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m. Vt 1 f' tr v&i |i 1 1 I 1 1 Li |l ^1 T11E HERALD. ISA'FEM W A cl)0\ALD. WESolNUTON SI'KIXCS, D. PRAYING FOR SHOES. A Boy's Thanksgiving:. LA Trur Incident.] On dark XnvcmlHT morninjr A lady walked slowly down Th* thrniijrcd. tumultuous thoroughfare Of mi ancient seaport town. Of a winning* and gracious bcnuty. The peueo on hei* pure younjr 1'ucc "Wiis soft up thoKl^niof im anjiol's dream In thcjoalmsot1 a heavenly place. Her ryes were fountains of pity. Ami the sensitive mouth expressed A Jonyinjj-to et the kind thoughts free In niusie that lilied hot* breast. She met, by a hrijrht shop-window, An urchin. timid and thin. Who. witi» limbs that shook and a yearn ing look. WasmisUy Khtneinjr in At the rows and varied ehiflter* Of slippers and shoes out^ rearl« 8omi\ slMmmi'rintr keen, but of somber sheen. Some, juirpie ami green and red. His pale lip? moved and murmured: Hut of what she eould not hear. And oft on bis folded bands would fall The round of a bitter tear. "Whai troul'3«'S you, child?" she asked him. 1 voico like the May-wind sweet. lie urned. and while pointinn- dolefully To hN naked and bleeliny J'eet, 4lJ \va prayina i'nr shoes." he answered: r\!u.«t 1«kiiv at the splendid show'.)) 4,i wa« prayinir to (iod for a single pair. The sharp stones hurt me so 1", She led him. in mu^eful .-Henee, At onee hruiiirh lie open door. And his hope yrew hrijrht, like a fairy lijrht That tliekered and daneed before?! And there he was wash'-d and tended. And his Miiall browr. I'eel were shod: And he ]»ondered there on his childish prayer Ami he marvelous answer of (iod. Above them his keen /raze "wandered. llosv strangely from liop and shelf. Till it almost seamed thai he fondly dream»"! oj looking on hin\self. The ladv bev.t over and wbisjiered: "Ai'e you happirr now. my lad?" lie Varied, atid all his -onl Hashed forili in a rnuitude swill and ^shid. "J hippy Oh yes 1 I am happy!" Thi'ii 'Wonder with reverence rife. His eyesafi'low. and his voice .-link low*: "I'huts• tif .irr H'.iti (»nifV vift:.' J-Jnniitiit i'trjih, in X. V, lnh:i»ml )if. THANKSGIVING STOIIY. How Joy Trod Upon the Very Heels of Sorrow. How quickly joy trends upon Use vorv hods of sorrow, or vi verm! Never was this truism mure full}' il lustrated tli: on a certain Thankst iv- IZ ing 1):lv at Grandpa Asliton's. AH of the young and most of the mid dle-aged people of their church and neighborhood called Mr. and Mrs. Ash ton by hocnilearing title of •'Grandpa" and "Grandma." so 1 am taking no liberty hatcver. Tlic day before the one appointed by the Go\ernor as a national holiday was bright and cold, and with just snow enough on the ground to make fair sleighing: and merrily indeed the sleigh boils jingled as the good people of Itushyille went hurrying about on thoughts of business or pleasure. Jrandpa ami Grandma Ashton were i)ld and poor and sad. It is surely bad enough to be old and poor without hav ing business worries besides: but Grand ]:l Ashton lind been dreadfully worried about a certain dei.it that he owed, until uve.ryiiiiug looked blue enough to the dear old man. and Grandma., suspect ing something wrong, was beginning to sigh very frequently, and waicil Grand pa wiih tender, sorrowful eyes: so the business trouble was reaih taking all the quiet peace from their old age, and if not actually unhappy, they were, like ly to soon become so. When Grandpa came in from milking cow.-, on the morning before Thanks g\\'.!ig 1 lay In*, brought a big rooster under hi.- arm. and opening the kitchen uoor said as cheerfully as could, be to minima: ••Set- ii'Te, mother! .Is this fellow to be eaten to-morrow? 'spect we'd uu^'ht: to make a liule preparation, hadn't we. now? Xothin' great, of course, fur iis* us wo, inn suthin' a lit tle out of iht* ordinary run—and with one of your (.rl/'ii nice cream pies, and a few otln.r little iixin's, 1 guess we'll do." ••Ves." sighed Grandma, don't care mueii any way: but as you say,we'd ought to take some kind of notice of the 'lay. seein' the Governor's been and ap pointed it. I hadn't made no calcula tions about the dinner, father, cause I felt so certain some one or other of the children would insist ou us comin' to eat. dinner with them. You're sure there wasn't no letter in the postollice last night, ain't you. father?" •'Yes, sure: but 1 reckon I'd better chop this young feller's head oil', now I've got him safe and sound. 