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r] IE HERALD.
I) JUTFMAX A MCOOX.UJ), W-ES31NGTON SPRINGS. D. T. IKE HIS MOTHER USED TO MAKE. -n born In Indluny, says a strange*, l-inli and slim. I im' ell'TS in tiio restaurant was kind o' A:i'l I tf.lVill' l'l"1- until .1 nil'! .lake W19 i.et slitlin' lilm another .Hniilikiii pit! ... r»' 1,l i'. extra ciil lii o' coffeo, with a twinkle in .lira in Iii'liany—more'ii forty year 'l'iriint been back In twenty—anil I'm •N'' w^rkin' back'urds slow ]V1. ,.i in every restaurant twist here -ni'l Santv l*Vi, 'i want to state this coffee tastes like u-itiin" iii'ine to me! iv.nr us another, daclily," says the feller, vaniiin "P ,. it, »ni- iivin1 crost a saucerlul, us uncle tuck 'li:3 i-up— I ,I (1 voursurn out vender," he wont ,, i0 m-le.luke— .1 1,11(1 in and Kit. some coffeo like your liiotlifr aseii to inaki-'— t! niiL'lit of my old mother, and the Poaoy iVintv farm. i,h "little kid agin', u-liangin' In her the pot a bllin'—broke the egg» iionre 1 'phi in"— 1 fi fler kind o' lialted, with a trimfolo in his chin. Mul -nu ll! .lake he fetched the feller's coffee iclv. and stood -okimi. icr a minute, as u* undertaker .a lie"'n o' turntkl and tiptoed to'rds the kitc'nt'it door—nnd next, ii.j-. omfs tils old wife out with him, a-rub l,i„- of her specs .„i „jie nislic.s tortlie stranger, and she hoi i,.rs nut "It's him! -uik we've met himcomln'! Don't v"u know vour mother, Jim:"' ..,,1 tin' teller, lis lie grabbed her, says: "You I hain't tin-got—- wipin'o' her eyes, says ho: "You cof- tec's mighty liot!" —James Witcomb Riley. A DEADLY AMBUSCADE. How "Boss" Wright Was Killed in Early California Days. A Typical Pioneer Sheriff—An Outlaw'* Ks cape, and tho Fatal .Vttenn* to lie. apture Him—llis Ultimate Trajjle Knd. One dark, rainy morning in Febru ary. a few years ago, I was aroused I'liitt a deep slumber by the gradually dawning consciousness that what had been, in niv dreams, a mixture of a thunder-storm and a boiler-shop, was, in reality, but ihe bony knuckles and thick-so'lcd shoes of thejporter playing a discordant duet on my chamber door. When the elerk retired to bed, some time in the small hours of the night, he left at my request, certain hieroglyph ics mi the ollice interpreted to lady or as Sl' ll, slate, which the porter mean that there" was a gentleman in No. 27 who de sired to be called for the Marysville :iIT'": and the porter was now simply ••ndesivoring, gently, as he no doubt im d»'ined. to arouse the occupant of No. '.'7 to such a condition that he could impart to him the intelligence that the* stage would be'at the door in half an h.mi'. Having succeeded in awakening Hot only the drowsy occupant of the bombarded room, but every one sleep ing mi the second lloor of the hotel, he explained the object of his clatter in a voice indicating an insurable pair of lungs, and then stumped his way through the passage and down the un carpeted halls, followed bv muttered imprecations which floated through the .'pen transoms on both sides of the hall. Had 1 been a lady—which, fortunately for myself, and perhaps others. I am not— I would undoubt edly have fainted from fright. As it was. I a Ruse hastily and dressed my s"!f quickly as possible, desiring to get down by the ollice lire to subdue my chattering teeth and to devote as much of the limited half hour as there remained to preparing myself for the coming journey with a hot breakfast. 1'oUi of these objects were accom plished. and I was at peace with all lie world and financially square with the host of the Union, the jolly and portly Xatl'ziger, when the stage drove up to the' door. TIIIC ST A OK. It had licen raining in an intermit tent manner for nearly a week, and the night before a steady shower had in in to df the quiet, persistent, un ciiaiigaijle kind, which is only encoun tered along the base and sides of the Sierra and Cascade Mountains. It was still raining, and the driver, whose oil •-i-.in hat was shedding little streamlets water upon his oilskin coat, told me 1 would tiini room on the inside, a piece of new.s which was. under the circum- inees. exceedingly welcome. This ^'a.