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Ii YR. IIII _ _C ii _____ __~i~ VjVHI._____ BENTON, MONTANA SATURDAY, APRIL 14, 1883. O. 3. I---- _________ ___---- _____--~--~~ ^--- NO. 38.-------I A tL(OO riTA;ti-Pr;cIIli) \W IF.; f A Dolnestlic )Draima in '"Puric"h'" 30 YVar- Ago. ( SCENE I.. [Mrs. Biddy Chan;ltticle-r .,r:ltchls fa: her breakfast. O. (Chint-leer, E-ql., front a the top of the tamtr fence, bcomes cog. i Z:tttt of lthe fact, ali strutcs with dignity towanri hi= litle oi-c.'ii t 1i ltlv.-. ;od lnornitg, Iy dar." S t. t. lEsq.---" Iorning, ltU l:tttll (lilt' s ellj.viln y t, lf' 111 Idale of -ouilrlse, 3110 1 art, it awar:te of tile- mt that I have been up nltor- tltan an hour, itt hlave not ye t .:,t a mouthful ! I-' this hat I married a ' ftr , ,t,!::*'n! ? (iv." her :a Iotnted s:;lte on the lankie.} Where are your tt, roe- ti qualitiis rinadlal ? [l r.ltitit s : I ima:lk of lf;'t'ction oni thii, tot, of htir 1t, ..] r 1Vhtire is yo!lI -nmile (."' \wlt wlti l( wihen (,i v saw 111e g ttintg ofl the fence? I wattChet e you, mt:tit:t 1h,'i re w;;s your tender I female slici t !tie \\ hell youll held nil t lookintg w :,kly for want of a:t little notr- iI i.,hlnent ? ". dre. I repleatt, is liy break- i: fact ? (ock-a-doodl'-do!" Biddy (ieikl'y) "have a worm, ,ear? " O. C. Esq., (,oletnuly)-"I will." St'EN:E IIt. [Mrs. Biddy C'hanlti(c-her lays her first egg and has ilvited two or three femal friends t9 cackle, 0. C., Esq., being ab sent.] Mrs. Biddy--"Cat cut, cut, cut-a-a ! cut. cut-a-a-a-a-cut! M:'. '.:rtn tt--"(Q.a, qua, qua, eat-aV-t It'uptptd by the suddent aitaritancte of O. c'., l':l., whto has just treltlired from a stag 1 . '., -- -" 1:ck-:a-doodle-do ' Now I my Ittatelnce be voueh-af-id line to ask of0 you, n i:ttte, what does all this mean ?t llHee aii I returit"ii h, car''W( ( ttitil Cx hau-ted, from the ex-itailntt~ -it ad teletip tatitoins of a tltin-ive worltI, expectin. toi fiud ireiCpose and eae in the iieti of tIie t domestic nest, in-tead of whlihtli I dlis covvr yso in the midlt of riot and di-sipiatio . Ma:d:itne, itsulllt not my llien tra:titln It d - nyviig it--I affirm that you are having a party . Mrs. Biddy (apprehesiav'ly --"- ' tit all, lily clear; at least, that is, my blend were just (oi ig Iy, iand sttilpped ill quite ntc id,.nt:all)', ani so, fo V you se, li;v d tir. I've lid ai ean g--o tt. ent. -it-a-.---t ltt is. at lnst. ye. sit", we'ie lail ant .t " ' Ti 'lir f- ale I tI i t.b.r. simvi;ii t-lil!-l - "Cut-. l t, cut, el -'l-:a-a-e l !'t O. C. E-q., (aii 'j- i-ti tly) - "P' . ' it he ,!a - Il: ld: nlie, t .w hal t floes all tl is c.I ck ling fidly uio al? ( Ixeunt r l tl t i ts l n tigditr atio .) "Mr1. B. C., it has becime i.tic -..ary, at this stage of our tiiatritllltnial tiir'ir.- , 1it I I shouid state, ill mild i )b it Ittii-ta-.-atle terms, my opiltiOins regat-diin g the alplro priate sphlere :ant duties of eltlih,,ol : Fiirst sell-devotion - "It hai heetin the decision o(f all roosters-kinid for :age,, andtl therefore cannot be denied, that tlie crlowitilig virtule of thie hien chlarcter its disirltt-rest(tedness. A tul ' hliCi sllittI lli. I paticnt, s-ll'-forgetftil, olbedlieit, tenrtderly I soli]itous of her hitrshItand's little waitlt:.i de lighting wlo!lyv andi solely ,11 the g ac-,ful and pleasaniit ditiees tiiht ciu-ter roulid the domestic nicest. Oit tle colitrl'aryi, I findltd you thinlking0 ol- hIow to gr-atify your ownl selfish tastes anld d-sires instea(l of dis- I playitng (a's nlight n:it, urtlly be txpeted) i some little selise of lonelin ss anli telileil- I ciholy at youril hit.ltbllli's absenlce;: I returr i I from a visit of ine:rlv 12 tloulr-s, and find i1 you literally rtejicing ! Madamllle, I ask of you, is this true henhood ?" Second-"A retiring pokitiotn, a delicateC shrinking from conttact with the enat'se :and 1 uusymptathlzintg world, :tt exclusive in- i differelnce to all witlhouit the sacred circ'le of tile domestic nest. O thie o('oltrarrv, I llitd yoei gaddinag ailniig rhie other hels of tile yard, making apltointtrents, sending invitations. Again, I ask of you, mad ame, is this trite henlhood ? Third-" Freedom rom curiosity. A t true hen never evinces the slightest inter est in the affairs of her neighbors, scarcely in her own; she never inquires concern ing the whereabouts or actions of her I husb:ad, being perfectly assured that, wherever he be, and however appearances 1 at times may tell against him, he is ever 1 acting wvth a view to the welfare of the I domestic nest. "On the contrary, what do I find to be the truth in regard to yourself? Not a rooster raises his voice within half a mile of the yard, but you are able to name him; not a hen lays an egg but you begin to cackle." Mrs. Biddy, (meekly)---"I have laid an egg! Cut, cut, cut-a-a-a. No, I mean, sir, we've laid an egg." O. C. Eq., (with solemn animation.) "You've laid an ezg ! And pray, where is the thing?" [Walks briskly to the nest and takes a microscopic view of the ob ject.] Biddy---"Cut, cut---I mean will it do, sir?" O. C., E-q.