HISAM HAYRICK ON MUSIC,
BY JJARJIY J-INN1ST,
Tildy, we're a gottin' stylish, an' 1 swar it soeni9
to mo
TTiet wo ain't a bit move coinfo'table than we
used to l»e.
Yit we ainit at bud as some on 'em -who p'int
thar uoises high.
An' who air so mighty stuck-up thot thoy pass a
neighbor bv.
Thar's the Hulks, fer iii:4mco, Tildy, who Jjov
bought the stuidovs «-»,
Now atollin' all ihe ueighu rs thet they think it
a disgrace
Thet a fniu'lv like tho Hayricks should bo
ei unteil in thar set,
An' thov. Hiram was the seed'ost lookin' granger
thoy hcd mei.
I wa^ jmssin' t'other moniiiT an' 3 overheard
it- said.
Ail' I
hed
a half a mind to turn an* punch olo
Hulks's bond!
Tildy, 'twoiu tJjcti I was skeerod of 'im, but de
cency said no.
So portondin'tliet-1 hadn't heerd. lot the var
mint j.o.
But what I was gain' to tell ve was about his
darter .7
ano,
Who hes got a big liruier an'is jostaraiam
Cain.
Sbe was thumpin' it howlin' jost aB loud as
she knowed howV
Hark. yo.'JMlily, d«»n't ye hear'er? She's a wal
lcpin" it now!
'No, thar ain't a joalis streak a runnin' through
tho Hayrick veins,
But I think thot gal is weavin' out 'er linger
ends an'brains.
Nothin' foolisher I knows ou then this settin
night and day.
Raisin' eech a heavlionish rumpus when they
don't know how to play
An' why folks us poor as they bo—an' in fact
the rich as well--
Want them runs boxes round 'em is a-pnzzlm
me to tell.
Ei old Hulks'd hev his darter 1'aru a beneficial
thing,
Ilod ie6t put *ev at the washtub, whar shed
hev a chance to sing.
Look at Lizy. on a Mond'y, how she sings ail'
washes, too.
Hardly 6toppiu' fer to take a bite fer fear she'd
not git through.
That's the kinder music, Tildy. every gal should
tiy to l'am,
In addiiiou to her needlework an' practicm to
darn.
Thar's Mirandy doesn't do a tap of washin' eny
more
"It'll spile her delicate fingers," said ole Larkins
at the store
She's preparin' to take lessons on a big pinner?
No!
Ye're jest jokin', Tildy Hayrick, or ye wouldn't
Bnicker so!
'Pon yere honor, j*e hev heerdit? Wall, gee
wallopin' thunderbolts!
Lizy'11 hev a big piauer of I've got to sell the
colts!
•Ef I on'yhed a licko' seuse I'd thought on it
afore,
For I heerd ole Larkins tellin' it when I was in
the store.
Tee, 111 pit a high-tuned toachor, an'I'll hire a
woman to wash,
So thet Lizy kin go right ahead as lian'some as—
a squash 1
"We'll beat the LarkinB, Tildy, an' the Hulkses,
an' the gang,
Ef the farm an' stock an' everythin' on a mort
gige string '11 hang!
—Chicago Ledger.
WHAT IS THE MATTER?
Br F. G. WALBKIDGE.
Mies Anders was a saleswoman in one
•of the largest retail houses of a Western
oity. She was very attractive and her ad
mirers were many. In the employ of the
same firm was Mr. Walker, a commercial
traveler representing the wholesale de
partment. Ho had been acquainted with
the young lady for several years, and felt
something more than a stealthy regard for
her welfare. He had noticed on several
occasions that Mr. Bolon, a partner in th'ie
firm, had been unusually attentive to Miss
Anders, and as Mr. Bolen's reputation
was not of a puritanical character he de
termined to be ou guard. Miss Anders,
however, fascinated by his soft, caressing
ways, elegant manners, and deferential
tone on all occasions, was not disposed to
entertain any aspersions on the character
of her admirer, whom she regarded as a
"perfect gentleman." He complaincd of
tue want of congeniality between himself
and his wife, and by soi't insinuations she
was gradually ledto pity him.
God help the woman who shows pity
for any man who is disloyal to his wife,
in thought, word, or deed.
One day the firm requested her to take
a trip to a neighboring town and call on
several of their-lady customers. This she
did. While waiting for the train, Mr.
