WISH.
If I conM find the Little Yew,
The Happy Year, the glad New Year,
If could find him setting forth
To seek the ancient track—
I’d bring him here, the Little Year,
„ Like a peddler with'his pack.
.... . E .• ■
And all of golden brightness.
And nothing doll or black.
And all that heart could fancy.
And all that life could lock,
,bhould bo your share of the peddler’s ware
Y\ hen he undid his pack. -
Tfc^tJfSt from ont his treasure
A smile of yours would coax.
And thgn we’d speed him on his way,
At midnight’s falling strokes ;
And bid him hurry round the world,
And serve the other folks !
Maboaket Velit.
AN INCIDENT FROM LIFE.
How damp and cold and foggy it was
in. Lambeth Pftlace Road one December
evening. It was terrible noisy too, for
lingo carts, laden with heavy goods from
the Southwestern Railway terminus
hard hy, tattled incessantly over the
stones, and everybody hurried along to
lie out of the thoroughfare as soon as
passible. - .
Three little urchins formed an excep
tion to the bustling croafd, for they
t lingered for more than an hour round
the big iron gates of St* Thomas’s Hos
pital in spite of the cbnstant knocks and
pushes they received, custom having
made them almost unconscious of such
treatment. Besides, the attraction which
kept them there was a powerful one.
They had actually witnessed, while they
waited, the arrival of no less than three
Christmas trees. Two of them, it ia
true, were only young fir trees dug up
from a plantation somewhere in the
country and sent straight to the hospital
there to be dressed up in all their at
tractive finery, bnt the third tree was a
pres<-ut from the wife of one of the con
sulting physicians and was already
trimmed and decorated and covered
■with toys. ^
There was some delay in moving it
from the light cart and carrying it into
the building, and so the three small
■ boys ontside had time for a long look at
it in all its lieauty. One must be a
child to understand what that beauty is;
colored flags, gold and silver balls, dolls,
trumpets, candles, crackers, sweeties—
they need a child's imagination to bo
appreciated, but we may perhaps, hap
pily have enough of it left in ns to
know how much they convey to him.
The boys on the sticky ^JAvemcnt out
side gave a long-drawn sigh as the beau
tiful tree went ouTbTwghT, and they
turned away to their own usual sur-
discomfort,
help of a good-natured bystander, him
self carried him there, Jimmy and Bill
and several others following.
It was something to be inside those
great walls, as Jimmy and Bill and Pet,
too, thought, while the latter was being
carried by the porter on a stretcher into
the cosuilty wjurd and a big bsH irae
rung for Number One—that is, a young
dresser always handy, who sees a ease
first, and, if if be trifling, attends to it
without sending for the house surgeon.
Bnt of Pet the dresser conld make noth-
surgeon, who came running down from
the top of the high building and applied
himself with the rapidity of a hard-
worked man to the consideration of the
case before him. He did not look over
thirty, but there was an amount Of
dicision, a firmness aiy} n gentleness in
his touch of Pet, which spoke well for
the use had made of his head and of
his> heart. The policeman stated what
he knew and was dismissed, while the
surgeon looked for all the moat likely
symptoms in Pet, and was able to find
none of them. The patient was simply
unconscious. The boys were asked
wifether Pst had boon ill before he fell
down suddenly, and they said : “No,
only the cough!”
And as they both cried, or howled
steadily, all the time, the djresser sent
them away, telling them they might
edme the next morning to hear what
was the matter with their friend, -They,
not sorry to get their dismissal after the
surgeon had arrived on the scene, scam
pered off. *'
Then the surgeon, systematically and
very patiently indeed, Wgan at Pet’s
head and examined him down to his
feet to find some cause for this extraor
dinary unconsciousness, and could find
none. Disease he found indeed, for the
poor little fellow’s Inngs wore half gone,
bnt as he said to the dresser: “Boys
don’t drop down unoon scions from that!”
Being strangely baffled, the surgeon or
dered Pet to be taken to the children’s
ward, undressed and put to bed.
“We’ll see what we can make of him
then,” he said.
