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€/ VOL. XII. ROOM AT THE TOP. Never yon mi ml the crowd, lad. Or fancy your life won’t tell: The work is the work for a’ that To him that doeth it well. Fancy the world a hill, tad; Look where the millions .top: You’ll tlad the crowd at ’he hasp, lad: There’s always room at the top. Courage and faith and patience. There's space in the old world yet: The better the chance you stand, lad. The further along you get Ke.'p your eve on the goal, lad, Never despair or droe: He sure that your path leads upward: There’s always room at the lop. •MIST SO.” Harper's Weekly. 1 hated Aunt Margery’s parrot. Its screaming, croaking voice, its gurgling asides crooned as it >a - on its perch, stirred up something in me evil and vindictive. Perhaps I had no natural inclination to pets. Often when i had been over-wearied at the old farm house, the sight of mother's hens scratch-scratching for a living had irritated me with a sense of overwork. Hut they at last came honestly by their living. I respected them; but this pampered, overfed thing made my llcsh crawl as it clung ogling to its perch, or dropped lazily down to pick up a bit of cracker, nibbling thereat with an uncanny chatter. No; 1 did not like pels. Aunt Margery did. This ugly foreign favorite had absorbed till her affections, 1 thought to myself bitterly, sis I watched it that morning. She caressed the creature; she spoke to it endearingly; hut for her own kith and kin she had nothing hut everlasting fault-finding and ceaseless exactions. A few tears dropped down upon my hands as I sat there. The parrot, blinking down upon me, drew up one skinny claw, scratched his emerald head, and sktearned, ‘Must so!” —a pet phrase which served it to express the most subtle meaning, apparently, and with which it seemed to jeer at my emotion. This was the third morning 1 had waited for nows of Dick —poor Dick, light-hearted, high-spirited Dick!—who had taken up his cap and left after his last word-battle with Aunt Margery. This blow had taken the sunshine too utterly out of my life, and there, as I sat at the window, 1 mentally shook my list at this glibhering thing, so sheltered and favored while he was adrift—where ? What would become of Dick? oh, what would become of Dick? The lad had always had some business in the city that sat lightly upon him, coming and going at his leisure; but now for three whole days his face had not lightened the gloomy house. The longing to know of his welfare, the yearning to see him, had grown intense ami intoler able. And now. rendered irritable and distraught by my anxiety. 1 had quar relled with Aunt Margery myself—l to whom her invalid stale had hitherto excused so much, who had been her patient nurse so long, and the acknowl edged peace-maker between herself and the outspoken, impolite Dick. 1 had fallen from my high estate; J was an outcast from favor —not worth so much in Aunt Margery's eyes us this leering old parrot. Well, I need sacrifice myself no longer. 1 was free to go away. Oh, how useless, how mean and degrading, seemed all that 1 had submitted to and suffered! It could benefit Dick no more, and in his absence, dropped its spledid apparel of self-sacrifice, and re vealed itself a beggarly and sordid tameness of spirit. Outside of this narrow groove where I had grubbed and vegetated there was a thrilling splendid reality of existence. A sort of winged feeling took posses sion of mo as Icontemplatcd the possi bilities ot the future. The parrot put up his ellin claw, blinked at me from the corner of his eye, and cried. “Just so !” as he flopped hack into his open cage. From the window where that cage hung I could see the glowing gar dens and pleasant lawns stretching be low, and in the wistful hazy distance the city seemed to shadow through— the bright busy city, where every one was astir and at work. Dick was there too somewhere. Dick did “ business" easily and irresponsibly as a bird. Why should not Ido business? I began to take account of stock —to make a men tal estimateof myself. It is surprising, in this commercial valuation of one's self, how percentages shrink. A little hazy knowledge of history, a little nebulous acquaintance with general literature, a light touch upon the piano —all these things look painfully thread bare on examination, like stage pro perties seen by daylight. I could not settle upon any specialty in which 1 was pre-eminent. 