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"#.^Sjft -5* ^LU£ W I Vf-'* *3 1 im 1 *&*•% ,$r iA f^s A* Ti h-*f ""r #**,/•' 5:*" &s« fr VOLUME II. One hundred years ago this month a sumptuous drawing room entertainment was given by Mr. and Mrs. John Jay of New York, the occasion being the bloom ing of a century plant, belonging to the diStiflgoished entertainers. The list of guests present was preserved and tba other day was printed in the New York papers. It is composed principally of brilliant and re&arkable people whose names are familiar to readers of revolu tionary history and it is something re markable that these names are now borne by the most brilliant people in the fashionable and aristocratic circles of New York, with but very few excep tions. A century is not many genera tions,.but itis rare that so many notable names, fortunes and positions have V^'be'en .transmitted' with $6 few interrup tions, especially in this country. It is said that "blood will toll"—we know that money will. The Supreme Court of the United States hag again decided the legal ten der question,and this time almost unan imously the only dissentient being Mr. Justice Field. The court holds that congress,• as the legislature of the sov ereign nations, being expressly empow ered by the constitution to levy and col lect taxes to pay debts and provide for the common defense'and general welfare of tl^o "United States, and to oo,in money and reguiate the value thereof and of foreign coin, and being clearly author ized as incidental to the exercise of those great powers to emit bills of cred it, charter national banks and provide a national currency for the whole peo ple in the form of coin, treasury notes and national bank bills, and power to make notes of the government a legal tender in the payment of private debts beilig one of tlie powers belonging to sovereignty in other civilized nations, arid not expressly Withheld from con gress by the constitution, impressing Ujion'treasury notes of the United States the validity of being legal tender in pay ment of private debts is appropriate means, conducive and plainly adapted to the execution of the undoubted powers .. of'congress consistent with the letter and spirit'of the constitution. Gol. P. Donan, a somewhat distin 'gudslied editor and.orator nndnow a resident bfTTargo, Dakota, but evident ly the Courier-Journal of Louisville is misinformed in reporting that he is un der contract to write up a series of pen portraits of the leading types of Amer ican: lioauty fJr a St. touii^mblication, and certainly is when it states that he took a vigorous pull' at tho saturine bot tle, spat upon liis hands, and started outSri tSiiii stj'le: "Britian, whose morn ing drum-beat sounds around tho globe, has but one queen, while we are blest with one or more in every home from oeeaii to ocean, and from where aurora borfealis. fingers paint with weird, mys terious splendors the Dakotan skies, to where the billowed sunshine of the Mex ican gulf chants its ceaseless anthem to Floridian shores of everlasting green and gold. The ancient Jew was ruled by a theocracy WQ both Jew and gentile, bow befae§.ilh the flower-wreathed, silk lined yoke of a resistless sheogracy. Matchless in grace. Marvelously giftdd in woman's grand endowment—tongue." The language of the above extract may jrps(emble Col. -Donan's: ornate diction, but ^llefcher it" is truthfully attributed to him or otherwise, one thing is certain that Col. Donan never "takes a vigorous pull at the saturine bottle" upon any oc casion whatever. •. There has been a striking illustration recently of the efficiency of the civil service law, showing how mu,cli the sys tem does to recognise merit. There recently came to Washington from New York a gentleman who had been tho principal of a high school, but who, on account of his health, was obliged to abandon teaching. He-did not know a person in. Washington. He passed a high examination under the civil-ser vice -mles, and on one .of'the first elig ible lists was certified to the war de partment. He was accepted on his exam ination-papers and, placed at a desk in the Quartermaster's office. In about two weeks a'Vaciricy Wfiburred in a $1, 200 grade. Although he had passed an examination for that grade he had only been appointed to a $900 position Tho chief of the office so pleased with his work and his industry that he pro moted this New York school teacher to the vacant'$1,200 place. The other ferries in the -office at once asked him who Ilia "backer" was) and insisted that he must have "powerful influence", as so rapid a promotion had never been known 'In a few.