University of South Carolina Libraries
BABY LOUIS& I’m in love withjou, Baby Louise! With your gilkon hair and your aoft blue eyes, And the dreamy wisdom that in them liei, And the faint sweet smile you brought from the skies— Clod's sunshine, Baby Louise! When you fold your hands, Baby Ixratud— Your hands, like a fairy’s, so tiny and fair— With a pretty, innocent, saiut-hke air, Are you trying to think of some angel-taught prayer Yon learned above, Baby Louise ? I’m in-igM- with you. Baby Louiae ! Wby, you never raise your beautiful head! Borne day, little one, your cheek will grow red With a flush of delight to hear the words said: “I love you," Baby Louise, Do you hear me. Baby Louise ! I have sung your praise for nearly an hour, -And yonr lashes keep drooping lower and lower, And you’ve gone to sleep like a weary flower, Ungrateful Baby Louise ! MABQA.nET Eytinqe. -A. ~Wife’s Charm A pout upon the red lipe of Gerald Sinclair’s young wife—unmistakably a pout- for thoagh a wife of almost two years, her fond, indulgent husband had for the first time said nay to an openly expressed wish. The fancy ball of tho season, a grand And fashionable assemblage, was to take place during his absence, and he had said that he should prefer she would not attend. She was only 20. Let this mnch be s ild in extenuation of the two great tears that rose to tho brown eyea and slowly tiickled down the pretty face, splashing ou to tho dainty morning dress, which, clinging to the dainty form, revealed sq perfectly its graceful outlines. Certainly, Niobe had no reason to feel ashamed of this one of her children. But Gerald Sinclair hail only stooped and kissed away the glistening drops, in a half-hnrried manner, perhaps to hide his awakening remorse. "Never mind, little wife. I’ll make it up to yon another time.” Then he was gone; but she sat still turning and returning her wedding ring, with eyes Writ upon it. It was a curi- ons ring—a solid band, set with five large diamonds. It had been her charm, her talisman, Dot to lie taken from hrr finger until soul and body had parted; but thisV morning it had lost its charm. If it failed to scatter the clouds,Wit failed to bring back the sunshine. Even when the hour came round for Gerald’s home-coming, he missed his usual warm welcome^ but he thought that he might trust bis wife’s heart and said nothing. The next day ho started on his journey. "You’re‘not going, my dear?” cx- elaimed Mrs, Martin, bursting in upon her friend on the morning of the ball. "And why not?” "Gerald is away," replied Mis. Sin clair, with some little show of wifely dig nity, as though the fftet wore in itself sufficient explanation. "And why not'd that make any differ ence?” pursued Mrs. Martin, a Switch ing little widow, some years her friend’s senior. "I will share my escort with yon—Count Belzoni 1” Sophie Sinclair looked up amazed. She knew the man mentioned had but lately gained entree into society, and knew also that her husband disliked and distrusted him. Once or twice she had seen his eye fixed admiringly upon herself, and hud felt somewhat as the bird might feel beneath tho basilisk glare of the ser pent. "Well, why don’t you answer ?” con tinued Mrs. Martin., "Will you go?” "No, no,” she replied, trying to speak with firm decision. "Besides, I do not think that Gerald admires the Count.” "Prejudice, my dear, all prejudice, The Count is the most charming and rgreeaUe man 1 know. Indeed, I think I should be canonized for mj willingness to share his attentions, especially as I have heard him say all manner of pretty things about you." “Nonsense, Ellen,” retorted Mrs. Sin clair. But she felt the ground slipping be neath her feet as she spoke. After all Gerald had not said positively no I Had he thought it necessary after he bad openly expressed his disappro bation of her going? He hod not known that she would lie so sorely tempted. Besides she would wear a mask. No one would know her; and when she told Gerald he would for give her. A sudden thought came to her. "I will go,” she said at last, after eon- tinned urging, and looking at tho pic ture in all its brightest lights, "on one condition, and that is that no one is to know me—not oven the Goufit. Say that you have persuaded a friend to acoom- pany you, who wishes to remain un known. I will come to your house, where he will find me, and thus gain no elue.’