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IpbjT". ." -' . I \ ^-^v .-. " WINNSBORO,S. C., WEDNESDAYITEBMAItr 11, 1885. " ;.. ^ ^-5 " ... -r~Sl. ^.il' 1'.' .-.... ? , , - , > God's Channel. Like the channel of a mighty river, (God made the heart of man, a glorious source ""V:..!: Through which he means his bounties to deliver; "Wealth, love or learning to speed on their course . To all this suffering -world. He who retains . The riches of his purse, or soul, or brains. For his own use, defies God's grand endeavor. And chokes with weeds of pride and selfishness, f And rank, vile growths, the bedway of that river. Whose stagnant waters?meant to heal and bless? !R*row poisonous in their turbid overflow. And breed disease, and countless crimes and woe. ? Is t.hv life crowncd bv knowledge and affeo tion? Hast thou been prospered in a worldly -tray? In thy heart's x&aanei gaze with close inspection? See if foul -weeds fill up its course to-day. Or do its whQlesome waters run forth free, So men may drink and share thy joy with A thee? ?Ella Whoeler Wilcox in the Utica Observer. - ? I?? SINNING FOR LOVE. Over hill, and dale, and soft green meadows, fell the golden haze of a summer afternoon. A.dreary silence filled the air, unbroken save by the hnm of the bees and twitter of the birds in the trees. Under the branches of a drooping tree a girl was standing, a girl fair and young, more than passing fair. Only, at this moment the beauty or ner iace. was marred by the expression of bitter hate that darkened it, while her eyes rested on a slight eminence that rose a few steps away. She was in the shadow, and on the. hcl another lady and a gentleman were standing. The girl, Cleta Man vers, watched the lovers, for such Hester Leigh and Guy j Singleton most certainly were, her eyes glowing, her breath coming quick, her short, little hands clenched coirvul^ sively. "She will never be his wife!" she cried passionately; "before that I would take her* life with my own hands." Suddenly, almost at her side, there broke forth, low, clear, and sweet, and full of an almost agonizing pathos, a girl's voice in the ballad: "Do not trust him. trentie lady. Though his voice be low and sweet; Heed not him who kneels before thee, Gently.pleading: at thy feet." r A swift change passed over Cleta 1 Manvers's face, and she turned in the f direction,of the sound and came face ' to face \yith the singer, a gipsy girl of perhaps, eighteen, a girl with a rich, aark ^ovetiness, but whose face was pallyd, and whose great dark eyes were fugfof pain and despair, as well as ^Jpadness.. ~ ^ Cleta laid her hand on the girl's shoulder. * j "Have you seen him yet," sh6 said; j "have you s\?en liuy suable ton."" The girl's eyes grew wild. "I -will never find him, never, never! f I have wandered far and near, but I see him not. He is gene, gone for ever; but I must find him;1' and then she turned in the direction she had come, and flea down the pathway. Cleta looked after her. "Is love woman's curse?" she said. "Has it been yours as well, fair Cleta?" and a pair of dark, Hashing M^eyes were looking-in ta hero.- -suid?s__ mocking face smiled at the ter^ ror that actually whitened her lips. A low cry left her lips. "Vernon Singleton alive P'1 she gasped. L "Alive and well, and as angelic as ever," he answered. ^ "As tienctisij," sue saia; men suaaenK ly: "I thought yon dead, and yon are "And gloried in the thought, no: doubt: and here I am, my beloved J wife." Her eyes flashed. "Do not dare to repeat thai," she said. "I am not your wife. There was nothing in that ceremony that bound a child to you?a child, mad wish passion and pain." "Yet woman enough for that pain to ome from love, and -unrequited love, as it is still, I see;" and his eyes rested on the eminence where Hester and Gay etill stood, unconscious of the- watch "I ain afraid he is lost to you for certain, now?even if I did exist no longer. I think yon may give tip, rov dear." Then changing his manner: "Listen, Clefca," he said; "I will never claim you if you help me in this plot." "What is it?" Yernon talked low and earnestly for a while, and Cleta listened silently. ' "Meet me here to-night," he said in conclusion, "and we will settle the bestway to manage it" _ Q.'he next instant she was alone again , ?a new tempest of rage in her bosom. "The fool!" she said; "does he think ' I would trust him? He has signed his own death-warrant." She met him that night, and listened while h% further explained his plan. The moon shone pale and high, but as he turned to leave her it passed Ko/iinr? ? nf olnn(?s. and then Then a pistol gleamed in Cleta's white hand, a shot rang out on the night air, and the man fell forward BEBfatead?shot through the heart. H|^P?S?he woman bent over him. Yes, he ^ was dead. Down below, the river ran deep and dark, and without a moment's hesitation, with almost superhuman exertion for her, she dragged him towards it. It was terrible work, but she never paused, though her faee grew pallid, her eyes wild with fear. One last effort?a terrible ominous thud. " The body had sunk below the water. 