'Tain't so easy catchin" 'em when you're stilV with rheumatism and hard on to seventy, as 'twas forty vein's ago. I kin tell ye." The simple breakfast didn't seem to taste good to Grandpa: he nibbled at •one tiling and another, and sipped his tea. and tinaliv he said: "I've got some bad news for you, mother, and I dttnno' when I've haled to tell anything as 1 do this." Grandma raised her head so suddenly that her snowy cap border stood straight •out. framing a pale face, and she raised one hand as if to ward otV a blow. •'Which one is it father':'" she asked, Iier nights, mother-like. Hying to her children. "I thought something was wrong somewhere. I jest felt it some way." ••The children's all well and happy, fur as 1 know." replied Grandpa, "hap pier by along sight than their old father, •who's got to be turned out of house and home, l'retty hard, mother, ain't it, after all the savin' and pinchin' we've done for the last tifteen year or more?" (Jrandma began to sob in a weak sort of way. She asked no questions, know in"' well enough wha'. he referred to without iurtlicr oxp, was a mortgage on the little house and rocky farm, which they had been vainly trying to cancel for many years. The holder of the mortgage had told Grai*l pa that he was going to foreclose on it the next week and the property would bo sold at auction to the highest bidder. "I wrote to Ezra and Abram about it some time ago and I 'spose. you've told Manner and Liddy, but they haint got a word to say, it seems, i" don't expect they'll let us sufl'er, mother—don't cry so—bat it'll be kind of hard to be de pendent even on a child of your own— and I'm awful afraid they don't none of 'em want us. they're all silent lately, Wal," taking down the old family Bible, "the Lord never has forsook us, mother, and His promises is certai*. We've got a dreadful load of trouble to carry, we'll ask Him to help Out us, strength." r\'he and give lis old man's voice ceased to tremble as he began to read the clicsen chapter. For nearly half a century he had read and prayed morning and eveningin that low roofed kitchen, and now with locks bleached to silvery whiteness falling over his brow, and hands trembling with age and emotion, he called again on the Lord, and for the first time, ex cept in secret prayer, he bwsought help in this great extremity. Let us glance into the l^mes of the four children, whom this worthy couple had reared and sent out to till their chosen places among the: world's workers. Ezra, the oldest, was a minister in a town sixteen miles from the old home. It was to complete the payment-of his college bills that his father had bor rowed money, and he always intended to help pay it up, but. his small salary was just sullieient to "brin^ the year round." Two weeks before the homelv little incidents just related took place, the minister received a long letter from his oldest sister. Hannah, which set him to thinking. She had the true New England gift of going straight to the point when she hail anything in particular to say. Site reminded him of his superior educa tional advantages directly, and of the cost of the same indirectly, and then un folded her plan thus: "Now I propose that we all goto father's Thanksgiving Day. and each of us four earrv one hundred dollars to ward lie debt of four hundred, and a present besides from every ehihl and grandchild. If you're short- of means 1 will lend you your part, and you can pay me ten dollars a month until paid, and no one but us two need to know anything about it. I've written to Abe and he consents, and Lydia will put in one hundred, though I expect it will cost her some pinching to do it, as you you know her husband is rather ciose with money." The minister thought long and sadly of the winter's needs, and finally called his sweet, patient little wife into the study and told her all about it. She looked sorrowful but brave as ever, and re plied, "It is only right, my dear we can and must trust the' Lord' to supply our actual wants. I can easily give up the new winter dress and cloak I had planned to buy, and perhaps your over coal ii'tmld last another winter." ••IIow many times have you given up that self-same dross and cloak?" he asked smiling sadly. "Only