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FROM I'OKER TO PULPIT.
Re. The Career of Sirve ilolcomb formed ljouisvillc Gambler. Frovi the Louisville Courier-Journal. The frequent passer 011 the south side of Jefferson, between fourth and Fifth streets, lias noticed a man who is usu ally standing in front of the Gospel Mis sion rooms. He is tall, thin, and with a form that is just beginning to stoop under the weight of the years which have thin ned his hair and sprinkled in it a few threads ofsilver. Hiscoinplexion is sa low, his eyes dark blue, and an intellect ual-looking forehead imparts character to the face. That man is Steve Holcomb the some-time noted gambler, and now the zealons city missionary. At one time he was one of the coolest and most daring gamnlers in the south, over which he traveled for nearly a score of years, losing and winning with the vary ing fortunes o( his culling. Ho became perhaps, the most noted and successful poker player in a dozen states, rand scores of anecdotes are retailed of the wonderful luck which attended his play. Ing. No stake was too high, no game too daring to deter him. The "luck" of which men of his calling speak and be lieve in so firmly, always attended his playing, and with anything of economy he might have become a millionaire. A reporter of the Courier-Journal met him the other day and had a long telk with him over his past history. He told bis story with a simplicity which left no doubt ol the genuineness of his feelings. "I was born in this city," he said, "in 1835, and have spent the most of my life here ever since, though I lived in Nashville and other cities in the south I think I was a born gambler. My repu tation got to be pretty bad in this re spe t, and when 1 wanted to marry— which I did in my 21st year—I had to run away with my wife. We went to Nashville, and the war breaking out at this time, I quit work and became a Cefore rofessional gambler. I had done well this, both in playing and at my business, but when I commenced play ing faro bank I was soon dead broke. But loafed around the saloons, and gradually picked up the points of the ga-ne till I was able to start a bank of my own with money 1 borrowed from seme friends. I had a good run of luck in 11 very short time. And made a great deal of money, though never able to accumulate more than a few thousand dollars at a time. The reason for this is because laro had such a fascination for me that I was continually playing against the bank." games made you the most I went to playing. My partnership with Buchanan' came to an end rather sud denly, at Sh re report, when I lost sever al thousand dollars one night at faro. We made up the quarrel next day, but we never traveled together after that. He kept the secret of his "system,' and 1 don't stiopose that any one besides myself knows it to this day. "1 came back to Louisville after that and settled on Fifth street, where I took an interest in two games, one with Henry Johnson, the other with a man named John Morton. We made money fast, and I was well to do when I was converted and quit gambling. It came about in a singular way too," he contin ued musingly. "The l?ey. Bruce Alex ander, now living at Middleton, came to me one day and wanted to rent a house I owned "at Shippingport. Learning that he was a nroacher. I remarked that, there wasn't much difference be tween us, as I was a gambler. He put his hand on my shoulder at that and re marked that he hoped the meeting would be profitable to 11s in more senses than one. His words impressed mo and I went to hear him preach, and from that day I was a changed man. I gavu up my interest in the two games I was running and sent word to my part ners that I intended quitting the bus iness for life. What gambling imple ments I owned 1 would not sell, but gavo away to friend. I had a hard time after that. I went into several diff erent kinds of business, but, though J. had quit all my bad habits, my luck "was changed, and I lost at everything 1 touched, The little money I had was soon exhausted in this way and in charity, for from the time I was con verted I did everything I could to re claim my former companions. 1 got down to my last dollar, and, after fail ing to obtain employment, Brother Alexander, who has always stood by me drew out $31 he had in bank, and with it I went to Silver Creek, Colorado. I got there penniless, end while standing around tho gambling saloon of an eld friend I heard that a waitei was wanted at a hotel. I got the place and washed dishes for a beggarly pit tance, though I could have got an inter estin a.big game that was going on there at the time. Then I was cook 111 a min ing c.imp, and at last saved up enough money to buy an outfit and go prospect ing. I failed at that, too, and after tramping over tho mountains I came back and went to cookimr in a brickyard. As soor. as I could I got back home, but when I reached here I was again with out a cent. Well, sir, try as hard as I could, I couldn't get a thing to do here though I knew so many people and was willing to work at anything. At that time I was living with ir.y family in a room, and they were suffering—but I wont eay anything of that. About that time Major Hughes was elected Chief of the Fire Department, and as he had al ways been a friend of mine, I thought I'd ask him for a job. He never hesita ted, but gave me a place as soon as I asked for it. I staved in the department. Tor two years, reading and studying to make up for my neglected education. At. the end