It was not by any means easy for Pet
to keep up his acting, especially when
strong ammonia was put under his nose
and almost boiling water to his feet, bnt
he managed it, more now from' pride
than from longing after the Christmas
tree, even. Only when he was lifted by
the nurse into a soft, clean, warm bed,
uuch as he had never dreamt of before,
that small closed mouth of his involun
tarily parted, and something very like a
smile, like the ghost '"of a smile, stole
over his face. , v .
The surgeon, noticing it, was struck
with the idem that tho 1 boy might be
shamming.
A lilTTI.KHKETCIl OK THE PREHIDKNT
OF TUB NOKTHHKN FAC1FIC.
He Rterta eet la l.lle Paer, Sat Mnrrerd* la
Mnklag Ilia Way lata a Fartane Thraoch
Flack and Cheek. ' - t
I met Henry Yillard the other day,
says a newspaper correspondent. He
looks like just wliat Tie is, a shrewd, big-
idead man, whose biggest idea is Yillard.
He’s about fifty years of age, but is
good for thirty years yet, in all hnmar
probability.
He was born in a little town in Ger
many, in easy circumstances, and after
havin’ been a German student and soldier
and All the rest, his folks wanted him to
settle down in Germany and marry a
nice little girl they had picked ont for
him.
The girl was'nice enough, bnt Ger
many was t#o qniet a place, and young
Yillard didu’tfeel a bit like settlin’down.
So he gave his good folks a spasm by
telling ’em he had made up his mind not
to marry, and to go to America. The
old folks tried to coax him to stay, bnt
he wouldn’t be coaled. He bade his
mother good bye and the^rrl, took his
fafVtsvr’a lilnaain* nrul R littU'of llifl fflthcr’s
father’s blessin’ and a little of his father’s
money with him, and came to America.
Durin’ his care A as a newspaper man
he came across William Lloyd Garrison
and his daughter* The young lady
took a fancy to him, and as Yillard by
this time had forgotten his German
girl, who, by the way, had got married
herself, he “settled down” at last and
married Miss Garrison. He then set to
work and dabbled in stocks so shrewdly
and successfully that he soon got rich;
and not only made money, which is
easy, bnt kept it, which is harder, and
invested it so as to make a fortune,
which is hardest of all.
As a well-to-do capitalist and a mar
ried man, he made a visit to his native
town and his family, and was introduced
to the man who had married his first
ove—with whom ho became fast friends.
Ho also made the acquaintance of leadin’
capitalists at Frankfort, and induced n
good many Germans to invest in western
railways in which he was interested.
Among others, tho husband of his first
girl invested under his lead, and Yillard
took double pains to see this mau all
right, both for his own suite and that of
his wife. It ain’t every man who gets a
chance to make money fora woman he
don’t marry.
YHlard formed an Oregon company,
of which he was tho head, and this Ore
gon company obtained control of the
Northern Pacific, in a very skillful and
darin’ fashion. Yillard is a great bej.
liever in the one man power^lhat is
roundings—mud, fog, cold,
such as thay had been accustomed to all
through their short'dives.
“My !” said one of them, Jimmy by
name; “wouldn’t I just like to be sick in
there and ’ave that there tree to play
with!”
It was a sentiment echoed by the
other two, as they edged themselves
along the railing of the hospital, making
their way back toward the room they
usually slept in in Lambeth.
, “Well, we ain’t sick,” said mother of
them, called Peter, although the harsh,
dry voice he spoke in and his white,
wan face might have told another tale.
"And so we ain’t got no tree 1" said
the third boy, Bill. They had almost
reached the corner of Westminster
Bridge, in depressed silence, when Pet
—as he was commonly called—suddenly
stopped, and, with a smile that was
pleasing enough to see, although his
companions did not notice it, exclaimed:
“Ain’t I got a hidea 1”
After which statement he propounded
to his attentive audience, ideas being, if
not rare, always interesting to boys.
And certainly Pet’s was original and
worthy of consideration.
He suggested that one of them should
feign to be ill; should get taken into
tho hospital, and when opoe there should
see the tree in all its glory. __
The plan sounded delightful, the only
objection to it.being that they could not
all plav the principal part in it They
uecnl^J who should be the lucky one by
the all-popular method of tossing, and
Pet won the toss. This was fortnnate,
for besides having distinctly the first
right to his own idea, which the lad did
not think of, he was the only one of the
three who won Id have been capable of
acting his part; hut Pet did not know
this either.