--' Inlmph---well, e,, very fair considering; though now I look mort closely, I perceive that it is not pre-iseli. shaped ; too .hort, m;idalue, too short, not well finished off by any useans. And whalt do you mieanl nttadalie by having the thing so lmuch large.r at one end than at the other? Where, I :-k, is your idea ot symmetry ? Zun ls! .Madame, if this is the best you c:u4 do in that departmeitt, I shall lay the next nmyself." O. C., E-q.---,'And now, sweetest of hens, farewell. and may all the stars or0 heaven, andt all the saintsa of the barnyard, meet to register the day when your smile fi ' , t i lerl l i m yu i Ill w iet ry l, , lii:'e iie the lappir st t'f roosters. Fare w el].", 0 C., windsl his ih.omewilrd way.-- '"Goo i eV('eliting, . "t ii m olllltrous filu hen, that. .Ju-t been Iparting tr'm her. Or m:,y be you idid not notice her flo(. points. Quite fond of me too, I assure you. Still in tears, you will observe-- ahem! Cock- i-doodle-doo!" [0 C., rleactle the domestic nest.] M1-. Biddy (teebly)-- "Oh, I' it so gltl to Ili: soanlrrb ly to ispeak to. [ haveni't teitppI off' thie tie-. r seCll i creaturte since sinnrise. how do you do, in de'Iar Anything now going on in the yard ?- ' [A long p:insr'. O. C. F q., appealrs o be sultlenily cv.erwhelined .vith depressionl and silt t iii (.r i )ti.] Mrs. iBtld.y--. "WVh:it'a thle matter, sir?', O. . (in a terrible voice, atld walking like Orthel o)-'- Matter ! mnadale he nol!'" ' Inserts his bill tinder his left willg antld pro ces a rooster's tail feath er.'] "Do you 1''rec.g nie t tlat uilidalie? D)o tI tire-know'ledtlgettl atn iefitilut;illtne wiirth the hliickeiit-luartA tl t-I tli l " who ,lroplted it? Are you a.'i t- titii I uinulI it witt ill tiihree '' eiof tll roit . + e-tic llest ?' Mrs. Bidiy (linguidlt -...."Ditl ytou? I ii.lln't noo e it." O. C. l'n<K.---,'-ice, 0, alid listen while in callin but decisive lermi I strive, to imilpress uipon your mind the enormiity of your coniltlilt. HIas it inot been decile , I alk youI, nilitum+, hits it not beei the opinion of rooster kind for ages, ti!rl is it not therefore undeniable, that, after disinl terestetlness the oie thing n. eedful to the female cllhralcter is excessive molestv ? A true hen is so strictI'l and severely virtn oius thi:t the slighltet atteiipt. lit 1. tl iitiy tfrolm onle of 0 an itlrroi per sex, thouth dis is i belleath ithe '5at)tis tti.k of! fri,'idi.shiip, will excite in tier breast the exFrel -It :v'rsl'idi awil horror. On the tcontliary, what do I tind to be the case in: I.gar.l to yo y )nly yesterday, Ion Ietriring iulp,)ur'dly tr i'l i little pur ty, I ,r li-hi yt!u in llti:i ,it 'td eonveirsatIQil witli mly brotticr ! Ileliveins ! in;lid;ltl', ini I to i.e lon ger the victiin of such duplici tv i! ? to 0o,:er votltd I sacrifeice at lint'e the domestic nest, and fling thy ilfeless tidyv- -- i oh misery, violence, re velge "l"r:iltr', l)V ninme is hen!"' l)hs. irulliy et tl-lleity o il .er ns.t. 'Oh. dleair ile, I'mi so Lired." :ie clitc e ftrI ha:lf an hour.] Mrsi. . (in Peirt!le cpr.c-ition.) "lMy ienr, do you thiink you wotoulhd iliril look intg to thie nei :t linlinute . while I ruti niid Spick tip s1lhli.1 1 iii11 ? I liiveu't tikeni : I III, il il t to-+lt- y." I Mrs. BI.l.ty--,(witli her lclaw in her eye) ---"P.itlse, J couildni't help it. I di.t!'t II in tI ."' .0.c., E-y ., (nCu<l(fie)---"Wrell. wen!, ' it lIrit ymotil u izz iri. Y tl'rte Io click eO. M1.il+o.i. i, t. e so serusiriue :Ibol' a tr1 i-i; -llY i eia tiler n:U y ( ice ill iltlie a1-I, ablove il1, i collect tihat thie erowniiii VriI' . of hlenh'i't is disllit+'ittet.tlnes5.." .Mrs. Bidl.iy, (ieeklt )- 'Have a worm, hear ?'' O. C., Esq., (solemnly ).-'"I will." II SCENE III. [Mrs. Biddy C. has been setting for three weeks. O. C., al pears in the ctistai,cc, p! rting with onie of his numerous femlale friends; the tones of his voice fall faintly ,tln Ms B:ddv's eart.] t O. C., E-q., (starting up in doubt)- "'Madami, have I heard you aright? Do I g understand that you have distinctly o dered to shift upon your husband the little n duties of the domestic nest! Are you go ing to step from your sphere, madam? Do o you mran to be a hen's rights hen, madam ? Have I goit again to impress upon your head that teinmal ~elfishness alone is at the bottom c! icese impious doctrines? And what o.! the contrary, according to the de ci-ion of all rooster-kind, should be the o real pr:(le and aunlition of henhood ? Dis- b intelestedness; a true hen glories in little crosses anu trials; for, without tempta. tions, she perceives that there can be no virtue, without