of that time, which was two years ago, I was approached by "rother Morris, who said the church would support me if I would come here and take charge of the mission. It was just what I wanted, and I came, and am now trying my best to do some good. "No, I can't say anything about the tricks of gamblers, for I believe it would do 110 good. I am working hard among the gamblers, who have confidence in me, and it wouldn't do to abuse them. It wouldn't do any good either, for ev ery young man would think himself forewarned as soon as he knew the tricks and would be more anxious to play them over. Gambling can't ho stopped by such ways as that, but if I could I wouldn't hesitate a moment." War Relics. Few veterns, says the Pittsburg Com mercial Gazette, can show a more inter esting collection than can General A. L. Pearson. His opportunities were wid ened by his active career in the war, and his friendship with other officers enabled hiui to add to his store, until it grew to a goodly sire. In the corner of the room a silk guidon was standing, It is tattered and torn, the blue field is al most all gone, and the stripes can scarce ly be distinguished. It was the first Union flag carried into Richmond after the surrender, and was presented to General. Pearson at a reuuion held in Washington after the war. At the same time he was given another guidon, which slands facing the one mentioned. It is a plain bunting flag, on a pole surmount ed by a wooden acorn. Black with dirt and full of holes it looks commonplace enough, but when the remains of X-'reei den Lincoln were borne out ot the White House for the last time, that guidon moved on the right of the line and 011 it the column dressed. Above the id ons are two artillery sabres crossed. One of them Gen. Griffin, as gallant a soldier as ever threw his legs across a saddle, carried at Malvern Hii'l, when, with his artillery, he fought that famous battle. It is a plain eabre ol ,, the regulation United States pattern, stoel tjliul uionev, Mr. Holcomb? asked the re- 1 n_' }J ,, ... porter. "1 made a great deal at banking games, but I suppose more at poker than at anything else. I studied that game for twenty years, and I under stood it pretty thoioughly." "Hid you ever learn a 'system' that would always win the same?'' "Yes: 1 met u'uian onco who had stud ied out a system which beat me, al though I had been playing for twenty years, and thought. I laiew as much about it as any gambler livin.-. It was in Nashville at the time when there used to he the squarest. lot of poker players I ever knew. There was a ring of us there, all good players. But a man named Bncliunnan came up from some place in the south, who beat every one us. He won all the mouey I had. about $4.,000 or $3,000 in two or three nights and did the same with all the others. I watched him closely, for I knew he wasn't as good a player as any of us, but 1 couldn't see his trick with a spyglass, though. 1 knew he had one. At last I went to him and told him that if he would tell me his "system" we would travel together, and, as I had a very large acquaintance all over the south we could make, a fortune easily. Buchan an was rather green, and the idea struck him favorably, so we became partners. We traveled "together, a good deal anu won a pile of money, migtit easily have got lien, but I had such a passion for faro that couldn't help playing, and would lose every dollar that I won when a wril|jped leather halt urn brass handle, with an iron seabber. Gen. Griffin wore it through the battle and af ter it was over presented it to Gen. Pearson. „The other sabre was taken trom oirt:|f Lee's wagons after the sur render. iielow these sabres are two crossed muskets, illustrative of the old and the new. One of them, a flint-lock, was used against the red-coats in the war of 1812, the other is a breecli load er with all the improvements. A car- KJ tl till till VII llll W1 VL Jill- illJ?. ii. tdl* 1 tridge-box aud bayonet picked up at ')et-n very quiet and observant, Gettysburg complete the group. Stand- I stepping forward and speaking ing against the m«ntel-pjce are two earnestly, that is too good a hoi mitifl linen Siiienpi-r purl li r. llirt rillmra be lost for W.IIlt of a little Spirit pfcee are tw guns, one a Spencer carbine, the othera Sharpe's rille. The Spencer was surren dered at Appomattox, the Sharpe Gen eral Pearson captured himself on a skirmish line at Gettysburg. "I got that rifle," the general said, 'while obeying orders to (eel the enemy considerably. The adjutant general told me to throw my men out as skirmishers, giving me certain points as boundaries. I went out and found the ground covered, so fell hack to hold my conmand for an emergency, We laid there all night, and in the morning I was 011 a worm-fence, wish ing that the cold rain that was falling would cease. Just then up rode a group 01 oilicers,and one of them asked me, "Whose men are these?" and I answered' "My men." "What are you doing here?' "Sitting on this fence." l)o you know who I am?" "No, and I don't care." He was pretty mad, and he threw back his coat, and I saw he was a general officer. He told me he was General Sykes, aud I crawled oil'the fence. We bad just been assigned to bis division, and so I did not know him even by sight, and I explained to him why we were there and how I saw 110 use in covering ground other troops were on. He answered sharply: "I'll do the thinking take your men and feel the enemy considerably, and keep on feeling until I tell you to stop." I was as mail as he was, anil I started. TI10 enetny was retreating, and we kept "obbling up men and Rending them back until 1 hadn't a handful of men left. I rode up to a house, and three rebels sprang to the door. One of thoin had that gun and pulled it at me. He had it cocked and up, but I allied out if he fired he was a dead man, reaching for my revolver, and 0110 of the men with him knocked the rille down, saying they surrendered. ,Iut ihen an aide rode up on a gallop and asked what I was doing. 