Ho only gave Jimmy and Bill a few
hints as to what, they were to do, how
they were to look as scared os possible
when Bill’s father camo home at night,
and how they were to say they knew
nothing of Pet, except that he was sud
denly “took bad.”
Whcrenpon the “taking” promptly
occurred, and with a thud that was unex
pected even to Jimmy and Bill, Pet
threw himself down at full length on the
pavement. A 'small crowd instantly
collected round them. Most of the peo
ple only stared a moment and then
(tassed on ; one or two expressed pity f
sod after a few moments the inevitable
policeman arrived and pushed his way
up to Pet’s side, roughly questioning
Jimmy and Bill They whimpered a bit
and looked frightened—to order, and
the policeman, after rolling Pet over
with his foot spd finding him appar
ently altogether unconscious, said ha
mast goto tile hospital, and. with the
“Fetch tbe battery here,” he said.
_ Pet did not know what a battery
meant, or his smile would certainly have
disappeared as involuntarily as it had
corne.
The surgeon waited by his side, hold
ing his small hand and thiuking to him
self that, shamming or not shamming,
Pet had the most pathetic face he had
met with in all his experience of sadness
and snffering.
Then the battery was brought and a
slight shook was administered from it
down Pet’s back.
“Oh I that was horrible!” thought
the lad. “What was it? Would it
come again ?”
He managed not to wince under it the
first time. A second and a harder
shock was given. Pet did not quite
scream, bnt he pressed bis fingers m
hard into the honse surgeon’s hand that
the latter knew he was right in his con T
jecture. Then a third shook was given
—a stronger one, and this time Pet
sprang out of bed with tears starting to
his eyes and exclaimed:
“Oh ! don’t do it again; don’t do it
again!”
One or two students round were
laughing, bnt the surgeon did not see
anything bnt pathos in the’scene, as he
said, gravely:
“Then yon are not ill, and have been
giving ns all this tronble for nothing.
Why did yon do it ?”
He wanted the lad to tell the thith,
and of eonrse to him Pet did.
“Please, sir,” he said, not crying now,
but looking straight with his great gray
eyes into the doctor’s face, “ ’twas the
tree, the Ohristmas tree, as I wanted to
see so awful bad 1 Me and Jimmy and
Bill, we seed it a-carried into here, all
beantifnl, and—and—I did want to see
it again 1”
“And so yon pretended to be ill, that
you might come in here, and ”
“YeSj sir.”
"And what am I to do with yon now,
do you think ?*
“Turn me out again," saidc Pet
promptly.” - • A
There was something very like
quiver in the surgeon’s voice as he said
with infinite tenderness:
“No, my lad, I shan’t do that to you,
you shall see the Christmas tree in here,
You are not what you pretended to be,
but you are quite ill enough to stay in
the ward until after Christmas time, anc
then we will see!” •/..
And so Pet had his Christinas tree,
sad Jimmy and Bill came in at the
surgeon’s invitation to see it, too, bnt
Pet did not go back with them after it
to Lambeth. He never leJt the hoapita
again, lor consumption'ran a rapic
coons with him, and before three month*
wen ove* be died in the ward.
V
havin' one responsilde head for every
thin’, and lettin’ the head have all the
power, as well as all tho responsibility.
Well, in this Oregon company he was
the “one man.” And he didn’t propose
to take any advice or listen to any in
structions from anybody else, but to do
precisely as he thought best. Bnt.at
the same time he couldn’t do anythin’
without money. And ho couldn’t get
any money unless the stockholders were
willin’ to advance it, and they wouldn’t
naturally be ready to advance it unless
they were oonsnlted as to what they ex
pected to advance the money for. Here
was a problem. But Yillard set to work
and solved it in a very Simple and bold
—not ’ to say “cheeky”—sublimely
cheeky—way.