-weeks more his efficiency, and diligence was. so mailed -that when a vacancy occurred in the Secretary's office where a persdn was needed.as,- a corresponding clerk, his name was mentioned as well fitted for the pla.ee, and he was at once promoted "& that position, and now holds it to the 'satisfaction of his superiors. This New YoiPAfctoifl teacher, unknown to the politicians, could probably never have received his appointment under the old ssvstem. Edward D. Payne, brotlior of Sanator-elsci 3 Payne, died of paralysis at Daytou, Oliiu $-G,®.«$,*vJ fc-SJ KEMDXA XV rOITI. Yo who stand by when Doath tho latch Uphfto aa fades my little day, Speak not to me or seek to catch The last faint words I say. Let me but hear swoet music's spell— Then weloome, Death! I shall die well, I'm tired of words—too tired to try To seporate the false from true Bettor to cease the strife and die With nought of earth in view. Give me sweet sounds of music, and I shall not ask to understand. A Melody -wherein the heart Its utter weariness forgets, Where harmony with tender art Heals all life's Bore FOR KENT—FOUR ROOMS, FURNISHED watnr, gaa, etc. Marhlo mantel in parlor. Proprietor raiurvrH liiB own rooms, ami wI mill like to board with parties renting, clean-ins only breakfast and tea, with Sunday dinner, in lien of rent. "Won't that be nice? Just what we wanted, you see." "But wo won't get it, you'll see, Li da," groaned tlio mother still panting as her daughter hurried her along. "It'll bo like all tho others—'just tak en,' or "'they dont rent to ladies,' or—" "We can try, anyway," persisted Li da, hopefully. "And—here it is, ma. Look! Stone steps and silver door-bell. How nice!" And Lida rang tho bell, shook the dust from her black dress—for both ladies were in mourning—and looked up to confront the owner, Mr. Campion, a rather stout, elderly gentleman, with tho unmistakable look of a bachelor. Ho eyed the ladies warily. "Rooms? Yes, tliev were for rent but—" "Only see, ma. Velvet paper on the walls, and a dado!" cried Lida. March ing boldly into the parlor, which stood wide open, "And a bay window! We'll take them, of course, ma, and— Do you desire references, sir? We want rooms immediately." Sir. Campion started, somewhat as tounded at such a one-sided way of do ing business. He was an old bachclor, and had all the primv old-fasliftnied ideas indigenous to the "lonely brotherhood." But Lida looked so bright and piquant, her hair was so fluffy and flaxen—the very color Mr, Campion admired' most —her cheeks looked so pink, and her eyes so bright and sparkling, that lie felt his scruples vanishing like dew be fore the morning sun, Besides, they were ladies, unmistnka ably, and— "Do you desire refernces demanded Lida again. "Because—" "Yes—no!" stammered Mr. Campion. I—" He hesitated.. "We could refer you," began Mrs Laurel but lie interrupted her. Lida's eyes had sparkled mischiev ously-at him from under her flaxan "bangs," and Mr. Campion at once de cided that references were not necessary.. "Only there are no—no children, I suppose?" he hesitated turning very red, and addressing Mrs. Laurel. "I—I really couldn't, you know. Children are so destructive and—and noisy." Mrs. Laurel blushed a little herself. I—my daughter,"- she stammered, looking nervously at Lida. "My mother has no children!mtme!" asserted the young lady, saucily. "I won't be very destructive orr-KW noisy, sir!" Dear me, no—cf course not," assen ted Mr. Champion, reflecting her smile. And—so and so—" "Soit's all settledL" cried Lida, "and we'll come this afternoon. Breakfast and tea you said, I think? Very well we can have tea for you to-night, then." And Lida tripped away, followed more slowly by her mother, while -Mr. Campion stared after them as far as, he could -see, then locked the door and went meditatively up stairs. "Thank goodness, the rooms are ren ted at last! he commented, with a sigh of relief, "and now I can-attend to bus iness again'." And that night, as he drank his tea, with-Mrs. Laurel presiding at tho table and Lida sitting opposite, chatting gaily as he dished the canned peaches or passed the ioed. pound-cake, Mr. Campion congratulated himself on his good fortune. "So much nicer than going to a res taurant," lit thought, "with still-looking waiters bringing what you order, and nobody to talk to, wliile you swallow your victuals and get away as fast as you can. It is rather lonesome being an old bachelor, after all,"he concluded. "I don't see how I've stood it so long." And that night Mr. Giles Campion tumbled uneasily on his pillow, his dreams disturbed by a radiant vision with blue eyes and flaxen hair, and cheeks like scarlet azaleas. The -weeks that followed were like a dream of Paradise, and it was not long until he had determined to risk his fate, not exactly on the hazard of a die, but upon the uncertain chance of winning a "Yes!" from that pair of willful, scarlet rod lips. "When star* are in the quiet skies, ,jj Tlion must I pino for tlioe Bond on me, tbau, thy tender eyes, As stars look on the sea!" It was Lida's clear voice, singing