three," she replied, "but never mind that. We've two weeks to get ready, and we ll bend all our energies to do our part handsomely and well. Dear Grandpa, how happy he will be." So an answer was speedily sent to Mrs. Ayres, who lived twelve miles from her early home, but in an opposite di rection. Silt was very busy, btn found time to drop them a hasty note to "make no preparations for the table. Lydia and I will attend to all that—liv ing on farms as we do it will be nothing for us, and I've written the same to Abe. Just set that you're there with wife and children, and we'll see to the rest." Abram, the second son. lived in the city a hundred miles away. He had married a fashionable wife and had four children. IIis wife had never met her husband's relatives but few times, and some way he hated to tell her about the mortgage and "sister Hannah's" plan. Histirst thought was to send a hundred dollars, but stay away from the festival. However, he thought better of it. espe cially when lie remembered that Mrs. Ayres was coming soon to visit them, and lie knew it would all come up then and be thoroughly aired in her straight forward way. Mollis wife was told part and gussed the rest. The plan caught her wayward fancy at once. "A grand surprise on Grandpa and Grandma Ashton!" she exclaimed "how delightful! ami the children shall carry lovely presents." Tlit train from the city reached the village of Kushville at about Hl::.iO a. in., and in another hour a double sleigh from the livery stable, with scarlet lined robes, and drawn by horses proud of their jingling bells, drew up at the old, leaning gate at Grandpa Ashton's. Grandma heard the hells and was looking out of the window. She had just put the one chicken nicely sttitled in the oven to roast, and potatoes, cab bage', and squash were on the table dressed for cooking. "Why, father!" she exclaimed, "there's a big sleigh stopped here, and the folks are a gettin' out. Who can they be?" Grandpa hurried out to see, but be fore they had reached the door Grandma recognized her son. After the lirst sal utations were over, and the two older children, almost young latlies, critically examined through spectacles to set whom they "favored," poor Grandma could conceal her anxiety no longer. "1 do wish you'd written, Eliza. I didn't expect any body and we haint, got much of a Thanksgiving dinner. lean get more vegetables ready, to be sure, but I guess one chicken will seem rather small for eight of us, but I haint time to—" ••Never mind, mother," replied Mrs. Ashton sweetly, knowing more than she wanted to tell, "we came more to see you than to eat a line dinner." A loud laugh from the children at the window and a clapping of hands— "A load from that way see Anna, see!" Yes, and see, one from that way too both got to the gate at once!" Grandma was bewildered as they came trooping in dressed in furs and heavy cloaks, for all had taken a lone ride. Worse and worse! that ooor chicken peacefully roasting in the oven wouldn't furnish a mouthful apiece. How could they be so thoughtless! thought poor Grandma. "It's a surprise," shouted little Mabel Ayres, a rogue of ten summers, "and surprisers always bring baskets, ahd we've got four packed full of—" "There child!" ejaculated Grandma, dropping into her chair with a sigh of relief, "that's the most comfortin' tiling I've heard to-day. I was afraid you'd most starve. Do, father, see if the other room ain't gittin' warm: we shall swarm herein a minnit-" Mrs. Ayres, an energetic, stirring, handsome matron of forty, took the helm of affairs in hand at once. "Go right into the parlor, mother, and don't give another thought to the dinner. What isn't here alretdy will bf when Liddy gets here. I exnect them here every moment." I shall not describe that dinner, and I hope nobody will be disappointed thereby, only 1 must say that if doubt ful if such roast turkeys, or chicken pies or plum puddings were s«cn on many tables that day. A half bmr in a good hot oven made them forgot their late journey, and they tickled the palates of the ten elders and twelve youngsters in the most approved fashion! After the older people had eaten their dinner and returned to the little parlor, Mrs. Ayres tarried to supcrintmd that of the children. "Now," said she briskly tJ her two blooming daughters of fourteen and sixteen, "I