1 told him Svkes had told me to feel the enemy considerably, and I was doing it. 'Where's your regiment?' he demanded. 'Most of it's gone back with prisoners.' 'How many have you with you?''Half a dozen' 'Well quit, for you're too far ahead.' That did me, ml 1 went back. The rifle should have turned in, but it had been pulled on me, and I gobbled it." As he finished this story of the Sliarpe's rifle. General Pear son produced a sand-box. It was a little tin box, showing traces of the green paint that it once bore, when sand-boxes wero used instead of blotting paper. "That box," said the general, "was used at the surrender of Lee at Appomattox. General Griffin, who was one of the three officers appointed by Grant to arrange the terms of capitulation, gave it to me." With the sand-box was a pair of si.ver epaulets found in his headquarters' wau on. They arc very handsome, and probably tho ouly tiling of the kind in America. Tragedy of a Wronged Father. On nil island to the north, in a little Indian village that showed 110 sign of tho presence of whites, I found an old gray-haired man who in all respects, save that his skin was not so dark as wero tho faces around him, seftmed in Indian. The old man told me that he was the eon of a white man who lived on the island and became very rich by cheating the Indians out of their furs. "Ho traded in skill"," said the old man with a savage twinkle in his eyes, "but he skinned the Iujins!" His father's narno was John Easter and liis mother VOL I-ME II. KIMBALL, BHULE COUNTY, DAKOTA, FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 14, 1883. iras the young daughter oranOjibway shief. Iler father knew nothing of his daughter's shame until her child was born, when he dragged her into the presence of her betray er, stabbed tier, and as she lay dying, throttled the father of her child and •ast him, as he supposed dead, into the pool of blood at her side. Then ho took the child and with his family left tho island forever. "My blood relations live in riches in a city far away, but the dy ing curse of the heartbroken ch ef will yet overt ike them and they shall sutler for the sins of their fatherl"—Mackinac Correspondence Chicago Inter-Ocean. Alexander autl iiuceiilutliis. BY FEHI) MYKON COI.11Y. One day when Alexander was about twelve years old, his father, King Phil ip, of Macedon, took him with the rest of the court to see a display of cavalry in a large field adjacent to the palace. The handsome young prince with his golden hair falling upon his shoulders and his fine eyes all aglow, was no dis interested spectator, you may be sure. At the close of tho review aThessalian approached the king who was standing among his officers, and said that he had a horse for sale which he wished him to buy. 'What is your price, Sir Philonicus?" asked Philip, who, it seems, knew the man quite well. "Sixteen talents (about $15,000), your majesty, but 'tis a royal steed, and only kings sliould mount him." "And your price is royal," laughed the king. "However, let me see your beast. If he suits us, we shall not quarrel about the price." The horse was brought, a huge black charger of a Thessalian breed, that champed its bit and paved the turf, like a Pegasus. "He has never been mounted, my lord," observed Philonious, "doubtless he will bo shy at first." A dozen gaily dressed young officers stepped boldly forward in order to mount the new horse and test hisspeed. But the black steed appeared so fierce and unmanageable that the gay fellows were glad to step back in their places. One of the officers persisting in his at tempt, was thrown violently upon the ground, from which he arose crest-fallen enough, his helmet begrimined with dust, and a brand-new cloak nearly spoiled. The Tessalian courser seemed in a bad humor that morning. He reared and plunged and kicked,and so far from al lowing any ono to mount him, he would not even bear to be spoken to, hut would turn fiercely upon bis grooms. "Take away your steed, Sir Thessa li.in," said Philip angrily. "He is savage as Cer erus, I marvel that he has not slain thee ere now. Only a Centaur could ride the beast." "Truiy he is possessed," answered Philonicus, very much disappointed. '•What aileth thee, Bucephalus? Thou hast never acted so until now." 