- not one of those Concord coaches, mounted on huge pyramids of springs, •which cause it to roll like a vessel in a gi'tnl,. swell, Avagon, but a small, dead-axe mud containing two seats and no percept ilile springs, a vehicle whose perpend cnlar and lateral movements :V'c made in such an abrupt and impul- :'lve manner that they can neither be t-cipated nor concurred in they can snuply l)(i endured, provided one keeps t\ teeth carefully closed and at a safe distance in front of his tongue. That t'lli kind of conveyance which is used during the rainy season, and is called "stage"' with as much courtesy as is bestowed upon the reddest or yellowest four-seated, double-decked Concord. I pushed aside the wet canvas flaps and gazed into the interior, finding three men occupying three seats, just leaving room for me beside one of them. Before I had fairly wedged my valise under the seat and myself on the fop of it, the driver started his team of four down the street and across the bridge leading over Deer Creek at a rattling pace, tiie mud and water living from the wheels in a perfect shower, •ihe three men who were my traveling companions were encased in three heavy canvas coats, and were industri ously pulling at: three pipes of assorted sizes and materials. That they were miners was evident, and 1 soon learned that one of them was the superintend ent of a hydraulic mine at Blue Tent, and the others were pipemen at .some other claim whose name 1 have for gotten. 1 opened the conversation by remarking that my pipe was in my vali.se. and if they would excuse my of style 1 would smoke a cigar. al bitin" m? the end off ?Zebefore some 'fiend had given D10 th© nijjht fn the trip. 0 smoko J'S^ke away," said it looks as strong as OVElt durinS one of them I did as pipe, in every re- .a smoke, and soon found it E,fqA,al t0 itS looks' w° at oncc* were thus on sociable footing, and conversation flowed easily on the various topics suggested by the numer ous slight incidents of the journey, and objects observed as we passed along. A. ltOUGlI KOAD. There are a number of stage roads leading out of Nevada Citv, "and the best one is thtit which connects that thriving mining town with its prosper ous mal. the quartz-mining city of tira.ss alley, though it would have been hard to have convinced us of that fact that rainy morning, as the sta«-e splashed through mud-holes and bounced over corduroys, holders, stumps anl other appurtenances of a mountain highway. The conversation, which filtered in short, jerky utterances through the jolts, or, technically speak ing, the "dips, spurs and angles, rami fications and sinuosities" of the mud wagon, was extremely diversified, touching upon many subjects but one topic I will never forget, a tragic tale related by one of my companions, the details of which, as I afterward learned by careful inquiry, were true in every particular. Just on the edge of Nevada Citv we passed opposite the mouth of a gulch, down which flowed a tributary to Deer Creek, and across which, some dis tance up the stream, was stretched a long, high trestle bridge, a portion of the narrow-gauge railway which con neets that region with the Central Pa cilic at Colfax. "That is Gold Run, suppose?" I ventured, as I held the side curtain back so as to get a better view. "Yes. that is the famous Gold Run, one of the richest diggings ever worked in California," answered the oldest of my companions, whose appearance in dicated that he had knocked about the mines since the argonautic days of '49. "Early in 1850 they were known through the mines as'the 'Deer Creek Pound Diggings.1" "Pound diggings?" I said, interroga tively. "Yes when claims averaged a pound of gold dust per day to" the hand, the locality was generally spoken of as "pound diggings." "It was all worked out long ago, I suppose? "lres, with the exception of certain hydraulic operations, which might be carried on there yet. Rich as it was, it is more famous for being the scene of the tragic death of Boss Wright than for its great yield of gold," "Who was Boss Wright—one of these highwaymen who, I am told, infested the mountain highways and trails in the early days?" "Not by any means. Mo was the Sheriff of Nevada County. There was a highwayman mixed up in the affair, however the noted Jim Webster, of whom you have no doubt heard." "I can't say that 1 ever heard of the gentleman, but go ahead and tell us the story, if von can manage to squeeze it in between bumps. We have plenty of time, and 1 would like to hear it." "BOSS" WRIGHT. And between bumps I was told the following story: The Sheriff of Nevada County in 18 "6 was W. W. Wright, familiarly called "Boss Wright" by every one. He was a man of great integrity of character, firmness and