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
“What's your name, dear?” she asked
“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
“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
“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
“Tommy,” said he, “you need not be
afraid of the truth. Didn’t you take
the gumdrops ?”
“No, I didn’t,” replied Tommy
“Oh! yes you did, Tommy. Now tell
“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
“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
“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
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
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
“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
“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
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
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
“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 ?
“I know it. What of it ?”
“It’s mice, Joseph, and they’re after
“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
“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
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
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.”
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
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
[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
As on poor earth fair Heaven would put a
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
The Less Business n "2an Does the
More He Talks--A Few Examples.
“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
“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
“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
“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
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 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.
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
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
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.
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
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
And give Customers
the Benefit of our
|/we try to do one thing veil,
\ J by Belling Dry-Goods
Eighlh~MarkEl Slsf tjila
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.)
Carpets for Spring 1884
A specialty in
Brussels, Superfine Ingrain, Hull and
Stair Carpets, Shading,
anil everything pertaining to a Carpet Store.
Please call and examine goods.
■I. R. GRAHAM,
No. 40 East Commerce Street.
CLAYPOOLE & PARSONS.
Si Gamenters, Si Smls,
AXU MANUFACTURERS OF
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
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.
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