leave things in vour hands. Don't get noisy nor run into the parlor we don't want to be disturbed." Then she went to her father's s:de, anil draw ing up a chair, sat down, and in her sensible way alluded to '.lie debt on the old farm, spoke of theij sympathy and desire to help him, and before the dear old man had thought of such a thing, the four hundred 'dollars lay in crisp new bills in his hand. There was a moment's silence. Grandpa tried to spjak but something choked him. "I've a little gift for Grandma," said Mrs. Abram, in her pretty, graceful way. coming forward and placing in (J rand ma's lap a dress pattern of Ij'laek cashmere with a fifty dollar bank note pinned to it. "Well, so have 1, now that I think of it, said Mrs. Ayres. "Husband do run out to the shed and gat that roll out of the, big sleigh." •'Husband" walked sedately out and brought in two comfortables, bright and new-, while sister Lydia proudly pro duced a pair of soft, white, 'flannel blankets, spun and woven by her own hands. Mrs. Ezra modestly laid her gift of two caps of tine lawn, 'with beau tiful hemslitched rallies, on (Jrandma"s knee. All in all it was too much for poor Grandma. She burst into tears, and could hardly keep from confessing that she had cried twice the day before be cause she feared their children had for gotten how old and poor and sad they were. "Come, come, mother," said Mrs. Lvdia, kissing the withered cheek. "Don't let the children see a tear,please they couldn't understand it at all, njd they are going to just about swamp you both witii their little gifts pretty soon. Teddy has brought four quaus of his cherished store of butternuts, a little bag of beachnuts, and a big bag of popcorn.'" "And Linnie," added Mrs. Eii/a, "insisted on bringing drandma ahd drandpa some tandy. So you will have gunulrops and caramels enough to last you all winte.v." Grandma wiped away the last tear before the children came trooping in, bringing pin cushions, chair cushions, needle books, erotcheted slippers, a shoulder shawl, a handsome work-box and knitting basket, besides dozens of other useful things. Uy-and-by Grandpa hushed the chat tering throng in tlie kitchen, and sitting in the door-way between Hie two rooms, he read some of the sweet prom ises of the Savior to His sorrowing chil dren, and such a prayer as followed! None who heard it ever forgot the pa thos, the triumph of faith." the dee.:) thankfulness that God had given him such loving, dutiful children. "Well, well!" exclaimed Grandma, when all were gone except Abram and family, who were to remain a few days, "I don't, believe there's another such a surprised but thankful and happy woman in the hull State uf New- Hampshire as I be: and it's all I can do to keep from feelin' proud of my children and grandchildren." "I ain't a try in* to," replied Grand pa. quietly, "and there ain't no sin in i'eeliir as I do. for if a ton had been took oil" iny back I couldn't feel no lighter, I'm too happy to say much anyway. Children just sing 'I'ruise Coil from whom all blessings llow.' Amen."-—E-mjltj Kcever, in Woman''& (,'t:nlury. —Mr. Thomas Fowler, of this county, has recently returned from the moun tains. In hunting for some .specimens while then he happened to break open a large rock, disclosing the following legend ou the inside: "II. Rees. 1SU2." How the inscription came to be on the inside of the stone is a mystery we are unable to solve. Mr. l'owler brought the half of the stone containing the in scription home, and it was on exhibition at the court-house for several days.— Woodford (Kij.) Sun. —One of the superintendents of the porcelain manufactory at Sevres, M. Lauth, is saitl to have discovered a new kind of procelain, which he represents as far superior to the celebrated old iSevres—in fact, after some ten years of investigation and experiment, he thinks he has produced a procelain identical in quality with that of China. Kot only does the new article lend itself to artis tic decoration in variety, but it takes all kinds of glazes, and surpasses in beauty the colors of China. —One of the eagles in the New York "Zoo" picks up a log of wood weighing ninety-six pounds and flies around with it.—iv. Y. Sun. —Tobogganing will this winter be [a popular sport of at least fifty -American cities aud towns. (Jhkiujo Journal, A MUSICAL DUEL. A Rapid Movement from and Har mony to Discord and Dnxtructlon. 