trials no patience; without affliction, no resignation, which is so love ly in the female character. A true hen, situated as you are, would not only rejoice that Providence had seen tit to perfect her with trials, but, with that beautiful self abnegation which can never be too strenu ously incilcated by rooster-kind, would r set herself to planning new sacrifices. I say a true hen, in your situation, instead of sneaking from her little duties, would con- { trive some plan (if only by reaching out her head and picking the earth around her) for supplying her husband's little wants." R Mrs. Biddy (nmeekly-"Have a worm, a dear ?" Oe . C., Esq., (solemnly)--"I will." V Who Bounced Judge Coiger. i a Our affable Governor-the gentleman , who came to Montana wits twenty-six trunks, a three hundre l dollar dog, and ) two pr:vatte secretaries-is supposed to be e at the bottom of thescheme which boosted t Judge Conger off tthe bench. Conger, as - is well known, as bounced Tuesday by the poa+ers that be. Conger and the Gov , ernor were never well enough acquainted to become enemies by any of the reas-'n y which ordinarily create enmity, but His r R ival Nibbs who came to M,,utana with the tdeternmination of ruling the roost, saw i tn Conger, it is supposed, the humble ves i sel n hicdh might bust up one of his (the e Givnror's) pet schewmes-the ottiting,;of rit ttet Cu-tter C.nity Ca.uttnll ioters. The ºte w board of CustHr County (ommls js .ionters (created by the late Lg iiature I havy,, it -eelns, failed to get chitrgi of the retc,.rds ant4 bioks of the eottityt, (Uabbell 41 unl the ol her members of the old buthrd a will, not surrneideir)., and the fdltinghu 1, hxvein tUon eqpence thrown up thj wpg.4 Le IIubbell, it lI# Wt1dl err4 guard of armled men to watch the safe t con'aining the records and books of the h ,Ild bi ard, night and day, and now tlt d only recourse seems to be the court. This t is a contingency which the Governor in his all-prevailing wtsdom foresaw, and that is why he is supposed to have used his iltfluence to remove Conger-for Conget beiug Judge of that district and a pro- ' fnounced friend of the proseit incumbents the Governor was a little sk t ish about him. Another cause which worked Con ger'. ruin was that with an honest desire to he just, and fear not, he a short time sitnce rlndelered : decision in a snit b:t'x eeo1 the peiopie oittuer county and the North en l Paific railroad w.hi- co t that coin-a iry aI trifle 'vcr $80,000, (the . ase was a tailrtoad tax suit). So Conger not oily hald tiw Governtor on his trail for person al reaso:,s, futr also a solid pard of the rail- Ii -o:d, be-ihes having the railroad company wirlt its t.i-reaching influ.t.en trying t a Ir-tml :e bhau dW Oit. Conger, of course, I hut to rro. With regarl to ltheCul-ter Cu (utuiry. Colmmissioner.s, Cox. who is ItI rpe, s ty- 1.!t lhe oi board will never give upt tet i t Ithe case will hI;ve to go to the coutrt-, wi trt li ish 4 coaftidnt i Wil rin.g wi'. hI otit murch of a: struggle.-'-l.e-r. 'The C..alel in A,.erica a I1n a pastturre Ilear Altttin we saw about t I weniy c anetls. In our jourineyings; i thro ugh Texas we had seen many sttrange Sthings, tbtt Iothing so strange and foreign t :as I canltml l rancho, 'T, mteet it camel ill a tneIeagerie is lnot sru'prising, but to come Ssu:ldenly on a herd of camels, quietly gra zing o an an American prairie is certainly start!ling. JIr 1657 the 7J. S. .vcerlllnent purchased h to ty c.lnels to Asia Minor, atit brougiht them ro twe United States. 'This was ill a i.t n.or.(ianttce with atn bct sof i(ongr'es appro priNtilg t ce'rtainl arlmoultn!t to entblel the Scretary of War to try the experiment of S intl roducit g" camels on this continent, as b,+tatt of burden, and for military purpo ses. The .ishta of the dtistri!'et 'rm whlich. Sthey were shipped presentel tert ca('aels to ti U1:lted S:.res. In May, 1857, the fifty ic:anls. with CGuek and Arab uttten!.t'lts. treath'i t ie lport of Indianoia:e, Texts, il he i. S store-shlip Supply, The eCamne.ls N ee first iused i; tralur-port- ( i -t u stores over the Si:.kelI l'Plains and the J.lurw',Uit t ir I itere (Journey of Death), a mI thi surv eyitig parties pipie' om m.iaTnt d of Genleral J. E. Joh, ston. thenl command- t !ui tlte Dtpartment or Texa:. Itt four y,,;rs the u,*rgtr,:d fifty hlat ine!',,;sed, by iibirth, ito lne humlred and twenit%. itJ 1861. tlce (Cntfed-trates seized the camitels at (Abalp Ver'dt-, nltil tluring ti.he t.i IIeI tllihe, i:C catrying Cotton to Mx- t aio. Each elentl cmarrteld two b.ile of cot tBoi. AitI' the war' the U. S. govettnielnt :,tt-iln took l"P)'-s,,sitio of t he can el s, and sold tuieal in three lots Th se that we - sw were hiteini: !bret ail raised for sale, I the p 'rcchll::erb:.s einig rli't.'s at l d i!tenag erie men. The price of a good