Ho called a meet in’ of the stockhold
ers, and in a few words told ’em he
wanied-lein tn advance him eight million
When a committee of workmen come
to yon and say that, os you have a great
many contracts half finished, and os men
are scarce and hard to get, and as they
have you on the hip, they will strike in
ten minutes unless yon allow them to
set their own pay at the highest figures,
then thatt is a monopoly that acts just
precisely as the Western Union does
when it absorbs a rival line and tells you
that, as there is only one office in this
town, they will raise the rate a little.
When yon tell your workmen that
times are dull, and the market is stag
nant, and that yon don’t need them
anyhow, and they can work on half tune
or none, they you are the monopoly.
That is, you are tho striker. A monop
oly is a chronic striker. It is always
watching a chance to pinch you and
squeeze a little more work or money out
of yon for its own benefit.
And the lady who burns stake and
chips china for }ou at $3 a week is a
monopolist. You spent six weeks look
ing for her, she stays with yon two
weeks, breaks $8 worth of china and
glass, and loses $2 worth of spoons and
forks, collects $0 for wages and goes off,
with twenty-four hour«i warning, to a
place that offers her more china to smash
amt £3.r>0aweck for smashing it.
You see, my son, in looking about for
a monopoly to denounce or demolish,
our naturally envious dispositions lead
us to assail the monopolies that are more
fortunate than our own. We clamor
against Yanderbilt and Jay Gould and
Western Union, and fail to observe the
smaller monopolies that differ from the
great ones, not in spirit, bnt only in
wealth and power. - *
A monopolist isn’t necessarily a mil
lionaire. He is simply the man who
holds the whip-handle. It is derived
from two Latin words—mono and pole,
meaning the man at the pole. And
the man at the pole, you kuow, knocks
the persimmons. He may knock a
million of them or he may knock only
two; but while he is knocking you don’t
get any.
Heuce, my son, a monopoly is a pros
perous combination of which we are not
one.
This makes it very wicked, avaricious,
and dangerous.
When we get into it, it ceases to bo a
monopoly and becomes a union, a broth
erhood, a firm, an association, or a cor
poration. This change of title also in
volves a great moral change, and it be
comes a mighty engine of progress, a
developer of our country’s resources, ■,
factor in the national prosperity, and all
that sort of thing.
__A monopoly is a thing which it is hard
to gefcdnto.
There is no monopolist so greedy and
dangerous as the Nihilist. The ordinary
monoplist is content to control one
thing. The Nihilist wants everything,
and a three-fifths share of what is left.
If you live to be thirty-five years old,
and have not been able to get into any
other monopoly by that time, I would
advise you to go to the North Pole and
start an ice-cream saloon,
(TORDM
WIHIMI.W HV
UAKDMKIt.
nuoTiilcv
Aa ASSrvae t'pan a Verj- Mrrloan Mahjert.
Beware of the Rat'
Life is one continuous rat-trap>
set and baited with cheese to cal
unwary. The bnsinees man goes abOj: t
AJ CT tTtstrtuciOS v'vrUovJIvlAAO bills b vuv2 acsv
trap is set where he can get into it. He
extends his business, gives credit and
gets credn himseTfreveiryHnng isTjbbm-
doliars, for a purpose which was unwise
just then to make public, or even to
conimnuicate to anybody, but which in
s opinion was bound to be a magnifi
cent investment.
This kind of talk almost took tho
breath, and quite took the starch out of
a number of the stockholders. Bnt the
colossal impudence of this request was
an argument in its favor with the rest.
They argued that no man could possibly
ask for auch morfey if he didn’t have a
good thing to place it in. Tho very
secrecy made the thing more mighty as
well ns mysterious. Besides Yillard hud
always been known as a shrewd man,
and a man of good judgment and charac
ter. Such *»,man most people argned
wouldn’t ask ifor eight milions unless he
had something to do with it So the
majority of stockholders agreed to Vil-
lard’s idea, and absolutely lent him over,
not less than, bat more than, the eight
million he asked for, thus “goin’ it
blind*Mo an enon^pps amonnt Yillard
thanked his friends in a few words, and
then set to work to show that their con
fidence in him had not been misplaced.