1 must leave my future to fate, and I did so with the de lightful insouciance of youth. So the early dawn found me at the garden gate, face to face with the kind ling morning, the garden quiet and odors. Face to face, also, with old black Giesar, the superannuated gar dener, who ornamented hi* profession in a red cap and slippers. Hi* gray old monkey face, with its scant fringe of grizzly hair, wa- never an unwel come sight to me before However, old Ca'sar kne w all our troubles. H*- had been my childish confidant. * well as Dick's a* far hack I could re member. I steoned on !* SJiy. MINERAL POINT. WTS., FRIDAY, JUNE 7, 1878. *' Horry early. miss." said the old man. doubtless thinking I had come, as otion before, to help or hindor him in the garden. But his eye caught my satchel: his countenance fell. *• (doing away miss ?” he cried. “ Vos. Ca'sar. I’m off." “Fa uiss!" " I'on t know, Ca'sar, how far. It seems I don’t belong here, anyway." ” Slio, miss, don’t ee mind tilings. Old (';esar ’ll stan’up for yon. Don't ee mind ’em.” “ 1 can't help it, Ctesar." •‘Bless yer soul, miss! Why. miss, we haves a heap o' trouble nil on us an' liar's no telling whnr dey comes from, big un’little. Why. miss—sense me, miss—l s had dat trouble 'fore now wid my little toe, 'long o' squeezing on a pair o’ Sunday shoes, seemed /if 1 couldn’t stun’ it nohow. 'Beared like dat little toe didn't belong dar, nohow: was clur in de way ob de odder mem bers, and had orter be lopped right off. Hut, lor, miss, when 1 takes off them Sunday shoes after meetin', 1 find done sure dat little toe did belong dar—just dar an' nowhar else—an’ all it wanted was a little more room. See, miss?” I see, Ca'sar. Hut good-by now, or i sha’n’t catch the train:" and with an affectation of carelessness 1 hurried on. The garden smells and the sweet new morning all about seemed hiring me to stay; but on 1 walked steadily, till, look ing back at the turning of the road. I saw old Cav.ar standing under the popu lates waving his red cap to me. He too, it seemed, aequisced in the destiny that was sending me adrift. 1 felt a sort of sinking at the heart not quite in accord ance with my enterprise as the winging road shut him from view. Hut the bus tle about the depot, and all the sighs and sounds of travel, speedily dispelled my grief, and once in the cars, my spirit rose to the occasion. 1 nibbled a hit of cake, by way of breakfast, care-free and happy and confident. The city was quite inspiring as 1 en tered it—so delightfully active and bust ling that it took my breath like a draught of effervescing champagne. People were coming and going purpose ful and busiuessful; every body seemed to have his eye on some goal ahead to he reached in a given tune. 1 only walked leisurely along, enjoying the scene, and wondering to nnself if 1 should know Ihek should I meet him in this whirpool, or would he know me. All these faces were strangers' faces. ; Of all these people not one had any in terest for me. The gay scene dimmed for a moment, and for a moment 1 felt the chill of isolation, as the crowd swept by. i wondered was Dick as lonely, as wistful, as 1. The question was an swered hy a sudden heart thrill, for then 1 ,! lusty and ruddy, stood Dick before | me. 1 fear I clasped his hand with unne cessary fervor as 1 said, “Oh, Dick. 1 whore did you come from?" “ Where did you come from?" re sponded Dick, sharply. “ I—Well, Richard, I can't stand Aunt Margery any longer—l ain't'. no, and 1 I've left, Richard." “ Deft!" echoed Dick, thrusting his hut hack from his forehead, and plung ing his two hands deep down in his i trousers pockets. There was none of that cheery jingle of small change in them with which Dick was wont to play fully salute my ears. This silence was ominous. “ Where to go to?" added