Texas r;ri-ed camel is about two .hbundtlrd and fitty dollars. The Texas camel is a voracious feeder. His principal food is the prickly leaves of the cactus and the beans of the mesquite tree; but he does not confine himself alto ,rether to a vegetable diet. When oppor tunity offers.; he will reach up after the gllass insulators of a lightning rod or tele graph pole. anl conceal them in his com mis::ry,. or hle will stand by the hour meekly chewing up a wagon sheet. whent he cannot get a chance to eat the well rope or a wheelbarrow. A camel will carry a man ninety miles from daylight to dark; but either the camel orl the man requires to be well pad ded, oi the rider will succumb under the fatigue consequent on the jolting motioni of thlt brnte. Tle chief objection to using camels'as Sbeasts of burden in Texas is that horses usually run away at sight of them. This is bad for tile horses, and worse for the pilot of the camel if the owner of the horres should have his pistol with him. Texasr Siftings. An Unique Costumle. It may interest you to read about the a wolnderful new costume which Mary An- r de so-.obrougl~out a-few nights ago as Galatea. Talk of high art in stage dress- t ing, nothing in that way could exceed the i galrment in question. It was designed by Frank Millet, and we are, I suppose, to i expect something remarkable when a man artist turns costumer. Miss Anderson and others who have ap peared as the statue turned to life, have managed to at least be white like marble, but never before has clothes been made to look so stony. Mr.. Millet gets all the praise, and that is not right, for every wo man knows that it was far easier to design the costume which turns Mary into a sta tuary than to realize it in cloth. An ex quisit Greek tunic falls ever her tall, slen dtr flgilre in a perfection of graceful drap. ery, and a kind of heaviness suggestive of marble. <'his curious effect* is produced 1 by weighring the fabric with metal at va rious points, by shirring and staying in just the right spots, and by fastening cer- 1 tain portions to her body and legs with concealetl bands. Not only was she a'statue when posed as marble on the pedestal, but when mov iij.rbur the s'age every attitude was per feey statuesque. The eotume seemn d inc;p ble .ofbeingthrownv out of arcttaie anl b f l lines. , 114 fice, neck and arms g 1whIened; he'r wig was quite like utn stone, and her fiet w'r4e in stock .dal I1rpetpi s i .erv t i ., ·;· h & iii i to my mind, the exposure of a portion ,.f her side below the arm was just a little too daring, though the effect was palliated by the the resemblance to marble. CAUGHT IN TaETELEPHONF. The Unhappy Fate that Befel AMars' John. From the Atlanta Constitution. One night recently, as Uncle Remus' Miss Sally was sitting by the fire sewing and singing softly to herself, she heard the old m::u come into the back yard and enter the dining room, where a bright fire was still burning in the .g.ato. Everything had been cleared ;iway. The cook ha I gone and the house girl had disappeared, and the little boy waS ilsleep. Uncle Remus had many privileges in the house oft the daughter of his old mistress and master, and one of these was to warm him self by the dining room fire whenever he felt lonely, especir!ly at night. Just then there was a call at the tele- I phoie, The little gong rattled away ilke a house was on fire. As the lildy went to answer it Uncle Remus rose from thet chair and crept on hia tip-toes to the door1 that opened into the sitting room. He hear'1 Miss Sally talking. "Well, what's wanted- Oh?-- Is that you ? Well, I couldn't imagine No-Fast asleep too long ago to talk about-Why, of coursel--No!- Why should I be frightened !----I declare! you ought to be ashamed-Remtus is --here--Two hours! I think you are horrid meal !- Bye-bye !" Inclc Retlius stood looking ut pi('ioti..l at the telephonie af;cr )tids Sally hi:ar turned away, "Miss Sally," he said presently, ''wuz you talkin' 'ter Mars John ??" "Certainly. Who did you suppose it was?" "Wharabouts was Mars John ?"j !' t his (,ofte.'P, "W4y dlown on Yallerbaoner street?" "Y<esº," At this piece of information Uncle Re mps emitted a groan that was full of doubt and pity, and went into the dining room. His Miss Sally laughed, and then an idea seemed to strike her. She called him back. and then went back again to the teleplhon, "Is that you, Central-Please connect eleven-forty with tfurteen-sixty." There was :a t or'erinr g siotqtd irn the inlstrutmenlt, then the Ilndy said; ".'.e, it's me !