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£rrt (toast (tcho. i iMa '' and f’libllaJiH Every Hiifunlnynt liiy hr. Eoiilh, Minn THE END OF IT ALL. The proud man. fat with the fat of the land. Dozed back In hi* Milken chair. Cholco wine* of the world, hlack men to com mand. Rare ctrlo*. rich and rare. Tall Unlirht* In armor on either hand - Yet trouble won in th air. The proud man dreamed of hi* young day a, when He tolled light-hearted and sang all day. Mr dreamed again of hia gold, and of men Grown old In hi* aenrtoe and hungry and gray. Then hi* two hand* tightened a time; and then They tightened, and tightened to *tayl Ah me: thl* drunkenness, worse than wine' This grasping with greedy hold! Why. the poorest man upon earth. I opine, Is that man who has nothing hut gold. How hotter the love of man divine, With Ood'ft love, manifold' They came to the dead man hack In hi* chair. Dusk liveried servants that come with the light; His eyes stood open with n frightened stare. Hut hi* hand* still tightened, as n vice I* light. They opened hi* hands— nothing was there. Nothing hut hits of night. •—Joannln Miller, in N. V. Independent. AN OPTIMIST. The Story of n Happy and Oon tontod Woman. Slie was an optimist That is. she herself and those who loved her called it optimism; other people, except that there were no other people, for she never permitted anyone not to love her, might perhaps have called it fickle ness. But, ns she herself explained, she was not tickle, because she never desired a change till the change came, and then she simply found it. interest ing. Ho. when the times were bard, those who know her were not at nil surprised Dial she was glad they Were living in the city, even in the midst of the anxie ties around them; it w-as so nice to be rich and able to help a bit, and it. would be so selfish to run away from the sight and hearing of the general snfferlng, to escape into merely happy sights and sounds to save one's own nerves. And the same people were equally not surprised, when, a little later, it turned out that they were not to be rich any more, and she answered calmly that really one would be quite ashamed not to he poor with the rest; and as the first economy that suggested itself was the great saving In a country rent, it would be so delightful to escape all the misery aud anxiety of the city and be where only happy sounds assailed the ear, and only lovely sights could tempt serene thoughts. For they were going to take the dearest, sweetest, most fas cinating little house—the chief recom mendation of which was its diamond paned windows -in a private park owned by a friend of theirs, in a love ly village fifteen miles out of town. Within these charmed gates they Would hear and see nothing but happy children chasing squirrels or playing tennis, and the carriages of friends rolling luxuriously, sometimes with themselves ns guests in them, along perfectly smoothed roads anil under exquisitely (arching trees. The optim ist loved extremes: she could be happy cither as Emerson's mountain or as Emerson's squirrel; either as nn ele phant or as a mouse; it was being a mere hill, or a cat, that she disliked. " If I’m not ak big bn yon. You ro not no Nmuil u I. And not half ,*o iipry," Of houses, she preferred cither a palace or a very, very small cottage; either the elegant or the picturesque. Ihe groat middle-class, bourgeois, comfortable, square house she ab horred. Their country house, it was understood, was to be a cottage, vine embowered—not a colonial mansion. She would like a big colonial door, cut in two in the middle, but everything else must bo on the tiniest scale pos sible to please the present state of mind of her majesty It was so nice, she explained, that one of the draperies to her immense city windows would curtain eight of her new diamond paued ones; and she took no notice at mil of the friend who asked meekly if that would nut be inconvenient when they came to move back again. Sure ly, it was quite understood that they never meant to move back. When she thought of the September sun shine, shining through the leaves of a big chestnut into the win dows on Die little landing of the tiny stairs in her country cottage, the hall of which she had been so proud in town scented to her positively murky. Then in the city they merely lived on a park; out of town they were to he in one; aud everybody knows how desirable it is to always be "in it." They would now have real trees, not city trees. And, besides, the hoys were going to be permanently and preeminently happy with a dog. which was so much better for them than the questionable amusements which occa sionally distracted them in the city. It ■was suggested that a dog might se riously interfere with the low tables covered with bric-a-brac, which were her personal passion; to which she re plied that she had been brought up in a very fine school where girls were trained to meet every emergency, even so great a one as this would be. She knew quite well what she must do if Fido over upset her pet Sevres and Meissen; she w-as tg say, calmly: "Oh. Diamond, Diamond, thou