Bolen turned up with hi,s team and buggy,
and, of course, she accepted the agreeable
ride home. He confessed that he had
planned this expedition lor her, as ho
thought she looked pale, and a trip to
towns in tho vicinity would put more
color into her fair face. After thanking
him, she askeil:
"Why, Mr. Bolen, do you take such an
interest in a poor, humble saleswoman?"
"Because 1 love you. Excuse me for
allowing my feeling's to got tho botter of
my judfjmeut in telling you what I had
not intended to reveal. Are you angry
with me?"
"Mr. Bolen. how can I be angry with
you, when my own foolish question drew
the facts from you. I cannot but have
the deepest gratitude for your continued
and many acts of kindness.
"Excuse me, my dear girl. Don't you
think if I were a single man you could
find some more suitable word than grati
tude? No, that is unfair. I will not exact
an answer, and for your sake will try and
'Change the subject."
On her return she pondered over the
matter and felt more pity for hor aristo
cratic admirer. Mr. Walker called on hor,
bat their relations were constrained, and
the same old cordial feelings did foot exist.
She mentioned that sho was going to
form an excursion party to a grove a short
distance from a verjr' pretty little city
some forty miles from her home. Mr.
Bolen having asked her to go.
She quieted her conscience by promis
ing that this should be the hist time she
would permit his acquaintanceship, and
before they returned she would tell him
•so. Before bidding Mr. Walker good
night she felt that she loved him, and
would show him she had thrown off the
infatuation begotten by Mr. Bolen's wilv
ways.
Mr. Walker went to the place where the
excursion was being held later in the day.
Upon going to the hotel he was told Mr.
Bolen had been there, and had gouo to
the grove after his wife.
Mr. Walker took a position from which
he could 6ee the ladies' entrance without
his being seen by any one coming in.
Mr. Bolen drove up, and helping Miss
Anders out of tho bu^gy, escorted her to
the parlor. Then he (same to the office
and registered remarking he had some
business to attend to that would probably
occupy his time for an hour, possibly he
might be detained longer, he wished lo
haven good room reserved.
Mr. Walker looked over tho register and
read, "A. T. Bolen and wife." Trying to
assume a careless air, he inquired of the
clerk if he was acquainted with Mrs.
Bolen, who replied: "I am not the only
time I ever saw her was in the parlor,
where she now is."
Mr. Walker went directly to the parlor.
Miss Anders, who appeared surprised and
somewhat embarrassed, met him very
cordially, saying: "I was out riding with
Mr. Bolen we were gone so long we have
missed our train, and must remain hero
until morning."
"Annie, my dear girl, will you allow me
to ask you'several rather pointed ques
tions, and answer me without getting an
gry?"
"Why, Mr. Walker, you loo] so serious
and sad! What is tho matter?"
"Will you answer my questions, and
waste no •uno.'"
"Yes, sir."
"Would you preferred to have gone homo
this ovoniu,'.'"
"Most ccrtainly."
"Wore you informed yon could not and
if so, by whom?"
"Mr. Bolen told me we could not get a
train until morning."
"Are you aware of the fact that Mrs.
Bolen is liero. in this houso?"
"I ant quite sure she is not.".
I "Will you stop down to tho fool of the
stairs with me and, if there arc no gen
tlemen in the cilice, go in there with me?
Please don't hesitate, Annie 1 am your
friend."
"Why. what ran this mean! Yes. I kn°w
you are my friend I will do as you wish.'
The office was at the foot
ol
ilie stairs
tho clerk and porter were the only ones in.
Mr. Walker stopped in the drorway. say
ing. "I wish to show the lady the register
ami method of registering.
"Why, eeitainly step in. Mrs. Uolon.
1 have no! assigned you a room, hut will
do so. and have a servant show von to it
whenever you wish." As 3.1 iss Anders
looked at the register, sho realized why
the clerk addressed her he did.
Thoy returned to the parlor, when Mr.
Walker told her a train would leave for
their city ill about tali' au hour, and as
Mrs. Bolen was not there, he would bo
pleased to escort her home, if she ivould
allow him to do so.
Wonl^l it not be tho better way for yon
to leave a note for Mr. Bolen?"
He rang the bell, ordering pen, ink. and
paper, wliou Miss Andors penned the fol
lowing, handing it to him for his perusal:
Mr. A. T. Bolen:
Sin—1 am informed that the regular train
for our oity lias not vet gone (!), so will im
yirove the opportunity ami go home. I trust
that
A. T. 1'olen
and wife, who sco are
registered here, will roach their home
without, any'delay.