--- Here's R 'mui -Yes, lbut he wants to talk with you." Iir(.e, Remus, take this and put it to your ear." "Here, simpletonr ! It won't hurt you." Uncle Renmas iook the ear-piece andl handled it as though it had been a loaded pistol. He tried to lo,,k in at both ends, and then he plac;ed it to his ear, and grin ned >iheepishly. Heard a thin, sepul-hur :'l but familiar voice calling out, "Hello, Remus!" and his sheepish grin gave place to an expression of uneasy astoni.hmnent. "Hello, Remus! Hello-ello-ello." "Is dat you, Mars John ?" "Of course it is, you bandy-legged old villain. I have no time to be standing here. Whatdoyou want?" "'How in de nanme er God you git in dar, Mars .John? " " "In where ?" ' "Ii dish yere-in dish yere appleratus." f, "Oh, you be fiddlestick! What do you st want?" 11 "Mars John, kin you see me, er is she w all dark in dir!" h "Are you crazy? Where is your Miss ti Sally ?" "She is yer, hollun en laughing. Mars of John, how you gwine to git out'n dar?" ' "''Dry up. Good-night!" h S"Yer 'tis, Miss Sally," said Uncle Re- s mus, after listening a moment. "Dey's aa mighty zoonin' gwine on in dar, en I dun- ci ner whe'er Mas John tryin' to scramble it out, whe'er he des tryin' for ter make his- h self comfertubble in dar." "What did he say, Remus?" "He up en 'lowed dat one un us wuz a A vilun, but dey wuz such a buzzin' gwine , on in dat I couldn't zactly ketch all de it rights." h Uncle Remus went back to his place by i1 the dining room fire, and after a while be- p gan to mutter and talk to himself. d "What is the matter now ?" asked his f Miss Sally. "I'uz des a sayin' dat I know Mars t John mus' be sufferin' some'rs." "Why?" f "Oh, jes knows it; kaze ef he ain't, w'at make he talk so weak? He bleez ter 1 be in trouble. I'm a tellin' you de Lord's trufe-dat w'it man talk he ain't bigger den one er dez yer little tenchy chany dolls. I boun' you," he continued, "ef I'uz a w'fe 'oman en Mars John wuz my ole man, I'd snatch up my bonnet en I'd naturally sail 'round dis yer town til I find out w'at de matter wid 'im, I would dat." r The old man's Miss Sally laughed until 1 the tears came in her eyes, and then she said : 1 "There's a piece of pie on the side board. Do go and get it and hush up so much talk." "Th.~ny, mistiss. thany !" exclaimed Uncle Remu , shuffling across the room. He got the pie and returned to his chair. "Dish yerpie," he continued, holding it I up het ceen his eyes and the fire, 'dish yer pVe ome in' good time, kaze M3araJohn I alk so weak ea so fur off iimakes met eel e right empty. I speek hebt well ti.e he gitbhore, en ef he 'uz ter .g olt yer dish Ser pieIt mout make" 'bit have bad h s few momentsR f the pid ha disap arad w en hintages Sdly lowk at pi a Ittals kusied was tas.t adep. FEEDING ON THE HUSKS. d The Bright Scholar- The Successful Lawyer-The State Senator--The e Rich Man-The Wretched Out- n cast. While encamped in a Maine town not A long ago, writes a correspondent of the Lewiston, Me., Journal a seedy and brok en-down man slouched into a hotel, made himself at home in an arm chair, and picked up a newspaper. An raged citizen, o0 who obstrved him, remarked to me: "The 1 story of that man's fall is one of the saddest a and most startling histories I ever met in h. ire or in tieion. That man was born in is this town. His father was a wealthy farm- k er aitd land owner. By hardf, stern lhbor ti and close economy, he amrassed a large h proplerty. He educated his son at Har- ft vard college, from which he was graduat- k ed with honor and high standing !nl his ti class. The young man studied law with c< oneof the most eminent practitoners in 5t Boston, and was admitted to the bar. He y pc(,suesed unusual talents. He was bril- bi li:at in con versatirt, wiv a ready and I Iharp debator and his culture was tho- vv rough. H" established atq ofilcq in one of si the suburbs of Boston. His father gave tl him a library worth $5,000. lie acquired b a good practice. In the whirligig of time s( he w:as elected to the Massachsetts Senate " and an "'110." was prefixed to his name. tt He became one of the prominent and most Ii promising young men in the Common- N wealth, By-and-by his father died and as left him $60,000. This completely upset p the young roan. Ie wasin such haste to t( stet and spend his money that he left his It ofct wit hout stopping to lock the door,and h ,iii:doned his office, ncd furniture to ci w\"thcmsoever might come. His creditors ai +eized his books and sold them to pay his v oil debts. tHe set up agrand establish- b ment in this town and lived the most glit- n t.. ing life on the Kennebec. p lie had horses, carriages, dogs and spr- n vants. HIe rolled in lngqu'y. His voice h was potent in society and politics. His ii fortune was invested chiefly in real estate. He was soon obliged to mortgage some of n his property. It seemed as if he could not c waste his riches rapidly enough. He a gambled and drank heavily. When the h mortgages became due, he paid no atten- n tion to them and they were foreclosed. tl One by one his houses, blocks and lots s -lipped recklessly out of his hm4pds. He I ptursued the'same