the •well-known words, and Mr. Giles Cam pion took it as a favorable augury to 14 ¥jV4, rogrets. Lot music bo my dying breath— From sleep to dreams from dreams to death. —J. L. 8tickney In the Current. "FURNISHED ROOMS." BY ELLEN WHITNEY CLARE. "Dear me, Lida, do stop! I'm tired out, and ready to drop down right now. Lot's give it up and go home. Do 1" Mrs. Laurel fanned herself as she panted breathlessly on after her daugh ter, whose step was still as elastic and springy as if she had not spent tho morning roaming tho streets in search of "furnished rooms." "Just a little further, ma only three blocks," she cried, cheerfully pausing for her mother to catch up with her. "See. This is the advertisement I cut out of to-day's paper: The truth is, it was earlier than Mr. Campion's usual hour for returning home. But having seen Mrs. Laurel pass his office in a down-town car, early in fee afternoon, he had hurried home as fast as possible, determined to "have it out" with Iiida, then and there. For Mr. Campion was very much in love indeed, and did not pretend to deny it, even to himself. And now to hear Lida singing in the back parlor—of course it was a good omen. Nevertheless, Mr. Campion's heart beat faster than usual as he tapped light ly on the door by way of warning, and then opened it—to discover—alas, read er, his Lida, holding a baby in her arms! A fat, saucy, pink-cheeked baby, with Lida's own curling, flaxen hair, and wide-open, vioiet-blue eyes. Mr. Champion stood breathless on the threshold. At first, Lida did not look up, suppos ing it was her mother. But presently, admonished by the silencc, sho raised her head and, dis covering who the intruder was, gave a little cry of alarm, but hold the baby closer to her breast, as if to protect her from somo fancied evil. "Oh, Mr.Champion!" she cried, all tho willful sauciness gone from her voice. '"I—I didn't expect you so soon, or I would have taken him up stairs. But I did want to rock him to sleep so much! Yes, it's my baby," sho explained, des perately. "You never knew it, but I have been a widow over a year now. Baby waft just five weeks old when his father died. I have kept him in my own room always, in the third story, when you were home but it was so close up there. And now you—you'll turn us away,, of course, and I don't know where we'll go, for nobody wants babies, and your board helped so much, too!" And Lida broke down, and fairly burst into teai|-. But Mr. Campion was at her side in a second, with his arm thrown around her, and the baby, too. "No, no, Lida," lie whispered, forget ting Ms embarrassment. "I'll never turn you off. I want you to stay, and be—be my wife Will you, Lida Lida looked a little startled. "Your wife, Mr. Campion And— and baby, too?" she asked, somewhat irrelatively.. "Yes, and baby, too," was tho answer. "Dear little fellow, I love him already." And Jlrs. Laurel, who had just come liome, looked quite surprised at the tableau in the back parlor, but very discreetly slipped away, to change her dress and see about getting tea. And Mr. Giles Campion is a bachelor no longer, having won his wife through the medium of "Furnished rooms." Paid in His Own Coin.. Lafayette, (Ind.) Conrior. "I was in Marion county the other day," said a lawyer to a reporter, "and heard of the death of an old. man I had known there, and it recalled a peculiar case of retributive justice in that family. "Years ago the old man owned one of the best farms in the country, and his son assisted him in working it. The son married and. had. a son. When the grandson was about fifteen years of age his father suggested' to the grandfather that, he was growing- old. and had worked hard all his life, he take things easy and rest the remainder of his days. Ho asked the old man to deed the farm to.him and let him take sole charge of it, with the aid of the grandson. Ho promised the old farmer a good home andlan easy life as long as lie lived. The old. man finally deeded the property to. his son. "No soon, or had. he obtained the '"title to the property thais the son began a. system of'the most heartless treatment of his father. He compelled him. to work harder than he had ever dbno for himself, would not permit him to eat at the family table,.and subjected- 'him: to all kinds of persecutions. The- grand son protested in vain against this treat ment of his grandfather, and finally the old man left tlio- home that he had madia and found* an asylum in the County Poor House.. "After awhilie the son got badly- Jn debt, and soi anxious was he to. escape payment of:liis obligations.that he made a'deed .of tlie farm to liis son. E very thing moved sanootlily foil iitime,. until one day the farmer gave 3pme instruc tions that did not agree with hi& son's ideas ami the latter refused to (consent to them.. Tho father ifcclared that his wishes shonld be