little know est the mischief thou hast done!'' and then pick up the pieces and replace with royal Worcester. The boys want ed a dog, and. moreover, a good watch dog was almost essential in the coun try. Betides, she preferred royal Worcester to Sevres. "I am perfectly sure you are going to like It, Mrs, Murray,” said a sympa thizing friend. “1 should be quite happy in the country myself, except that I don't like sitting up with the house nights." "Sitting up with the house nights?" "Yes. Didn't I tell you my ex perience in the tropics once, sitting up all night with a gardes? It seemed such an ideal spot, for sleep, but the xery intensity of the silence, the ex treme quietness of the flowers com bined with their penetrating frag rance. and the absolute awfulness of so much very white moonlight, kept my nerves ajar far more than the tinkle of horse cars and rumbling of milk wagons over a city pavement," ”1 remember; hut we are not going to he In the tropic*. The stillness will not he so still, cr the moonlight so whil-t, Just out in the country'." the stillness will not be so still, the) 1* certain (hie ni.lit it will be katydid*, mid the next night a bur glar. and then again katydid*, and finally Hut I mustn't forestall your experiences; you will soon find out” And they did The day of the flit ting was an absolutely perfect one for moving, according to the optimist; not 100 bright, you know, but just pleas antly overcast. They arrived just be fore nightfall, and even a pessimist would have acknowledged a great charm on the scone, with the pretty little house perched on a rock and shadowed by big trees, and with gen tle grass and affectionate ferns and mosses creeping up to the very door step. There was no awful front yard, no obtrusive, exclusive, and selfish looking fence; nothing but a lovely little home, framed in serenity and nestling into peace. The vans with most of the furniture, including the beds, were not to arrive till the next day; of course little could be done towards getting to rights that night, and at an early hour the family were disposed to retire. With no beds, sofas had been arranged in the least clut tered rooms upstairs or down, and one who looked at the couch impro vised for his repose murmured that getting to rights seemed to savor a little of getting left. Hut what fun. at least the first night, to go round locking up! in their city apartment they had been debarred from this in estimable privilege; on the sixth story west they had been sufficiently guard ed by their perpendicularity, without any keys at all, from the intrusive burglar; but then, ns the optimist re marked to the young lady of the fam ily, they hud also been deprived of any liomeo in the street below the bal cony. when the bacony hovered in mid air at, ninety feel above the sidewalk. U hen you did not have to lock up any thing it never seemed ns if you had anything to lock up; so now, at least on the first night, each window fasten ing received a caressing little lock and every door was bolted with a ten der firmness, which remembered not so much the danger that was locked out ns the happiness that was locked in. In the apartment, as the optimist remarked, you were safe, but in the country you felt safe; now, at Inst, your happiness was securely fastened in. Ho they retired, the family being re minded not to be frightened if Fido harked in the night. Of course, he would hark a little the first night: dogs always did in a strange place, and it would not. mean burglars at all. So they were not to be frightened. As the friend had said of the garden of the tropics, it seemed an ideal place for sleep: but, as lie had also prophe sied, there were katydids. For half an hour after she lay down, the Op timist was almost appalled at the noises that assailed her unaccustomed ear from the innocent looking scenery. Hut she dropped asleep at last, till she was awakened by what seemed to be the raining of bullets on the roof, though it soon arranged itself to her waking ear as rain, merely refreshing rain. However, it might he raining in; they had left a window open in the hall, and the new wall-paper would be spoiled. She rose cautiously, and, us she stepped into the hall, a door hanged. The wind was rising. Well, she was rising, why shouldn't the wind rise, too, if a door banged? And she smiled, thinking she would remember that little joke for the breakfast ta ble. A gentle scratching of a match below stairs told her that her husband had also heard the rain and the hang ing of the door. They met on the stair landing, picturesquely’ arrayed in am ateur dressing gowns of shawls and light rugs gracefully arranged ns to gas. “110 you think it was the kitchen door?" she asked, timidly. “1 should think it was a hundred kitchen doors," he answered, decided ly. Hut he did not swear; the op timist was so glad of an opportunity’ to test Henry's morals so severely, (if course, lie never had sworn in the city, but there, of course, there was nothing to make him want to swear; while now, under the most trying circum stances, he had proved himself a gen tleman. They’explored doors