* So it was decided; hut, in spite of hei exquisite costume of a (airy as she c6nr- 1 cealod it and herself beneath a large domino, as the dock on her mantel chimed ten, jt seemed to Sophie that every stroke said: “Stay 1 stay I” She waa altars* tempted to obey it, but she had promised Elko; end, sftei afl, she had heard that it was well for young wives to assert themselves. • tho Court Botf zoni’s arm, she entered upon the brilliant scene. So far he had not seemed curi ous to ascertain her identity. She ex perienced at this a singular sense of relief. The ball was at its height when the clock rang out the hoar of midnight, but for the first time in her life light and gayety were distasteful. A hundred times she wished herself at home. "I will tell Gerald. I have already been punished,” she whispered to her self, as she stood for a moment alone iu a quiev eoner. "You look more like a nun than a fairy—rather like one who had fore sworn the vanities of the world, than a siren to tempt men to their destruction, ” said a voice close to her, "though to the latter I know no one more fitted.” “Sir!” she exclaimed indignantly, rec ognizing, as she spoke, the Count standing at her elbow. "Ah, you thonght I did not know you. I should penetrate any disguise you wore. Besides you have forgotten to re move a badge of recognition. ” She followed with her eyes his down ward glance, and saw that it rested on her hand, ungloved, as in better accord with the exigencies of her costume. Involuntarily she drew it away, with the nng wnich had betrayed her. Denial was useless. "Since you know me, then,” she said, "we will not further play a part. To tho other's wo are masks, to ourselves we are ourselves.” "Ah, mailame,” he whispered, "let us rather say to the world wo are ourselves, to each other we are a mask. Can men, think you, look coldly on sueb-btaaty as you possess? Can——” Indignant and alarmed, she checked his further speech by starting forward to escape him. His hand closed on her* as iu a vice. She wrenched it from him sprang among a crowd of maskers, and so made her way to the door. "Call a carriage for mo,” she directed. Ten minutes later she was within her own home. Her first impulse was to tear oiT the hated coatume which had caused her such trouble; her next to throw herself on the bed ami sob out her excitement and contrition. The morning sun, streaming into her room, awoke her. With a shudder, she remembered the events of the past night. She looked down at her hand—tho hand which had lieen polluted by another’s touch—as though in some way she expected to find the contamination brand on its soft white surface. It was all unm&rred; but— She looked again—she rubbed her eyes aud looked—the color mean while fluttering out of her cheeks, and her pale lips quivering, as if her heart seemed to stand still in a sudden agony of fear; for from the third finger was missing tne talismanic ring. When and where she had lost it, and how could she now find the courage to confess all to. Gerald ? She rose and dressed, revolving this problem in her mind. At any hour her husband might re turn. Pbr the first time she dreaded to meet him—dreaded to look into his kindly, handsome eyes and read there all his incredulous reproach, mingled per haps with scorn and anger. The day wore on. Her friend, Mrs. Martin, rau-in to sooid her for her deser tion; but her pale faco and trembling tones made good her plea of sudden ill ness. At nightfall Gerald arrived. She throw herself into his arms iu a burst of nerv ous weeping; but when he wbndenngly asked its cause, her courage failed her. Why was it that she never imagined that he might look stern until to-day ? A week passed, when one evening, sitting in the twilight, a step sounded close beside. She looked up to dis cover the Count. “Pardon !” he.began, in answer to hei indignant, questioning look. "Why must you be so cruel ? May I not now see yon ?” "Sir, I command you to leave me. I am under the protection of my own roof.” He was about to answer, when a latch key was heard inserted in the outside door. In an instant he had.,sprang into some place of concealment, but the fact that he was near lent to the young wife a sudden courage, born of the moment’s desperation. Her hnsoand, entering, ap proached her, but she motioned him back. _ "Gerald," she said, "I have a bitter confession to make. It is fitting you should hear it now.” He listened, with arms folded across hfe breast, while she told him all the story of that fated night. "And is this all?” he questioned bit terly, when she had paused. . "No, not all,” she continued, rais ing her voice. "My confession has another witness, who has forced his hated presence again upon me. The Count Belzoni is