Dick, after a long, potentous pause. “Going to look for business." “Ah!"' “ Dick, how you talk! Put your hat on straight, and walk along. Kvery I body’s looking at us." “My dear," says Dick, facetiously, and laughing now and showing his w hite teeth, “ that remark of mine to which you take exception was prompted hy the fact that I'm out of u job myself. Suppose I was in quarrelsome mood af ter leaving the old lady's, for when law yer Gudge set upon me about neglecting the correspondence, coppying, and the like slavish business, I turned upon the old brute, and we had a blow-up. I'm out on the world’ dear, with a capital of twenty-five cents to begin on.” For two homeless waifs that sum was not extensive. I took my purse out of my pocket, never a heavy one at any time; hut now—U fate! (> evil, careless fate!—a hole revealed itself in the silken tissue, through which.had slipped noise lessly a nursling of a gold piece which I had cherriahed there, wrapped in a hit of paper, for a whole twelvemonth, I looked in my friend's face blankly. I was no princess, it seemed, coming to his rescue with golden gift*, hut an ad ded weight about his neck. “ Dick," I faltered meekly, “ I'm in tending to work for a living." “Of course,', was the answer. “Might 1 inquire what at?" “You know I can do' most any thing, Dick." “Jenny, child," said my companion, luokingjdown upon me henignautly, and stopping short in his walk (Dick always awed me when he assumed this elder hrother aspect)—“Jenny, child it's a hard-driven ->rt of a world you’ve put your tiny self into —a place w here it's a very hard matter to get a footing, and where, if your foot slip-, you’re sure to he carried out into deep water." Dick’s face darkened as he looked at the tide of people. “ Whatever'* a fellow to do?" Winding up his discourse thus abruptly, my friend pulled his foil hat down over Ids i'vos. and glowered from under it like a highwayman. I listened to this talk of Dick's, humi liated and ill at ease. Was 1, then, a aimless waif—a mere hit of drift-wood atloat in this human torrent? Kven Aunt Margary's chafing and chitling were better than this nothingness. 1 began to feel very weary. A remem brance of my quiet room and of the blossoming apple hough that hung over the window eatne to me vision-like. We stood before the window if a pic ture shop where a copy of some Kapha el M adonna smiled down upon us henig nantly. Her feet were on the clouds, stars encircled iter head; far away were the manger and the misery, yet perhaps she remembered them still. Regal m her a>:nre rope, she floated above this sordid w hirl, crowned and triumphant after toil and travail. A few tears crept to my eyes as 1 looked. 1 wiped them swifty away lest Dick should see them; hut he had already forgotten hi> sur liness, absorbed in contemplation of some gorgeous chromes. A something like mothorlv pity tilled my heart a- 1 eontemplated his bright face, so careless and unfurrowed in the midst of his troubles, and a suggestion came to me then, perhaps from the henifieient Moth er beaming down upon us. “ Dick, "said 1. abruptly, “I'm going back." “All right, little one," patting me patronizingly on the should?!’; “the very best thing you can do." “ Not to Slav, Hick," -aid I, vexed at the alacrity w ith which he accepted the proposition. "No; I've an idea in my head." ” Look so," n sponded Dick sententi onsly. “ 1 tick, listen me" -antliorilijiively. “ 1 shall sleep at Nurse Catterhy'* 10-nigld, and if yon meet me there. I’ll have some thing to help yon." “My darling!" cried Dick; hut 1 re pelled this later exhibitionolaff'eetion. “ Put me in the ears, my fiiend; I'm hungry, you know, and tired to death, yon know , hut there's no time to lose." In my feminine fertility ofrcsonreo I felt myself inlinitly superb'? to this helpless, good-hearted Inmpof a Dii k, ami I nodded my head to him gayly at parting, without thought of failure. And this was the suggestion which came to me under the snu(e of the Madonna. In my room at Aunt Margery's there hung a g. aid old fashioned time-keeper with a gold coin attached to its heavy chain, and a big