together, hut not one looked as if it could ever have banged under any circumstances whatever. I’hcn it occurred to them that, of course, it had shut itself in hanging, and so would bang no more. They were wending their way again to their respective sofas, stopping at a remote corner of the house to investi gate Hie rainlng in capacity of another window, when again a door hanged. "What is that, father?" asked the youngest, rising on his couch from an inner apartment. "It is the wind, my child." No carl-king could have answered with greater dignity: but the young est wrapped the drapery of ids couch about him and arose from pleasant dreams, to join the iitttc procession that was seeking the lost door. Again, however, every door was dutifully shut, though again some door always out of sight banged its woo into their ears till they arrived upon the spot, when it liccarne at once resigned and silent 11 wasexasperati ng; but their city manners still remained intact under fire, and the severest thing the nnswearing Henry said, was that May nard had warned him of having to sit up with the house nights, but he never supposed lie should have to walk with it. \\ hen at last they had traversed several miles in their process of in vestigating from one end of the house to the other, they came to the conclu sion that no one door had banged, but that all had merely creaked slightly. As the optimist decided that this alleviated the situation, they resolved to retire once more. The night was not an entirely happy one; hut one person, as Henry re marked at the breakfast table, hud managed to sleep through it jiH: that was Fido, the watchdog. "Why, of course," said the optimist, calmly. "That shows how discrimi nating he is; he knew wo were not burglars:' and the logic was so agree able, that as he didn't wake when they were not burglars, of course he would wake when they were, that it was unanimously accepted as so. In the morning the cellar was found to be—but then, what matter it about the cellar? People did not live in the cellar; and the critic who re marked that sometimes, however, they died of one was severely snubbed. In the morning the real fun began. As the optimist remarked, background is everything, and it was so interesting to try all the old things in new places. It was a very little house, hut the op timist did not notice that the ceilings were low: she merely looked up at a taller husband than usual, and re marked, fondly: "There are giants in these days!" Kvery part of the house was voted fascinating; hot, as usual, the cream rose to the top, and the finest thing of the whole was a “den” in the garret, in the shape of a tiny tower, with fifteen tiny square win dows. The furnishing of this den, where she meant to draw and paint, write sonnets, compose music, 101 l and read and gossip, became a frenr.y with the optimist. She herself regarded it as a "den," hut it was known to the family as the "vent." In it were gathered now all those liewildering knickknacks which the optimist had previously insisted on lavishing in every room below stairs, to the distress of a family well “up" in modern esthetics, and approving of the sever ity and genuineness of a few "really good” tilings. The optimist' never cured whether a tiling was ‘'really" good, or expensive, or choice, if only it were pretty and effective. And now she had one place where the mere pret tiness, so offensive to the vest of the family, could be stored in one spot; and it must be confessed, in spite of f lic incongruities and lack of respect for dramatic unity that the "den" ex hibited, it became a very attractive place. She became jealous for it to possess the choicest of everything, and when the family, who In this were certainly inconsistent, objected that the parlor was beginning to look very bare, she reminded them; "You have always laughed at people who bring things out of the garret into the parlor, spinning wheels, and old candlesticks and broken furniture; very well, 1 am doing just the oppo site, and carrying things out of the parlor into the garret. You are cer tainly very hard to please." It. was soon discovered that the opti mist would permit no allusions to th> locality of their former abode whlcl characterized if, as "home "Tills is home,” she would say, severely: and when Tom remarked: “Hut, mamma, you are fickle, you used to be very fond of the other place," she replied con vincingly: "It is very much better to be fickle than to be homesick." There after Tom amused himself with trying to find out exactly how much indiffer ence to the old home she would toler ate. He found that she drew the lineal the “old house;" they could call it "the other house," she exclaimed us a grace ful compromise between faithfulness to the old and appreciation of the new. Hut they thought that, in the language of tile day, they "had" her, when she was twice overheard giving her name to the butcher and grocer as "Mrs. A. It. Murray, 170 West"— be fore a shout of amusenunt reminded her that she no longerdwelt in a street and a number, but In a den full of things without number. And again they though! they "had her." wln.