here again, Gerald.” As she spoke she drew aside the cur tain; bat the form she expected to dis- close was gone, , jhe open window attest ing to its flight. Silently the husbeOd drew a paper from hie pocket, end showed her e para graph offering a reward for the arrest of a thief and swindler known as the Count Belzoni "My darling,” he said, "my little wife hee learned a leeeoa eke will never for- fft- 1 have known thfa story all the time, but have waited until you same to tell it to me. I returned the night of the ball, to take yon with me, when I found yon had gone Imagine what 1 suffered, and my added suffering when, arriving at the scene of enjoyment, where I had followed you,. I discovered who was your companion^ I stood near you, and heard the words he addressed to yon—heard with joyful heart your answer; saw you wrench your bauds from his hold, and also saw what you did not, the sparkle of the ring he drew from your finger. Poor little girl 1 l‘ watched you hasten through the crowd, and knew that you had already met your bitterest punishment. It has been through my efforts that the • Count has been traced and exposed. Only this mom - ng I recovered your ring from the man with whom he had pledged it as secur ity. Once more I place it on your fin ger. But remember, darlAg, it is only the outward ebarm. A wife’s true talis man is her husband’s honor. THE PLEURO-IWEUMOMA BILL A Trxaa Srnntor Artnrita the Depurtinritt ol Am rim 11 lire* When the U. 8. Senate l>egan the con sideration of the bill to establish a Bureau of Annual Industry, to prevent the exportation of deceased cattle, and ]>rovide for the extirpation of pleuro- ueumonia and other contagious diseases among domestic animals, the House hill was sul>stituted for the Senate bill. Mr. Plumb said that the cattle interests of the country were unauimsusly in favor of tlie legislation proposed by tft bill. Mr. McPherson stated that the alarm ing reports spread throughout the country and Europe some months ago hail been discovered to be unfounded, and those reports had come principally from such people as the bill under con sideration provided should be appointed as inspectors of meats for export. Mr. Coke severely criticised the De partment of Agriculture for spreading false reports of the nature of the disease among American cattle. This bill had already been twice kicked out of the Senate, and should be kicked out again. The States separately were quite effi cient to deal with their own cattle, and should not lie interfered with. If the Agricultural Department would stop libelling the cattle of the United States no more trouble would lie found with the cattle business. Mr. Williams regretted that the Sen ator from Texas, Mr. Coke, had been carried so far by tbe warmth of his fee ing* in the denunciation of those who desired the passage of the bill. Mr. Williams said he was himself ft stock raiser, and he knew that nineteen- twentieths of all tho stock raisers of the country favored this measure, %, ‘and,” ejaculated Mr. Williams, "to say there is no pleuro-puenmoma in this country —My God !’’ It was, he TOdd, in New Jersey, New York, Pennsylvania, Mary land and the District of Columbia. Mr. Williams himself had seen it. Mr. McPherson said he had not been able to find any In New Jersey. Mr. Williams acknowledged the emi- neuce of "Dr.” McPherson ae an author ity on constitutional law and matters affecting the Navy, but he did hot think that that gentlemen ^oould recognize plucro-pneumonia if He saw it Fhe Pike County Trout Ed. Mott, the Pike county historian, tells of a monster brook tront that hat tantalized the sportsmen of that section ten years. It baa been seen time m. h again] , loi- and time again. 1 . "Crack fly-casters,” says Mott, "have come from New York and Philadelphia every season to try their skill on him. Sometimes as many ns half a doeeu have gathered at the pool at one time. They fished singly, in pairs, by threes, and by sixes. They fished at daylight, at nightfall, by moon light Sunny days, rainy days, chilly days, were tried. They fished with the wind in the north, when no angler ven tures forth. They fished with the wind in the west, when the trout will bite the best The fished with the wind in the east, when the trout will bite the least They fished with the wind in the south, which blows the bait in tjjie fish’s mouth. But the mammoth denizen of the pool trimmed his sail to no wind, and re mained safely in port One time a team ster, who had taken a day off to go trout fishing, came running hatless to the Falls. He was as pale as ’a sheet He carried a piece of his chestnut pole in each hand. He bad half of his horse hair line left "’l hooked the big trout P he yelled. •I was baited with a pickerTs belly fin. . I played him till he brbke my pole an’ my lino, An' Sere they be !’ "People rather believed the teamster, and he was quite the lion of the back- woods. He was promoted to be sawyer. But a few days later Doc Jaggers trapped a mink eu the creek that had a hook iu its jaw and four feet of horsehair line hanging to it Then that teamster lost caste. He was discharged from the mill His old place aa mule driver waa re fused him. He went sway, and ia be lieved by hi* former comrade* io~ be a homeless wanderer on the face of the earth.” } ‘‘Doctor, do yon think smoking k hurtful ?” "Why, of course. Look al the abuaneya. They make a bosteaas of the thing; and yet it's tboaa the* •moke the least thirt do the bat”— DnteA Wit . ( Th« Wonderful Powers of Radurmueo ou (he Part of u KnooUn Prloourr -3UV Blows, and thru the MiarsorSltcH*.' Mazof had murdered a man, a woman wd a little boy. Before the magistrate he had made a full confession of his guilt. A determined attempt wm made by the soldiers to mob him while he was making his confession, but it was re pressed. He was reserved for a much more terrible punishment than that ac corded by lynch law. He was sentenced to three hundred and ninety-nine lashes with the knout He was marched out to punishment in company with two forgers, all St Petersburg turning out to witness the spectacle. This horrible show is thus graphically described by the old chroni cle: __ ‘ ‘The stake prepared for him was a stremg block of wood fixed in the ground with three grooves at the top and two rings near the bottom; the middle groove was for the nook, and the two others for the armpits, the rings below to lock ronnd-thr ?nklcs; about the stake were bid coarse skins, especially where the knout-master trod, upon wh«ch lay his whips, marking irons, pincers, etc. An officer then read a paper to the people, signifying tliat forgery npou the Im- ])erial Bank being a capital crime, two of the prisoners convicted of it were condemned to. .receive eleven blows with the knout, to have their nostrils pulled out and be banished for life to Silwria; the murderer of so many people to re ceive three hundred and ninety-nine blows, to lie branded three times in tho face, have his nostrils pulled out, and, if then alive, to be banished for life to the mines of Siberia. "The executioner and his assistants then stripped him, tied his hands across and led him to the post. After fixing his ankles they bent bis neck and arms over it, and drew the rope with which his hands were tied through the ring ou the opposite side, which seemed to stretch all the muscles of the back. He then retired about four or five yards from him, and, taking up one of the knouts, worked it with his hands to give it a proper elasticity. Walking toward he criminal with four or five steady step, then taking a spring, he struck a perpendicular stroke with a heavy, loud jrack. The first stroke cut from the right side of the bottom of the neck to the left armpit. The eflect was visible in a moment, and by tho violence of his screams afforded reason to suppose that the pain was very great. The second was about half an inch below the first and so on till twenty-five, when, changing the whip, the operator erased the former wound, striking from the left side to the right, and afterward quite perpendicular. • The strokes were given with the greatest regularity. Be tween each a person might deliberately count eight, the executioner always walking slowly to and from the stake. "His cries were now so terrible that some of the spectators were obliged to turn their backs and pat their fingers in their ears. All was quiet and silent, and the crack of the knout was heard a great distance. After receiving three hundred lashes, the culprit’s voice grew faint, and during the last one hundred he showed no signs of life whatever, the whole of the upper part of the hack by ing l>eaten to a black mummy. After the last blow the assistants lifted up the face by the hair, and the executioner struck him three times with an instru ment that left the initial of murderer, throwing each time a handful of black dust into the wonnd; after which, at tw» pulls, he tore the gristle of his nose, and loosened him from the block. Tha whole lasted about three quarters of an hour, and it was generally thought that tic had lieen dead some time; however, he