And he soon proved it
~ In * few months ifrmwTound ont that
the Oregon Company which had not
hitherto amounted to much, bad
through Yiliard’s fine work, got control
of tbe greater part of the stock of the
Northern Pacific road. This job had
lieen done very quietly. The stock had
been bought, not .by the lamp at once,
bnt gradually lot by lot, In various
names, by various parties. Bnt it all
got down to the Oregon Company and
Henry Yillard after alL
It was the most tremendous “blind
pool” on record, I believe. It reads like
a fairy story, this asking bnsinees men
to lend a man eight millions on a mys
tery, bat it is the simple fact
If we eannot all be rich a^ chew pie
we can eschew it and live fifty yean
mure and enjoy life, .
ing and ho is sailing along as nice as
your pa was on the roller skates, when
all at once there is a slack np in business,
ne can’t collect what is owing to him,
and he has to pay what he owes, be
clntches and claws at friends for help to
keep him from falling, bnt friends have
got all they can attend to to keep on their
feet, and they do not reach ont to help
him, and suddenly his feet go ont from
under him and he strikes something
hard, and he finds that he is in life’s
great rat-trap, and his creditors do not
hurry to nnspring the trap, and he waits
for the plnmbdir as your pa did, and
thinks what a fool he has made of him
self. A l>oy gets a situation in a store
at five dollars a week, and in three
months he thinks ho owns the store. He
is promoted and has his salary raised,
and then he begins to dress better than
the proprietor, plays billiards till the
saloon closes, goes to his cheap board
ing place with beer enough in him to
start a new saloon, gets to buying wine
and hiring livery rigs, and some day
plain looking man calls on him and takes
him np to the police station, where he is
told that his cash account is six ban
died dollars short, and as he hears the
key tarn in the door of bis cell he
realizes that he has dropped square on
to -life’s rat-trap, which he knew was
there all baited for hiim, bnt he did not
have sense enough to keep away from
Ah, boy, beware of the rat-trap.—Peck-
“A Phii.adfi.phia scientist can tell,
on examining a hair pin, tbe color of the
owner’s hair.” And -a Philadelphia
woman, on examining a hair found on
the shoulder of her hnsband’s coat, can
tell whether he has lied or not—and shs
-is not a scientist, either. —NorrUtoum
Herald. ,
Qnrs a number of cases where girls
have been deceived by mock marriages
have been reported of late, which impels
The Hotel Mall to remark that no gir
has any bosiiMM marrying a mao that
she hasn’t knoVn at least ted minntea.
— • A-
[From the Detroit Free Prew.]
“I desire to annonnoe,” said Brother
Gardner is he rose up and looked around
on the bald heads before him, “dat de
Right Very Honorable Erastns Du Biff,
LL.D., of West Point, Ga., am waitin’
In do aunty-room to deliber a leektur’
befo’ dis club. Do snbjick ho has choosen
on dis illustrious occasion ana T 'What
will de fuchur* bring fo’th ?’ He arrove
heah two days ago, an’ has bin occupyin’
de spar’ bed in Bradder Walpole’s house.
Arter de lectur’ a colleckshnu will l>e
tooken up fur his benefit, and to morrer
mawnin* he will puroeed on his way to
Toronto. De committee will- now pur
oeed to bring him in.”
When the committee reached the
ante-room they found the Right Very
Honorable bathed in a cold jierspiration
and his paper collar fast wilting away.
He had an attack of what is called
“stage fright,” and the committee had
to.Vub his bock with a brick, pour cold
water down his ncek, and lend him
fifteen cents in nickels before he could
sufficiently command himself to enter
the hall. He finally appeared, a rosy
smile mortgaging his features and his
head nodding from one to another, and
was formally introduced by the Presi
dent He seemed on the point of wilt
ing again, bnt Brother Gardner whm-
red to him that if he did he’d have to
go out of town on foot, and tho warning
stiffened his legs and made a new mau
of him.
“My frens,” he softly began, “I
reckon dat mos’ of yon know what de
word fuchur menus. It doan’ mean do
hnskin’-liees of las’ y’ar, but it refers to
goin’ a-fishin’ ncx’ summer. De fuchur
means dat which am lief o’ us. We
know what de past has brnngout. What
will happen in de fuchur cannot l>e
known bnt may be predicted. I am
heah to-night to predict.