courage, and discharged the duties of his ollice so thoroughly and yet so kindly, that evqry one, in cluding the numerous prisoners from time to time under his official charge, loved and respected him. Every one was eager to do a favor for Ross Wright. An incident will illustrate this feeling exactly. In July, 185, the city of Ne vada was devastated by lire, and the Court-house, which had just been erect ed at a cost of "(),OOU, was burned, to gether with other property to the amount of 51,500,000. When it became evident the Court-house would burn, Wright rushed to the jail to liberate the prisoners. He had been working desperately in his endeavor to subdue the flames, and was completely ex hausted, so that after opening the jail door befell fainting near the entrance, overcome with the smoke and heat. Among the prisoners was a powerful man named George Lewis, who was confined under indictment for murder and had been denied the privilege of bail. Instead of making his escape when thus liberated, Lewis returned, lifted the unconscious Sheriff upon his broad shoulders, and carried him down to Deer Creek, where he bathed his temples with water till he revived. When he saw that Wright had fully re covered, he said: "Now you are all right, boss, where shall I go?" "Go where you please," was the re ply. "only appear before the court on Monday morning." He actually showed up the next Mon day, according to his instructions. The tfourt convened in a building which had been spared by the flames, and you may imagine that'thcre were neither gowns nor wigs to lend dignity to the occa sion. The Judge, Niles Searls, so well known in political and judicial life, who had lost his all in the fire, presided without a eoat. and was arrayed in a blue flannel shirt, borrowed for the oc casion. Coats were ran among the ttflicers of the court, anil what few there were looked as though they had held a discussion with a barbed wire fence. When Lewis jut in his appearance, the grateful Sheriff related the story of his heroism and Judge Searls at once ad mitted him to bail, the bystanders eagerly offering themselves as bonds men. LewisJiad'been a saloon-keeper in Nevada City, and had killed a man under peculiar circumstance.--. One night a prize-lighter, having filled liim seU with an assortment of bug, taran tula and other juices kept in the town, entered the saloon and declared his in tention to whip the proprietor. Lewis did not stop to argue the question with the belligerent, sportsman, but immedi ately drew a revolver trom beneath the counter and shot him dead. These facts appeared in the trial, and, in view of his conduct at the lire, it only took the jury five minutes to bring in a ver dict of not guiltv. THE Ol.TI.AW. Every story has to have its villain. and this is no exception to The individual in this case Webster, a celebrated outlaw, whom every one residing in Nevada and Yuba Counties in 1855-6. well remembers. Early in 1855 Jim wasl quietly mining in Timbuctoo, apparently as harmless and free from guile as any miner, when he lost his claim in a dispute. This seemed to embitter his spirit and make him reckless. The worthy citizens of Timbuctoo had just laid out anew cem etery, surrounded by a pretty fence, and overlooking the town from the slope of a sunny hill. There it lay with its gate invitingly open, while no one seemed to accept its hospitalities and locate a claim-among the manza nita bushes which covered it. This was an evil which Webster felt called upon to correct. He took his revolver and and went out prospecting for candi dates. In a neighboring ravine he en countered three of the men who bad wronged him. They had shown so much eagerness to jump'his claim, he thought they also might like to locate one among the. manzanitas on the hill. Three shots from the revolver laid three corpses in the ravine, and pro vided material for inaugurating the" graveyard with all due solemnity. This was the beginning, and now the "silent majority," from their narrow homes on the brow of the hill, gaze down upon the deserted streets anu crumbling ruins of Timbuctoo. as one by one the minority desert the old haunts and are carried up the hill to be laid away in their midst. After this exploit Webster took to the road, and lived upon the contribu tions of the traveling public. He de voted his attention chiefly to the moun tain roads of Neveda County, the one we are now traveling being a favorite with him. In