-ii she was found papering the <ien with remnants of wall papers they had had in the city. "Oh, mam ma; how did you happen to bring those from—the other house, if it was not for old associations?" “Why, 1 thought it was a pity to waste them,” she explained. “lint there are lots of remnants here of these wall papers," remarked the unflinching Amy. "Oh. those belong to the landlord!" replied mamma. And yet, when her husband found she had deigned to use one very pretty remnant of wall paper, ala tiles, around an amateur mantel, and won dered whether she ought not to have consulted the landlord on using up the very last of it, she explained, without a blush; “1 didn't ask him. because I was afraid if 1 did he wouldn't let me," And she added, aft r a pause; ‘‘Be sides. there was just eu ugh of it ’ This convincing proof that Provi dence smiled at perfect availability clinched the argument. Her husband had long ago become accustomed to those startling episodes in feminine ethics which arc naturally as sur prising to the masculine mind as are many points in the masculine code of honor to the feminine soul. Hut there did come a das’ when the last bit of bric-a-brac had been de posited in the den, and when the. optimist, putting on her hat and drawing on an old pair of gloves, an nounced: "It is all done. That is, all except the cleaning. The decorating is done, and the cleaning can wait. I'm going out now to make the. beds." "Don't you think, my dear,” said her husband, gently, but firmly, "that if we cat, and talk, and walk, and ad mire, out of doors, we might at least sleep indoors, especially as winter is approaching?" "1 refer to the chrysanthemum beds, Henry," stie remarked, as she took the hoe and descended upon the lawn. And then came golden days of sun shine. and changing maples, and golden rod, and asters, and brilliant sunsets, and crimson sumac, and ripe nuts, and open fires. It was no won der that the optimist proved a prophesier of the truth, and that be fore two months were over, when their friends inquired if they were not going to move bach, the unanimous and invariable reply was; "Certainly not; we have at last found a place where, we can live, and not move, but have our boing."--N. Y. Independent. THEY ARE MEN AT TEN. The Hoys Have Hot n Short Childhood In In C r<*a the are called men us soon as they reach the age of ten. They receive their final names at that age, and assume the garments of full-grown nun. all except the horsehair hut. which they cannot put on until they have passed through a period of probation. Permission to wear the horsehair hat is the final act of transforming the small hoy into a real, sure-enough man— though he doesn't look it. Such a short childhood may. at first thought, possescs a charm for boys in our colder climate Hut it will Vic quickly understood that making boys into men as soon us they are old enough to feel that they would like to be men is not a wise idea. The f'oreans, al though possessing a certain degree of a queer kind of civilization, are not a people to be patterned alter. In Corea, if a young man's parents arc not rich, He can never hope to become so by his own efforts. And. if heisnota member of a noble family he can never hope to reach an exalted position. As for cour age the f'oreans have never shown much of that. The Doreen men are not in themselves a good argument fur a brief childhood. 9*" * ' .John lliutyan was the Inspired Tinker from the vocation lie exercised even while engaged in preaching. ON HISTORIC GROUND. The Ever Memorable Battlefield of Shi.oh. Where (In. J„l,n*)n„ Fell—tile Death l ost Ihe Hattie i„ n,e Southern Army — \ Cedar Tree Dark* Ihe Spot Where .foilunion Died—So Marble Shaft Over the Confederate Dead. I stood, but a little while ago, upon the forever memorable and historic field of Shiloh, and in the boastful spirit of the author who thought It worthy of note that be had looked into the tomb and seen the dust of Shakespeare, may not ho who writes these lines esteem it something that he has trod upon that famous battleground? Leaving tho railroad atCorlnth, a rids of eighteen miles in a northeasterly di rection, over a high ridge road, the same over wh eb our army marched as it went out to attaok the enemy, carried us across the border into Tennessee and brought us to Shiloh church, and wo were on tho famous Hold, whore, on tho fltli of April, 1803, there met in deadly combat the magnificent armies of Grant and Albert Sidney Johnston, tho one fighting to destroy a now-horn nation's hopes and to humhiu what they es teemed to ho a rebellious and presump tuous people; the other defending the blood-hought heritage bequeathed to them by the fathers of American liberty. Those who mot the Southern soldiers In tho deatbful clash of war know full well what a gallant slrugglethcy made; and the battle-scars of thousands of vet erans, and tho graves of our heroic dead, scalterd all over tho land, hear testi mony ‘bat tho liberties entrusted to their keeping wero not suffered todo parl at a price less than what they cost. Hesides the fame won by the