Annie Anders.
Oh. how bitterly she realized that sho
had been a foolish, headstrong girl!
What a noble, true, good friend she had
in Mr. Walker! How gentlemanly, con
siderate and kind he had been! Thoy
were both too much occupied with their
thoughts during the ride home to give
much expression to them.
Upon arriving in their own city, Mr.
Walker saw it was too late for him to got
any supper at his honrding-houso and in
sisted upon Annie's going to restauraut
with him. He was very gay and tried to
make her forget tho experience of the day.
After supper they walked slowly toward
her home. Upon his rallying her from
her silence, she said: "Mr. Walker, I
cannot- find words to express my thankful
ness for the many and continued acts of
kindness you have shown to me in the
past year." He interrupted her: "Ex
cuse me, if you really want to please me,
you will lay aside some of your formality
ln»addressi'ng me: call mo Frank and if
you thiuk I have shown you kindness,
please not refer to it again."
They had arrived at hor home and he
thinking she would prefer to be alone,
bad? her good night, when she seized his
hand, saying, "Frank, I thank you," and
ran up the steps and iiko the house.
When Mr. Bolen returned to the hotel,
the clerk handed him a note, and said:
"Your wife has gono out with Mr.
Walker."
Mr. Walker and Annie Anders were
married and moved to a village in Col
orado,' where he engaged in tho mercantile
business, and was very prosperous and
happy. He purchased a great deal of
property, which, in time became very val
uable.
Mrs. Walker had been East on a visit.
While on her return she became ac
quainted with a young lady for whom she
had formed a strong attachment. Upon
learning she was going to Colorado, and
wished "to teach, she urged her to go home
with her, promising to uso hor influence
in assisting her, and had no doubt that
she could get alt the scholars she
wanted. Mrs. Walker was compelled to
remain in Denver one day, at least, and it
would take two days' travel for her to
reach her home aftor leaving there.
If the young lady could, and
would wait for her, then accompany her
home, she would be pleased to have her
do so. They had no family and would
offor her a homo for the present at least.
"1 thank you you are very kind. I will
stop in Denver with you. When you have
time I would like to tell you something
of my history. After hearing that, if you
are willing to have me accompany you, I
will bo delighted to go with yon."
Mrs. Walker's curiosity was very much
.".roused to hear the young lady's history.
"Mrs. Walker, before I tell you anything
in regard to myself, I wish to exact a
promise from yon it is that you will as
sist me in concealing my identity if I can
satisfy you that I have good and sufficient
reason for leaving my home, and traveling
under an assumed name. I will tell you
why I left home, and assure yon there is
no one can truthfully say auglit against
my character."
".My dear girl, I, too, know something
of tho trials that surround a lady away
from homo. I have needed and found a
friend, and will do anything in my power
to assist you, when satisfied your" course
is proper and honorable one." Now I am
all attention."
"My father is a wealthy and well-known
merchant in one of our prominent West
ern cities wo had, as far as money could
make it, a beautiful home, supplied with
all tho convenieu es and luxuries but
there was a skeleton that d: ovo away all
the pleasure from it. That was the knowl
edge that father was a roue and a profli
gate, whose course of life was killing my
mother. 1 had been away from home
most of the time for several" ars, attend
ing school, and visiting with my relatives
iu the Eastern States.
"When I came homo I was shocked and
surprised at my mother's thin, sad, and
care-worn look. I tried to cheer her, but
only partially succeeded 1 insisted upon
her going out more in society. After be
lli1™ home a few mouths I realized that she
was slowly but surely dying of a broken
heart. I determined lo remonstrate with
my father, and did so, when I was told
that my puritanical ideas would probably
do very well for some of the down East
isolated country villages and their older
citizens, who had not yet recovered from
the effects of tho old blue laws! That
this age, day, and section were too ad
vanced and liberal for any such fool
ishness his advice would be, to en
joy the opportunities I had he would bo
pleased to furnish mo with all tho
money I needed I was free to go or do
wherever or whatever I wished that would
add to my pleasure. I certainly forgot my
self, and my place, when I attempted to
dictate or advise him in regard to his
course of life. He did not want a repetition
of it. I told mother that I had decided to
support myself. I would go among
strangers, and under an assumed
name, and lead au honorable (and as
father would probably say a puritanical)
life.
