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Mr. Pritchard lifted him cut of the wagon and sat him down on the door step. What a little fellow he was, and that a wondering, pleased look there was in his eyel He had on coarse shoes, a blue check apron, and his pretty, brown hair was cropped close under the shabby cap. It was almost too cold a day for such a little boy to be out without a coat. Mrs. Pritchard took him by the hand to lead him in, and the little hand clung confidingly to hers. “What's your name, dear?” she asked pleasantly. “Tommy Bobbitt,” he answered, readily. “Am I going to stay here?” “Folks all dead,” said Mr. Prichard. “Mother went a month or so back. I told them over to the county-house we’d take him and try him; and if he suited, we’d keep him, and do well by him. We don’t know what kind of stock he is yet; and if I find any mean, dishon est tricks in him, back he goes. We don’t want to adopt a dishonest boy. “Oh! I know Tommy will bo a nice little boy,” said the wife kindly. The Pritchards were farming people, and well-to-do. They had never had a child of their own, and, after much con sideration, had decided to adopt a boy when a suitable one could be found. Word reached them that a child 4 years old had recently been left upon the town; and Mr. Pritchard, on driving over to see about it, had brought the little fellow home on trial. Nobody knew how dreary and for lorn it had been in the county-house for a little 4-year-old boy, suddenly left friendless. And nobody knew how his little heart ached for the dead mother, who, though very poor and unfortunate, had sheltered him to the last. But now in his warm, new home, he brightened into a rosy, pretty boy. He had new shoes and stockings, and Mrs. Pritchard made him a little coat, with a motherly instinct growing in her heart with every stitch. He learned the different rooms, and ran about them fearlessly, he made funny little speeches, he jumped and laughed like other happy boys, and climbed boldly on Farmer Pritchard's knee, when that good man sat down to take his ease after supper. “He’s got meat in him,” said the farmer, nodding approvingly; “but I don’t know whether he's honest yet. That’s the thing on my mind.” Tommy had been there a week—had one week of sunshine—when the black cloud came down upon him. Farmer Pritchard had a cough which was apt to trouble him at night, and on thg bureau, near the head of his bed, he kept a few gumdrops, which he could reach out and get to soothe his throat when the coughing came on. One forenoon chancing to go into the bed-room, his eye fell on the little paper bag, and he saw there was not a single gumdrop left. “That rogue, Tommy, has been here,” he said to himself. “I know there were five or six when I went to bed last night; and, for a wonder, I did not have to take a single one. Tommy! Tommy! Look here! Have you been getting my gumdrops ?” Tommy, who was playing in the door, looked up brightly and said: “No; I did not get any.” “Hid you take them, Lucy?” asked the farmer, turning to his wife. Mrs. Pritchard had not touched them, and her heart sank as she said so; for who was there left to do it. but. lit.Ho Tommy? Her husband’s face grew grave. “Tommy,” said he, “you need not be afraid of the truth. Didn’t you take the gumdrops ?” “No, I didn’t,” replied Tommy readily. “Oh! yes you did, Tommy. Now tell the truth.” “No, I didn’t.” “This is bad, very bad, indeed,” said Mr. Pritchard, sternly. “This is what I have been afraid of.” “Oh Tommy!” pleaded Mrs. Pritch ard. “If you took them, do say so.” “If he took them!” repeated her hus band. “Why, it is clear as daylight.” He had been running in and out of the room all morning. But Tommy still denied the deed, though the farmer commanded, and his wife implored. Mr. Pritchard’s face grew' ominous. “I’ll give you till noon to tell the truth," ho said; “and then, if you don’t confess—why, I’ll have nothing to do with a boy who lies. We’ll ride back to the poor-farm this very afternoon.” “O Joseph!” said Mrs.Pritchard, fol low'ing her husband into the entry. "He is so little! Give him one more trial.” “Lucy,” he said, firmly, “when a youngster tells a falsehood like that with so calm a face, ho is ready to tell them by the dozen. I tell you, it’s in the blood. I’ll have nothing to do with jv boy that lies. Perhaps the fear of going back will bring him to his senses.” He went out to his work; and Mrs. Pritchard returned to Tommy, and talked with him a long while, very' kindly and persausivelv, but all to no effect. He replied as often as she asked him, that he had not touched the gum drops. At noon Farmer Pritchard came into the house, and they had dinner. After dinner he called Tommy to him. “Tommy,” lie asked', “did you take the gumdrops?” “Mol didn’t,” said Tommy. “Very well,” said the farmer; “my horse is harnessed. Lucy, put the boy’s cap on. I shall carry him back to the poor-house, because he will not tell mo the truth.” “Why, I don't want to go hack,” said Tommy, very soberly. Hut