4>1 4. U cue wcuu uuuic ivuu cuvcicu. ? sue had left, unobserved, and threw herself on the couch, notio sleep, but to think of her crime and wonder was she safe. She was aroused, however, in a few w hours, for she had fallen at length into ^ a deep doze, by the'eries of Hester. "Come quickly," Hester cried; "uncle Wr is dying. Be quick, Cleta." J Cleta leaped to her feet, her heart beating. Only an old man dying. Ah, I heaven, what had she feared? Even to | a her soul she feared to whisper that. ||| Yes, their uncle, or . more properly Bp speaking, their grand-uncle, was dying, BT nay, almost dead, the kind old man who had brought them up from childft hood. uWT>oro is >c CrrrP" tlrjA n Lng man said. V In a few minutes liis adopted son Bwt stood at the bedside. ||fe The old man who had been more Bkhan a father to him, and was a disEnt relation, for the true name as well l|k name by adoption of Guy was SinHe ton, was almost past speaking, but iggpointed to the girls. Either of them, Guy, for you?you ?aid no more?his soul had passed ^Lys later they laid him to rest rare, and 'then, in dim old library, the will was read. He gave and bequeathed all ho possessed to his adopted son, Guy Singleton, on condition he wed Cleta Manvers, or Hester Leigh, within the year. To his other grand-niece, the one whom Guy did not marry, he left ten thousand pounds, to be paid out of the estate on Guy's wedding-day. If Cleta Manvers was a beauty, so was Hester, of a different type, a different and a nobler. , * -1 Cleta was fair as a lily, with golden hair and eyes of cerulean blue, while Hester's*eyes were deep, soft brown, her hair chnstnut, thick and wavy. Cleta's face was rose-tinted and dimpled, while a flush seldom stained the fair, pure pallor of Hester's delicate &ce j With all the passion of his heart, Gny loved .nesier- ?mi. pua-suuicu darling, he called her?and any one might know, when the will was read, that she would be the chosen mistress of the stately home where the girls had spent their lives. V v u ; Up and down her own room Cleta walked- . He loved Hester, and the girl she hated would have love, -wealth, position, while she would have ten thousand pounds. "I would dye my hands red again," she_.cried, "before Hester should reign t here triumphant. After all, my crime m&ht as -well not .have been; yet I couldnot have trusted him. Had he lived, I cannot tell what trick he would " have played mo.. . "I was to destroy the will, and then as nearcst-of-kin he wonld inherit all, and to me he would give one-third. "? ^4.1.^ Jtsut tneiooi, to never uream luc utuw plot in my mind, which his coming would thwart?a plot that will at least part Hester and Gov, and then perhaps I will win him. It is my last hope." Whatever her plot," she played it well, for when, three or four months . before the expiration of the year, Guy asked Hester to be "Tiis wife, she simply answered him, "No." She gave no explanation, only turned coldly away, but had he seen her in the seclusion of her own room, ho would have known, no matter what had caused her refusal, that she loved him. * "' . "My love, my love!" she cried; "though all unw'orthy, I cannot tear you from my heart." Ah, what weeks would have been saved?at least, what weeks of agony, had Guy known the truth, had he known ? ? i-t v 01 a gipsy xnoiiier >vuu uwasuu. uiu; w wrcclcing her child's life, had cursed him with a mother's curse, for the gipsy girl who-had stood under the"_ tree, "then fed at Cleta's words, lay in her grave, and her last words to fier mother had been the name of her lover, Guy .Singleton. "My corse around him and around the woman he weds," she cried in her frenzy. Was it any wonder, then, that when Guy Singleton asked Hester to be his wife, white and trembling she refused, turning coldly away from his pleading. It was then that Cleta played her cards well, for Guv found a sympathizer in her, an5," man-like, Guy found sweetness in it?at least, a balm JLUI IILV LIUJLU lUi l?UV UiVn iawwvi given him. ?Then it dawned upon Jiim_.th.at_Jhis girl. with,her eyes of blue and liair oi gold, loved him with a passion he had never dreamed of. * . What man is not flattaced by a woman's love, particularly if she is young and beautiful?and this girl was both.With soft, sweet smiles she won him. Not that his heart yielded to her spell, but his senses, dazzled by her smiles and sympathy united, put his better judgment to flight, though his heart was, and always would be, Hester's. One of the girls he must wed, or leave them both penniless. Ah, had he dreamed of Hester's pain and hopelessness of heart he might have less quickly