carried out,, and or dered his son to leave- the place. The sou, however, reniiiwfed )him that he held the title to tho farm himself, and that as:they couldnotget along together, the father wouldhave to go„ and he did. "After the departure of thefatliei, the son re-established his grandfather in possession of the farm, deeding back everything, Tli» old man, '•clever. gaTo the farm absolutely to his grand son, who provided amply for the old man until he died. The boy's father was offered a home ou the old place, but refusod to accept anything but the title to it all, and the last heard of him ha was working as a farm hand in Wabash Township, this county." A correspondent in noting the great discrepancy of 420 persons at Daniel sonville, Me., in guessing on the weight of^-a harness,- says: "It would be weli to spend a little time with children ed ucating tli6ir sense of distance, size.and weight. A school exercise once a week would be profitable and instructive. Let the pupils draw lines of six inches, a foot, two feet or more write the height, length and breadth of the room •write the dimensions and weight of a book, a slate or a block." n-^--.. s.&•& & wfc his hopes, as he carefully opened front door with his latch-key and en tered the hall as stealthily as if he were a thief in the aet of committing bur glary, instead of a gentleman entering his own domicile in the broad light of day. S* 1 KIMBALL, BRULE COUNTY, DAKOTA, FRIDAY, MARCH 21, 1884 Held Hia Beat. Generally, in skirmishes between the' railroad conductor and the obstinate passenger, the latter gets the worst of it,—as he ought to but now and then, by sheer drollery, the party in the wrong will get the whole car-full of people on his side, and the official has to give it up. An incident of that kind was re ported in the Boston Herald the day be fore last Christmas, which by its very absurdity, .won the good will of,, the spectators: A big, burly, good-naturedly aggres sive man'entered a Charleston horse-car with a huge turkey in his hand, and and having seated himself, he placed his! turkey oh a newspaper in a sitting position on the seat beside him. The car filled rapidly, but the turkey kept its seat, guarded by its burly owner. When the conductor came through the car, he noticed the turkey, and address ing the man, said, "You will have to take that turkey up." "What for?" "To let some of these people sit down. You can't keep him on that seat." "What's the reason I can't?" "Because these people are as much entitled to a seat as your turkey." "Well, who said they weren't? This turkey aint bothering any one, and I'd like to see any one bother him." "You'll have to take him up, anyhow he isn't a passenger." 'No, he isn't but he's a mighty sight better mannered than, the average pas senger you carry. He's clean, he ain't telling all'h'e knows, he isn't drunk, he don't smell of tobacco, and he don't spit all over the floor." By this time all the passengers were laughing and tho peculiar appearance of the turkey, as he sat bolt upright with his legs spread out on the seat, added to the merriment. The conduc tor, annoyed at the laughter, oxcitedly said, "Every seat in this car that's occu pied has got to be paid for now you take that turkey up, or get out." "I won't do it. Here's a ticket for him, and see that you punch it. I guess it don't make much difference to a railroad company what kind of an animal occu pies^ seat, so long it's paid for." So the turkey kept Ids seat, to the great enjoyment of the passengers. Jeair-Iiouis, the Fencing-Master. A quarrel between a French and an Italian regiment in the army of occupa tion,, in Spain was settled liy a solemn duel between the regimental fencing masters, and Jean-Louis, as the chief instructor of tli.3- French regiment in question .took a lead ing-part in it with distinction. But it is much to believe that ho saved his own side all trouble in tliemattter by himself killng or disabling 13 adversaries with out once being touched. Apart from such more than Homeric feats, however, there is quite enough to make Jean-Louis an interesting person. Beginning life as an-"enfant de troupe" iii tho armies of 'the First Republic, a weakly-looking mulatto, without parents.or friends, he gradually rose to be not only a perfect master of fence, but a master who com manded the personal respect of his pu pils, comrades and superior officers, and was notunfrequently consulted in affairs of importance touching personal or reg imental honor. In liis oidiage he appeased a. long-standing feudi between the engineers and the infantry quartered at Montpellier by tho bold and simple de vice of giving a military assault of arms in liis own name, inviting the picked men of both branches of the service to contend and the rest of' the garrison to look on, and at the end making the men a speech, and, with all the authority of his position as "le pero de l'escrime," compelling them to abjure their enmity. Moreover, Jean-Louis.succeeded in mak ing so good a pupil, of his daughter that she completely took, the conceit out of a young professional, (a stranger to the school of Jean-Louis) who had thought it.impossible that a Woman could be a serious adversary.