made a feeble attempt to put on his coat, aud recovered sufficiently to ba able to make some reparation to society by working the iron mines.” v ■ - ... . _ . Oulj 1c Think. A good story is told v oI the la!o An thony Trollop, Norman Macleod, and John Burns, one of the Cnnard Com pany. They were intimate friends, ami made a tour in. the Highlands together. Arriving at an inn lute at night, they bad supper, and after their repast told stories and laughed, as Trollop used to do over here, regardless ol other visitors, half the night through. In the morning an old gentleman who occupied a bed room just sb6ve them complsined to the landlord that he had been so disturlied by the noise from the {forty below that he had been unable to sleep, and he greatly regretted that such men should take more than wss good for’them. "‘Well,’ replied the landlord, ‘I am bonnd to say there was a good deal of loud talking and laughing, but they had nothing; itronger tttAtttea *nd herring^' 'Bless me,' rejoined tbe old gentleman, 'if that ia so, what would Dr. Macleod and Mr. Burns be after dinner V ” "I wart A Chaucer, ” said A eoatooier to a New York clerk hi a book store, after toofcfaff over tho bat oi Maglish phigr inquired poohk "Has oat Hugo Schenok and Karl Schloaaarek, who murdered twenty servant girls, were hanged at Vienna.. An altar -had been fitted up in the prison, and a mass was said, after which both the oulprita par took of the sacrament and prayed earnest ly and fervently. On the way from their cells to the place of execution the. con demned men aaAwered the responses to the office for the dead which the priests, who accompanied them to the spot, un der the posts where the fatal nooses were adjusted, wefe reciting. The word was given, and the prisoners were drawn up and slowly strangled to death. Karl Sehenck, a brother of Hugo, who was also implicated to a certain extent with Hugo and Schloaaarek, has been sentenced to life imprisonment. The Sohenoka were the sons of a judge in Silesia, who educated them well They associated themselves with Bohioa- sarek, a confirmed criminal, and with other bad characters. It is not uncom mon in Vienna for servants who have saved money to advertise for husbands, Hugo Sohenck, a married man, living apart from his wife, used to answer such advertisements, sometimes under pre- teflct of being an engineer in reoriptof a good salary, and oeoasianAlIj as a wealthy aristocrat with a contempt for class prej udices. He would meet the girls by appointment, and, after paying court to them, induce them to draw their money out of the bank and accompany him on a journey to get married. They would go to some retired spot where Schenok had arranged that his accomplices should be in readiness, and together they would strangle or shoot the girl, secure her property, conceal her body and return quickly to town to plan fresh murders. The llomtnfean Monastery. The new Dominican monastery in New ark, N. J., has been virited by thousands and inspected with a curious interest The monastery is a gloomy square, plain Gothic structure of rough brown stone. It has no ornamentation whatever, and is said by the architect to l>e a copy of monasteries of the ssme order in the Old World. Its weird aspect, the fact that it is the only house of the order in America, aud the austere life which the nuns have already begun to lead there caused many people to await im|)et:euUj tbe opening of the monastery for public inspection. The cells of the monastery contain only a bed, a chair and a table, with a brown atone pitcher and a basin. They are each 8x10 feet, and have for beds wooden tables, covered with a tick con taining little a straw. The Prioress of the house was formerly known as Miss Julia Crooks. Night and day two nuns kneel constantly before tbe Host They all rise at midnight and pray for two hours. They then return to bed and sleep until 5:30 o'clock, when they rise and engage in prayer in their cells. At 6 o’clock they go to the ohapel for private prayer and to assist in the mass. At 8 o’clock s lit tle coffee and bread are partaken of, and from 8:30 to 10:30 the nuns work in the community room. Devotions follow till 11 o’clock, when a plain dinner ia eaten. Meat is never eaten. From dinner the nuns go to the cloister or garden for rec reation. Exoept at this time there is no conversation in the house, save such talk in undertones as may be absolutely necessary. There are now in the monastery fifteen full nuas, who wear a white habit and a black veil; six lay sisters, who wear white