mad course. Night after it ftight he allowed himself to be fleeced by v gam)lblers; and day after day he stupefled f iii s nses with liquor. At length the old v homesteoad was sold under the hammer. T'le few resources that remained speedily t mlt.el aiway. His oil friends forsook r him. His wife had died andt his two sons e lhad left the scene of their father's ruin t and dliagrat e. For the past six or seven e:ars lihe has been what you see him-an outcast. An old friend furnished him s with quarters in an attic and fed him for ap ch Iile,. He became so miserable that it t was imnpossible to bear his presence, and he was set a-drift on the world. One winter he slept in the corner of an engine I houe where a fire was kept. For several e I moiths hlie was known to fling himself a ( dwn on a heap of rags in a deserted build ing on one ofthe wierves. The building h, as burned. Where he now sleeps is a mtystery. 'The night watchman haveen-i deavorecd t) track him, but he has success- t fully eluded them. He hangs around the 1 streets till a late hour at night and im proves some opportunity when the night e watchmien are on their beats to steal into a hiding place, wherever it may be. Some s tim,.s an old friend gives him his dinnei. I have seen him pickiing a piece of bread Sor :a bit of meat from a pail of broken food tde;tined for the pigs. He drags along a half-starvedt existence, in this way. I - suslpect that he passes many a night with 4 an awful gnawing in his stomach. He is - clad in odds and ends of clothing. I doubt e it lie ownes a whole shirt. Every cent of - his $60,000 has flown. He earns nothing. Lie reluses to ask for aid from the town and is too proud to soil his hands by work. a Many of his old companions look upon him e with pity and sorrow, and would help him e it'fhe manifested the least disposition to helpl himself. His sons do not come near Y him. A short time ago the ladies made a Spurse and presented it to him, with the un derstanding that he should open a law-of is flee, furnish it, mend his ways and en deavor to do a little business. He accepted e the money and it went the old way. His pride and assumption displeased his best friends. One day last winter one of our t, leading citizens noticed the poor fellow jr had no overcoat' The good Samaritan had '5 one of his coats repaired, and it made a or comfortable garment. From motives of delicacy, hlie asked a mutual friend to pre sent the coat to the man before you. The friend called the shivering fellow into his hall and gave him the coat. He disdain fully turixed on his heel and refused the charity with an oath. The coat was allow ed to remain in thehall. Thatvery day it disappeared, and it was afterwards seen on the ftlio v's b Lsk. It is no wonder such treatment cools the hand of charity. He has grown thin and sallow, and is rapidly nearing the gulf at the bottom of the hill. If he ever suffers a recollection of the past or a fear for the future to give him a pang, he does not speak of it. He wnnders around town in the same iudependent maniier that characterized hisaluh days. liedoes not realize that in henept'ud 1y condition he is an annyince. His. strange life Is weg ph, of course. He cannotu iasi misch loie nle hes obta iti sblt pat~ita to ae tl j r.` b es nd which mss c :lr~ days ago, and riding through a suburb, I saw his old sign still clinging to a building. I wonder if any old Massachusetts Senator ever sees the old sign and wonders what may have become of his one time confrere? CRAVING FOR TITLES. An American Girl's Chance to Become a Duchess. Speculation is rife as to the appearance of the young Duke de Morny in this city. He came over very quietly, and except for a paragraph il), the p iper no e ne wniuld have known he was here. No special ifuis is being made over him in society mhat I know of, and, though there is go ip at the clubs, there is not much said aut him in the public prints. The real reason for the young Duke's presence here is I known to a few. Before he calme of age the young Duke de Morny visited this country in charge of his tutor, tie spenw some time in New York, whereehe saw a young lady, the dnaghter of one of our best l nown citizents, whom he thought he would like to marry. I do not know whether it was the cause of love at tir,,. sight or whether he knew of the wealth in the family. However, before he had even been introduced to the young hIdy he sought her father and tcid him who he was, and th.t he had an income of a cer- 1 taili amount, and that he would like to marry his daughter, and asked the father what settlemen t he would make in case of such an event. The father, like a good parent and true American, would not lis ten to the young man's overtures, as he had heard even then of the dissolute life he was leading. lie, however, told the circumstances to his