combat ants for daring attack and stubborn re sistance, there nro other things that make Shiloh memorable. It was the first great open field battle of the war; both armies were composed, almost en tirely, of men fresh from tho civil pur suits of life, but few having ever before seen tho enemy; and there tho South lost its illustrious general, Albert Sid ney Johnston. HU death and the de feat at Shiloh were the first steps lead ing to tho downfall of tho Confederate government. Tho only engagements of any note prior to this wore at Manassas, I’ea Kidge and Wilson's Creek; they were considered sharp battles at tho time, but they fade into insignificance com pared with Shiloh, There died ten thousand of tho flower of America. After this sturgglo the North and South understood eacli other. The fountains of the great deep were now broken up and etch prepared (or a dolugo of blood. Tho South once believed that after a few little battles the white-winged dove of peace would return; the North thought that it could routo the Southern army with a few shots and shouts, but at Shi loh it learned that tho Southern race were a bravo and stubborn people, who had staked everything, life, liberty and possessions upon the Issue of the war. and would never yield so long ns there were men and means to wage it: and after four years of ceaseless warfare, against overwhelming numbers, tho once glorious army of tho South that had so often dipped Us conquering ban ner in tho crimson lido, was left a shat tered remnant, hut with souls uncon querod still. Corinth was the base of operation of Johnslon'aarmy, and is of Itself a place of historical Interest. There may still he seen around Ha suburbs tho grass-grown bulwarks behind which lay the South ern army, and over which the enemy dared not attempt to coino. After Fort Donelson and Fort Henry surrendered the Southern army fell hack to recruit and to protect the railroads which cross litre. Grant’s army had reached I’ittsburg Landing, and was lying in camp await ing tho arrival of the army of tho Ohio, under lluell, when Gen. Johnston sur prised him on Sunday morning. Shiloh Church, which gave ila name to the battle, was a little log house without doors or windows. It was lorn down several years ago and a neat frame building erected upon tho same spot. When the battle began the church was within tho Fed* ral linos, and near their center. At tho close of tho day the Confederates occupied tho position that they (tbo Federnls) held in the morning, and tho church was Gen. Ileauregard's headquarters. The Fed erals had been driven hack on tho Ten nessee river, three miles from thoir former position. A mile to tho north west of tho church is Owl Creek. There rested tho Federal right, Sherman’s division, when the ha tile opened. Their left, supported by Prentiss’ division, stretched away a mile and a half to the southwest. To the northeast of the tho church, where tho I’urdy and Cor inth roads cross, was McClernand's di vision. Two miles hack the Corinth road intersects the road to Crump's Landing; there was W. 11. L. Wallace's division, and a mile to his loft was Hurlbut’s. A mile to Hurlhut's loft, near the river, was Stuart's brigade. Lew Wallace's division was at Crump’s Landing, five miles down the river, and Buell, with '.’0,000 men, was on the way from Columbia, Tenn. Neither arrived until after the battle of tho first day was over. Half a mile south of the church was the Confederate's center. The frontline, composed of the Third corps and Gladden’s brigade, was com manded by Hardee, and extended from Owl Creek, on the left, to Lick Creek, on tho right, about three miles. Hind man's division of two brigades, occupied the center; Cleburne's brigade the left, and Gladden’s Die tight. The second lino was commanded by Bragg, with two divisions; in this line was Chal mers' brigade of Mississippians, who drove Stuart's brigade a mile with the bayonet. The third line, or reserves, was composed of the First corps, under Hoik, and three brigades under Breck inridge. There are many old veterans in Mis sissippi who will never forget how, with the famous ' rebel yell” that so often paralyzed with fear the Federal soldiers >nd made their hair stand on end, they dashed into their campon Sunday morn ing. General Johnston bad planned to sur prise Gen. Grant, and capture his army. The battle plan was to turn his left wing, to cut off his retreat to tho river and drive him hack on Owl creek, over vhicb be could nttt, retreat, as it nag' T— W impassable, when bp would hate to sor render. The battle was fought a* planned, and nothing but the untimely death of the great general—who little know that he carried with hls lifo Ihe issue of the battle, and possibly the fate of a nation—prevented Its comf'eto execution. The moat interesting part of the field t the visitor is a skirt of woods, a dense thicket a mile southeast of the church on the crest of a hill, and known as “The Hornet's Nest.” Within its shadows were massed the divisions of Wallace, liurlbut and Prentiss. In front of it is n open field, over which the Confederates bad to pass