—The Saturday Re view. Palmistry in Fashion^. Lent, this year will be a season for ,study and meditation. Tho last craze, which will reach its zenith thi& coming summer, is the passion for palmistry and fortune-tcllingi. It is onewhiefcrepuires a little reading aiad a trifle off thought. During the solemn hours ift. the Lent just at hand o«r society Uirlles will cram" on thesesubjects for the summer campaign,. Utauldlaug syne the for tune-tellingy witch was wxinkled, and barefoot. She had bleary,,eyes aiid skinny hands, and sent-: unpleasant shivers "upi and down vout-body." Wo are improving on those things. The fort unci-telling witch of toxlay has red lips and!bright eyes, a soft, little, white hand, wilii. rosy polished! npils, and am electric- battery in overy finger-tipi. She -wears dainty Frecuh slippers and. a coqnettish smile, audi carries a lace umljuella with a rosa-pink lining big enough to tint a wliole-nfternoonfoivtwo. B'osides all this, I have heard it said that, the modern witclVis twice as likely to. reveal to you the true image of yonr temporarily loved one as^was ever the anoient articlp. And then, tooy with this change, men have grown more self sacrificing and hmhane. Instead of burning witches at "the stake, a£ they used to do in olden time, men BOW lead them to the altar, and mayhap, most likely, dance a sort of "witolaes'dance" for them forever after.. One Thousand Wires. Do what they may, no Mormon leader will ever equal the Sultan of Morocco, Sidi Muley Hassan, who has just, added the thousandth wife to his harem, and lias celebrated this unique millenary by a brilliant feast given to the other 999 or, rather, to the other 600, for 400 are either dead or pensioned off. Like the Mormons, the Sultan does not keep all his better halves at one place,-but dis tributes them among liis winter and summer residences at Fez, Morocco, Tafilet. etc. Even then, unless he has more palaces than fall to the lot of most r«Efe*3i^r' *v*"^rsr '?t Emperors, there must be enough in each house to seriously interfere with har mony now and then. We wonder if he felt as much pride and satisfaction when he added the thousandth to the number as Baron Tauchnitz did- when he pub lished his thousandth volume of his con venient "Collection of British Authors." For we imagine that after a man has married" his three or fouu hundredth consort—though on this point we must speak with the doubt arising from a to tal lack of experience—lie cares very little for a new wife, as a wife, and re gards each further addition much as a collector looks upon a new- Elzevir, or a new speoimen of Japanese pottery, or another pipe, when he does not care to smoke, another violin, which will hang upon his wall untouched. It is the pleasure of the miser who heaps up- stores a pleas ure which, in this line of hoarding, only one man in the modern world, fortu nately, is allowed to have.. It is curious, however^ to observe that while what might be called the physical wonders of the "Arabian Night's Entertainments" —the carpet or the horse that traveled a month's journey in a d'ayr the talis man that conveyed one's words at once to the distant lover—that -while these and the like are coming true by the powers of modern science the social wonders, as the seem to us Occidentals, are beginning to fade away. A son of this very sultan, the Prince Muley Edris, not long ago married an Italian "govern ess, who did not give up her religion, and who stipulated that she should bo the only wife and a brother of the Sul tan, the sheriff of Wizdan lias an Eng lish wife.—Boston Advertiser. A DEVETSST DISGUISE. A Young Virginia Beauty's Korrlbls Crime—Tries to Kill Ker Hnsband the Second Viffht After Marriage. Ben 1'orley Pooro in Boston Budget Among other stories of real life, which I have heard told at the capital ono of the strangest was of a widow in Vir ginia, who was left with several children among them a beautiful daughter about fifteen years of age. The widow finding herself embarrassed, opened a boarding house at the. country site, and among her boarders was a Mr. W., a wealthy merchant over forty fears of age, but a very fine looking man. This gentleman was tho prop and stay of tho family gave employment to the sons,' educated the daughter at a "fashionable academy," and, very naturally, on her return fell desperately in love with her, when he should have preferred the mother. He pressed his suit with per severance, but the beautiful Mildred re sisted Ids appeals,and tho importunities, of