“I do not say dat de fuchnr will see a
cull’d man occupyin’ do White Honse at
Washington, bnt I predict dat if de
Norf Pole am ever diskivered it will be
by some member of de Lime-Kiln Club.
“De cull’d man of de fuchur may not
l>eeome world renowned for inventin’ an
I^OO-barrcled cannon, but I sec no reason
why he shouldn’t bring fo’th a steam
xxdjock or diskiver a way to patch
butes wid cold pancakes. Bteam be-
ongs to de past. A hundred y’ars hence
it will be too' Blow fur any' bizness ’oept
sawin’ up wood fur poo’ folks.
“I do not assert dat de fuchnr will
do away wid railroads, bnt de son of
some pnsson now widin’ sound of my
voice will win fame by inventin’ some
way of killin’ de brakeman who emag-
mea dat his sole duty consists in roastin’
de passengers in each car v - . *
“De fuchnr may not solve de prob-*
lem of flyin’ frew de air, bnt who kin
tell what de next fifty yean may do to
ward improvin’ de hotel bed an’ de
restaurant sandwich ?
•To-day we Stan’ an* look upon de
sewin’ masheen as perfeckshun. Fifty
years hence men will smile at de ideah
of our bein’ satisfied wid any sieh affair.
A wife will take de sewin’ masheeu of de
fnchnr an’ support a lazy hnaban’ an’
children widout workin’ ober two
dayp in de week.
fnchnr will have a heap to do
A Mam of Busixiss.—Dumley and
young Brown were on their way to sup
per snd the former seemed unusually
quiet -—,—
“What’s the matter with you?” asked
Brown. “Yon look rather down in tbe |
mouth.”
“Oh, ii^snothing of any consequence,’
replied Dnmley* “I asked Smith this
morning to lend me ten dollars for a
day or two and be wouldn’t accommo
date me. He said he hadn’t got it”
"Th»c's strange; he generally has
WHAT WM FIND IN TOMI TO I
OVER.
1=
ihiMln
money, hssn’t ho?”
“Always," replied Dumley, “I saw him
pat a roll of bills in his pooket only a
moment licfore.”
“Very funny,” said young Brown.
“You and be are old friends, ain’t you?”
“Yes; he has known me all my life.”
“And he wouldn’t lend you ten dol
lars? Some men are meant I- never
liked Smith any way. He always struck
me as Iteing too much of a man of busi
ness, too—too fond of looking ont for
numlicr one. I believe that if Smith
wen* to lose a ten-dollar bill it would
break him all np. f like to see a man
take a chance onoe in a while. What’s
ten dollars to a man like Smith? He’s
rich and conld afford to lose ten times
that am "
But hero the boarding-houfe was
gained and Dnmley’s sudden vault up
the steps ended tho conversation.
Who He Was.—“You know, ma, that
In Philadelphia, people always ssk who
one’s grandfather was, and as I am going
there yon must tell me. Was my grand
father a judge, or a governor, or a presi
dent, or anything ?”
“Well, no, my dear. He became very
rich, though, and yon may say he had
something to do with banks. ”
“Bnt what was his profession or
trade ?”
“Oh, never mind abont that.”
“Bnt these Philadelphia people will
ask me, yon know.”
“Well, the only trade he ever learned
was shoomakiug.”
"Shocmaking! Oh, well, he got rich,
so that is all right.”
“Yes; ho made shoes a great many
years. He learned the tirade and worked
at it in a penitentiary, bnt you need pbt
mention that.” ,
No Ckahou fob Abockewt.—House
keeper—“I do not want any more of
your milk.” \ - ■ :
Milkman—“Going to move?”
Housekeeper—"No; I am not going
to move.”
Milkman—^Got too poor to take milk,
eh ?”
_ Housekeeper—“No, I am going to
get my milk of another man. ”
Milkman—“Yon can’t say I have not
served yon well. I have always seen
that you were well supplied.”
Housekeeper—“That is just the
trouble. I have been well supplied,
and I don’t intend to take any more of
you until that w£tl of yours dries up.”