'Father," said Alexander, who had now very horse to be lost for want of a little spirit and skill to manage him." "Aud do you think, forward boy, that you can manage the brute better than your elders?" asked the kin "That I could," replied the prince, "or 1 will forfeit the price asked for the horse." At this the courtiers laughed, and Philip shook his head, but the boy did not smile, He only said, "Have I your .permission, father?" "Ho there! Sir Thessalian, lead back your steed," cried Philip. "Here is a headstrong youth who wishes to break his neck." Then the young prince throwing off his golden embroidered mantle, ran up to Bucephalus, and laying hold of tho bridle turned iiim to the sun. For he had quietly been making up his mind that the horse had been frightened by its own shadow, which had constantly moved as he had moved. His assumption was ver ified at once, for no sooner (vss Buce phalus turned about than he immedi ately became more quiet. Alexander continued to speak to him gently pat- tiiia him on the neck, until he had him under control. Then springing suddenly upon his back,, the prince, without us liig either whip or spur, galloped the liery s'.eed acrxss the field to his heart's content. After a hard half-hour's hard racing, he approached the royal circle again, and delivered Bucephalus as tame as an old chariot liorso to tha grooms. "Pay the Thesalian his gold, Perdic cas," said Philip to one of the young of ficers, and then, turning to tlie prince, •ie said, "Maceedon is too small a king dom for thee, my son, and one day, nrophesy, thou wilt rule over a greater." And the. handsome prince, his face all flushed with his exercise, and his gold en locks blown hither and thither, went home leading Bucephalus proudly by the bridle, and Bucephalus was proud to be led too. But the Thcssaiian steed would per. mil 110 one else to mount him, and Al exander was the only person who ever rode him. Ho bore "his master through all his war-like campaigns, and when at I.ist he died, Alexander gave the black steed a funeral like that of a king. His name was long preserved by a city which the conqueror built, and named after his favorite horse. Bucephalia. Easily Sw^illoweil. "That was a sad case that, that of the lit tle boy out at Germantown, who died lrom swallowing an iron jackstone," said an old physician of Camden, as he folded his copy of last night's News and walked up to tha bar. "But he didn't receive proper treat ment. bedidu'l. 1 could have saved the child's life. Do children often swallow sucn articles? I should say t'ley did. Any average boy, healthy or sickly, from t'vo to five years old, can awal'ow anything from a red ceut up to a trade dollar, have relievsd as nit.ny babies from the ef fects of swallowing nickles as I have finger." and toes. The cents are easily sot rid of, but trade dollars won't pass—not even for caster-oil—but, I believe our friends here take them ior drinks. You haven't got one? Well, I guc:s we won't drink. But to resume. Talk about an ostrich's stomach. I don't believe the digestive capacity ot 2-year-old child is or ever will be under stood by the profession of which I am proud to be a member. Why, bad under my care once a little creepar and crawler— he hadn't begun to toddle—whose regular diet was ashes aad cinders washed down with soap suds and bluing water. His mother waa a washerwoman. The stran gest part of it was that he grew fat on this food and seemed to prefer It to his mother's Jmilk. People will swallow al most anything. Why, there's a case in the books of an old maid seamstress who swal lowed a paper of pins and a dozen or so of needles a day for 30 years, and got to be a regular blood and flesh pincushion without suttering any ill effects. You have seen the fellow that swallows swords at the circus sideshows, and in India the fakirs swallow big snakes which have previously swal lowed young live pigs. In this country some fellowsswallow 40 or 50 big slugs of whisky every day without hurting anybody bnt the confiding saloon keepers and the people who lend them a quarter. Why, you have been swallowing all I gave you, bnt it is more than I believe your readers will do. There's a limit to human endur ance."—Philadelphia News. Anecdotes of Skobeleff. His skill, daring, and the care which he took of his soldiers hava been dwelt upon by several historians of the war and special correspondents. We can only find space here for a few anecdotes of a personal character given by Russi aus. His soldiers worshipped him, look ing on him aa a demigod: ,'One of his soldiers coming unexpect edly on the crowd which blocked the street opposite the Chapelle Arnente, where Skobeleff lay dead, on asking, "Why this crowd?" received answer, "Skobeleff is dead!" Nonsense," replied the simple veteran, "Skobeloff is not dead. He would not consent to die. It is impossible," And so he unconcern edly went his way, confident that his beloved general was still alive." He was in the habit, without ever compromising his dignity, of mixing familiarly with his men: "He used to eat with them with the common spoon out of the camp kettles, and no one was ever more careful to see that the camp kettle was in its place. It was not only the superb military genius which they admired, but his sympathy, his homely brotherhness. There was no pride in him—with the poorest he was as friendly as with the most powerful." With his money he was moBt lavish, giving away the whole of his pay to the soldiers and those of his officers who, were in need. The following tale will serve as a proof of the devotion of his men: "Skobeleff went to visit a transport ol soldiery badly wounded. One of the moribunds recognized him. "Oh,' said he, "there isjour own one, our Skobeleff' The others heard the name. "Hurrah, hurrah!" they tried to cry out so weak anfl wavering were their voices, it re minded one of death more than life. One of the wounded soldiers who had to be operated on had both legs and an arm to be amputated. Chloroform was offered. "Why do you object?" ex claimed the doctors. 