1R BIX PAIiTS. I. THEY COMPROMISED. Bow Two True Lovers Averted an Im pending Qunrrel. "For goodness sake, Mary," asked the young lady's mother at breakfast, "what was the matter with you and Harry in the parlor last night?" "Why, mamma'.' What?" inquired the daughter, demurely. "Why, you jowered and tjuarreled for half an hour, like a pair of pickpockets." "Oh," she replied, remembering the cir cumstances, "llarry wanted me to take the big chair and I wanted him to take it be cause he was company, you know." "Well, what did you quarrel about?" "AVe didn't quarrel, mamma only lie insisted that 1 should take it, and I wouldn't." "How did you settle it finally?" "Well, mamma, we—we—we compro mised, and both o!' us took it" The mother had been a girl once herself. —Mcrclunil Traveler. Well Timed. An editor who does not bear a reputation for bravery, vaote a scathing article in de nunciation oi: a well-known desperado. Shortly after the paper came out, some one, meeting the editor, said: Colonel, you'd better be careful what j'ou say about Urigsby. He has killed eight or ten men.'' "Yes, so I understand." "You'd better look out." "1 am in no (lunger, for my article was well timed." -Jlow so?" "(jrigsby died last night."—Arl:ansaw Traveler. The Vngralofal World. Wnat an ungrateful world is this! There was Fogg, the other night. In going down the stairs leading from the lecture hall, it was all he could do to prevent himself from stepping upon the ladies' dresses, whicli trailed two or three steps behind their wear ers. He kept oil them for a time, but in an unhappy moment he stranded on one of the trains and went sprawling over half a dozen chairs. l)id the lady exclaim: "Poor fel low, I hope he is not injured!" .Not a bit of it. She only gave him "such a look," as the fair creatines are wont to express it, and after remarking: "I reaiiy believe he has pulled out every gather in my dress, the clumsy tiiing." concluded with the pious sentiment: "Pity he hadn'i broken his neck!" Yes, ttiis is indeed an ungrateful world!—Boston Transcript. Avoiding Dmiser. An old lady read a paragraph in one of the papers the other day, describing how a grindstone burst in a saw-inill aud killed four men. She happened to remember that there was a small grindstone down in her cellar, leaning against the wall, so she went out and got an accident insurance policy, and then, summoning er servant, and hold ing a pie-board in front of her face, so that if the thing exploded her face would not be injured, had the stone taken out into the road, where twenty-four pails of water were thrown over it, and.a stick was stuck in tliu whole bearing a placard marked: "Dangerous." She says it is a mercy the whole house was not biown to pieces by th« thing before this.—Wotid arul Iron. Quietiug Bully. The bullying manner of the German students is proverbial, as is also their mania for duelling. It was at Heidelberg that a quiet citizen leaving the cars said to a swag gering student. "Sir, you are crowding me! Keep back a little bit, sir!" The student turned fiercely and said in a loud tone: "Do you not like it? Well, sir, I am at your service whenever you please!" "Oh, thank you!" said the traveler "your otter is very kind, and you may carry my valise to the hotel for me." The student fled amid shouts of laugh ter.—Heidelberg Zeltunu. Aii Arvlideacon'o Story. Archdeacon Watkins told a good story at Exeter Hall when the Bishop of London was presiding at the meeting of the Church of England Temperance Society. The Bishop spoke of the time when tee total ibm was sneered at and even insulted-. Atch* deacon Watkins nald that he wa»otd enough to remember the time to which the Bishop of London referred the days ol scorn for total abstinence. When he was appointed to his first living he was already a teetotaler, and going down with all the diffidence proper to a young incumbent he found that amongst the earliest callers he received was the churchwarden of his parish. The good roan came with all the kindliness proper to the race of churchwardens, and the first piece of news he told him was this: "Mr. Watkins, I am an old man and you are a young one, but as long as I live no one shall never say a word against you, sir, in this parish. Some rascal set a report afloat that you was a teetotaler, and I have just been all round the parish contradicting it" —N. Y. Observer. Wanted to Make Improvement*. Along in 1854 a man who owned some land next to old man Campau's farm didn't have enough, and wanted to buy some of Campau, then ninety years old. The man talked urgently for a long time, and Cam pau listened in silence, finally breaking with: "I vill tell you what 1 vill do. I vill lease you zat land for fifty year but vhen de fifty year am up I mils' have 'im back again, 'cause 1 make some permanent im provement on Mm."