Now, Mrs. Walker, since I have told
you why I am among strangers, do you
wish me to accompany you home? Can
you assist mo, when you knew I am liviug
under an assumed name? I wish to be
known as Carrie Morgan. If it would give
you any more confidence iu regard to the
correctness of itiv story I would giv? yon
my father's name if not, 1 would prefer
not to."
-My dear girl. 1 want you to know that
1 have perfect cotiideuee in everything
you have told me. 1 am more anxious than
ever that von should go home with me I
wish to toll my husband all you have told
mo. lie has always been my true ir.eud,
I and I cannot have any secrets from him.
You must use your own judgment in re
gard to tvlliuu us your ti ne name."
It was veiv lato when the ladies
bade each other gool-nie.ht. In due
time they arrived at Mrs. AValk
cr's home, where tliev were met and wel
comed by her husband, whose curiosity
was niueh aroused when ini io lneed to Miss
Morgan. Ho could not remember the
name among any of his acquaintances,
still her countenance seemed to partially
call up an image ol' some forgotten mem-
oi y.
Upon tho first opportunity Walker
relatod to her husband Carrie story, to
which he replied: "Annio. 1 know why her
face looked so familiar. Sho is a daughter
of A. T. Bolen. When she was a little
miss I frequently saw her at tho store. I
am glad you became acquainted with her,
and prevailed upon her to eomo bore. We
will assist her iu every way possible. How
honorable for her to wish to explain her
situation before accepting your hospital
ity. If you can be pleased with her soci
ety I hope she will make hor homo with
us, as she would bo so much company for
you. Probably you had better let hor
know that 1 ha"ve'recognized her."
Carrie was really glad to know she had
beon recognized by Mr. Walker, as she
now felt she was not concealing anything
from them.
She was very- successful iu getting
scholars, tho only difficulty being that
she had too many. She became a great
favorite. If any were sick or suffering,
she would watch with and care for thom,
losing no opportunity to .impress upon
them the fact that onr loving Savior had of
fered Himself a sacrifice, that we through
Him could have a haven of eternal lost.
Carrie had been two years iu her moun
tain home without hearing from or know
ing anything of her home friends. She
and 5Irs. Walker visitod a celebrated
spring in Colorado. Carrie's health was
not good—sho had been applying herself
too closely.
A gentleman by the name of Mason,
quite extensively engaged in mining, had
been very attentive to her for a year or
more, and proposed marriage. Carrie re
turned his love, but was ashamed to let
him know that she was living under an
assumed name. She had promised to
give him au answer by the next Sabbath,
when he was to come to the springs.
Mrs. Walker advised her, if she really
loved the gentleman, to tell him plainly
all the facts, as ho (like any true gentle
man) would only see the greater cause for
admiration.
On Saturday, as the ladies were coming
from the bath houses, some servants were
pushing an invalid's chair toward them, in
which was seated a helpless man. As
thoy came up to it, a voice said: "My
dear girl, won't you speak to your suffer
ing father?"
Carrie fainted. Upon recovering she was
conducted to her father's room, and there
was a reconciliation.
Her mother was dead! Her father a
helploss invalid!
When he supposed he was alone, Carrie
hoard him repeating:
"Though the mills of God grind slowly,
Yet they H'ind exceeding small,
Though with patienco He stuuds waiting,
With exactness grinds He all."
Her filial love was aroused, and she
determined as long us he was a helpless
invalid she would devote her time to tak
ing care of him.
Mr. Mason came for the answer that he
thought was to make him supremely happy
or very miserable.
Carrie explained hor situation, acknowl
edged ho was very dear to her, but that
duty compelled her to stay with her father.
She would not leave him they have trav
eled ever since.
Carrie has written to Mr. Mason that
they expect to come home uoxt fall that
her father has almost entirely recovered.
Mr. Mason is building a very fine house.
Carrie, in writing to Mrs. Walker, says
she "has lovely di earns—of weddingcbells!
orange blossoms! a happy home! a loving
husband!"
I sincerely hope her brightest dreams
may be realized.
Mr. Bolen cannot bear to have his
daughter out of his sight, and seoms not
to care for or think of anything else,
unless it may be that ho realizes that:
"llegrets are the natural property of
gray hairs, and he enjoys, iu common with
all other men, at least, his share of
such inheritance."—American Commercial
Traveller.
Labrador.
From the map of Labrador, published
in a recent issue of the Proceedings of
the Royal Geographical Society, to
illustrate the»-explorations of Mr. li. ]?.
