavor. Tboy warned her that there was insanity in his family, and that he h no self was Subject to tits of melancholy,' but she laughed at their warnings aad married tho man she loved. Nothing could have been hap pier than the tirst year of their mar ried life. He was no longer melan choly, and seemed to be more devoted with each passing day. In June the joung wife lcaruo a mothor and there was new joy in the little family. The young physician loved his child passionately, for its own sake and be cause she was its mother. "As the first anniversary of the wed ding come round they determined to celebrate it with especial rejoicing, as it marked an era in their happiness. Tho evening before it was tho even ing of the I'Cth of August the young physician for the tirst titno since his marriage seemed melancholy and de pressed. The summer had been hot and the demands upon his services manv. II s wife asked him somo ?uestion aud he censured ra patiently. almost harshly, tears came to her eyos. Jnsiantly repented, and all sunshine aga n. Presently she "I am going to mother's a her Tho Ho was said: fo w minutes to tell her to como over carl to-morrow morning. Take caro of baby while I'm gone. You need not como after me, as I shall be homo iong before dark. She spent an hour with iier mother, then started homi through the dark. Tho walk was phort and the neighbors soon saw her Iiass in at her own door with a light, iappy step. Exactly what happened in the physician's houso that night will never bj known. Tho next morning early tho mother, accord ing to promise, came over. Knocking at tho door and finding it unlatched she walked in. 'Annie! Annie!" she called. Her daughter d d not reply, and tho mother went up tho sta is thinking to tind her in her bedroom. Sho opened the door. Tlie room was br lliantly lighted with gas. and tho blinds were closed. The horrified wo man almost fell over tho body of hsr son-in-law, sprawled upon tho floor in a great pool of blood, witlf hs hand some fce set wh'ito and gastly. A fearful gash across his throat and a dissecting knife in his right hand told the story of suicide. The mothor screamed and looked wildly round, ex pecting to see the dead body of her dau;her also. Tied to the bed-post, with her hands behind her back and a gag across her mouth, was Annie, while her faco was just as you saw it to-day. Tho wide, staring eyes were gazing at something. Tho mother tnrned to see what it was. She saw a light that mado her bury her face in her hands, and reel, s ck and faint, to chair. The table had been drawn close to tho woman bound to tho bed. On it was the body of her little child, and, horror of horrors, the father had dissected it before its mother's eyes. Its bead was severe I from the body; its eyes gouged out and hung down npon Is waxen cheeks. The brain had been taken from the skull. The clothing bad been torn from its body. and with the skill and nicety of a phy sician's hand, the father had removed ! tho entrails, heart and lungs, and laid them in a heap at one side. "This was tho scene that tho gas lighted up the anniversary day of their wedding. Through all tho hours of the night tho mother had gazed on that sight. With facinated eyes sho had watched tho maniac fathor at his bullish work. With hideous interest her oes had been glued ou tho sjwe ticie wlnlo sho was powerless and dumb. Probably sho had necn him recover his senses, and, real zing what he had done, tako his own life nnd spare hers. Then with not a soul to comfort her, she stood there hour after hour with hor dead. Do vou wonder that the horror of it is branded on her From that dav to this she has not spoken to anyone. Whether she' hears, or thinks, or understand. oan-, not bo sa d. She submits passively U 1 her attendant, following where she is-1 led and eating what is forced through her lips. There is one lime when sho speaks however. Jt is the evening bo fore her wedding anniversary. Thai has come around twice s nee nbo has been here. The first timo her attend ant called rr.e. and we stool outside, her door. I never herd anything likej it. and I 1ioik I never will again The, lips that had been closod on that awful night were opened. The plead ings, the entreaties, tho anguish, tho) wild despair of her utterance would haj e moved a heart of stone. SndJ denly there was a wild scream of con centrated awe and horror, and all was, still. We rushed in. expecting to find her features relaxed, and, perhaps, heij pillow tear-stained But no; there she lay, quiet and still, with set and rigid horror in her face. j "Such is the history of our strangest patient." As the reporter and superintendent left the oflico a female attendant pass ed with the unfortunate woman. She walked with the slow hesitating step of the blind, her gazo fixed on some thing in front of her. And her faoo wore that awful expression it will