—Detroit Free Press. PoriN of the Campaign. Mrs. Fompano Merciful goodness, George, what does this mean? Half-past three, and here you are Mr. Pompar.o—My dear, I've been out with the boys Mrs. P.--From tho appearance of vour clothes 1 should say you had been out with the pigs. Mr. P. (with dignity)—Hear me out! I 1 have been crushing out some campaign slander?.. Mrs. F. (with severity) —Let me advise you, (ieonre, to use your feet the next time you go out crushing. Your hat looks us if you had butted out the slanders.—Phikt adelijhia Call. Took Olf t'tie Nig'hts. A Michigan avenue barber invented a preparation to remove grease and paint, and went to a printer to secure a proper label for his bottles. He had written about what he wanted, and closed with: "And people who wear clothes will lind this an invaluable thins:." "Are there any people who don't wear clothes?'' queried tin- printer. "Oh, I see," replied the barber, after a «vvV! \f--ZZ2 little relleetion: and he changed it to read: "All people who wear clothes in the day tine," etc.—Uelriiit Free Press. A Kncouiitcr. "Good morning, Ciceley, dear: 1 was just going by, and 1 couldn't help dropping in to asic you about the new feather trim ming." "Isn't it lovely?'' "Well, yes, 1 rather like it but I'm afraid it will soon be as common as seal skin saci|Ues." That would be a pity. Only think, I haven't worn my sealskin since you had yours." There were a few dagger-like glances, and that morning call was ended.— Hart ford Post. A I.itil*' IJ03-'- Idea. "Is it right to tell lies?" asked a Sunday school teacher who had a class of small boys. "No, sir," responded every or.e. "Why isn't it right to tell lies?" "Co/, you git licked for a doin' of it," came from a little fellow with a sore back near the foot of the class.—Chictujo Ledger Additional Urutiility. "Yon must change your conduct toward me, Mr. Bromley. This neglect is worse than abuse. It has driven me to distrac tion." —La Caricature. 1 sorry, my dear. There's nothing for you to do but to walk back."-PUilu delpliia Call. Always Conspicuous* So your wife is a conspicuous figure in St Louis society, eh?" "\es, indeed. She weighs thre» hun dred and sixty-nine pounds, wears her hair cut short, and has a voice that is a cross between a bass violiu and a boUe:-shon."— Chicago tier aid. FOR MOTHERS-IN-LAW. A Merlianlcal Bed Which Is In Great m«nd by Tonne Hnsbitndi. Dtiselmeyer was a commercial trav-i eler. He traveled in wine. There was also a good deal of wine in Duselmeyer when he traveled, as he always had his sample cases handy. Duselmeyer was very energetic. He rushed things. Par this reason he always traveled by night in a sleeper. He never slept except' when traveling. This became second nature with him. One day he received a telegram that his aunt had died abruptly. She was rich, and she had left all her property to Duselmeyer. He was a rich man all at once. He ceased to travel for other! people. He established himself in bu$iJ ness. He had every luxury he could! think of. He desired to lead a quiet1 life, but. alas! he could not sleep. He had become accustomed to the noise and! racket of a railroad train. It was impos-: sible for him to .sleep where it was quiet The silence kept him awake. It nearlv drove him distracted. In a short time Duselmeyer, the rubi cund, jolly drummer, began to fade' away, like a flower. He wilted visibly He subscribed to several humorous pal pers and read them, too, but still he did not .sleep. He tried elec—homeo, and all the otherpat hies, and they failed to, make him drowsy. He became thin, and looked like a man on the ed^e of sarcophagus. It occurred to Duselmeyer to visit a neighboring city to consult a celebrated* doctor. As soon as the train was in motion he fell asleep. He slept as sound