to attack it. Hindman's brigade, which had swept everything before it in other parts of the field, made the first assault, and was repulsed with great loss. A. P. Stewart’s brigade shared the same fate. Then Gibson's made several gallant hut frultleas charges that strewed the ground with the dead. The famous sis hundred in their charge at llalaklava, immortalized by the poet's pen, dis played no greater heroism than these. For five hours, under a murderous lire, with unabating fury, the Confederates dashed against this seemingly impreg nable position, like angry waves against a rocky shore. The slaughter was ter rible there; the ground was hid by the bodies of those who foil, and the blood ran down tho trenches. The crisis had now come. Tho enemy had been driven hack in every part of tho field save this, and it seemed im possible 'to move them there. Gen. Johnston rode up, and seeing the situa tion, said, “They seem to bo offering stubborn resistance here, wo must give them tho bayonet. Como, I will Ipad you." With a last great effort, and de termined purpose to conquer or perish, tho daring Tennesseeans and noble Mis slsslppians dashed Into the open field. The Federal lino blazed from end to end; tho attacking column withered be fore the hall of load, hut never paused until It had gained the crest and tho enemy was (lying before them. In anew position they made another stand, and with terrific fire of musket and artillery made a desperate fight to hold their ground. One brigade held it too long and fell into tho hands of the Confederates. They also lost some of their artillery, Captured by Col. John H. Miller’s regiment of Mississippi cavalry. Tho day was won at tho cost of tho chieftain’s life, and the Confederate he roes wore the laurels-hut only for a day. At 4 o’clock Gen. Johnston was shot with a musket ball and died from loss of blood. Ho lived to see the whole army driven hack In utter confusion be fore bis advancing lines. Gen. Heaurogard succeeded him in command. A general advance of tho whole lino would now have completed the victory. Wallace bad fallen, and his division had entirely lost its organi zation, Sherman's was swept from the field like chaff before tho wind, and Prentiss’ division of 3,000 had surren dered. Tho river batik was crowded with thousands of terror-stricken strag glers who had thrown down their arms anil lied, like tho wicked, where no man pursued. 'J ho whole army, officers and men, were completely demoralized and would have surrendered. Hut an advance was not made, and the army rested where Us loader's death had left it; precious moments and price less hours slipped away; night came and lluell and Low Wallace came with twenty-five thousand relnforomonls for tho enemy. J Gen. Heaurogard, Ignorant of the ar rival of Buell, renewed the battle on the morning of the Ttb and held the enemy In chock until two o'clock in the afternoon, when ho realized that he was fighting fresh troops, and ordered a retreat, falling hack in perfect order to his fortified position at Corinth. Thus ended the groat battle of .Shiloh, that promised a decisive victory for the Southern arms, but, as at Manassas, the advantage gained was not followed up,, nothing was achieved. There Is no doubt that had Albert Sidney Johnston lived four hours there would have been a complete victory; tho fate of the Union army would have been worse than tho French at Water loo, and Grant would have been known in history only as the man who lost an army at Shiloh. Gen. Johnston died under a whitooak, the slump of which is in the possession of a farmer who soils chips from it to relic hunters. A cedar tree now marks the spot where he fell. As I looked upon the ground made sacred by Us baptism with the blood of heroes, my thoughts turned backward to tho dark days of the war that cast its shadow over my childhood days and in imagination I could see its heroes. r I thought of the poor soldiers that died far from homo and loved ones, without the touch of gentle bands aud the sound of loving voices to soothe them In the hour of death, and of the suffering wounded that lay out upon the cold dark field or endured the sur geon's torturous knife and saw. I thought of the wives that wore made widows, aud the children fatherless, and of tho mothers that mourned for their sons and refused to he comforted beeaus t they were not. I thought of the nation that perished that our fathers defended, of the flag that wo loved, and the blood that was shod for its glory. As I looked upon tho graves of the Southern dead and then upon those of the North, I though of the contrast be tween the victor and the vanquished. The bones of tho Northern dead have long ago been gathered up and buried in the nation's beautiful cemetery. Their graves are marked with slabs of marble, and over them floats their country's flag, but the forgotten dead of tho Lost Cause still sleep in unknown graves on the battle field. They have no government to honor their memories and mark their last resting places, for the nation on whose altar they died lives only in history and in the’hearls of those who