wear until death moldurs It away. She was soon out of sight, but the memory of that pallid mask of horror will remain indelibly stamped on our mind until the end of lime. Recompense. Stralebt through my heart this fact tod Ily Truth's own band Is driven; Gi never takes one tiling away, But something el?e Is (jlven. I did not know In earlier years This law of love and kindness; But without hope, through Utter teari, I mourned lu sorrow't bliudtu-. And ever following each regret For notne departed treasure, Mr nad, replnluif beart was met With unexpected pleasure. I thought It only happened ao Bat time this truth has taught me; No least thing from my life can go, But something else Is brought lue. It Is the law, complete, snMlme, And now, with faith unshaken. In patience I but bide my lime, U hen any joy Is taken. No matter If the crushing plow Mar foT the moment down me; Still back of it waits lxve, I know, With so'iie nw if t to crowa in -j. K li H hre'er Wtlctx. A Powerful Cannon Magnet. A most interesting electrical experi ment has recently been made at the engineering station of the United States army at Willett's Point, L. I., by Msj. W. It. King, of tho Engineer Corps by which he transformed two fifteen-inch Bodruau guns, weighing 50,000 pounds eaclu into an immense electro-magnet. The guns were placed side by side, and joined at the breech by a number of pieces of railroad iron. The guns were then wrapped separate 1 by fine insulated copper wire, over eight miles of it being used. The wire used was an old torpedo cable consist ing of forty 6tnall insnlatcd wires bound together into a cable of about three-eighths of an inch in diameter. The electricity was obtained from a twenty-arc light Weston dynamo. A number of experiments were mado with this most powerful magnet and it was found that a force of 20,600 pounds was necessary to overcome the magnet's attraction and draw tho arm at u ro from it. A siring of four fifteen inch shells, weighing 320 pound eacli, was suspendedfrom ono of the guns. It was discovered in the course of the experiments that there was a po nt in the bore of the guns, and seven and one-half inches from tho muzzle, where tho magnet repelled instead of attract ng. Small pieces ol iron were propelled from it with force, while a .shell plated at that point was rolled slowly out of tho gun until it dropped from the muzzle and wai caught by tho attracting force at tho faco of the gun. It is thought that the power of the magnet would have lcen greatly in creased if more wire had been used in tho wrapping and if more railroad iron had beeu us-d in connecting the guns at the breech. Xetv York Mail. A Curiosity of Arkansas. Another curiosity in tho plant world is a peculiar kind of weed which grows in the Arkansas valley. It is shaped like a boll and varies in sizo from one foot or less in diameter to livo or six feet, some spocimens being as tall as man. When ripe these balls snap ofl their stems and go tumbling over tb prairies with every gust of wind. They present a verv strange appearance, and in tho distance hunters have mistaken them for bisons. Often they come bounding along in hundreds upon th hunters who are compellod to crowd upon the ground to escape being hurt St. Louis Ulubt'Dcmocrat. A Peculiar Diet. Small boy (to grocery clerk) Come, can't you get my things? I'm in an awful hurry! Mother wants them for supper!'' C!erk"What will you have, young man?" Small ly "A bar of Ivory soap and a quart of Kerosene." Detroit Fret IVett DOCTORED WATERMELON. u Infuvloii of Wine mid llrniuly Malt the Fruit 'J nte (!ood. Xow that tho watermelon season is on ji its full glory, and the story that astiko tad stopped tho importation has turned ut unlruo, a word may bo in season Is to how to prepare a melon for lating. There ar many ways of eat fug tho splendid fruit, and tho recipes renerally given aro long and intricate. There is ono method so easy that any &no may follow it. (Jet a good melon, tnd if ou can't tell yourself by that :ntuit:on which is the best guide in uch matters, then trust to your green foods grocer's judgement. Have the aielou put on ice over n ght,and in tiio Morning seo that the surface is wiped iry. Then cut a slit with a long knife itraight from ono sido into the very beart of the melon. Let the slit bo an inch and a half wido. Cut three other il its so that ton can lift oat the plug thus made. Pour into tlie hole somo food claret. Let it spread through tho red spongy fnut, and pour somo more wine in until )ou have succeded in tetting in at least a pint of the grape uicc. Then plug up the melon and put it back into the refrigerator. Af ter an hour or so. vou can put in the rest of a quart of claret. The melon will drink up tbe wine ind every part of the sponge will be come saturated if from hour to hour iho position of tho big egg-shapod fruit oo changed from side