Vkry Shibtsiohtkd.—Pennsylvanian
—“I see that a Buffalo man has spent
£3,000 boring for water and has not got
a drop yet.”
Kentuckian—“Boring for wateri’
Pennsylvanian—“For water.”
Kentuckian—“Great Uranns f $3,000
spent in boring for water! Why he
could have started a distillery on half
thAt”—Philadelphia Evening Call.
. a*n it.
O h
d »
BSC
this Brest b'g
■ < - - -
ton or mors I.
it Fare ms MB
ing csreas.
s i Dunne),
Ml MT _
- .tbe antaaraair. Ons
A errning I did gladly
. . * wUirl into tbs ds-
—J’ " msinofmyEbi Ws
smELP
met down ts-dts
gate to rpooo, be
neath the glesm nd -
harvest moon. 1
preened a kirn upon
Iter Upa. It waa so ^
sweet I gave another
rip. Oh! then be caaMD
the owner of thn boot 1 ~
the tame. I felt a pres-
rare sore and quick, to
mdden that it made me
rick. Ten feet into tbe pir I *
flew, and dropped into tbs
hone pond too. I ewore with al
my might and main, I never
would make low, an never again onto
a maid whose pa be wort— it isn’t
fn n - a hoot
-.WAUAan Timet
of oats, my
that’*
wid our own pertickler race. De Somnel
Shin of a hundred y’ars hence may be a
city comptroller;, de Giveadam Jones
will be President of a college; de Pickles
Smith will boss a railroad; de Waydown
Bebee will have his name mixed up wid
snoslmnal bank; de Lord Nelson Slabs
may command an army an’ de Brudder
Gardner will sit in de Gubiner's room at
de State House an’ sign his offisbul
name to de bills passed by de Legis-
lachur. [Wildcheers.] Wid dese few
impervious remarks I is dan. I return
my sympathetic adherenoe for do tyran
nical manner in which yon has bestowed
yonMttenshan an’ take my lei-ve of yon
m de moos’ emblematical manner.”
The closing remarks were gseeted
with inch a storm of applause as
broke out several window-panes and
upset two lamps. The honorable gen
tleman was then conducted from tho
hail, imd the collection taken np for his
lienent netted him the handsome sum of
$7.30. .
He Swore Himself.
The San Franciso Chronicle say* :—
A Montana postmaster, who arranges
the mails for the little town of Birnoy,
lives eighty miles from s notary public.
When he sent in his first quarterly re
port he admininstered the oath to bun-
self and then certified to the correctness
of the account. A reply soon came back
from the red-tape headquarters in Wash
ington that he hod violated a sacred
precedent and must get a notary to
swear him. His retort was that he
knew no precedent which would assure
him mileage and traveling expenses for
*160 miles in order to get a notary’s sig
nature. This left the department not a
Iqg to stand upon and they have since
preserved a disertet silence and allowed
the Montana man to swear as he pleased
“ Yoca father is worth aft legat half i
milhoo,” said he to his jetkms sweet
h^arl “That ia true,” she mumured.
"And yet you doubt my love,* be re
plied, in an injured tone.
9 WHAT CAUSED FT.
Little Nell—“What ia
of, mamma ?”
“Mamma—“It is mad
child.” .
Little Nell—“Oafta? Why,
what they feed to hones.”
Mamma—“Yet, dear.”
Little Nell—“No wonder Tm no (
hoarse.”
THE STLEKT KAIOMTT.
Jones, who was a peaceable i
ried a very strong-minded
sometime after a friend who
abroad was asking Brown about him.
. “Alas, poor Jones,” said Brown, “he
has joined the silent majority,”
“Good heavens, he ain’t dead, is kef
When did it happen ? I never baud of
it before”
“Oh, no, he is not dead.”
“Well, if he ain’t dead, how could he
have joined tbe silent majority?”
* ‘Poor man, he’s married. "—Merekm*
Traveler.
SHODDY ABISTOUIUCfT
“Mirinh, I am shocked that you should
;ven think of having those StepUas
girls as bridesmaids at your wedding.”
“Why, mamma, they are two of the
sweetest, nicest, most highly-cultivated
young ladies in tbe city. They have
traveled all over the globe and an' >e-
veived everywhere.”