all her friends. Finally, however, after two years-of assiduity and deli cate gallantry on the part of Mr. W., and the combined tears, entreaties, threats and persecutions of the family, the fair girl reluctantly stood before thu altar and became his wife. The next evening a large party was given them, but in the midst of it Mr. W., being attacked with vertigo and sick headaches, was com pelled to withdraw. His young wife hung over him in the silent watches of tlie night, apparently in deep dfetress, and insisted on giving him a potion she poured out a wineglassful of laudanum and he swallowed it, unconscious of its nature. It acted a3 an emetic,-.but left him stupid and wandering. His senses reeled. One moment he lay motionless as if on the brink of the spirit world, and the next he would leap up- convul sively, a strong man in liis agony:. Mrs. W. denied all admission into his cham ber. At length he fell into a dead sleep. She then stooped for a. moment over the smoldering .embers, approached the bed, gazed at her sleep ing husband and holding a heated ladle in her hand attempted 'to pour a stream of melted lead in his ear. She trembled, and the hissing liquid, intended to scald the brain and thus kill without a trace, fell upon his -cheek.. He shrieked in excruciating torture, and- tlie revelers in the adjoining salon ruslued into the chamber.. ,, "•There, writhed the still stupid hus band, tlie lead riveted' deep into his cheek, ajid there stood the fiend-wife, her luitfel fillets, yet upon her brow, the iiibfrrunient of dfcatii in her hand and an: empty rial labeled laudanum, lying "Oil the floor. The fearful realities of thu-eauseflasded upon every one, and in the-confusion of,the-inoment she was liurriod away and: takon to a distant 'Stat&i On searchingvtheapartmentsani old'.nmgazine was found containing the confession of a woman who had murdered: fife-husbands by ponring'l'ead1 into their, ears. The laudanum and the lead .it was ascertained,.she proenred from the state of Mr. W a few days, before- tlie m&xriage, and the-ladle was part of." liis. wedding gift. Tlie,grand jury next morning founct a bill against the- fugi tive, and the Legislature, being iii, ses sion, forthwith deoreed an absolute- div orce. What rendered the caselaore ex traordinary was that Miss was m-oy erbial for the blandness of her planners and uniform sweetness of dis position. The sequel of. this romance is. yet more singular. Years rolled away, and W. codtinued a wretched, and solitary man but the spell of the enchantress was still upon his soul. He closed his store, sold his es tates, collected his ample/means 'and traced her to her distaiit retreat to make anew offer of his hand. She had just married a gentlemau of high standing acquainted with all the details' of her career, shuddering at the tragedy, but incapable of resisting her charms"- Poor .W. Then', indeed, did the iron -enter his soul. "The deadly arrow quivered iifchis side," His early love, his* fluc tuating courtship, his marriage'and the catastrophe, the flight, the divorce, his yearsof misery, the new birth of his passion and now his disappointment, final and forever came crushing over him like an iceberg in the tide of bitter memories, and he prayed for death. It is ssid that W. H. VaprierbUt received over •300,000 in dividends from tha Wagner Bleopiofc Car company last year, he owning ono-Vftlf the Stock of tlir* hat eotwpiwy. 4 & W£fa '4m,r,' THE BSD-COAT WOTE88. A Beminlscence at Marly Court Daja la Wew Bog land. Daniel Webster1 was fond of a good story,, and told a number illustrating his early life in New Hampshire. One evening at a convivial party, where he and several distinguished lawyers were present,- the conversation happened to turn on the legal profession. "When I was a young practitioner," said Mr. Webster, "there was but one man at the New Hampshire bat of whom I was afraid, and that was old Barnaby. There were but few men who dared to enter the list with him. On one occasion Barnaby was employed to defend a suit for apiece of land, brought by a little, erabbed, cunning lawyer called Bruce, Bruce's case was looked upon as good as loat when it was ascer tained that Barnaby was- retained against him. The Suit came on for trial and it was found tliat Bruce had worked hard, and left no stone unturned to gain the victory. The testimony for the plantiff was very strong, and useless it could be impeached, the case of tlie defendant was lost. The principal wit ness introduced by the plaintiff wore a redcoat. Li summing up for the de fense, old Barnaby commenced a furious attack on' this witness, pulling his testimony all to pieces, and appealing to tlie jury if a man who word a red coat was, under any circumstances, to be believed. 