to s-ido and from tnd to end. The wino should bo put in from six fo eight hours before din ner timo. An hour nnd a half before dinner take out the plug and taste the Iruit. You will find it surprisingly Jelicious and yet perhaps the llavor will be not quite so nronounoed as you would like it. In this event pour in from half a pint to a whole pint ol brandy. Sec that Ihe melon is closely wrapped up and have it turned at least twice and kept on ice for tho next aour. It will tuen be ready lor serv ing. Sometimes it is pleasant to surprise juests with a plugged melon. Say nothing about wine having been put in tho fruit, ami when it is brought on ! the table take care that if m tho cutting myjextra juice conies from tlie fruit that tome ol it shall rro wan eacn piece oi melon. There is an odd littlo Ital an restaurant in a place in this city whero ono night not long ago a plugged watermelon was served. ono ex cept one of tho diners knew about it When it was brought on and the party began tasting what appeared to bo an ordinary watermelon, there was in itantly noticed a chango in tho de uieanor of every one. Ihe snitleil in the air and looked at oacli other, and than sniffed aga n. There was no sus picion then that tho watermelon was of a more than ordinary kind. But after two or three mouthfuls somo one remarked tho peculiarly rich taste and the exquisite aroma, ana then no secret was out .there weren t many people in the party, and the melon was a Jairlv big one, but it was all eaten, every bit of it Notwithstanding tho splendid offer ing to the palate that plugged water melon makes, it is remarkable that not many people have esten it, and that you can't get it readily at the hotels and restaurants. Unco in a while some chef puts forth watermelon fritters or freozes the fruit, but even if these forms were not costly ami difhcult to obtain they would soon tire tho appe tite. Willi watermelon soaked in wine it is different. If you like th fruit in its plain state vou will probably like it better with claret and brandy, and if vou like to eat lots of it plain you will want st 11 more of it "plugged." A good wino to use instead of claret is the Italian sherry-colored wine, called Marsala. Perhaps with a din ner where much claret has beeu drunk I the Marsala would go better as afford I ing a contrast in taste. If you get j genuino Marsala you will have some , thing good, and you can reflect that the wine comes from that celebrated 'spot in Sicily which, now known as Marsala, was originally Lilyboeni. tho I place whore the Carthagenians had their chief fortress in lrinacria. .New York Sun. A Handsome Surprise. The departments of the United States government aro usually decorous places carried on with solemnity and d'gnity, and not given to scenes; nevertheless, something occured at the pension of fice not long ago, which makes ono wish Dickens were alivo to do it full justice nobody else could; but still it is too good to lose entirely. Tho usual work was going on in one of the rooms, when suddenly a sound of bumping and thumping became audible, and then a struggl.ng. thump ing, irregular no sc as if a ?oct;on of stono wall were trying to walk upstairs nnd found it needed moru jo uts than had been suppose i. It grew louder and louder, and was accompanied onco in a while by a faint sound of a voice remonstrating as if the stone wall took it hard and wanted to give it up. It drew nearer and then stopped outside tho door with a HiihI bump and thump; nnd a sort of a triumphant grunt from tho accompanying voice. Then the door opened and a man with sweat standing on his forehead, throwing the door wide open, engineered with another series of thumps a large, flat white stone arouud in front of tho es tomshed clerk, and said, "There!" in triumphant tones. "There! now per haps you'll believe me. 1 brought you papers and allidavits no end, and you wouldn't believe them. Perhaps you'll believe this whon you see his tombstone. There you read it, 'Sacred to the memory of J S . Krected by his bereaved widow.' His tombstone is here before your eyes to provo he's dead, and now perhaps you'll believe it;" nnd he sat down and wiped his forehead. Tho astonished clerk rea I tbe epi tnph, but without tho crestfallen air the advancer of tombstones expected. A gleam of a smile appeared around his eves and at the corners of his nioutlu He turned to n man sitting near, a man with a damsged'looking face, aud with clothes the worse for wear, and a lame leg done up in a frowsy way with coarse bandages. "Well, I wouldn't adhought It of Sarah Jane," and lie smote his other leg with a fat band, bristling with hairs. 1 must hay it's handsome in her all the same I m glad I ain't under It. 