this wilderness of forest and brush, over mountains and through deep canyons and rock}' gorges, it was almost impossible to pursue a fleeing robber with any hope of success. It was a veritable robbers' paradise. A price was put upon his head, and many efforts were made to earn it but no one dared to hunt him openly, as his repu tation as a lnarksmtrn and his reckless courage held them at bay. He fre quently entered the various towns and mining camps, and walked boldly through the streets, no one feeling per sonally called upon to molest him. As sociated with him were a number of hard characters, such as invariably gather about an outlaw who has the ability and courage to lead and control them. But there is an end to every thing, and one day Jim was pounced upon and turned over to the care of Boss Wright. This was a few weeks after the big fire which destroyed the Court-house, and Webster was confined in a temporary calaboose. He and a fellow-prisoner tool: French leave one night, but were traced tc» Smartsvtlle by Hank Plumer and Bruce Garvey, and captured while quietly sleeping, each with a big six-shooter under his pillow. This Hank Plumer was quite a noted case. At thU time he was Mar shal of Nevada City, but a few years later lie was suspected of hold ing too intimate relations with a gang of thieves, and was finally caught in the act of robbing the very people who had elected him to protect them. He evacuatotf at ouce, and went to Idaho, where he became Sheriff of a county, and flourished as.a member of a gang of road agettss and horse thieves, whom he protected by means of his oflicial position. Finally th* people learned the true Inwardness of the sit uation, and organized a Vigilance Com mittee, which strung up Sheriff Plumer and about a dozen of his gang, which put an end to the whole business. THE AMBUSOADK. Well, to return to Webster. He only remained in jail a few days. One night he again made his escape, ac companied by two others who belonged to Tom Bell's gang. You've heard of Tom Bell, I suppose?" "Yes, I've heard of him, but nothing very definite."' Well. I'll tell you about him some other time. 1 mustn't mix him up with the present story. You can well im agine the excitement when it was learned that Webster had escaped again. Armed parties went in search of him in all directions. Just before dusk the following day two horses, fully caparisoned, were found concealed in a secluded spot in Golil Hun, just a sliort distance beyond the railroad bridge you observed spanning it as we came along. It was at once assumed that these animals had been placed there for the use of the escaped prison ers, who were supposed to be lying in concealment somewhere until dark ness should give them a favorable opportunity to reach the horses and ride away. A number of residents of Gold Flat, which at that time contained quite a mining population, organized into a posse un der the leadership of L. W. Williams. There were ten or a dozen of them, whose names I remember being J. B. Byrne, Wallace Williams, Thomas Baldwin, (J. H. Armstrong. R. S, Wig ham and Thomas Loekhart. These men went quietly to the place where the horses were concealed, and hid themselves in the bushes to await the expected arrival of the desperadoes. While these preparations were being made by the people of Gold Flat, who would no doubt have been successful if they had not been interrupted, provided, of course, that they were correct in the supposition that the animals belonged to Webster—the news was carried pri vately to the authorities in Nevada City. Boss Wright at once organized a pariy for the same purpose the Gold Flat men had in view. This consisted of him self, Hank Plumer, David Johnson, William Butterlie'd and Lewis Teal, Receiving the news later, and having farther tojgo, they did not reach the spot till lohg after the other party had concealed themselves. Darkness had .settled down among the trees that skirt the side of the ravine, and fearing that the robbers might have already ar rived, Wright and his men advanced with great caution, utterly ignorant of the Gold Flat party lying in ambush. These latter saw thv otlicers stcalingup the ravine, and congratulated each other upon the success of their plan, thinking, of course, that the me» ap proaching were Webster and his friends." "BOSS" WKIOHT'S DEATH. Hank Plumer was in advance, and when a few tiaces from the tiWibuscade mmm ehe rule. stopped and gave a tow whistle, which Was Jim brought all the others to his side. Just at this moment one ,of them observed Armstrong behind ajtree. and hastily whispered the fact tj the others. Both parties were now awire of the presence of the other, and Jich supposed the other to be the otrlaws. Wright at once shouted: "Rush ftp, boys!" and started toward Arristrong with his re volver in his hand./ About ten feet dis tant he stopped a*(l inquired, peremp torily: "Who arc' you?