as an entire board of alderman in session. The shaking, bumping, rat-, fling of the cars, the whistling of the locomotive, the banging of the car door by the conductor made him drowsy. Duselmeyer was in his element. He had discovered the proper l-emedv for his sleeplessness. Whenever ko felt sleepy he got. on the train. After awhile this got monotonous. It was also very ex pensive. A happy thought ocourred to Dusel meyer. He knew a mechanic who was a genkis in his way. Duselmeyer explained tli-.it ho. wanted a railroad bed. He ivanled a bed that would rattle, jump about, like a ear, blow oil' steam, and snort like a locomotive. The mechani cal genius went to work, anil in a short time lie had the bed ready. It was brought into the bed room, and that night he tried it. He touched a button. The bed swaged about, rattled, and jumped. Rvery few minutes there was a sound, as if a door was banged. Every onee in a while it snorted like a locomotive. How happy was Dusel meyer! Ho slept like a top. He dreamt that he was in Heaven, and lie saw the. mechanical genius with a halo around his heat! like a saint's. When he awoke he was being shook up just as if he was traveling on a limited express. It snorted beautifully. "Now," said Duselmeyer, 'Til just' slow up, and get out at the next sta tion." He was not quite sure which was the right button to press in order to stop the bed. He pressed one of the buttons, but the result was that he was nearly shaken iut of the bed. He had pulled opeu the throttle-valve, and the beil was going through all the motions of a lightning express train running at the rate of sev enty miles an hour. Duselmeyer pressed another button. Whew! There was a shriek of danger from the steam whistle. There was a strange a-rindine' sound. The bed began to buck like a Texas cow pony. At iast it hurled Duselmeyer against the wall with frightful violence, and tumbled aver on one side. Duselmeyer was not fatally injured by the bed being ditched. The mechani cal genius was sent for. He explained that he had forgotten totell Duselmeyer about the attachment for jumping the track. However, Duselmeyer had found out all about it without any assistance. Duselmeyer. in the meantime, had got married, and his wife's mother carried out a previous threat of paying the un happy couple a visit. She even went so far as to hint 1 hat she was going to make him two visits a year—each one to last six months. What did the wicked Duselmeyer do? He put the railroad lied —which out wardly looked like any other bed—into tin oltl lady's room, and he sneaked in after she was fast asleep and put the machinery to work. How she bellowed and went 011! In her fren/.y she touched the button that threw the'train into the ditch. Once more, the bed asserted itself. The old lady earomeil 011 the ceiling, and next morning she said she preferred a quiet life at her own home. Duselmeyer honored her whims in tkis respect. Duselmeyer had another happy thought. He went into partnership with the mechanical genius, and started a large factory, which turns out one hundred such beds a day. which arc ad vertised as being exclusively for the com fort and convenience of mothers-in-law. 'Duselmeyer is now immensely wealthy, as there is no limit to the demand for that style of furniture.—Translated from the Germin for Texm Sifiings. Why She Was Grieved. And these belles have their griefs, too. I heard one tell liers to a friend. "You are looking quite sad to-day, I do declare,'' said a sympathizer "What in goodness' name is the matter?" "Oh, I've had to give np my pug, and it almost breaks my heart," was the reply "I kept him beyond tlie fashion, I was so awfully fond of him but one can not quite be left away behind the style, you know, and I h'ad to displace him with a spaniel. I have him tenderly cared for, of course, and he'll be happy enough for life, but that doesn't assuage my own grief. Oh, this frequent changing of one's dog is enough to crush a sensitive nature."—Indianapolis News. —The day is not far distant when we will have to depend 011 the_ Galloway cattle for buil'alo robes. Their robes are equal to the buffalo, but a first-clsiss robe must come off of a full blopd, or very near it, and will be high priced, unless the Galloways becomes very popular and are more extensively used.—Dodge Llty (K'js.) Journal.