fought beneath her sacred banner. But hihtory shall he their monument, and in future ages, when marble shall have crumbled to dust, men will read their records, admirh their gallant deeds, and applaud (heir heroic death. Shiloh was a hard fought field but history tells of many battles more’fatal that followed; and how the Southern soldiers fought from State to State and ! Held to field, in tho valleys and on the mountain t>|H within tho cloud; and lb * ir * umbm erow Mull their ' aotils grew groat, until at last the angel of hope forsook them and the bright vision of the patriot's dream was dis pelled, and at Appomattox ended the awful struggle that bankrupted the Southern Stales and put the half of America in mourning and there was en> tombed our storm-cradled nation s dust. And though the nation Is dead these many years, yet will its memory forever live. As Israel in captivity remembered Zion, so will the Southern boartscberlsb a fond remembrance of the Lost Cause as long as tbo struggle shall live in story and song. llk.viiy Winter Harper. RELIGIOUS AND EDUCATIONAL —ln Liverpool recently 150 temper ance sermons were preached on whal whs observed as “Temperance Sun’ liny." —The damage done to the Methodist Episcopal mission property in Tokio Japan, by the recent earthquake isos timaU'd at about f.1.000. -j'l'ho I'nthoiie Total Abstinence Union of the United States has 57,35( members, according to the latest statistics. —Archbishop Villatte. the head ol the new Polish Catholic church, is about forty years of age. and was for a time a clergyman of the Episcopal church. —The latest statistics allow that in Brooklyn .there are I*s young people'* societies, with a membership of about 10,000. and 43 junior societies, number ing about 1,700 members. —From this time on the North Af rican society will train its missiona ries in book or Uterarv Arabic before they leave England. A school for this purpose will be established. Dampness has made the Corinthian capitals of the church of the Madeleine in Paris crumble, and recently pieces of spine have.fallen, endangering the passers by. The capitals are to he re moved and new ones put in their place. Poston university established a professorship for the comparative study of religions as long ago ns in 1873, and now President Warren is asking for 8100,000 with which to found an “Amer ican Museum of all Religions,” similar to the (iiiimet Institution in Paris. —The Society of .Mutual Helpers, of Boston, distributed last year 30.00 C bouquets in the feneineiit house dis tricts of that city, to the sick and aged. The friends in ttie country gather the flowers and send them to the city, where they are distributed. Sixty towns are interested in ibis work. , Argentine republic tins made rapid strides in education during the last thirty years. Her system of public schools is modeled on that of the United States. There are 3.050 schools, or one for every 1,000 inhabitants. Be sides norma) and agricultural schools there are ;.'() national colleges and S universities. --The Cumberland Presbyterian church, wfrieti Is refiresenteii in it states, generally those of the'- South and Southwest, reports- 184,1A| com municants. Of these 43,910 art found in Tennessee and the next larger num ber. 38.304, in Texas. Missouri come, tbird.with 37..57U and Kentucky fourth, with 10.407. The total of 'Contributions raised last year was 8070,405. The ad ditions to membership were 10.818, I he number of congregations Is 3.881, :>f ministers 1,708 and of Presbyteries 130. Besides the ministers -there are 390 licentiates and 359 candidates.—N. Y. Independent. —Oh, it is hard to take pi heart the lesson that such deaths will teach: but let no man reject it. for it is ope that all must learn, and is a mighty uni versal truth. When death strikes down the innocent ami young, for every fra gile form from which he lets the pant ing spirit five a hundred virtues rise, in shapes of Mercy, Charity and Love, to walk the World and hlesa it. Of ev ery tear that sorrowing mortals shed on such green graves, some good is horn, some gentler nature cymes. In the destroyer s steps there Spring up bright creations that defy ids power, and his dark path becomes a way of light to Heaven.—Dickens., WIT AND WISDOM. “Does she love music,?”,, “,M —Ye.v But not enough to keep away from the piano?’’—‘Washington Star. —Hoax Why do you cull that trol ley-ear conductor 'Time'? Jotpc—Be cause he waits for no man.—Philadel phia Record. —Merchant (to portrait-painter)— Bow much will you charge portrait if I furnish the pamt'A— Fiie gende Blatter. —She —1 don't believe you love me as much as you did before wc were mar ried. lie—lust as much as I ever d!J; perhaps hot so much as T said 1 did.— Sun. —1 hr Wife—Yes. I married you to .spite Fred tirigson. The Husband (ruefully—l wish, my love, you had married Fred tirigson to spite me.— Tit-1 tits. Wife—And did Mr. tiny really say 1 was positively dove-like? Husband —Something of that sort. He said you were, pigeon-toed, I believe.—Boston Transcript. Tourist (in a remote village)—Can you tell me where the station is? Por ter-I can, but I won’t. Wc are glad to have a tourist here at last.