*' "A friend," said Armstrong,' who still believed Wright to be onejof the robbers. Not satisfied with th* answer. Boss again started forward, ind Armstrong fired. This was the sig^il for a general fu silade, and for' several minutes the woods echoed wth pistol and gun shots, the flashes of tie weapons being the only guide the combatants had as to the proper plac/ to direct their aim. 1 ully half a hundred shots were fired, and how long the battle would have lasted had not the mistake been dis covered, no onefcan tell. Plumer rec ognized the voile of Williams as he gave orders to lis men in a loud tone, and caught a gimpse of his face lit up by the flash of l|s own pistol. He at once shouted: ''Williams! Williams! stop liring for G6d's sake there is a mistake!" Instaitly the combateeased. and some of the pen collected a little brush antl made-a lire, by the light of by which they wer^ able to'see the sad re sult of their fatal error. Lying dead upon the.OTOund was the brave and generous WrigSt, a pistol ball in his chin and his brtfesttorn by a dozen bul lets from a gun. David Johnson was mortally wounded in the breast, but was able to walk to Armstrong's house, where he soon expjred. W right's body was tenderly borne to town by his frieni^s of both parties. It happened that thu was the night be fore the Presidential election, and an enthusiastic procession luyl just pa raded the streets itul drawn up before the speaker's stani to listmi to a stir ring address on tli^ duties cf the mor row, expecting to hear the usual rhet oric, spread-eagleism and scathing comparison of the '.relative virtues of the "ins" and the 'touts." The orator arose and advanced slowly to the front of the platform, stretching out.his hand to check the demonstration of welcome which was started ^mong the audience. With a voice chokell with emotion he announced the sorrowful intelligence that the man whom every one looked upon as a friend wits dead. He briefly related the circumstances of the tragedy, and then jlismissed the people to their homes, saying that he could not speak to them that night. This was a fitting tribute to the memory of a brave maq, and such as few but Boss Wright would have received. The elec tion occurred the next day. and the day following was the funeral and in spite of the animosities of the political con test, every man, woman and child, ir respective. of politics or religion, as sembled to pay their last respects to the man whom all delighted to honor. "That is all true as Gospel." said one of the other men, who had maintained silence during the narrative, "for I at tended both the political meeting ^and tii A fun Mr «il the funeral. "I have no doubt of that," 1 hast ened to remark, "none whatever." "Well, I tell you what you do," said the man who had spun the varn. "You said you were a newspaper man, and no doubt want to write this up for your paper. I can see it in your eye. Be fore you do that you call on Judge Searls, J. N. liolfe, and a few old tim ers at Nevada City, and ask them about it. You might see Judge Thomas II. Caswell also you'll find him at the Masonic Temple in Sail Francisco. And, by the way, you can lind J. B. Bynne, one of the participants in the light, still living at Gold Flat." [1 will remark here, parenthetically, that I did call upon the gentlemen named, and they all vouched for the substan tial accuracy of all that is herein re lated.] "WEBSTER'S FATE. "Yes, you are correct about my de sire to write this up, and to make it more complete I would like to know what became of the cause of this sad tragedy. How about Webster?" "Oh, yes. Well, Jim was soon aft-. laid by the heels in Yuba County, and taken to Marysville, where tiie jail proved strong enough to hold him until he could be sentenced to San Quentin for twenty-live years. The next. August, when he had been an in mate but a few weeks, he made his es cape with eight others, and was never recaptured. Just what became of him is uncertain. One thing is sure—he