seal wherein glowed a ruby. Secretly 1 regarded this as my own, for it had once been my mother’s, an heir loom of the family, the souro of end less disputes, as I had heard between the grasping elder sister and Die young er. My mother was of n high, spirit, and finally, in a tit of utter weariness and vexation. Hung the watch with all its glittering appendage, at her sister's feet. Aunt Margery had nevorretnrm and if —that was not her way—hut it had never been wound up since that day (so old Ciesai said), and long after my mother's death it inmg silent and shin ing in the room devoted to my use— perhaps a superstitious offering to the vexed spirit of the departed. I had determined to go hack without being seen, if possible, and get this watch, ap propriating It. a- 1 felt sure my mother would approve, to aid myself and my friend in our sore need. The ride seemed a long one: the road wound about in a manner I had never observed before, with a persistent dodg ing of the end, that gave me ample time for revolving ways and mean* for car rying out my scheme, till finally the 'moon shone out on the last evolution; and leaving the ears I trudg 'd on afoot until the sentinel poplars guarding Aunt Margery’s gate with their long hluek shadows came in view. It was with a beating heart, notwith standing my bravery, that I took the key of the side door from my pocket, and entered the familiar domiele at night-fall hke a shadow. It was easy enough to obtain access to the inner part of of the bouse from here, for most of the doors were careless ly latched, and I was not likely to meet any servant at this time in the evening. 1 remembered a certain wide window sill in the hall, groping toward which I sat down to rest myself, with acuriously scared and hunting feeling, which had not entered my calculations when I planned this audacious expedition. Then removing my shoes, I slipped softly through the long, deserted passage way to my own room. The door opened with a treacherous creak that seemed bent to betray me. It appeared an age before I was fairly within. This was my own pretty, pleasant lit tle room, the sheltei where I lead so often betaken myself from Aunt Mar gery’s rasping voice and incessant fault finding—where 1 had dreamed day dreams and revelled in nightly visions. This c herished and familiar little nook had chilled to me in one day's absence. It had giving p >sse.skm to a horde of shadow- that, mocking and gesticulating, flitted to and fro in the uncertain light. Perhaps the hree/e-hlown bran* he- of the elm outside played me this trick; hut it confused rne strangely, and ren dered rny search fur the watch a long one, tili it seemed as if some tritksome elf had filched it to distress mo. At length, however, my hands touched and grasped the treasure: the heavy chain glided with snaky coolness through my lingers, and 1 thrilled from head to foot with new and strange sensation. For at that very moment I hoard the door shut with a snap. This noise in it,seif was not startling; no one was likely to hear it save myself; but it .announced that 1 was trapped, a prisoner, snared in my own net: for the door closed with a spring, and I had left the kev on the outside. I put my two hands t,. my head and thought desperately for a moment. There was no possible egress now except through Aunt Margery's room, with which mine was connected by a nar row passage. How could 1 hope to pass through without waking her? For tust one instant I felt like despair. How was Ito help Hick now? It must be done. However. I gathered up my courage; 1 remembered the indignities 1 had borne, the needs ot mv friend, the absolute rightfuluess of what 1 was doing, and, strong in resolution, glided across the hall silently, slowly, lest the ghost of a foot-fall should rouse the vig limit sleepers w ithin. There was some | thing dreadful in this, after all. This strange advent among familiar things that look on the intruder with sinister , eyes is not a desirable experience. True, 1 was on a mission of mercy; but this fact failed to support me as 1 stood pois,>d on my (tint'sdoor-sill. A weak minded