—File gende Blatter. ‘ Doh is er heap in gibbin' er .frien’ in distress cr ineonragin’ word,’’ said Lnele Eben. “Ap 1 de mot' inedurag in word yoh cun say is ’yes’, when he axes yoh fob cr small loan.”—-Wash ington Star. Ser.sitive.-Cobblc—Van (Mlder.the painter, came near being drowned re cently. didn’t he? Stone-Yes; and now he won't speak to me. Cobble— Why not? I referred to him as a strug gling artist., —N'. Y. Sun. ’ i here s a man outside who wants to know if the editor is in,” said the Hooter's new office boy. "Show Hm up. No, sir. iius the firm replv, '1 II resign first. He says that's what the editor's been doing,' an’he’s look ing for gore."—Washington Star. —First Hen—What a ridiculously giddy creature that young Mias Horn ing is. Second Hen--oh. she’s young yet. Wait till she has known the sor row of sitting for three weeks on a china egg and two door knoh. -she’” sober down then. —lndianapolis Jour nal. Hefc is a story of a schoolmaster who promised a crown to any hoy who should propound a Fiddle that he could not, answer. One and another tried, mid at last a boy asked, “Why am 1 like the prince of Witfe.s?” The master ptneMed his wits in rain ami finally was compelled to admit that lie dkl not know. “Why,” said the boy, “it's be came I’m waiting for the wowb.”— Tit-Sit*, AN ° ABO yw> Thk announcement W by tho paymaster 1 promo court „f of fl*fl amountof dormant (un,l "‘ l total I cry is *5.000,000. ds JnKFustnet lighthouse th I the Irish coast best hn,, ’ th **W® cans, i said to be in I T * ***9 ditlon, as tho iron J| tower have become I As most of the court ladie, m * I smoke cigarettes, so mp ,7S women have eWanl ih(! woww 1 witli ash trays of gold ms°t ° f * U, ornaments of their bondol,,. 0 * * Window gaaing" i, . hondon. A couple of st,lK** •* ladles pause before the * 'a r ' S * 4 merchant, remain about T o *' and audibly praise the good^ di Inside. Then they p lK '* 'i store on their long list of patr^°' i " “Docron "said Mix Wee.i,,,, a' T 1 " ,8d . M, at l-osalhlv Hatband was burl* alive ” ?ia! 0 * r molted Dr. Peduncle, “ nida-t nyself in his last ' * tt * M Ws Fall Medicine Spring “TthTs is great danger to health |„ 3 temperature, cold storms, nd the prevalence of fevers serious diseases. All the,” J 0lh " voldo<l if tho blood is hunt T 3 * digestion good, and the ilodlll'Lu vigorous, by taking Hood's SaiiJSS ’ Hood’s w * *%%%%%% paritu “My little boy four teen years old had a # f I l*fln torrlhle serofu la bu nch V j M * VO on his nock. A friend %VUs nIZZTVr* HnrB "l ,s ‘rilla rurrths i little boy, so I procured a bottle „( Z medicine, and the result has been th. m bunch has left his neck. It was scroll throat, that, he could not have stood a loucor wiUiout rol cf ” Mr* ff? 3~’4 Thorndike Si,, Lovell Ma„ | Pills we prompt and rffletenu g,. CURES DmE™*; CHOLERA INFANTUM, AND ALL AFFECTIONS OF THE BOWELS. _ . Olvosn, 1,a., Tidy i, iM. Cnlletuen We have o,rd your Brodir’iCw* dial In our family for some lime pail, and are perfectly •sllsfird with Ua effects Would aol willingly do without it. Respectfully, J. E Kumaioii SOLD BY ALL DRUGGISTS. PRICE. COc. and 6100. Prepared by I. L. LYONS & CO Hew Oa lraiiA. La. W. L. Douglas 0S <C* IS THE BEST. NOSCUEAKINf. *5. CORDOVAN, Jjg r \ FRENCH&ENAMELLED CAlf SSs \ ... .Jl) S3.yPOLICE, 3SoIo. 4? s,o.?2.WoßKiNl!M t|| . ■■Kt, ~": > < “a** F YTPA FIMF jjpfo *2^I.^OYSSCHOSL)He SEND FOR CATALOGUE W* L* DOUGLAS, BROCKTON, AVASS. You can eavo monry by wmrlnf Ike W. L Douslnn 93.00 Shoe. Hern ii nr, we are tho lorgrpt inanufacturm of thin gradeof Shoes la tho world, nnd *uarantr’ their ▼Aluo by stamping tho name and price on kj bottom, which protect you against hlghpricMMn the middleman's profits. Our •hoe* equal enrtom work In style, easy fitting and wearing qualltlM. WeliAvotham sold everywhere at lower prlceifnr the value given than any other make, lakcnorao stltute. If your denier cannot supply you, we can.^ Unlike the Dutch Process 4 No Alkalies her Chemical* are naed in the \ BAKEII& CO.’S ’eakfastdocoi which it nbtoluttll pure and ioluoltt bkilwrothanthreiH*" e ttrmujth f I oco wuM nil Starch, Arrowroot* igar, and la far morf ■ nomical, editing teß than one cent a-* It Is delicious, nourishing, sud *- UI DIOBSTED. Sold byOtofcr* nerywhara. W. a C 0 Dorcueiter.il**. MAILED FREE lo ,\ay V.iTtner or Farmer * ?V,f| “Up to Date Dairying” containing full inr.lrut.tlon how to ' r ' ut *' Higher (irnde Products, v>*' UIORE BOTTEB A BETTER PRICE and with Less Labor.. - rtorcMogy Rr.loln: and cpUlnin* in a ptanl'd ' tm Normandy (rneHCH> Bv9TEM. DANISH DAIRY SYSTEM ELGIN SEPARATOR ST*^ which have brought proptrify ami ea-.c to the J f - for th's Valuable Information. s ’* faiiad* •ppHcation. Kindly sesd g."JgH * who own cows. AddreM R, Ex.Soc'y Columbian A: 24C W. Vm^sOO Illinois Dairy Associations ■ Coleman• Tulu Is sweet, in f* cl 11 C * B 1 M It once you try It you'll lwyDoy • . fhelßsTGuniTnltie World' SOL COLEMAN KoRO MEMPHIS, l% Tlllli TEHN. Pepsi" 1 Ul “ . _* )•( wiwi • Crfeed"rPPfrJML 1 !, OP f DROPSYI ™d t.*iv •i'Si'l,