Holme, it appears that a large portion
of that as yet almost unexplored pen
insula may, from the existence of a
continuous waterway, consisting of
lakes connected by rivers, be in a cer
tain sense considered as an island. This
chain of lakes and lives strotclies from
Ungava Bay to Goose Bay, at the head
of Hamilton Inlet. Five considerable
streams lind their way into Goose Bay,
including the Kenamou, which is used
as one of the routes from the south, the
Nascopee and Grand River, both of
which communicate with Lake Petcli
ikapou. The interior of Labrador, ac
cording to Mr. Holme, who has ascended
all the rivers that enter Goose Bay as
far as tliey could be navigated in a boat,
is not by any means the desert region
whieh the dreary aspect of the coast
would lead us to infer. At a distance in
land of about twelve miles a luxuriant
forest commences, and clothes the entire
country except the barrens or moors,
•\vliieli are the home ol' the caribou. The
interior forms a vast tableland, the
height of which is iven by Prof. Hind
at 2,210 feet abow the sea. The long
and narrow Lake YViminikapou is situ
ated on the line of Grand River, -which
is by far the largest of the rivers of
the district, at a distance ol' about 150
miles Irani its mouth, and below the
elevated tableland. Thirty miles higher
up tho river are the Grand Falls, the
exact height of which is not known,
lit which are probably among the
loftiest and most stupendous water
falls in the world, since over them and
over the rapids of thirty miles of river
course Grand River descends at least
2,000 feet. The Indians of the interior
belong to the Cree nation, and are
probably the most unadulterated Indi
ans to be found at the present date
upon the North American continent.
THE Emperor of Russia exhibits at
Copenhagen an immense dinner service
of Dresden china, which cost him
$50,000.
THE BIGWIG PAPERS.
BY S. F. FIKSTKr:.
I a it
ami the disastrous ('o)ih'c!cinp' Thai At-,
tendt'd Jt—-I Ito'.oitvr Thai Si allied to
Ilea mi,
Buiwui, Dec. 4, 1S88.
Dr.
A IS FIDOI.A: I haven't written to
you before, because I wanted to wait
until we wore settled down, and then I
thought I'd wait till after Thanksgiv
ing, so I could tell you something of
our prospects. As I iold you before I
moved, I determined to have a grand
opening on Thanksgiving: bill, oh,
Fidola, my heart
aches
to have to tell
you how it all turned out.
You know I told you it would be a
splendid chance to show folks what
style we could put on when we had a
mind to, and so three days before
Thanksgiving I sent Sophia Jane out
to invite the bigbugs of ihe town, and
I am sure she must have invited them
right, for she had a slip of paper, on
which I had written the exact words of
the invitation to look at. It read as
follows:
Mus. Your JU'OFPHOOis
I used two big words, you see, which
I found in the back part of the spelling
book, among the long, bard words, be
cause I wanted the invitation to sound
liigh-toned, and as though we were ed
ucated, for I knew they wouldn't know
the meaning of them any better than I
did.
Well. Fidola, Sophia Jane and I
worked like horses to get everything
slicked up and things baked. I bought
the largest rooster I could lind, for
I determined to have enough, if it took
all wc! possessed on this earth.
The guests came stringing along
from ten o'clock till three, although
they might have known I would not
expect them till afternoon and O, Fi
dola, only, only five came, and I had
invited a plump dozen! When they
began coining I was head and ears in
the work of cleaning that hateful old
rooster, which I had nearly finished,
but instead of sending Sophia Jane in
to entertain the company, I went into
the parlor myself and left her to fin
ish the fowl, and I'll regret it to my
dying day but of that hereafter.
Well, Sophia Jane had the rooster on
to roast when I came back, and so at
three o'clock we had supper, for I was
determined to have it early, so that if
any of the neighbors were intending to
slip in just iu time to see what we had
to eat and get asked to supper, they
would miss their calculations. We all
sat down, and after Phyletus had asked
the blessing I told George Washington
to carve the turkey, for it was such a
large rooster that Sophia Jane and I
made up our minds we eould pass it
for a turkey just as well as not and
there is where we sinned like Sophia
in the bible, for I had intended to carve
it before bringing it on the table, but
it looked so nice and was done so brown
that I yielded to Sophia Jane and
brought it on whole.