wife, who is a very ambitlious woman with a democratic cra-I ving for titles, and who holds the largest I bank account in the family. She argued with her husband for some time, but to no purpose. Thetn she found somne means of meeting the huke and assuring him that he had her sympathy, if not co-operation inthe e!:tter. During this time the daughter had had mIn no introduction to the young rman, and of att course had no mneans'of knowing whether off she should;like him if she should, know jut him, but she inherits a good deal of her the mother's ambition'and love'of -titles, and for the idea of being a Duchess, even with the such a Duke, had its attractions for her. qu But the father way not to be moved, and elr in the meantime the tutor, having got on wind of what was going on, wrote to the be, folks at home, and the Duke de Morny the was immediately recalled from the United ur States. The miothr could not get the lit thoughts of such ainarriage out of her ly mind, and, without saying what she want- th ed to go to EuropeAfor, she packed up her cr bags, and told her husband that she was dr going to take a trip across the Atlantic vii with her dlaughter. lie, being a little so suspicious, tried to persuade her not to er; go; but she insisted that her health and so the health of her daughter demanded it, co so she carried her point but the husband er remained at home. What happened in sin France I do not know; but I have my le; suspicions that the mother renewed her es acquaintance with the - Duke as she ap- mt peared quite radiant when she returned to New York. lei In the meantime the Duke de Morny w had the disgraceful affitir with the unfor-1 to tunate Russian actress, whose suicide for et his sake very recently was the sensation t ot the hour in Paris, and his extravagant sl t habits had run through what he came into m n possession of when he became of age. ta Now he is penniless, that is, comparative- P - ly. He has sufficient money for the wants ce I of an ordinary man, perhaps, but a mere tt I nothing for a Duke of his tastes and hab- ti a bits. His arrival in New York is pretty 01 l well understood to mean that he is more tl l determined than ever to marry this young tt s American girl and her fotrtune. The fath- u It er knows perfectly well what the result of o f such a marriage would be, and he has set I 1 his face firmly against it. No amount of i ° coaxing on the part of the mother will in- I duce him to change his mind. She is a ti n weak rather than vicious woman, and b n would really be distressed to bring about oa family breach. So the case stands just F it about as it did when the Duke de Morny a a first set his eyes upon the daughter of this n '- wealthy house. Continual dropping El wears away a stone, it is said, and it may f '- be that the mother and daughter, who a covet the title rather than the man, hope is to finally accomplish their end. But for v st the sake of the happiness of this young Ir girl we can only hope that the stone in C W this case will prove harder than the one of I Id the proverb.--. Y. Herald. C a - t Df Sleeplessness. e le Druggists tell us that there is a growing is demand for various medicines and prepar-, n_ ations containing opiates in one shape or re another. People wreck their nervous sys- t v- tems by injudicious habits of life, and the it result is unsound sleep, dyspepsia, and a countless other evils. A little advice to sh such persons may not be out "of place. le They should, of course, be careful to ly abandon that method of life which brings 1 i1. them into physicial disorder. The com pst paint mriy be fed by tobacso; narcotics should be avoided. One cause of their ad trouble may be that they take insufficient er out door exereise. Perhaps they di ak too ea much tea or coff.e or eat tpo much flesh u.. meat. Tber~ are a thousand practices al lis lowed by iiveqlon whihrich are in theut S$i.e It..afl d prejtdeial to the g s We q4ty of leelt be improved . bydipmini lenh ofg $angeet in u·· s-i goes tobed tired and worn out, only to toss from one side to another. His brain is hot and full of blood, while his feet are cold. He thinks over again the thoughts that have been engaging his attention dur ing that day, or goes over again the busi ness that has called forth his energies for twelve or sixteen hours past. Ils night is a round of tossing to an(id fro. Is there any wonder that, failing to find oaut what is the true and natural remedy f,r his pains, he resorts to opiates, u hit.h he knows will give him temporary relief: lhere is one ,tre and safe way to reme idy his pains. If, after leaving work, h, would take a brisk walk of a tai. ,- t ;.,, before going to I,,, and walk would holdt his heal uInder i . r,;m of cold water, hre .ounld fad r lit f-th:.t is, supposing he does this when he is first troubled with sleepless