still ho denied taking the gum drops. Mr. Pritchard told his wife to get the boy ready. She cried as she brought out his little warm coat and cap and put thorn on him. Hut Tommy did not cry. Ho comprehended that an injustice was done to him, and he knit his baby brow and held bis little lips tight. The horse was brought round. Mr Pritchard came in for the boy. I think he believed up te the last moment that Tonpy would confess, hut the little fellow stood, steadfast. He was lifted into the wagon. Such a little boy he looked, as they drove away. He thought of the cold, for lorn house to which he was returning, and shuddered. The helpless old wo men, the jeering boys, the nights of ter tor—all these ho thought of, when, with pale face and blue lips he was taken down from the wagon and sent up to the house. Farmer Pritchard watched him as lie went up the steps, a slow, forlorn littlo boy. He went in. The matron came out for an explana tion. It was given and the farmer drove away. The farmer laid afresh stock of gum drops on his bureau at niglit, and thought grimly that these were safe. He retired early, uot knowing what else to do; but his sleep was broken. Mrs. Pritchard could not sleep at all. The tears stole through her eyelids long after the candle was put out, and the house was still. She was UilliaiUg KJL A* V UD UUY, C Y CIA U1DII, perhaps, cowering in his cold bed with terror. Suddenly a curious, small sound at tracted her attention. It was repeated again and again, and now and then there was a tiny rustle of the paper. The sound came from the bureau. Sho listened intently, and her heart beat loud with excitement. She knew the sound well. “Joseph 1” she whispered. “Joseph!” “What, Lucy,” said her husband, in a voice that sounded like he, too, had been lying awake “Did you hear that noise, Joseph ? It's mice!” “I know it. What of it ?” “It’s mice, Joseph, and they’re after your gumdrops.” “Good gracious, Lucy!” groaned Farmer Pritchard upon his pillow. It flashed upon him instantly. He, and not Tommy, was the sinner. The noise stopped. The little depredators were frightened, but soon began again. And a rare feast they made of it. It seemed as if that night would never end. The farmer heard every hour the clock struck, and at 5 he got up and made a fire in the kitchen. His wife arose at the same time and began to get breakfast. VI won’t wait for breakfast,” ho said. “You can have it hot and ready when we get back. I’ll harness up and start now, so as to get over there by dawn.” In a few moments the wheels rolled noisily over me frozen ground out on the road, and away drove Mr. Pritch ard in the morning starlight. Mrs. Pritchard brought out the top and the primer again, and made the kitchen look its very cheerfulest. Then she got breakfast. She baked potatoes, and fried a chicken, and made fritters. She put the nicest syrup ou the table, and a plate of jelly tarts. She laid Tommy's plate and knife and fork in their place, and set up his chair. The sun had risen, and the bright beams fell across the table. She went to the door and looked up the road. Yes, they were coming! They drove into the yard; they stopped at the door, and the wonderiifg, smiling little Tommy was lifted down in Mrs. Pritchard’s eager arms. She held him very tight. “Oh! my lamb! my blessing!” she murmured, womanlike. “Lucy, come let's have breakfast now,” said the farmer, cheerfully. “This little chap's hungry. He’s our own little boy now, Lucy. He's never going away from us again.” Judge Cadaver Off on a Tour. [Detroit Free Press. ] “Judge Cadaver will please stop dis way,” said Brother Gardner, as he motioned to Samuel Shin to raise the alley window and let out the odor of burning bootleg. The judge came forward with a pressure of 250 pounds to the square inch, and the president continued: “Judge Cadaver, a society at Defiance, Ohio, known as ‘De Aggregation of Philosophy and-Science,’ has requested me to send ’em down some member ob dis club who kin deliber a lectur’ full ob interest an’ instruckshun. I has selected you. Heah am $8 in cash an’ a railroad pass, an’ you will leave heah to-morrow afternoon.” The judge looked so meltingly sweet that everybody began to grin. “I now desiah to spoke a few remarks to you,” said the president, as he laid aside his spectacles. “You are gwine among strangers. You will meet wid black-legs and bondholders an’ all odder classes of men. “Doan’ talk too much wid your mouf. “Doan’*ry to make anybody believe dat you am a millyunaire. “Doan’ stop to bet ou de string game or three card monte. “Doan’ puvtend you know what you doau’ know an’ nebber hoard of. “Doan’ stop to argy religun wid in fidels nor pollyticks wid a young man who can’t wote. “If anybody calls you ‘kernul’ you needn’t stop to explain his mistake, but at de same time doan’ hiro any one to call you ‘perfessor.’ “If you lose your money by playin’ policy while you am gone, come home by de highway an’ say nuilin to no body. If you am knocked down ant robbed you kin telegraph us an’ conn’ on receivin’ bout fo’ dollars in cash. jjats an, judge, an you kin now re sume yer roost.” H'leer MtatiNties, Dr. Charles Roberts' report to the anthropometric committee as to tho average bodily growth of Englishmen was based on tho measuremnt of over 53,000 individuals, and contains some facts of general interest. Thus it ap pears that between the ages of 11 1 and 141 girls are taller, and between 121 and 151 are heavier, than boys of the same age. The public-school boy at 14 averages nearly seven inches more in height than the industrial-school boy at the same age. Prize-winners aro found to have a decided advantage in height. Tho curious circumstance is stated that Fellows of the Royal Society are more than two inches above the average height. Bill Arp: One of tho most pitiful spectacles in all nature is u poor man with a rich man’s ways. George Fleming: It is a poor busi ness looking at the sun with a cloudy face. NOCTURNE. [Clarence Clough Buel.] I love thee as the steeple loves the star Above It, wooing in the sparkling night, When the duenna moon is out of sight, And gossip planets wsud their course afar. So worship I, though frowns thy beauty mar, Like clouds wind-strewn between me and thy height, As on poor earth fair Heaven would put a slight, While yet 1 gaze unceasing where you are. Hath Love no bow to fling.a shaft to scar Thy calm heart, skied iu maiden constancy— Mocking the archer with its flashing light! Ah, this I know: Thou art the zenith star Of a celestial sphere whose canopy Covers the heart that’s in the old, old plight TELEGRAPH BORES. The Less Business n "2an Does the More He Talks--A Few Examples. [Chicago Tribune.] “Wliat is the hardest part of my work?" remarked a clerk at the receiv ing window of one of the larger tele graph offices. “Waiting on a dozen men and listening to them all at the same time ? Deciphering unreadable messages? Answering questions about rates, wires, and delays? Making a directory of my self for the whole coun try? Trying to attend to customers aim uvuiu musing misiases m tne mes sages and money I’m counting from tlie time I begin until I’m oil? Listening to inventors describe their inventions? Of refusing to lend money to tramps, and buy stuff of them because they are broke—for a good many chaps appear to think a receiver is a kind of pawn broker? No; all that is easy enough. The hardest job I have is to wait on the people who send a message once in live years. “O yes; there are plenty of people in the world yet who never used the tele graph wires in their lives. I see one or two of them every day. They consume more of my time,occupy the window, and put out more people waiting to thrust their messages in than a dozen men who send each a hundred telegrams a day do.” “I get tired,” he continued, “I grow weary of listening to a careful account of all the circumstances that induce them to make the great step of sending a telegram, and of a large portion of thoir personal histories. But the worst and hardest thing is to make them un derstand that we handle several mes sages every day, and that theirs must take its turn with the rest. Our wires are crowded all the time, but the fellow who telegraphs something unimportant, to New York say, can’t be made to comprehend that his dispatch can’t be sent and delivered inside of a wink. That’s the idea most of them have of the telegraph. They want to see it go. If our operating-rooms weren't sacred to all save employes these once-in-four-years’ customers would overrun them. The omer uuy a mau sioou rigni mere wnere you are and talked to me half an hour by that clock explaining why he sent the only message he had ever sent in his life, and in every other sentence asking me where the answer was. In vain I expostulated and explainedrbut he wouldn’t move until they shouldered him away. “Then there’s the ignorance of these people, too. Yesterday a woman came in and sent a dispatch to her husband at Rock Island. In she came just eight times before 6 o’clock to see why he didn’t answer. Finally we got word from the manager that the man couldn’t be found at the address given. I tried to make her understand it, and how do you suppose she took it? Said she: ‘I don’t believe yon sent the message at all. I watched the wires and I never seen it go. You took my 30 cents and gave me nothing, and I’ll send my brother-in-law down to mash your eye.’ And I’m expecting him every minute.” The 'Drying Up or Springs. The Scientific American discussing the increasing deficiency of the water supply in the New England and .Mid dle states, so detrimental to the manu facturing interests depending upon run ning water for motive force, expresses the belief that the deficiency cannot be attributed to forest destruction because the forests in the regions named were long since cleared away and the scant supply of water is a feature of the past few years history. A gentleman who has given this subject much attention has suggested that the drying up of springs and swamps is largely explain able by reference to the fact that within the last ten or fifteen years, the busi ness of laying drainage tile on lands desired for agricultural purposes, has increased enormously and the work I nuun .v ui,uuiBc system periorms must effect the sources which supply water to the pond and streams where mills are located. rl he same system may tend in the west to aid in the produc tion of floods in the Ohio river, bv in creasing the drainage from adjacent I lands. Ancient Ualleys to He liaised. The Archamnogical society of Athens ; has decided to make researches et the ; bottom of the sea in the bay of Salamis, where the famous naval battle between the Greeks and Persians was fought. The water is not very deep in the bay. As the present stato of technical science enables the society to adopt ellicient means of investigation, and as the association p. ssesses the necessary financial strength, it is hoped that the enterprise will succeed. Since the Greeks lost about fifty, and the Per sians nearly two hundred galleys, which have since been lying undisturbed at the bottom of the sea, it is thought that it may be possible to bring up some complete specimens, or, at least, por tions of them, which may afford more accurate knowledge of the naval arch itecture of the old Hellenes and the Persians than can be gathered from their writings. The attempt is looked forward to with great interest. The Plittrorui Uladlator. The Nation.] The platform speaker has his especial dangers as conspicuously as the lawyer or the clergyman; ho acquires, inseusi bly, the habit of a gladiator, and.the bet ter his fencing the more he becomes the slave of his own talent. In a College of Phonography. [Croffut's Letter.] I stepped into a college of phonogr* pliy the other day. On entering I wan a little surprised to see a tall and strik ingly handsome woman whom I had often met in society here, plodding away at a desk. “O yes,” she said: “Iain seeing what I can do with phonography." Half a dozen other ladies sat around al desks and four or five gentlemen, all busy with the dashes and dots, shop herd's crooks, and pot-hooks. I asked the proprietor for some news. He didn’t know of any, he said, except that stenography (as rapid phonogra phy is now called) was coming more and more into use every year. I re marked on the number of expert women stenographers, and askod him if they wore paid the same as men for the same work. “Yes, generally,” ho said. “The fact is, they are in a position to command it. When a woman has a high degree ol manual training in work that the world needs she can stand for a good salary and get it, just as a prima donna does.” I asked if stooping over a desk so continuously was healthful. v/ j lO) uu niuu, who way, (lid you ever hear of the shorthand cure?" I acknowledged having heard of the fruit-cure, tho fast-cure, the water-cure, the sun-cure, and tho prayer-cure, but not of the shorthand cure. “A lady drove up here in her carriage one day,” he went on, "came in and said she wanted to study phonography. She wore a sealskin cloak, a $50 bon net, and her fingers were loaded with rings. ‘I would like to go into the class with Miss T-,’ she added. I told her that would be impossible, as Miss T. had taken eighteen lessons. She said: ‘I have taken none, but I will catch up.’ I answered that it was im probable, but she could try. She went at it, took twenty lessons in a week, and caught up with the class, able to write fifty words a minute from the reading of a law-report. She staid till she became a 100-word writer, then said she guessed that would do. “I asked her if she was going into professional service. She laughed and said no. ‘Will you tell me what you learned phonography for ?’ I inquired; *1 have been rather curious.’ ” “‘Certainly,’ she replied; ‘for my health. I was a society woman up-town, going night and day. “ I got so that I couldn't sleep. I took morphine—a good deal of it. My doctor told me I must stop, and change my life or I would break down. “What shall I do ?” I asked. “Learn phonography,” he said, “or anything that will thoroughly divert and occupy your mind. Phonog raphy is first-rate.” ‘I came here - .. 1 -A-- J * 1 . . 1 Tl “AX'-* OVUU41/U, HO ^ VJU HUU I* , J. UCf'lil IU j sleep. I stopped my morphine. My health is restored.’ She left here anil went into the art school, and now her paintings hang on the walls of the i academy. J “There is a new wrinkle in plrono ! graphic work,” said my informant. “I mean not only the increased demand for commercial reporters, but more es pecially the increased demand for com mercial reporters who understand some ; modern language. If they can write j with facility German and Spanish they ! command $3,500 or $4,000 a year. , Spanish is deemed especially desirable j on account of our rapidly-growing re > lations with Mexico and the South ! American countries. Ilaytien Military ['.locations. »l Concerning these military executions as they are done in Hayti, one is forced to admit that they must really be very disagreeable to the person who is shot. To begin with everybody is liable to be militarily shot. To the squad at soldiers on duty that day the execution is entrusted. Often one has to be of the squad to shoot a friend, acquaint ance or relative. Then, also, the gov ernment is apt to change its mind from i day to day, and be very revengeful on the morrow against those who on the eve have done the shooting. The great point, therefore, with the soldier con cerned in these executions is not to | shoot straight, so as to be able to be afterward morally convinced that he has missed his man. In consequence, at the word “Fire 1” every soldier averts his face and pulls the trigger without looking at the victim. The result is that the poor condemned fellow is half missed, half wounded, almost half killed at repeated times, and that the firing has to be begun over three or four times until death finally ensues. ‘The Evil «r HoKin;, The London Lancet discusses the subject of rising at the end of sloep. Dozing it declares is not admissible from any reasonable or health point of view. The brain is the first to fall asleep and is followed by the active organs, and it is only perfect and natural when shared by all the several parts of the organism. ‘ All the parts of them system are not equally ex hausted, and those least fatigued soon est wake, while those most exhausted are aroused with the greatest difficulty. The several nnrt.si nf fl>o ........ should need rest at the same time. To bring this about a person should “wake early and feel ready to rise; this fair and equal start of the sleepers should be secured, and a wise self-manager should not allow a drowsy feeling of the consciousness or weary senses or an ex hausted system to beguile him into the folly of going to sleep again when once his consciousness has been aroused.” The writer declares that a man who will not allow Limself to doze, will, in a few days, find himself almost uncon sciously “an early riser.” The Pope’s Uuard. There are now twelve vacancies in the Papal guard. Applicants must be 27 and of good height. There are forty-eight regular men and eight who are termed “exempts,” and who are called upon only on state occasions besides eight cadets. The pav is *:J00 a year, and each man is expected to possess spl80 of his own. The service demanded is by no moans arduous. Southwestern Christian Advocate: We look with distrust upon the stato that makes the marriage of white and colored a crime, and yet has no statuto defining and punishing adultery. SILKS! SILKS! SILKS! HALL’S are now opening their Stock of SUMMER SILKS, Etc., I Consisting in part of ONE LOT STRIPES at 50c. VERY CHEAP. “ “ “ 65c. Worth 75c. “ CHECKS “ 78c. Cheap at 90c. A Special Bargain is our SOLID COLOR SILK at 75c. These Goods are well worth 85c One lot of SOFT HEAVY SOLID COLOR SILKS, AT $1.00. Sold last year for $1.25. One lot EXTRA HEAVY SILKS at $1.25. Sold last year at $1.50. BLACK SILKS. In all grades and qualities. GOOD BLACK SILKS at 75c. and 85c. We have Black Silks that we will Guarantee Not to Cut in Wearing, at $1.00, $1.25, $1.35 and upward. j COLORED AND BLACK RHADAMES AND SATIN SURAHS. LEWIS S. HALL, 26 South Second St., Philadelphia. __ -12-Q_Q> a a « GOODS MF DLL P" BROUGHT DIRECTLY FROM loom to Counter! And Sold at tho Lowest pos sible Prices, because /WM \ mail; \How ) And give Customers the Benefit of our Knowledge. |/we try to do one thing veil, \ J by Belling Dry-Goods PTnlllsiunlr -r SffAWBRIDlMLii’PHSER Eighlh~MarkEl Slsf tjila CARPETSi FURNITURE! Call and examine the stock of Furniture and Carpetings, At our new warerooms, 1022 and 1024 Market Street, Philadelphia. G. IB. SCOTT &c GO. Late of Second Street, but entirely removed. mar 13-3m s3inf THOMAS M. LOCKE. C. C. STEWART. 939 CAKPETS. 939 All Kinds of Carpets, Oil Cloths, Mattings, Window Shades, Rugs, etc., etc. Parties furnishing will do well to call on us and examine our goods before buying. Special inducements to cash buyers. We respectfully solic it a share of patronage from our Now Jersey friends. New Store. LOCKE & STEWART, New Stock. 93!) MARKET ST., PHILADELPHIA, (second door below Tenth St.) mar tf-SmsSinf GRAHAM’S CARPET STORE. Carpets for Spring 1884 A specialty in Brussels, Superfine Ingrain, Hull and Stair Carpets, Shading, Boor Mats anil everything pertaining to a Carpet Store. Please call and examine goods. ■I. R. GRAHAM, No. 40 East Commerce Street. leb 28-tfin* CLAYPOOLE & PARSONS. Si Gamenters, Si Smls, AXU MANUFACTURERS OF Oyster Dredges! WILl, MAKE Oyster Dredges at Ten Cents per pound, And give a guarantee of perfect satisfaction. All dredges will bo made by David Cday poolk, the experienced dredge maker, who will give ids whole attention to that branch of business. Wm. H. Parsons will attend to the vessel building. The complete success that he has had in the past, will warrant us in assuring all that wo can give perfect, satisfaction in the lino of building oyster boats in the future. CLAYPOOLE & PARSONS, nov 15-3m Cedarville, N. J.