fled for consolation to another. -A tew months later?almost at the expiration of the year?Guy Singleton made Cleta his wife. Crime and sin I 1?J ~ ?. > ii&U. UUU^UCICU. ! She was mistress of her uncle's wealth I and, wife of the man she adored. I She knew her husband did not love ! her, but she had triumphed. In time he would learn to love her. She must win his love. Yes, she had triumphed; but did the memory of the man she had sent before his Judge cease to haunt her morning, noon, or night? ...r , r, Hester bore her pain in silence. If . gentle, she was far from weak, and ; though her. face grew paler, her eyes more dreamy, none dreamed of the weary days and wakefuL nights that were hers. She had loved Guy with jail the strength of her heart, but he had proved unworthy. Did the knowledge?had the knowlor?rro lir>r lnVf?3 "MVl .1 thousand -W . " ? times no! Love lived, though it lay bleeding. Ah, how well she loved him she never knew till he was the husband of another! -:Eer life stretched bare and hopeless before her, death would have been welcome, or at least she believed it would have been, in the first great desolation ofhersouL . ( Bnt then in Cleta's triumph?in the very height of it, the bolt of God'3 vengeance fell,- when the end of all things came. One day while out riding, a man leaped from a grove near where she was passing. A wild cry left her lips. Dead or alive, Vernon Singleton stood before her. Heavenly father, what difference did it make? Dead!" had he come to haunt her?living, to drag her from her high estate? A mocking laugh broke from the man s lips as he caugnt the reins, and then?then the horse reared, swerved, rose on its hind legs, and Cleta lay white and senseless on the ground. Without a-look of pity, Vernon grlanced down on the marble face, and the pallid lips now flecked with blood, then turned and left her there till others found her. * " ' ' ' ' rr"? ^ i? ? i i. ii.? J ? ? ?uey earriea xier uomc, uut uut tor's verdict ended all hope. She must die. Ah, what change comes to our spirit at the hour of death. Then, indeed, the eyes see clearly, and a terrible forei knowledge that fills the soul with awe comes to us. Knowing that it was her death-bed, knowing taat all she had sinned for was going from her now, she sent for Hester and Guy, and told them all. The story of her marriage to Yernon, whom his uncle had disinherited shortly after for his wild career. How, when all believed him dead, he returned: and then the story of her crime?her crime that had failed, for I consciousness had come back to Verj aon when he struck the water, and the wound was scarcely even dangerous, rhen she turned to*Hester. "Hester, 1 led that gipsy woman to believe that Guy was the lover who wrecked her daughter's life, but it was Vernon." Her breath came short and labored, and a gray shadow fell over her face. ' Guy?Guy?I?I Ah, God have mercy!" The next instant she was pleading before His throne. One year later Hester and Guy were married, but they never speak Cleta's name, which, if not forgotten, is not willingly remembered, save by Hester, whose gentle heart cannot think but with pity of the beautiful, sin-stained woman who lies in her grave. Yernon Singleton never came near them, but he sent a messenger for some ' money, which Guy gave, and then he passed from their lives for ever; and then the past was forgotten by Hester and Guy?the past darkness that had ended in a happy present, and a future full of hope. Webster and His Wife. Mrs. "Webster, whose maiden name . was Caroline LeRoy, belonged to one of the old New York families, and was in many respects a remark&blo woman, although like the wives of many men of great attainm nts she was never noted for any literary talents. She \yas tall and fine looking, very e.cct in figure and had a complexion which a Philadelphia bulle might be proud of. Sho was very particular about her dress and disliked anything not in the prevailing style, not wishing to adhere to by-gone fashions, as so many old ladies do, though her inherent good taste was always seen in a desire to have suitable toilets for every occasion. When she told her numerous and imple experiences of life, we always were interested in listening to the thirds that pleased her most?how Mr. Webster used to call'her the "Lady Caroline," of their evening walk's, and, indeed, many of her reminiscences were verv entertaining, wore they less frequently or more coherently carried OUt. L.i:. ~ i ^ - - Mrs. Webster always read the newspapers, and though it is doubtful if she ever fully realized that she was almost alone in her generation, somo names took her back over a lapse of years^and she recalled persons vividly. At the time Caleb Cushing was appointed Minister to Spain she remarked: ."He was a very agreeable man; I knew him well." She also said: "I wonder why he never married?" The old