never returned to his old haunts in this region. His subsequent career is some what traditionary, but 1 will give it to you as it is generally believed. He began his old life in a new field, and soon gathered about him an other band of followers, whom he ruled in an arbitrary man ner. His career was brief. One day while in the Coast range he quarreled with a member of his gang, and gave the fellow notice to leave before morn ing or take the consequences. The man knew that Webster meant what he said, and that he was a dead shot. In fact, if you might believe the stories told of liim, he could handle the re dver as neatly as Dr. Carver does his rifle. The man determined not to leave the camp, but he did not dare to risk a shot from his unscrupulous chief. So that night, while the camp was wrapped in slumber, he stole softly to the side of the sleeping man, and drew the bullet from his rifle. He could have killed him, but that he dared not do, since his companions would avenge the death ot their chief unless he was killed in a light. When Webster arose from his blanket beside the smoulder ing remnants of Uic eauip lire the next morning, he was astonished to see the banished robber serenely sitting on a stump, a few paces awav. His wrath boiled over at the man's presumption. 'So you didn't leave?' he exclaimed, as he raised his gun and fired at the cause of lus anger, who made no efibre to shield himself. Belore Webster could recover from Ins astonishment at seeing the man still sitting on the stump apparently unarmed, his intend ed victim coolly raised his gun and shot him dead." Just as the narrative was concluded the .stage jolted up to the open door of Empire Ranch and old Tom Mooney came out., and in his usual breezy uiun- f::- 'V.-.'-v -'Y-r—'• ner counted noses for dinner.—JTarry L. KrcW., in San Francisco Call. TAKEN FOR A TRAMP. Clerk Wlw Expoctcil to Faralylita a Stt»iige 1ine.it, Hut Wa* Pulverized. There is no denying the fact that he looked seedy. His hat was of the "shocking bad" order, the cut of his coat of antique style, his general make up of the modern tramp school. Try ing to dodge a cart in crossing upper Broadway yesterday, a gentlemen of the above description blundered against a vehicle coming from the opposite di rection, and smeared his hand with tar grease oozing from one of the hubs. It is a good thing to have clean hands, although manut'.l uncleanliness is no uncommon thing in. this great, bad city. Walking into an adjacent hotel, the mail of smeared hand proceeded to wash himself in one of the marble basins for lavatory use. "Can'tyou read?" asked a stylish young man with a cutaway eoat, richly particolored scarf and a glittering dia mond scarf .pin. •'I can," answeredvthe stranger, as he vigorously rubbed the ball of soap over his smeared hand. "Whv do you ask?" "Because there is a printed notice over your head that you should read and heed." "Ah! I see," was the stranger's cool rejoinder, raising his eyes and reading the notice. "For exclusive use of the guests," and then he continued in tho same cool tone: "I had not observed the notice before. It is not an original dea, by any means. I have seen it requently in hotels, but it's intensely stupid—has no meaning in it. One of the rules of the house, is it? What nonsense! What constitutes a hotel guest?" "I don't want any of your conun drums, old fellow," indignantly inter rupted the young man, his flashing dia mond paled by the fiery flashing of his eyes. "You are not a guest of the ho tel so get out of here." "Who are you, that you should talk to me in that way?" asked the stranger, in the same tone of imperturbable calmness, and scanning his interlocutor with a keenly-scrutinizing gaze as he began to wipe his hands on the immac ulate towel suspended from a roller. "I belong to the hotel. I am the clerk," quickly answered the young man, with that professional air of colossal importance and supreme con tempt for ordinary mortals which it is expected will be followed by an imme diate paralyzing efl'ect. "Then I don't mind," said the stran ger. "I am not as frightened as I might have been. I thought surely the hotel belonged to you, instead of your belonging to the hotel," "I don't want any more words you get out of here, quick." "Young man," and the words were uttered in a slow and deliberate, tone, "I want to give you some advice it's very old and trite, but it is very good for a fast young man like you. 