nights. But no; if he lives half a mile or more trom his work lie takes a car homeI , .,ud, throwing off his clothe.s goes to bed as quickly as possihie The want of hab,:ata, betweeon l11nt;i and physicial labor i :;a frt'ilful c; -aePs. of. Qleeplessness. Many a hiuws;i n. u~m whos duties keep him in a i oilt:e all day wonui improve his health a great dreal if he were to fit up his attic s a carpenter's shop and spend an hour therein after supper. This, of course, would be bencticial only it he happened to have a liking for mnechiani;. then he would find his occupation atforded him amusement, mental occupation, anud muscular effort in just the proper propor tions. LIGHTS OF THE HAREM. Relations of the Chief Funuatet pnq His Charges In the Patace. It must not be slpppos~d that uoueijtls are a particuhirly Turkish or Mohamme dan irtstitution. They were known in the East and formed a portion of the house hold of Oriental monarchs long befiore the Arabian prophets or the Turks were ever heard of. Such guardians were to be found even at the Court of the Byzantine emperors and the founders of the Otto 1 man Empire adopted them with other f attributes of sovereign State in throwing r off all semblance of subjection to the Sel juekian Sultans. Aping the example of their-sovereigns the great paehas went in I for the same cu.stoml, placing the care of their females under one or more such qualified guardians. Of late years the I employment of eunuchs has gone greatly out of fashion, ordinary male attendants e being in charge of the ladies % hen taking their walks abroad. This is due il a imens Id ure, I fancy, to time more humanean an en e lightened ideas with regard to their fami r ly life, that set in with the advent to the - throne of Abdul Aziz. He abrogated the ,r cruel law by which none of the male cllil s dren born of Sultans were allowed to sur c vive their birth, and no princess to have e sons that might become possible pretend o ers to the throne. Tihe birth of his o%% n 1 son, Yusuf Izzedin, was kept carefully , concealed, and when this became no long d er necessary he rejoiced the hearts of his n sisters by allowing them the same privi y leges as all Moslem women, whose great r est desire is to become the mother of a - male child. o The time however is within the recol lection of many persons at Constantinople y when no carriage with Turkishi ladies was r- to be seen unaccompanied by mounted r eunuchs, armed with keen cutting scimi en tars, which they were apt to use on the it slightest provocation. There is a gentli to man still to be met with out here who ob e. tained a handsome indemnity fronm the - Porte for the severe punishment he re s I ceived at the hands of a eunuch for what re the latter considered impertinent glances 5- thrown by a "Ghiiaotr" in the direction ty of the fair "True Believers" promenading re the sweet waters under his care. To re rg turn, however, to the sulbject of the "Dar h- usseadet-Oghasse.'' This high office was of only instituted in the reign of Sultan .t Murad III, and the first person appointed of was a negro, calledlMehmet Agha. His n- successor was a white euntuch, for it was ,a the fashion to have these 'guardians o; rd both colors. ' ut Several of the keepers of the "Gate of tat Felicity" have been men of marked ability ny and some of them of considerable attain uis ments, so that it is not surprising to find ig they should occasionlly have been trans ay ferred from the domestic to the public ho service. Such - advancement, however, pe I has never fallen to the lot of other than ror white eunuches. ug Two of these latter e ten became grand in viziers-the one a certain Khadtrm messih of Pacha in the reign of Selim I, and the other Kurdjis Mehemet Pacha in that of the first Sultan Achment. Others again, have had the title of Sadr-Azane (Grand Vizier) bestowed uponl them without the office, and were styled highness just as r- Beiram Agha is in the presant day. or While the "Gate of Felicity" has thus le. Sto great honors in the past to some of its he guardians It has, in the case of othelrs, but proved the portal of death by the bow to strings and yataighan, for Ottoman mon e. archs were mighty jealous of their honor, to and the slightest suspicion 6f anything ig being wrong in the harem was wont to U- send many an inmate to the bottom of the to Bosphorus, together wlti those who were eir suppased to have shown a lackbof vigilance. et 'The chief eunuch enjoys great power ip too In the harem, and although the da.ys o ai the "sack" and "bewatring" are past it is Sdecidedly bad forE the lbdy who ktIla out witih the guardian of tb1 galpajfr; hbe os t make her a close prisoner and deprive he of all .ewfort. , t in j The supreme eourt of Rhodpre Islandu b14 me gitye an op inin that the Genea A P* blyhas no p to - tee nvris $b snhaisee hItag