'I cannot,' replied the man 'rather let me smoke a pipe diirimr the operation. I cannot take any chloroform. I tell you I am a Sko belevets'—belonging to SkobelefPs divis ion." Kind aa he was to his soldiers, he could be stern enough when necessary. Once a.working party in the trenches, assailed by a murderous fire from the Turks, fell back and sought shelter in the trenches Skobeleff exclaimed: "You. are frightened. Your com rades are working, and you are fright ened. Form in rank." They obeyed. "March back to your work and that at once. If not, God be my witness if I do not make you go through your drill be fore the Turkish trenches. You know me. It is enough." They resumed their work without|hesitatio"n. His daving exposure was one not to recklessness or vanity, but to a desire to set an example and inspire confidence. Though, however, he exposed bimsslf, ho sought to spnre the lives of others: "Once he went to the front, and turn ing round, perceived a group of liis of (iceis. "Why are you lierei" he cried. "Yov are not necessary." \Ve will not let you die alone," they said. He un derstood their stratagem, smi'ed and re turned to another spot," Tne most ably conducted and auda cious of Sko jeleflPs campaigns was that in which lie captured Geok Tepe and conquered the Akhal Tekkes. To de scribe it would be to write a military es says, which would be out of olace here. The following extracts, however, from Skoboleff's instructions to his officers when drawing near Geok Tepe will be read with interest and profit: "The main principle of Asiatic tactics ie to preserve Icloso formations. Long thin lines, in which troops easily get out of hand and separated into small groups which cannot obey the will of their common leader, prevent the latter from opposing strong formations, in which the superior discipline and mobil ity of our troous tell most, to sudden or unexpected hostile attacks. The attack of the enemy's cavalry is to bo met by corresponding changes of front, il necessary, and by volleys at short ranges. 1 recommend even squares (battalion or other],when circumstances permit. Mitrailleuses are to be used exclusively in connection with in fantry or dismounted cavalry, like the former regimental guns all other guns are at first to be kept in reserve, so that they iimv be used in masses when re quired -aid so good results will be ob tained by a few do/en gnus working un der one man's will."—London At-heiuc um. Jonah's Voyage. St. James'* Budget. Several Continental scientific publica tions are at present engaged in criticis ing—not always from a friendly point of view—the history of "Jonah. One jour nal points out that if, as the account may be taken to pimply, the fish swallowed the prophet in the Mediterranean and threw him out again near Nineveh, he must have been carried 'hrough the Straits of Gibraltar, round the Cape of Good Hope, up the Persian Gulf aud into the Tigris. The Acerra iPhilologiea suggests, however as imewhat. less un reasonable theory It considers that there is no ground for believing that Jo nah landed near Nineveh, especially as the voyage thither by way of the Cape would have occupied at least three weeks or a month anil it thinks that he was probably cast ashore on the sooth em shores "of the Euxine "at a point from which, in about a week, he might have travelled overland to his destina tion. A fish starting from the neighbor hood of Toppa, could no doubt, reach a point in three days and three nights if it swam no faster that a first-rate ocean steamer ordinarily steams now-a-dayB and it is well known that many fish can easily uiovo at a very much groatet rate of speed. THE HOTEL MOTHER. With Some Notes 011 her Cllllard room Son and Piazza Daughter. "I am sure that she ie well connected," remarked Mrs. Haphazard "she wears the most beautiful diamonds every morning." Mrs Fungus was the lhost gorgeous figure in the hotel. She breakfasted in a black velvet gown, with train and short sleeves, and she com monly dined in blue Batin. She would have been called very pretty, but for a somewhat aggressive stare in her round light eyes, and a fixity in the lines of her graceful mouth and chin which sug gested not composure BO much as de fiance. You could not look-at her fair skin and banged hair, and her super fluity of gems and gold chains, or listen to her laugh and her grammar, without thinking of a translated barmaid. But she was perfectly good-natured and unaffected. If her manners were not fine, they were at least easy being those which had came to her in the course of nature. She was fond of talking to any body who would accept her company, and was an especial favorite with transient young men, who found her a pleasant relief from the monotony of the smok ing-room, and spoke of her as "gay." Most of the boarders felt in looking at her as Carlyle'a raw Scotch maid felt when, being shown a Virgin and Child in the National Gallery, she could ouly exclaim: "O my! how expensive!" Mrs. Fungus did not like a saint but there waa no real harm in her. She never walked abroad sho never drove she never read she never was seen with a needle. She passed the morning on the piaiza the afternoon and evening in the public parlor, talking loud, if she had anyone to talk to, and otherwise con tentedly taking exercise in a rocking chair. The last thing she thought of was the children. The late Mr. Fungus had left her several pledges of affection,and she left them entirely to Sarah, who in turn generally left them alone, though sometimes—upon what occult principle the boarders never could discover—Bhe shook them. Thus it happened that the children of Airs. Fungus bee ime the ty rants of the establishment. They played horse in the corridors. Thsy jumped in the