“Bat jolt {EhaETMuiab, of thsuftigms
which attaches to them. Before the
I war their father, who afterward goft rich
on on army contract, lived on a farm mid
actually made and sold batter. Just
think of it I*
“But does not my father make end
sell butter, too?”
“No, indeed. Why, you shook met
How could yon think of such a thing?
Your father is a manufacturer, and the
product he manufactures is soft vulgar
butter, but oleomargarine — a highly
and very Imporkmt article of
commerce. ”—Philadelphia Call.
THE BAS SOT’S LAST
m
%
A Burled Tillage.
A buried village has been found by
the Hon. Amodo Chaves a mile from
his house, near Socorro, New Mexico.
Mr. Chavca writes to the Sante Pe
Itnnew: “It is built of stone. The
outer walla are three feet wide, and the
city is large enough to have accommo
dated 3,000 souls. I have already
cleared four rooms in tho upper story
and two on the first floor of one house.
The dimensions of the first-floor room
just finished are 11x12 feet, while from
floor to celling tho distance is abont
fifteeb-^ feet The village is almost
square, and this building is sitnated at
the northwost eoiTier. Tho large room
has a large door leading to {ho ontside
of the wall, bnt no window^ whatever.
In this room I found the skeleton of a
girl. The hair ia in s perfect state
preservation, it is fine, and of a chest
nut color. I also found there a string
of fine coral beads, one of torquoise
(leads, another of long ivory beads, and
a ring set with a block stone, on top of
which is a piece of torquoise. All tbe
timbers of the roof are burned to a char.
I have arrived at the door which ap
pears to lead to inner rooms, and I am
foil of curiosity to open it, but tbe
second floor is only supported by the
stones and debris about the door, and
should I attempt to remove these tbe
upper story will tumble in and fill np the
lower rooms, just cleaned ont, with
mass of stone, chaerfd timbers
debris.”. t
“What’s that ?” said tbs groearymati,
turning pale and starting for the door,
where he fohnd s woodaawyer taking a
pear. “Get away from thaw,” snd he
drove the woodaawyer away and earns hi
with s sign in his hand, on which was
painted, “Take one.” “I painted that
sign and put it on a pile of chromos of a
new clothes wringer, for people to ftake
one, and by gum, the wind bee Mown
that sign over on to the basket of pears,
snd I suppose every darn fool that has
passed this morning has taken a pear, • *-
and there goes tbe profits on the whole
day’s business. Bay, yon didn’t change
that sign, did you?” and the grocery- •
man looked at tbe bad boy with aglanee
that was foil of lurking suapieioo.
“No, air-ree," arid tbe boy, aa ha
wiped Ibe pear juice off his fees on a
piece of tea paper, “I have quit aH
kinds of foolishness, and wouldn’t phy
a joke on a graven image, "—■flee*’* <
1*.
and.
“No,”said Mrs. Shoddy, “we will not
have turkey for Thanksgiving dinner.
All the poor folks in the back street ore
going to indulge in turkey on that day,
and that will make the dish too common
for n\ a family of means. What, is tha
dunning grocer hers again with his biH?_
Well, tell him I won't be able to pay
him for a month or more, and if < the
hotelier calls to-day with hi* ball, tell
him I am not at home.”
fli’M ix foreaigh t often lenutu its pft<Nad>
cst poaauuur only a oholoe of evils. .
IT* TKIED THE FASB.
A fewdsyi
ind humble expr
i immer suit of clothes i
the railroad passenger i
head pass to Toledo.
“Why do yon want to go
“To gR married.’
“And you haven’t any I
“Not above twenty-five oenta,” .
“Hadn’t you better be worth your fare
to Toledo before taking a wife on your
hands td support?”
“You don't understand the ease,” pm
tested the man, “I’m going to marry a
widow worth at least $5,000, sari tha
first thing I shall do will be to remit yon
the price of a ticket. Fm poor aad the
widow knows it, bnt she maRke malar
lore.”
— He protested so
that be was finally passed dome thAfp
road,
ter wi
' Heaven blase;
Reached hnrs aU i
widow
turns
thia<
both to!