'Think before you speak 'Never judge from appearances.' Impress these aphorisms o» your feeble mind. The fact is "But 1 teli /ou again, get out of here," fairly screamed the young man in his increasing rage, "or I'll call policeman." "I won't get out of here, and no policeman will put me out, either. You insultingly called my attention to that printed notice, 'For exclusive use of the guests.' Now, understanding clearly, the moment a stranger steps foot over the threshold of a hotel he is the guest of that hotel and entitled to its privileges and comforts for all the privileges and comforts he chooses to avail himself of he can be charged. j« to nt: It There is no law restricting him in the freedom of his choice, and neither is there any law compelling him to stay longer than he wishes. I desire to avail myself of no further privileges at this hotel, and I propose to leave at once. Now, I want to sec the proprie tor anrl pay my bill." "There's nothing to pay, and if there was you probably haven't a dime about your clothes. There's the door." "My young friend, I see that avenue of egress, and I propose to utilize it in my own good time but I see you will not take advice. I've only one word more with you," taking the young man by the collar, who paled and quivered under his wrathful grasp and menacing eye. "I have only just arrived in this city, but if 1 meet any more like you I shall do two things—enlarge the boundaries of my private burying ground and found an asylum so long needed in this country for that large class of imbecile cursed fools—hotel clerks." "1 have used your wash basin, soap and towel," the stranger said to the proprietor, whom he found in the of fice, "and 1 want to pay my bill." "There is nothing to pay," politely answered the proprietor. "But 1 insist on it," taking out a large roll of bills and extracting a ten dollar note and laying it on the coun ter. "If it's more than the bill would be, use the balance in trying to germ inate brains and develop good man ners in your hotel clerk." "But, sir The stranger disappeared. Later in the evening the gentleman—a promi nent lawyer of this city, and cx-Jndge of one of the higher courts—recited the above story to a party of gentlemen dining with him at Delmonico's. He had just come from the mines of Cali fornia, having gone tl$rc in a spirit of adventure and to improve his health, and he retained his mining garb until his arrival to astonish his friends and amuse fiin^self over their puzzling fail ures to recognize him. It is hardly necessary to add that the ideirot an asylum tor hotel clerks was received as one ot the brightest indications ot the progressively philanthropic spirit of ihe age.—.V. 1". llcrnld. —Manlius, the Roman, is said to hayc put his own son. though victori ous, to death for disobeying orders, and Oassius Brutus killed a son who had negotiated with the enemy. —Celerv tour feet all and measuring a foot and a half round the lower stem was raised the past season in Swamp seott, Mass.. by 'olonei John Jeffries. -Boston Biulaet. PITH AND POINT. —"Love begets love," sings the old long, but how are you going to recon-i tile that with tho homwpathic claim that like cures like?"—Rockland Cour* ier-Joimial. —Inquirer asks: "Why is it that so many dogs have fleas?" To be perfect ly honest, we think it is because thera are so many fleas. This, however, is merely conjecture.—Xorridown Her ald. —"Can you tell me, sir," asked a young lady at a book shop, "in what order Thackeray wrote his books?" "No, lady," replied the gentlemanly salosgentleman "but. don't yer know, I guess it was in order to make money." —A famous cook says: "The secrets of good cooking are fire and flavoring." Wc never thought so much about tho flavoring, but we always understood that you couldn't cook anything except raw oysters without at least alittle lire. —Burlington Hawkey —A woman scoffs at evidence show her .the sun and she will close her eyes and say it is night. (laborion. True and show her your turned-back watch when von come in from the lodge and Bhe will open her mouth and reply: "Oh—you you—. It is past mid night. and you know it, and, etc.—Phil adelphia Call. —It was just after the tiff. "I won der," snarled Romeo, "if we shall Know each other in Heaven." "I would remember you. of course," replied Juliet, with tender emphasis "but of course 1 couldn't know you without meeting you." And a period of silence as long as a centennial poem crept into the room. Romeo kept thinking about one thing and another and one thing and another and one thing and anoth er.