parlor. They put the piano out of tune, and Idislocated the sofa springs, and broke the croquet mallets. They stripped |the flower-borders, and were a terror to all domestic animals They rushed to the dining-room as soon as the doors were open, gave extensive orders, scrambled for the dessert, filled the neighboring guests with disgust, and drove the waiters to desperation. The complaints of their noise and their tres passes were the chief worry of the clerk but there was no remedy'short of ex peiling the family. It never entered the head of Mrs. Fungus that for their own sake the children otiaht to be taught a respect for the rights of others, or that thoy had anything to gain by acquiring self-control. Mis. Fungus will be recognized by every visitor at Saratoga, at Long Branch, at the White Mountains, at the Virginia Springs, at all the fashionable resorts of the United States for sho pervades all sections, and she flourishes in (he de velopmeut of a series of types evolved from a rude social origin, and tending toward a complex product not yet clear ly discerned. She is only a little re moved from the primitive and labori ous ignoramus changed conditions of existence have affected her imperfectly she has dropped old habits, and has not yet learned the new ones appropriate to her new environment. In the next generation we shall observe a marked ad vance. The children who are now the niu sance of hotel corridors will be the swells of the billiard.room and the belles of the piazza, Young Fungus will never be a gentleman, but he will early assume to he a connoisseur in coats, cigars, saddle horses, and lawn-tennis. He will haunt hotels as closely as his mother, for what other home than a hotel has he ever known?—and there he will breakfast late, and call the barkeeper by his first name, and take a leading and dogmatic part in the extraordinary vapid, copious, and unlettered conversation which is to be heard only in the office of hotels and livery stables. He will be only a fop and a fool, with no thought but his own amusement whether he will be any thing else will depend upon the freaks of fortune—especially his luck in bus iness and his luck in'marriage. He will never be an interesting fellow. His sis ter will at '.east be an object of attraction. From a troublesome and over-dressed child, she will grow into a pert miss, with a profound disrespect for her mother, and a saucy answer for strange gentlemen who try to amuse themselves with her. She will quickly catch the accent and manner of a class much better educated than her own, she will learn, before she has put on long dressus, that diamonds at break fast are in bad style at fourteen sho will be remarked for the elegance of her costumes at fifteen she will have ried self-culture to the point- of reading novels in "TX\e Seaside Library," and, under favoring circumstances, she may even go so far as the lighter publications of the "Franklin Square Series." After a brief transition period of giggling flir tations with boys, she will suddenly ap pear at the summerhotel as an experi enced young lady, and will take her place naturally in the category of piazza girls. Like the rest of those companion able virgins, her object in life will be to have a good time. A good time implies a young man, with whom she will always be ready for a promenade outside the parlor windows, a whispered tete-a-tete in a dark corner, a moonlight, ride, an unseasonable row on the lake, or a pound of French candy in the recesses of a thicket. As for Mrs. Fungus, she, poor woman, wilL have gone off s» lly when these nights of lieartlessness and futile dalliance arrive stray bachelors and commercial travelers will no longer find her "gay" her voice will be harsher, but her laugh will be rare, and there will be marks of trouble on her face. Her children will despise her acquaintances, and be careful not to pre sent to her their.own. She will kaow little or nothing of 'her son's pursuits. She will wait alone 011 the piazaa till midnight,while her daughter is out with a gentleman whose name she has never hoard and when the truant pair appear, the cavalier will not notice tho old lady, and the girl will offer no remark. What will the girl be liie in mature lifof she bring up children after the pattern of herself, and teach them as she was aught, that they are no domestic duties for either old young? The civilization which has evolved in order the hotel mother and the piazza girl is too new to ahow in the next stage of development but it ought to be something remarkable. -N. Y. IMtbune. Tlie Seventeenth Not a Humane Century. Mr. Edward Eggleston's "Indian Wars in the Colonies" is continued in a late magazine and the following striking ex tract is taken from it: "It is to be remembered that the sev enteenth was not a humane century in Europe or America nor was the first half of the eighteenth much better. And even in our own time, sudden massacres and scenes of savage cruelty have a ten dency to extinguish pity in the bosoms of people on an exposed frontier. The slaughter at the Pequot fort had some extenuation in the .dangerous situation of the feeble settlements aud the horri ble outrages of the Pequot tribe. It is more difficult to excuse the destruc tion by fire of the innocent and helpless in the Narragansett stronghold. Policy as well as humanity should nave suggested a more lenient course in this casa. The apologetical tone of the narratives of the Pequot affair shows that there was an ad verse public opinion which even the ci tation