I forgot to tell you that one of our
guests was a young ludy, and as
George began to carve that hateful
old rooster, I saw her looking at him
with sheepish eyes, and I thanked
the Lord for Thanksgiving, for I knew
she was love struck. I began thinking
of a wedding, and of being a grand
mother, when I looked at George, and
O, horrors! my heart turned sick at
the sight, for that heedless Sophia
Jane had left the craw in that rooster
and George had cut right into the
middle of it! And O! the smell was
such that I began to mortify in my
very victuals. .Well, I didn't look
around, for I hadn't the heart, nor I
didn't want to, but Sophia Jane said
some of the guests went out, doors and
liked to have spewed their insides out:
and poor George (he always was so
bashful, you know) just gave one look
at that black-eyed lady and then upset
the gravy all over 'the table, after
which he stumbled out of the room.
POQI- Phyletus just sat still and said
words which I wouldn't write on paper
for the -rice of "this world of vanity
and vexation of spirits," as the preach
er says. When I finally took courage
to look around I was all alone, for tlie
company had gone, and neither of my
children nor the old man were to be
found.
I finally found Sophia on the back
stoop nearly frozen, and I do believe
Phyletus had been in the saloon, al
though he denied it, for his breath
smelt awfully, and I am certain it
wasn't the turkey that made it smell,
neither.
George didn't come home till ten
o'clock and I don't know yet where he
was. None of us had the brass to eat
that rooster, and so I yanked out the
craw and took the bird over to one of
our poor neighbors and gave it to them
with my compliments. George heard
silica that tliey said they didn't thank
me for sueli compliments, but I can
wait for my reward ill time to come,
for if ever I gave anything without
grudging I did that.
I haven't been out of the house since,
not even to meeting, but I will trv to
go next Sunday if I get my new dress
finished, for if I do the folks will all be
so taken up with looking at it that tliey
will forget the turkey-rooster scrape.
George and Sophia -lane still go in
single harness. I've heard that the
men say Sophia is too 11 shv, and the
,yii'ls say George is too spare, mid sj
I'm in a sp nidarv,
(1
thiuk that's the
right wordi, but I will have them mar
ried by spring, or I'll burst with try
ing.
Georg'e has found a good place to
spend his spare time now, for there is
a Blue Ribbon saloon here. It agrees
with his health to lounge there, and he
is getting, hog fat at it indeed, if it
were not a temperance saloon, I'd be
tempted to believe George was drink
ing something more than water there,
for he is picking up amazinglyfast, in
spite of tie rooster trouble, and I'm in
hopes the girls' objection in his case
will be d!one away with.
Phyl«*,us is out clio, ping wood. I
told him it would look more like style
to keeji a darky uo stirrl: odd obs,
but he couldn't find one inthev lmle
town', and when lie came back lie was
mad. I shall have to feel resigned
uut^l he runs across a nigger, but I did
w&At a darkv bad, not because I
rare how hard Ili.vletus works, bat he
cause it looks like style and don •, cost
much.
Phvletus has called me, and sr^ it
is bedtime, and so I must close. -Now
do write soon to your humble sistei,.
TUVVIIKNA HIGOIXS.
—Don't let homely Kate see my
letter or she will be
gain
BY .7EFFIE
is it
in-
vitort to bo a: tho rari-lonco of Mr. and Mrs.
Trvpheua Higgins 011 Thanksgiving, at such
tiiiiu as you iuuy so.: lit in your
to desire.
canting over
here to catch a mat,, and goodness
knows thov arc scarce enough here
without an old maid of her age coming
ovr to catch one. Yours, etc., I. II.
t'hIrn'jt) Ledger.
imrn:Ni:ss.
vonnrsil
ItAXAKOliD.
seems strange
tome that there
are so few peo
ple in the world
who are, or over
pretend to be,
polite.
have seen so
many impolite
is
v. that .1.
think 1 could
fill a volume if
I attempted to
give a descrip
tion of each.
But I will only mention a few of the
most noticeable.
A lady enters a horse-ear every seat
is taken she glances along the row of
upturned faces with a haughty stare
one gentleman, near the end. can not
withstand the sharp glance she gives
him, and, rising, offers her his seat.
With an audible sigli she sinks grace
fully into it, never deigning to give as
much as a nod of thanks to the mau
who stands up and clings to the little
strap that waves over his head, thereby
making himself extremely uncomfort
able that she may lie seated.