'And who is this red coated witness?' exclaimed Barnaby, 'but a deeendant of our common enemy, who has striven to take from us our lib erty, and would not hesitate now to de prive my poor client of his land by making any sort of red-coated statement! During this speech Bruce was walking up and down the bar,- greatly excited, and convinced that liis case was gone, knowing, as he did, tho prejudice of the jury against anything British. Whilst, however, Barnaby was gesticulating and leaning forward to the jury in his elo quent appeal, his slurs bo som opened slightly, and Bruce accidentally discovered that Barnaby wore a red undershirt. Bruce's countenance brightened up Putting both hands in his coat pockets, lie walked the bar with great confidence, to the astonishment of his client and all lookers-on. Just as Barnaby con cluded Bruce whispered in the oar of his client, 'I've got him now—yonr case is safe and approaching the jury lie commenced his reply to tlio slaughtering argument of his adversary. Bruce gave a regular history of the ancostry of his red-coated witness, proving his patri otism and devotion to the country, and his character for truth and veracity. 'But what,gentlemen of the jury,' broke forth. Bruce, in a loud strain of elo quence, while his eye flashed fire, 'what are you to expect of "a man who stands here to defend a cause based on no foundation of right or justice whatever of a man who undertakes to destroy our testimony on the ground that my wit ness wears a red coat, when, gentlemen of the jury—when, when, when, gentle men of the jurv!'(here Bruce made a spring, and catchiiig Barnaby by tho bosom of the shirt, tore it open, display ing his red flannel),-.'when Mr. Barnaby himself wears a red flannel coat con cealed under a blue one?' The effect was electrical Barnaby was beaten at his own game, and Bruce gained the cause."—[Ben Perldy Poore. IN AKJCANSAS. .' _____ Baths and Bathers—Sketches of the People and Things Been There. "To©t-toot-tara-ta,ra-tara." Heart rending strains from brass instruments, arrest the attention and tho 'Hot Springs. Band," twelve or-fourteen strong, in cadet gray and brass helmets surmount ed by,an avalanche of red feathers, come marching down Central avenuo. The local gamins caper delightedly in. the mndaud tho swarming.darkies grin from ear to ear. A procession, too. Colored F.r«o Masons, tho cliicfon a great prank ing-horse sixteen hands high, as -prou^l an.a "Boosliau Duk'o.." It is high noon—Mid the sidewalks are thronged with people^—a motley crowd. Some Boston, New York or iPliiladelphia millionaire, come here- to subdue rebellious* gout or rheumatism jostles a jolly cewr&oy in broad-brimmed 'white sombrero trimmed with silver or rattlesnake skin,. The latter removes a corn husk cigarette from his lips, and utters an "All right, pard," in answer to the other's muttered apology: That stout man witi* Hewing white hair is an ex-Congressmto from Missouri^ whose brother aspires to- the highest: honors iii the .' peoplo's gift while a few./ steps away stands a dare-devil1 Kentucky gambler whose seven or aght notches on. his pistol barrel testify to a private graveyard of his own among the blue grass. That wily looking Cliinaman is. tlie propri etor of a store for the safe of trifles from "for Cathay" and offers vou a liideouaidol as a souvenir- "belly clieep." Behind an improvised counter at the sidewalk's edge a keen-«yecr Arkansian tempts you with centipecles and Texas spiders caffefidly preserved in spirits of wine—""only twentv-ftve cents apiece.1* On» of thfee dealers, supplements liis attraction by a live, rattlesnake about four .feet long. It is kept in an or dinary glass showcase and the passers Uy drum on it to hear the rattles. "Boys, keep a movin'and don't stir the critter up." "Like any crysljals ?"t the Arkansian continues, turning to me. Whisking a cloth from another ease he displays some of the finest specimens I ever'saw. They range in price from twenty-five cents to twenty-fire dollars. For- a very fitto specimen ft local jeweler has refused^two hundred. The "Hot Springs diamonds" have as great' &. reputation hAre as the Cape Hay ones' at home. The local l&pidaries are skill ful and the imitation stone defies detec tion by the casual ^bserrer.—Phila. Times. NUMBER "oro Toxraa woniftifj Tdn of ••flag OenpMta. fbr Dr, Howard Crosby in a discourse on "Our Yonng Women,? say»: ««A' priv mal defect in our social life- is the n*-' tion that girls have nothing to dot Boys are brought np to soma employ ment, but girls to none, except where* pecuniary want compels them. ,Tha family that is 'well off' has busy botr and idle girlsv. The young man, after eating his breakfast, starts off to hia daily occupation, and Returns at the close of the day.. The young woman, after her breakfast,, usually at alatelibur'. saunters about in qoest of amusement?.' Novels, gossip, shopping for unnecess ary triflos, dressing in three or fbar different costumes, formal visiting, drawing (if able), and lounging are-the elements of the young woman's day.