of Joshua's destruction of the Ca naanites could not allay and some of the soldiers of the Narragansett fight, 'were in much doubt then, and afterward se riously inquired whether burning their enemies alive could be consistent with humanity and the benevolent principles of the Gospel.' But the'Elders,' whose voice had so much weight, spoke no word against these cruelties and for the most part, the old New-England histories of the affair, though written by clergymen, are perfectly ruthless. We learn that, aft or the Narragansett breast-work was car ried, the Indians, 'in most abject terms, begged for quarter,' which the English refused. Tho troops had nothing to do but to load and lire upon a despairing mass of human beings of all ages, the enemy being penned up and huddled together in Buch a manner that scarcely a shotQwas lost, says Dr. Trumbull. Hubbard tellB the story of the burning women and children without, qualm. 'We have heard of two and seventy In dian captives slain and brought down to hall, all of them, in ono day,Texulta Dr. Increase Mather in a sermon on thepre valency of prayer. The horrors of con tinued war had infuriated New England against the whole red race. The Chris tian Indians were in imminent danger, and Gookins and Danford, their friends, were threatened by placards in tmblic places. Those in authority wore borne upon the same current of angry pas sion. The serious formality of Massa chusetts laws was broken by the hot lava of wrath against the 'barbarous crow,' and week after week captivts In ins were executed, the hanging taking tee at the time of the weekly lecture, in order to augment the solemnity of the occasion, perhaps. The historian, Hubbard, calls Canonchet 'a damned wretch 'hut as the young sachem was already dead, this is to bo taken in a pulpit rather than in a profane, sense. Because Henchman, did not favor a massacre of friendly Indians tho Boston soldiers refused to march under him, aud demanded tho bloody-asindad Thomas Oliver for their leader. The suspected Christian Indian was rather sacrificed to the fury of a Boston mob than executed and the circumstances of his execution wero most revolting, but they were surpassed in a similar cruel execution that occurred in New-Ainster dam at an earlier period. In the rough, seafaring town of Marblehead tbe peo- Ie were yet more uncontrollable than in toston. The women coming out of meeting os Sunday, seeing two Indian prisoners led through the streets, fell upon them and beat them to death.'Wr Chuff" of the Exchanges. A certain little Pharisee who was praying for his big brother, had a good deal of human nature in him, even if he was only six years old. He prayed, "O Lord, bloss brother Bill, anil make him as good a boy as I am!" It was a Detroit girl who married at 15 so as to have her golden wedding when it would do her some good. Old Mrs. Darnley is a pattern of household economy. She says she has made a pair of socks to last fifteen years by only knitting new feet to them every winter, and new legs every other win ter. An original poem was recently sent to a Boston paper, "There are no Tears in Heaven." By a very natural mistake the printer made it."There are no Beans in Heaven." The following Sunday ail the Boston preachers alluded to it and declared soothingly that there was no authority in the Bible for the statement. Speak gSntly—especially to the big man with the round head, and a square neck, and two big fists like ancient stone hammers. Speak gently to him. Yon may touch some long hidden shord of sympathy in his hardened breast that may cause him to pass you by uncrushed. Butthe.iittle white-faced man on crutch es—oh, you may sass him all the tray round the block.—Burlington Hawkeye. Why Hobson objected—"Hobson," 6aid Muggins, "they tell me you've tak en your boy away from the graded school. What's that for?" "Cause," said Hobson, "tho master ain?t fit to teach 'im." "Oh," said Muggins, "I've heard he's a very good master." ."Well," replied Hobson, apologetically, "all I know is he wanted to teach, my poy to spel taters with a "p." Two Men of Unbounded Egotism. We were talking of the egotism of great men, and an ex-senator said: "A. lady of my acquaintance once wrote Rosaoe Conkling a note when he was in the senate with me, asking permission to bring her little girl to see him. Bo re plied in a courteous note, naming the hour at which I10 would receive her. At the hour named the lady and the child stood before him. "Mary," said the mother to her child, "this ia the great Senator Conkling,." "'Yes, little Ma»y." said Lord Eoscue, with (L Jovian smile meant to be encouraging, 11 NUMBER 23. Will her that on the morning-of tha darkest •torn ,]ayS of the war I met Charles Sumner on the avenue, and stopping him, said: "Senator, is there any nqw3 this morn ing?" "None, I|believe," he gravely re* sponded, "except that ram a little befr ter this morning." I had forgflun thai he was unwell.—Correspondence Phll« adelphia Record, IN LIBBY PIU SOJf. .