doubtfulness creeping in for a moment paralyzed my net \it v. iliis bauble hid been in Aunt Margery’s , possession tor years. Was it mine? was it tiers I lie “sacred right* of property" 1 had heard talked of so often: were my mother's sacred, r my aunts'. Ah! what would become of all the property in tin l world if right fully di\ ided W ould then Hick go out starving and houseless from Amu Mar gery's surplus of luxury ? Dangerous speculations, but brief. I swept them all aside like cobwebs. Never should I desert Dick in his time of need. Step-! ping oil tiptoe in my unshod feet, 1 es-! saved to convoy my heating heart as; far as possible from the old-fashioned I bedstead. Ii almost seemed Aunt 1 Margery might hear it in her sleep.! The low night lamp sent a thin thread I of light across the floor; it rested on I the heavy drapery festooned to the ceiling, which gave this couch an aw fill j 1 dignity in m\ old childish days. Audi I there, just opposite it. 1 stood traii'tix ! cd. There lay Amu Margery, with eyes , wide open, looking at me. I returned [ the gu/e steadily, I'rozenly. I know not 1 how long we might have regarded each j other thus, hut the parrot, in its covered ( cage within, croaked uneasily. Aunt Margery turned sleepily on Inn pillow, i “ Von are late, Jenny,’’ she said, querulously. “What kept yon so, ’child? Hand me the camphor yonder; my head aches dreadfully.'' I handed the camphor silently, and !of habit proceeded to bathe her Jiands, and forehead as usual, and then came the usual ininiinerahlc orders. A little Warm water from tin bath-room,a little mixture from the medicine chest. Her pillows needed adjusting, her lamp needed trimming, and thus was I chain ed to her side a prisoner, with that doubtful liinc-pieec in my pocket, and my brain dizzy with schemes for escape. Oh, what would Dick think of me, re creant that 1 was in his time of trial? i —poor Dick, watching vainly all this I time at Kale (' ilterhy's cabin, or wan dering on the road, mayhap, all tin 1 long night fall, meditating on the faith I lessucss of woman; then in the morn ■ ing, discouraged and hopeless, lie would drift away somewhere out of my reach. ! I hardly dared think of this contingency. To let go my hold on Dick was to give .up my hold on life. I'tterly exhausted | with the long watching, I fell a-leep at last, the heavy sleep of youth and wea- I riuess. I was aroused from this dreamless slumber by a sudden loud crash, a rapping and tearing at the window. Aunt Margery started ui> aghast, i “ Kohhers !” she exclaimed, clutching my arm. Hut there never could have been so bungling a robhei as this. 1 stood up and faced the intruder with wide-staring eyes. “ All right!" said a loud, cheery voice, “ The confounded sash ! ’ And there sto'sl Dick. *• Why, bless my heart, auntie, I beg your pardon—l’ll pommel old Oicsar in the morning for putting me in at the wrong window. Hut, Jenny girl. I’ve been walking the road till ! couldn’t stand it any longer. Thought you’d been robbed, or waylaid, or some thing—” Propped up on her elbow among the pillows, Aunt Margery looked out ma jestically and interrupted this tirade. “ Richard, ’’ said she. “ are von a fool?" “Couldn't exactly state to-night, auntie. Haven’t time to analyze. 1 only came to look after Jenny. Hhe’s all right, it seems, so i'll bid you good night. “ Dick," said the invalid, shaking her lona forefinger at him authoritatively, “ you’ll slay just where you are. 1 .ain't do without Jenny, I find—she can’t do without you, it appears,’’ “Of course not," said Dick, deliber ately taking a chair. “ 1 always was an appendage of Jenny's, yon know, and ! *hall be for tlii' rest of mv nntunUfo, I'm afraid. ‘‘•hist so screamed (ho parrotne ’’•'•gut sunny morning, ms 1 shed down stau> in a floating veil, andth my mother's watch in mv girdle, nl Margery's wedding gift! ' Dick as waiting tor me below, with henig face and arms outstretched. 