* In tho ovening, by way of recreation (I), she goes to tho theater or ball. "This unequal discipline of the BexeS is tho basis of innumerable evils. It makes the girl careless and selfish, it turns ker inind to personal adornment and other frivolous matters as the great' concerns of life it takes away the sense of responsibility ,and produces feebleness and disease in her physical constitution. It also prevents her from asserting:- her true dignity in the eyes of man, for the life of utility is alone dignified. Women, thus brought up in indolence, are looked upon by men very much as were tho women of the old, dark times of the world—as mero playthings, expensivi toys, not as counselors or friends. Mar riage in snch circumstances belongs to a low, sensual plane, and the girl is pre pared neither in body nor in mind foi the serious responsibilities which mar rage implies. Her training, moreover, or lack of training, makes it necossary for a long purse' to supply her. Eoonomy, helpfulness, co-operation—these are not coming ta the new household from this vain source. Dresses, drives, entertainments—these will form the staple demands on. the young husband. Accordingly, in the city life, where this class of young worn*, en is chiefly found, a young m«| it (greatly to his hurt often) kept from marrying by reason of its eostlineM. whereas society should be so ordered that marriage would help the larder, not beggar it. We want simplicity.- ol life, frugality, modesty, industry, and system. .If we could introduce these virtues into our higher soeiety, we,.' should diminish tho despair, envy, jea!« onsy, dissipation, and snicidtos of the single, and the bickerings, wretchednest and divorces of the marriage. "Let our girls have as regular-daily duties as the boys. —Let rialoaa—, .&.• forbidden them. Let recreation be-in* deed recreation, at projier times and iq proper quantities. Let us opra mora, numerous avenues Of female industry, and let every woman be clothed tfith the dignity of a useful life. Can tfcofi Breformation bo brought about? dear madam, begin it yourself. Rilla your liouyhold on this principle. Hkwe courage to defy fashion where itopposes* Be a leader in this reform, and you wilt soon see a host of followers* glad to oease from tho old folly." Statistics of Divorce. J.- Up to the beginning of the present century divorces were few, but about the middle of this period they began tr increase alarmingly. In the New JSngt-v land States during the year 2846/ there were only ninety-four divorcee the next ear there were 129. In 18S4 thenum*^ er reached 299, and increased until in 1864 we find 426 divorces grautjpd^ Dni ing the past fifteen years there has^ee one divorce to every fifteen marriages the State of Massachusetts one to evety' thirteen in Vermont one to hine-ifi Rhode Island, and one to less thaneighiU' in Connecticut. In 1880 there %en 510 divorces granted "in tlie state ca. Maine. Twenty years agoMassadhtlSOTti had only one divorce to-every fiftyttie'" marriages now there.is one divorce -tt. twenty-one marriages. Population hat increased fifty per cent divprcebas ill creased 150 per cent. Oli^o, with Ohe divorce to sevtm-niamages,st(uid&^orst upon the list, while Chicago (franta-lta* to every twelve.—Christian ^*t Wt,,, The Greatest Religious Axn»xiea. Tho great building at Salt X&<£ which the saints havebeen twenty-'ej^kt years in constructing-, is4 approaching. completion. Thomson walls are done. It is built of growth whjoh is hanM from the mountain back iff Salt' liake on.wagons or trucks with wheels twelve feet high,. The walls are ten' foet- in thickness, and! e%hty-five feet It has cost np to- this time $4,600, which has been collected by the tit tax. It will rsquire sir years mpre.-© finish the work. Probably bo oth& cliureh building in the United States has been constructed in away to secure suAMV durability as. is possible to thi». Sotnt? of. those wh« predict the early raiik ofr tlie-Mormpn. hiearohy' are wontkttfog what use they can make of this, temple^: But such calculations are rather prttpeg? tare. Tlie sect may endure iongfcotbafc theteinplex—[Alta California. .J SDIIM idea of the magnitude, of^ thek business of raising sweet-aceirfadjSowere. for their- perfume alme .may bfegat fromribe fact that Eurgpe- sad Bt„ India eonsume about 180,pCBl gall^is handkerchief: perfiunesyearfy thitjthe English revenue from- ean de is $40,000 annually^ Therfris ope aerfume. distillery- at Dannes which uses yeerly- .WO.OOB-:. aeacia flowerajl4O,OOO-p0Wida_o|! flower leavea^ 35,00& poanda of at Dann^^J^oe^ miiK bloasostp, 29(000 pouii«ltf rose blosso«9,aB4#aimpMttt6.! of other cftiteriaX 1*« QprvrapnUicat) Otevelwd/Aprtl SB, win dclcgptoa a'i Urge. Tba Vetattmettta cm •J if.