- How a Traitor Was Court SC&rtitefltttl by His Fellow-Prisoners. A, Washington letter to the Philftdfe phia Record says: Of the six officers-a the regular army who found themselves in Libby prison in 1863-4 one wa»» fine*' looking colonel from Indiana-** bigo bodied, big-brained, big-hearted follow chockfull of energy. He worked''like steam-engine until he got ont of Libby»i Once he found his tunnel too Small1 for* his burly form, once he was chewed atr the other end of it by two or three) armed confederate soldiers, who 'hadH been quietly waiting for him again, ft-, clever ruse was detected just as he to the middle of the gate, and so it wonlr'i" until he had made halfa dozen attempts^ But he never gave ap,and4n*Hygotoat^'. and is now a prospering citizen of IndK anapolis, a triflo stouter than when htt^ was in Libby and a good deal richer bnt%. otherwise unchanged. As Uncle Remtul''"* says, the colonel's 'min was alius king." After two or three of his at*"* tempts to get oat of Libby had failed he"'1' began to suspect that his Ml**2"' ures were caused by treachery in the prisoner's camp. Exchange iike kissing went by favor. The colonel after thinking each failure over, came-" to the conclusion that some poor devU was selling his manhood for amen of pottage—currying favor which would "exchange" him to his home by betray ing the plans of his companions-in-armt to the enemy. He looked about him for the man. Cautions inquiries at length gave him such information aa prompted him to say to each of the other five regular army officers: "Meet me at such a spot at midnight. I have found a traitor. We will court-martial: him to-night." At midnight tbe sis men,met in a dark corner and in whis pering voices organized a drum-head court-martial. The colonel presented tho name of the suspect and then his proofs. In the ballot that followed each of the six voted "guilty." "Now,",said the colonel, "this not a farce. We most vote a sentence, and then we must ex ecute it." "Very well," said the-next man. "Well"' said the colored colonel* "I vote for death. The wretch deserves it." "So do I," said the next, and so on down to the sixth—a Pennsylvania ma jor. He knew the culprit, a Pennsyl vanian like himself, better than, the rest. He knew that he was quite ca pable of the crime charged against him. He had no doubt of his guilt. He want ed to sea him punished. He said all this to the other members of the court, and then he added "But yon know we are not logal court-martial. We ha7e no authority to act—certainly noanthor ity to kill. We may sift the evidence presented against a man for our own satisfaction, but we cannot sentence, much less kill him. .The most we can: do is to urefer charges against him in the war department. ^'We can't kill him. Suddenly interrupting himself, he said "Colonel, what's that in, vonr ilonel as we He had taken an old shirt, torn into nar row that be said. him, "What you have said is all.veiy well. It does credit to your hearts weir as to your head, but you're out-voted the majority is against you. The sen tence of the court is that the scoundrel shall die, and die he will this minnta foi' I'll kill him myself. "Come, cap tain," he said to the brawn: Irishman next him." you and I wUl set-'H' tie the rascal." Why, you wouldn't^ S5 strangle him in his sleep, would you?"" afsked the major, also on his feet, as the othera moved toward the sleeping form of the traitor. "Certainly,", whispered the colonel, "why not? He can'tpray, and we can't have any noise." "You never will," said the,major, firmly, get* .i ting in front of the colonel "I won't lefeft, you—you'll have to kill me first—I won't stand by and see you stain your honest'."' hands with his dishonest blood in such a -Y way as that Why, man it would bi murder. You would be a murderStv won't permit it." Gliding softly before the rest, he reached the sleeping man^., and sat down beside his head. There he... sat till the gray morning came stealing in.,*" through the chilly atmosphere. Long*, before that time thecolone. and his com panions, baffled and disgusted, had stolf en away to their sleeping-places, carry*, V1' inc the plaited rope with them. As soon as the major could See the traitor's face in the dim light of the dawn, he waked him and told him all that had occurred. "Now. sir."' he siid sternly, "I saved your life last night, aU--*', though I believed you worthy ot deaths, •. I won't do it again.. I saved your life./ for my sake, not for yours. My advice*-^ to you is that as soon as the guard Co me%=C,7 in for roll-call you get out of Libby, andf as soon as you get to Washington get out of the army. If you're in the Army when I get out. I'll prefer charges-. against you, and if I meet yon I'll kill you." Trembling with excitement, the. wretch, without a word of denial ot pal-s. liation, got up, and as soon as.the guard came in got out. The stalwart six tor*, warded charges against him from libby,. When they got out of prison they fbnnd. him out of the army, so they dropped^ the matter. The traitor is in the atmy now, reinstated by act of congress,.Lbe« lieve bnt the major who promised, to kill hint on sight is unde* the green sod .of the prairie. Still, th& colonel would make things lively for tbe traitor if, thAJft met faie to face. ftvi After some delay cassed by Uia col ting ttf'' '•elcgraph wires since- the road, waa oomv pleted the first car has been run ow.'tht' Brooklyn bridge. The trip was successful, ant some time wlU elapse hftfore Um jmblu) will be aocommodatea.. but remem ber," solemnly lifting ius forefinger, "that there is a greater than Senator Conkling." We laughed, and then a regular army colonui said "I roraam- »"*r, 1 A»i 7 Queen Victoria's recovery Cna the fects of her&U on the stairs of Windqpay castle, nearly five months afia now at*' most complete.- Her general health1 hti$ greatly improved fend she ia ing^od spirit again. Some Ciuolanaki Hebrews have bent.«a£' $ ing elams, crahs, bog's legs and otfeer fins bidden fruit, ana are getting criticisms fry Teirfjh papers.