'Tain't often a man reads his own epitaph;" and lie turned to tho other who had brought it in. witn a rougu grin, an appreciation oi me scene com ing over him. u vou meant to Jeavo iier you ain't dead?" stammered the other. I ain't half dead, 'n I mean't to leave hor till I heart! she was gettin' a pension on my merits, 'n I cowldn t land that blie a-roiimg in luxury and mo a hard workin man. 1 ve como back to roll, too, or else apuil her fun." The advancer of tombstones arose and prepared to withdraw with his strong proof. Of all the mean men-and thn no paused, unable to think of any parallel, and a thought occurred to him. You'll be wanlin' this some time; hadn't you better be taking it against the need?" But the damaged man waved it away "Tlie date would be wrong. Washington Letter. Daasou Why Men WhiUle. Whistling was invented to give n man a chance to add a noiso to other other noises in creation. Iho other noises in nature are all attuned to the character of tbe article that produces them. The breeze makes its gentle sigh, tho brook has its peculiar 6ound, the storm has its crash and its roar. Kverything mado a noise in tlie world except man when he was alone A man can't talk to himself; it is idiotic, although it is astonishing how many people do it. A cough is not a very enjot abi e sound, and it irritates tho lungs to produce it, A snezj always goes with a cold in the head True, a man can sing; that is. he can try to sing, but if it is at all agreeable it seems somehow to be wasted if some bod" has not paid an admission fee to hear it That's whv women have such a teriible ruputation for talking. They can't whistle, and they have noth ing to relieve tho restraint when the aro alone; so when they get hold of anvbod the make up for it Ihit whistling was invented to con ceal music. You don't need to have music in your soul to whistle. It is simply tho noiso of a vacant mind. Tho loud laugh of Oliver (Joldsmith that bespeaKS tho vaeant mind applies to a crowd. The whistlo shows the vacant mind in its solitary state. When you hear a man whistle who pal pably does not know a tune, lie is either a good fellow or a bad fellow. Did you ever notice that Jews don't whistle much? They haven't got much vacant mind. When it isn't needed in their own business they rent it to oth er businesses. But of all whistlers the young gentleman going home about 1 o'clock in tlie morning, who whistles "II Trovatoro" with all the band parts, takes the bakery. .S i i Franciscy Chronicle. About Noted Hmchbakci Hunchbacks form a tolerably numer ous list, says a writer in tlie Gentle wii'i Magazine. There is that brilliant soldier, the Marechal de Lexemburg, of whom Macaulay writes in one of his most finished passages: "Highly descended and gifted as he was, he had with difficulty surmounted tho obstacles which impeded him on the road to fame. If he owed much to the bounty of nature and fortune, he had suffered still more from their spite. His features were frightfully harsh; his stature diminutive; a huge and pointed hump rose on his back." The reader knows the hunchback Richard of Suake?pjaro'8 powerful drama, but historical research seems to have delivered the king from his burden and to have shown that he was only high shouldered. Lord Lytton, in his "Last of the Barons." has adopted tho modern v.ew: "Though the back was not curved," ho says, yet ono shoulder was slightly higher than the other, which was the more observable from tlie evident pains he took to diguiso it. and tlie gorgeous splendor, savoring of personal cox combry from which no Piantagenet was ever free that he exhibited in his dress. The great minister of Queen Klizabcth, William Cecil, Lord Burleigh; tbe learned German theolo gian. Kber, our "glorious deliverer William 111.;" tlie famous General of Spain, tho Duke of Parma, these were all "crook backs." Tho poet Pope had a protuberance on the back and in tho front, and one of his sides was contracted. tyiay Was Always Shrewd. An incident that occured when Sen ator Quay was a toddler six years old will serve to illustrate tho innate shrew ness of tho man. His father, who was a Presbyterian miu stcr, brought home a 1 ttle pocket B ble and a tin sword one day and offered young Matt his choise. Malt wanted the sword and he wanted tho Bible. But tbe father meant to give one of the two presents to tho lad's sister, who was a year h's junior. Young Quay reasoned to him self that if he chose tho Bible and left the sword to his sister the latter would soon tiro of the weapon, it not being a girl's toy, and he would then get them both. He selected the Bible, and in a few hours his sister had discarded the sword. Vhiladtlf hia Record. Following Instructions. "Remember, Bridget," said Mist Clara, "that I am out to everybody but Mr. Sampson." A little later Bridget answered a ring at the door. Who was it Bridget?" asked Mist Clara. "Young Misther Beauneeamp, mum." "And did you say that I was out?" "Yi; I ae'd yez were out tc iverybod but Mr. Sampson." Sett York Hun