Presently a lady seated next to her
leaves the car. Then what does she
do? Think you she gives the man
standing a chance to sit, down You
would, perhaps, but she does nothing
of the sort. With a little shake of
her dress she settles herself more com
fortably, thus monopolizing both of
the seats, evidently much to her own
satisfaction.
Presently the car stops again, and a
lady enters carrying an infant. Do
you imagine the dress is pulled aside
and the tired young mother is offered
a seat? If so, you are mistaken, for
the woman who is so comfortably
seated does not move. Then some
thing happens tlie door opens and the
conductor enters, and liis voice is
plainly heard all over the ear: "Close
up, here, and give this lady a seat."
Then, and not until then, does she
condescend to move.
I can not understand why it is, but
in nine cases out of ten a man is more
polite than a woman.
My idea is that one never loses any
thing by a little true politeness. It is
a very simple thing to say "Thank
you," when one is offered a seat in a
crowded car. Yet how few take tlie
trouble to say it.
I suppose the lady who neglects to
thank a gentleman for giving up his
seat to her considers it every man's
duty to stand up and let the ladies sit
down.
I, for one, do not think so. In my
estimation a man has as good a right
to retain his seat in the car as any lady
has, and if lie rises and offers it to a
lady, it is simply because the man is a
true gentleman, and his natural manly
politeness will not permit him to be
seated while a lady is obliged to
stand.
Imagine his feelings when she takes
it as a matter of course, without a
word of thanks. One could not
blame him if ho registered a vow to
keep his seat in the future.
If, in going from a large building, a
gentleman politely stops and holds
open the heavy door for a lady, a stran
ger, to pass out, I should think it would
be an impossibility for her to get
through the door without some ac
knowledgment of his kindness.
But twice this week I have witnessed
a like case. Once I was directly
behind the lady who passed out.
without a word of thanks, and as the
gentleman held the door open for me
also I politely said "Thank you." And
I am telling the truth when I say that
he looked so astonished I was positively
afraid lie would lose his equilibrium
and go down the steps too quickly for
comfort.
Evidently he was not accustomed to
receiving thanks for so small an act of
kindness. Perhaps he thought I was
from the "country," for it seems to be
the style of the city people to com
pletely ignore any little act of polite
ness.—Chicago Ledger.
A Turkish Lamp-Lighter.
This functionary is a tall and gaunt
Mussulman, with a fierce mustache, an
embroidered scarlet jacket, and a huge
"fustanelle." He carries a ladder, a
box of lucifer mutches, and a huge
green cotton umbrella. He plants his
ladder against a wooden post, on the
top of which a common tin lamp is in
securely fastened, and taking off the
glass chimney opjns his umbrella to
keep off the wind. The handle of the
umbrella is tucked under his arm, and
then balancing himself on the ricketv
ladder he proceeds to strike a light
with his lucii'ers, carefully protecting
tlie spluttering fiann with both his
hands. Naturally this is a slow pro
cess and by the time the dozen lamps
are lighted everybody is safe at home,
for tlie citizens do not go out at night,
but retire to r, st at a very early hour!
—All i'he Yf'nr Hound.
He Had Tried II.
Mrs. 1' it•/. Noodle lind company to
tea. Little Fit/. Noodle had been told
just how to behave, and a good bio
bribe was promised hint if he acted oat
his part of the programme. He did
very well until he saw the company
beginning to eat some jam that w«s
served in small dishes. Th?n tixiii"
his round eyes on a majestic old lady
opposite to liim, he bawled in the
sweet tones of childhood:
"Did yer laste the pill?"—Detroit
Free Prexs.
Qu iv: Is the wheelwright better
than his felloe
s&ss
Wt«rauh Suffrage.
4
Let no man or woman be mistaken
as to what this movement fo» woihact
suffrage really means. We. none of ui
want to turn the world upside dotnf
or to convert women into men, Wd
want women, on the contrary, abovS
all things to continue womanly—wool-'
anlv in tlie highest and best sense—'
and to bring their true woman's- in
llurnre on behalf of whatsoever things
are true, honest, just, pure, lovely anct
of good report to bear upon the con
duct of public affairs. Some people
attempt to meet the claim of 'women
to representation by the absurdly ir
relevant remark, for I cannot call it Ah.