—Burdette. -An Englishman, Frenchman and American were discussing the merits of [lainters of their respective countries. The American after listening to all the others had to advance in favor of their countrymen, remarked: "Wall, yes, I sruess they did some tall painting, but there was a young fellow in ourvillage, find he got a piece of marble and paint* ?d it like cork, and darn me if it didn't float.—Augusta Chronicle. —A Galveston lady has a brother tvlio is an artist, arid of whom she is very proud. She imagines that her brother is a great painter, but he is not. Not long since, a gentleman, who is a good judge of pictures, visited her. She showed him one of her broth er's pictures, expecting him to praise •t. After lie had examined it carefully, he asked: "At what trade did you say your brother was engaged?"—TexasOO I & tf tings. —A certain punster in Cincinnati, in terested in the street ear lines of tho city, recently received an addition to •lis family, and a friend met him two ar three days afterwai'd. "Hello!" wa3 Ihe greeting, "stranger at your house, hear." "Yes," was the reply. "Boy or girl?" "Girl I'm right sor ry, too, for I wanted a boy so 1 could ?all him 'Oscar." "Don't let that dis turb you," remarked the other wretch, "just call her Car'line."—Merchant Traveler. EDUCATED MECHANICS. Forcible Kemurk* Which Apply to Women uk W«?il as Mo:». The successful and valuable mechanic, who is always in good demand at good ^ay, is he wli« thinks as welt as works. Seeing, feeling and hearing are the three senses of all others with which we are endowed, the most important in aiding to a knowledge of our surround ngs and while this is a truth that all' admit, yet their education is generally neglected until the young man starts out to learn a trade, especially what is termed mechanical trade, for, byi me chanics in this connection is intended to convey the idea of attempting to con trive, to put together, manufacture, or change by manipulation, so that even a woman who fashions a dress out of the unformed and plain material is just as much a mechanic, so far as it goes, as the machinist who with the rough, ungainly stone makes the sparkling gem or the beautiful tool from the sombre bit of iron ore. The use of me chanical tools can not begin too early in life. It makes no diflerenee whether the pupil is to be a practical mechanic, or to follow some other calling—there are few, if any, vocations that do not demand for success some practical knowledge of mechanics. "The whit tling Yankees" probably owe much of their success and undisputed position as inventors and good mechanics to the habit of using a pocket knife. A very prominent inventor and .superior me chanic recently remarked that the bent of his taste as a mechanic was undoubtedly given by the school master of his youth. This teacher was a carpenter and joiner, working at hij trade in summer ayl teaching in win ter. If a boy did not own a foot-rule, he made one for him out of a bit of shingle, and so accurate was the eye measurement that he could mark off the inches and fractions that a square would fail to show any mistakes. In those days this teacher considered the foot-rule and pocket knife as indis pensable as the slate, hence he en couraged his pupils to own them, and to measure distances with the eye, sub sequently verifying by means of the rule. Wind wheels and water wheels were considered a part of the pedagogue's training, and the click-clack of one or the other could be heard all about the school house and on the borders of a brook in an adjoining tield. At this day ana age we need more carpenter school masters less, of technology. A knowledge of mechaniesand mechanical movements is ot more use as well as ornament in a business training than an intimate knowledge of the definite ar ticle or Greek verb. The man who talks learnedly ot languages dead ere we were born, may derive satisfaction from hearing liirn talk, but the man. whether clothed in broadcloth or jeans, if he can explain the mysteries ot the unseen, is always a welcome guest in any society. Those remark™ apply with all their force to females as well. What man who lives would compare a well cooked meal and tidy wife to a welcome homo by a slattern, who asks him in some foreign jargon what he wants for sup per. —Aj'.- of Steel. ?liSP