111,- him stood old t'a's-vr in his host vies and Sunday shoes. •• Plenty of m now. miss, said the old man, stejtg admiringly aside for in v sweeping Ivjl train. Humorous. A question up for dehate before a cenm of a neighboring town is: “ a bobtale kat a.’ handsome a/, the egan the noo dollar?” In these demoralizing times, Kv lung will it be before a phonographs delected in uttering forged notes',’ o rinmti Sitimhvi Xipht. It will shortly be time to si! on e trout stoop with a girl and a .lap.u e tan, and listen to the street musical and the mosquito,— I'nvk, " do out, young man; she is not Ini'; said an uptown preacher last Snndy, in the midst of his sermon, to a yo(h whom he saw standing hesitatinglyin the doorway. Miss Kellogg says newspaper il'ti are just like lemons lit on tv t he squeezed as much as possible, I Ill'll tossed aside. Von just keep voir dis tance, t'lara Kellogg! Police! Pdiee! lin(fiilo i'rpriv* A man may elude a disagre'able ert'ditor for a long while sometimes, but there's one thing in this nnerrtutn \ah’of tears lie can’t dodge. When a sneeze has business with a fellow ft al ways finds him at home. Mr. 11 .did yon say, or did yon not say. what f said yon said? because (’ - said \ou said yon never did say what 1 said yon said. Now, if yon did not say that you did not say what 1 said then what did \ on say ? •bines says that lie bought at a church festival a strawberry slant cake, but it was hard to recognize it as such. It hadn't even a straw berry mark by which I" identity it, I'hibiilrtjihhy Itnllitii,. When a young man in Patagonia wants a wife he rides mil and lassoes om . and in the more civilized United tstairs of America, when a young man wants a wife, Iml does not come to time, site las-socs turn fm a breach of pro mise. A distinguished Japanese traveler in this country writes home; "The chief branch of education of young men here is rowing. The people have large boat houses (,Milled " colleges," and the prin cipal of these are Vale and Harvard.” When a paper starts out with the ex press purpose ol tilling a 1 long-felt want,' tills it in from one to four months, besides tilling the editor W’lh disgust and his pocket-book with patent-medicine or ders, and tium the end.- Svi'iiMquvi Urn,l,l. Tin' cle m riid will n.mii lig rlpii. V ml mi ill till' lipp'e gi'i'iul will ifflpp; W lull' p. I'l'i'inilnl mill pim tcoiii' Wil 1 imo!lni lln' mjuil) iiT riilli'. Hmjn' nml dirt*' WWlcly. Mater “Ho you enjoyed yourwiilk, Kill* 1 . I>iil yon go nil Unit distance aloneH.uighler—'“Oh, vci*, muni i)in, quite alone.” beastly Brotlier “ Then liow w it, Kit, von look an uni brella iiinl brought home a walking stick?” ‘'Hava you damp sheets in your home?" ankcd a guest of a manager of fipdiioiniMe hotel, as ho registered Ida name. “ No,” replied the manager, i " Hut I'll have pair dampened for you ii you wish.” Tim stranger retired. A cunning juryman addressed the clerk of the emut when adtninialurilig the oath, naying, “Speak up; I eannot hear what you any.” "Stop; are you deaf?” asked the judge. “Yea, of one ear.’ "Then you may leave the box, for it ii necessary that jurymen should hear holli sides. Scene at Theatre Matinee.—OenUe man (to lady)- "i fear there will he a null and we shan't get in.*’ Lady— '■ Not get in! what do you mean? There are very few matinee* where I ever failed to get in, with perseverance and —this big shawl-pin !” Two gentlemen were arguing in a pasture ('mid, with only a goat for an audience. In reply to a statement of the one, the other said: “ I know, hut” —Tim goat took him af his word, and the argument was continued on the other side of the fence, —(Hndnnuli Urenk/aul Triple. A young man who had recently been admitted to the bar, and to u partnership with his uncle, came into the office one day and proudly announced Unit he had settled an old matter that find been in litigation fora long time, “Settled it!” exclaimed his uncle —“ settled that ease? Why I've supported our family on Unit for the last ten years?” “ How did you come to know her?” asked a mother of her little girl, as she saw her bidding good-by to a poorly drened child at the church door. “ Why you si e, mamma, she came into,Sunday school alone, and I made a place for her on my seat, and 1 smiled, and she smiled, and then we were acquainted." No.ra