habits and veils and black aprons, and ten postulants, who dress in black. The Girl He Left Behind Him. The Oglethorpe (Ga.) EcAo says :—I beard a gentleman who waa a member of Gen. Henry L. Benning's brigade tell the following: "One night during the war, while Benning's brigade was en camped in the Wilderness near Ohan- oellorsville, the Second Georgia band, which, by the way, was one of the best bands of musia in the whole army—if we are to lielieve those who listened to the sweet strains—went out to serenade their old General. The band played a great many fine pieces in their moat accom plished style and then prepared to re turn to their bivouac, when Gen. Bee tling walked out of bis tent in a very calm and dignified manner and exclaimed earnestly, 'Good 1 good! good I Now, boys, play "The Girl 1 Left Behind Me.” That whioh made such an impression npou the soldiers who were witnemfog the scene was that such an old, stern, warlike nuu| ae be wm At that time should be thinking of the girl he left be hind him. He and the girl he left behind him are now numbered with tbe dead. RereiM Receipts. While a group of spcotatocs amining the famous ooUie r Tweed IL, at the New York Dog Show, Mr. V. a Phebus, of Newmarket, Md., who has grown up with shepherd enthusiestie in expatiating on the trait* of these animals, "If you oooe gain the Affection of a collie,” he udd, "you auy starve or shorn it, but he will never desert yon. Be willdfoat yonr feet or on yonr grave, if you die first. Their fartslMgeuee, when intrusted with the ears of Aesp, ie be yond belief, exeeptto thorn who with them. This deg hee taken a of seventy-five sheep from yard at Baltimore, to a farm miles away, without losing erne of His endurance equals Me sagacity. He wil| cross a road sixty-five feet wide twice a minute, and traval ell day with out rafting. With a wave of the hand he will fly from the rear to the tront of the flock. At another signal he will divide a flock into two, and if I hold my hand up thus, five fingers extended, he will separate that number oat of the flock. He will take a took of eighteen aud divida them into three groups of six each at a word, and never topeh one with hie teeth. He oooe took seventy through the streets of BaMtaora, a dis tance of four miles, without losing He will also separate chick ana bogs, and hens frogUtaMtaPfo *1 mand.” , WITH A GENTLE HARD. Ths Os* Ton* W Ratar* That Makes tka What* WsrM Ala. : i_ The collections of internal revenua daring the first nine months of the fis cal year ending June SO, 1864, were as follows: From spirits, $55,497,898, an increase of $2,102,440 ---y-ic- - — gw. of tne previous yam; from tobacco, $18,854,535, a decrease of $13,755,393; from fermented Uqaora, $12,058,859, an increase of $895,773; from banks and baohMS, $2,392, a de crease of $3,741,534; from miscellaneous sources $440,904, a decrease of $6,006,- 539. The aggregate reeeipta ware $37,- 454,064. whioh ia $30,505,258 lom tha oottootioM for tha eorreapoi period of theymvtawi AmI jwk. They were moving; not the ordinary and regular routine of May 1, when dis tressed families flock from cue cramped and inconvenient dwelling into another of the seme type, but this was a going "Out of U>* old bows Into ths are.* 1 And the mother’s face wm serious, lor there was one of the little flock not lost, but gone before into the home, in the city whose walla lie four square. Thus it happened that one little room was left to the lost and ae a rough work man laid his hand on the door and poshed it open, the mother cried oat m if he bed struck her a blow: "Ob, not there 1 Not there ! I will move those thing* myself. Yon cannot touch them I” , , "That wee baby Grace’s room and she died in that little bed,” said one of the older children. The rough workman stayed hie foot ou the threshold. Then be touched hie hat, and bis tone wm bosky as he said: "If ye please, ma’am, I’ll handle them things gently. I’ve a little one of my own in glory—the hmvsne be her bed— and it's myself will see them not a bit damaged, and 111 settle it beyond with yon.” ___ It waa the "one touch of nature” u»** "makes the whole word kin.”