argument, that women householders
ought not to vote for members of Par
liament because they cannot be police
men and cannot be. soldiers. Who
'wants tlieni lo be either policemen or
soldiers? There must always be a
certain division of labor between the
sexes. The physical constitution of a
.woman tits her to perform certain du
ties on which the welfare of society in
a high degree depends. The physical
constitution of a man fits him for cer
tain other duties, one of which is that
,of external defense. And there are
certain other duties which' men and
women must undertake jointly and in
co-operation with one another, and,
from which the total withdrawal of
one sex or the other is fraught with
danger and mischief. Those who are
in favor of woman's suffrage maintain
that the duty of loving one's country,
of understanding her interests, of en-,
deavoring to influence public affairs
by the choice of men of high character
'and true patriotism to serve in Parlia
ment, is one which is incumbent on
women as well as on men. There is
nothing in the nature of' a woman
which
fits lier to be a policeman or a
soldier and there is nothing in the
nature of a woman wliich unfits her
to love her country and to serve her
by helping to send good men to pro
mote sound legislation in Parliament.
People sometimes talk as if fighting
for one's country were the only way of
serving her. Surely that is taking a
very one-sided view of a nation's in
terests. All work well done, all service
in lifting up the lives of others to a
higher level, "all we have wished or
hoped or dreamed of good," forms the
real treasury of national greatness. I
have no wish to disparage the useful
ness, the necessity, of the army and
the police forcc but civilization owes
quite as much to that great host of
silent, busy workers, of whom at least,
half are omen, through whose labors
alone there is anything worth preserv
ing, as to the army and the police
force for preserving it.—Mrs.Fawcett,
in Woman's World.
Boston's Rich Men Forty Years Ago*
.• No longer ago than the year 1851!
$50,000 made a large estate, and $100,-'
000 made its owner a rich man. Only
ten residents of Boston in that year
were millionaires. The Appleton fam
ily made three of this number—Nathan,
Appleton was worth $1,500,000, Samuelj
Appleton, his brother the same, and
William Appleton, his cousin, $500,000.
more. All three began life poor,
Samuel with six and one-quarter cents.!
The dry-goods business and manufac
tures gave them fortunes, which they
used most generously, William appro*
priating his entire income beyond his
family expenses to benevolent pur
poses. John Bryant made' a million
and a half in the Northwest coast and
China trade. Ebenezer Francis, who
also began life poor, made three mill
ions in the East India trade John h.
Gardner and Thomas Wigglesworth
made half that sum in tlie same way,
and Joshua Sears as much in West
India trade. Abbott Lawrence, then
minister to the Court of St. James, had.
three millions, and his brother Amos
half as much, and their house was the!
heaviest American goods house in thoi
country. Tliomfis H. Perkins, famil
iarly known as "Long Tom" Perkins,
began his mercantile life in St. Do
mingo, and, when driven away by a
revolt of tlie slaves, came back to Bos
ton, began trading with China, and
acquired a large fortune. David Sears
inherited $800,000 from his father, the
largest amount ever inherited in New
England up to that time by a single
individual. Robert G. Sliaw was called
in one of'the leading newspapers of
that day "the oldest active merchant in
his city, as he is the most opulent one."
William Sturgis was another Cape Cod
sailor who commenced life poor he
rose to the command of his ship, finally
monopolized the Northwest coast trade,
and became rich. John E. Thayer is
the only example of a broker who also
was a millionaire, and John Welles of
a land speculator. There are ho law
yers in the above list. Indeed, the
returns in the profession have never
been so large as to make a lawyer a
millionaire, though the Boston bar has
held a most distinguished place not
only in our Commonwealth but in the
country. Several, however, were then
numbered among the rich men of Bos
ton.—Boston Herald.
iiie Lesson Tansrht by a Yiolet.
A little violet grew down in a deep
dell, beautilul lor its fragrance, beau
tiful ior its contentment, beautiful for
its trust. It was shut in by high banks'
so that it saw .naught of what wr.s
passing in the great world around it
it could only l».ok up to the blue sky
so far above its head, which the tall
banks on each side seemed almost to
touch and trust. "I am only a little
thing, it, would say, "but' I do what I'
can.
And it sent its fragrance far
and near, so that passers by easily
found it, though it was small, and they,
oved it for its beauty, and sought the
ciell for its fragrance. Day after day
it sent its one little talent abroad in the
n'l nf?ed multiplied a hundred
iota. All the summer it grew andblos
somed' and when it died people said,
miss the fragrant life of the little
1°,, and the lesson of trust it taught
The encyclopedia published, by the
Academy at Pekin, as far as bulk is
concerned, at least, is the laiKesf in
ToTumeJSbeiDg
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