—Detroit Free Prtat. Lady Slradbroke Runbbod. London Truth says: It ia quite a mis take to suppose that "the lady of title” who is morally responsible for the Lon don World libel lias gone entirely nn- puniahed. Tbe Queen was exceedingly sngry with her; sod she received an nu- mistekaUe hint that she would do well not to attend tire drawing room, and Her Majesty also crossed her ladyship’s name out of the State ball and concert invitation lists. Indeed the name would have been permanently struck off the Buckingham Palaoe list but for tbe Queen’s consideration for her ladyship’s blameless husband, who ha* suffered as mnch mortification from the as did the Due dlvry after hie eponse’s indis cretion at that Con grew of Baden of which we read in "The Newoomea.” "My lady” has also received the odd shoulder from Marlborough Honae, so that altogether her position has been by no means so satisfactory as most people suppose, His SpIrttaDunpenet Tbe train baited for a few minutes at the station and a young man who had been entertaining two fair msidtns with hie cultivated conversation daring tho last run rushed out and dtaappaarad bo- hind the door of an adjoean* saloon. Ho swung' himself on tire - oar jnet as tho train started and pantingty renamed hia seat and the abruptly interrupted chit chat, "Gradoas P exclaimed one of the girls. "How frightened yon look P "Do IP he gasped. "I don’t feel so I only went out to see a Mend.” "You mast have mol a wicked ghost,” she said. With a puzzled look bo murmured: "Why, that’s absurd. Yon know 1 don’t believe in the aupemataxaL” "Perhaps not,” she retorted, with the faintest suggestion of a Miser, "bn*yonr breath is awfully suggestive of bad spirits.” Thu youth Daring the i teM* feO asleep. "Now's your chanla,” said the o*pti> let to the soprano. "See if yon canticle "Yoa wouldn’t dare dost, contralto. V "You’ll wake hymn up, "I could make a better pun as sure as my name’s Psalm P tire boy who pumped tire organ; arid it solo that no one quartet,—Xf/ia VERT PECULIAR. A wss the owner of a n timber of b b h, That war* laf eeted by a eorieos 4 e v Which oould not be rmaedlMl with e S It Except by giving them fneh g g g, Tbe f x of whfch h time he triee WonM hUtiMMn* HMa i i i| 8o they vAMniplm* by tae J J J, And ■wallowed st once in every k k k, This waetesviMlthebbbtos p qm 1 er fate Bo he thought he woold with than HI (great) To Bwimluxl, or n n n of the earth if h» ptanfo Tor his life's support beoootothabbht tie mast dc thi»—these is no tqqq, Ha bed no p p p—but r r*s prrihSA He bed aa x ■ of gold and of b b b He wished to exehange for eofeas and 11 h n i r i liinTiT imTi cmnuiRtcffn i ■ m He eoold make the trip of w w w. Ay y y thonght it rock him—he took a nottiU And with hi* b b b he croseed aa eseaa. Where there are no) j ] to nmOow bfobbfav Aad be bays allthecoffees and ttthese* -ft. Louie tfUa BOW IT WOMB. How is Uncle Jon get ting along? I bop* he is making a tir ing, for 1 don’t want him Q«—fog on ta we fat hie old age.” Mr. Gamp—"That remtedi me; I jas* heard ths strangest thing. Old Brown recently returned from a visit to UacMn ‘ Jot and says ( that instead of being poet \ he ie very rich and is 1 gant. He got into i made loeds of money.” "Goodness gimofonst Who have thought it? Extravagant, toot Mff will squander all hia money. Don't think Utcle Joe always wm a MH* qtiaav?” "Why, to he waa I never 1 it Poor Unde Joa” "Yea; com* to think, Mai ways been a little Aaky. Imai will kill somebody next.” J "Bo he might I will am 1 at (me* about getting him into n asylum. ’'—Philo. Quit Too Yocnti.—A i who ban just been toed promise of: dinery defence that the eeived him by telling thirty-nino- yuan old. LRARVmO WISDOM. A Peasant who had 1 wearing out sole leather for] the Oeve of a Wise Old sought his Advice as how to fartogtoem BP-" "Many them off and you can then tag and go Boarding i After a lew tomacf to the dare, Wise Man cried oat: "Ah, you must foObw my Advfoe to learn WiedonP "The Troubty ie tto*i«fr«ritowH but instead of having seven ptoap to board around at I have seven 0oipfe-)ew to board ou me.” *..^v , i' : „ T MORALS However, the] —DeroU Free Frees. ■ T ROT A WEAK WOCC^M. , r ; "You’re r nice man, ain’t yon? The idea of m Mg a man as you bring brought hare for whipping yonr wilt es •mall flriiosto a women an ahe it Ain’t you ashamed of jonmeifr ‘ "Well, Judge, I em ashamed of myerit BheVa ] apparently weak’ I am ashamed of myself, far I ought to be able to Bek bar. She jiet laid met she can lick yon town. Bhe’s about belt art iadH half Hghtnta'.- Hia Honor surveyed the tittie got frightened end toM them both to fBc honre.—Aenfucdy Journal. 1 a hatubal a ( in Pullman ear)-"7toe, rir I fare?” Conductor—"Yea, rir. Havant yon a ticket?" Passenger "No; I had ad* Mptite get one; but I just paid my ftoni” Conductor—‘ ‘Paid yonr fan t IfWIy, who tor Ftama^pr—"That gentlameti ” ) Ooodnctor—"He is onty the ] He probably regarded him aa e Isa He hm