lady was always a great advocate of matrimony. We once asked her what she thought of Henry Clay. ''Oh," she replied, "Mr. Clay was the thinnest man I ever saw. He was ! a great man and a magnificent speaker ?not equal to my husband, of.course." One day in reading Sir H. Holland's letters we saw an account of a dinner given to Daniel Webster and his wife when in England. We mentioned this to Mrs. Webster, and she was very anxious to see the book. A chord in her memory was touched, and long dormant memories seemed to awake. She related various little incidents of her travels abroad, but, though they were then so feted and made much of, there was no assumption of dignity on her part; she merely took the attention paid her as her due, being the wife of a great man, the Secretary of a great Nation. She mentioned driving out in a barouche with the Queen and driving with her merely as she would had she done the same with an acquaintance in Iter ovvju. rank of Kfc. Sh? ?milin?rlv - . - i J saiu: "^ueen victoria is a very piamlooking person, but an excellent woman and very sensible. I have seldom met an American lady at a dinner party dressed as plainly and with as little taste.*' The Hon. Alexander Stephens once said of Daniel Webster: "I think Webster was the worst slandered man I ever knew. It is the general impression in the country to-day that Webster was a gTeat drunkard. You hear it spoken of even now whenever his name is mentioned, but it" is an outrageous slander. I will tell you what I know myself. For six years while ve were both in Confress I lived next door to him. His ouse was as familiar to me as my own garden. I was in tnese a great aeai and he was as often in mine, and in all the time of my acquaintance with him I never saw Webster when he was in the least affected by liquor or under the influence of it in any way. I have dined with him at his house and mine. I have met him at dinners and affairs outside and' I never saw him in the least inebriated. I never heard of his being intoxicated but twice, and on one . of these occasions?a dinner?he made a speech that was grandly eloquent." ?Philadelphia Times. . s ' A Wonder Machine Gun. A Philadelphia inventor,- Hiram S. Maxim, the inventor of the system of electric-lighting bearing his name, has invented a machine gun that fires six hundred shots a minute from a single barrel. The gun with its tripod only weighs 126 pounds, and is arranged in such a way that the force of the recoil tmrvtv. nnn rAlinil of tVlO TTIIimPrt frT*irtC7 LiUi-U, VUV iVuuu w- ?- ?q i is utilized and forms the motive power for loading and firing the next round. The cartridges are."kept in a canvas' belt seven yards long, in a box under the gun; you insert one end of the belt in the gun, start the firing and then : can train the gun as you cnoose while the discharge proceeds mechanically. A new belt can be attached as "the old one becomes emptied. "The barrel is surrounded by a water jacket to prevent it firoiELbecomicg heated.- If the man working the gun should te killed, the gun would go on firing mechanicall v. till the cartridges were exhausted, unless spme faulty cartridge interfered. Certainly a maehine gun which one man can work, and which fires ten shots a second, is something important in. murderous discovery.?London Times. Too Busy to Think of Dogs. Mr. Busyman is looking up and down the street for a lost do?. He is distressed because, he says, his family is so fond of the dog, which has been in the house nearly nine years. Already he 1 4-r\ o-nr? rrrVncflp Vinmp I11U> ci L lUiiiU lA-Vi vv/ JLV.4M. MUVL a hairless Mexican dog, a big black Newfoundland, a red Irish setter, and a.black-and-tan. ... "What kind of a dog was it?" asks a g^liceman who hat been watching Mr. usyman and is growing suspicious of him. . Mr. Busyman is startled. "I declare/' he says, "I don't know. I never saw the dog in my life, you know; often heard my wife and the children speak about him, but forgot what they called him. I'll go home and get a description." A busy man of many caies is not the kind of a man to seek for a lost dog.? Burlington Haivkeyc. 'n' " *? L A-~ - B f rtfft xne interests 01 me u?ma aic ooic. This years crop of peanuts is 1,000,000 bushels larger than that' of last year, and actors. all over the couu:ry ars bound to have large and pleased audiences.?Atlanta Constitution. EDGAR AX.LEX POE. His Early Strangle for a Living?W'here and When Ho Penned The Raven.'* Twenty minutes ride from the Grand Central depot, writes a New York correspondent of the Troy Times, brings us to the beautiful and historical Tillage of Fordham, in the Twenty-fourth ward, and turning to the left from the station and passing upward between the moss-covered rocks, stone walls, and great old trees upon the Kingsbridge road, wo soon reach tho last residence of the most famous of American poets, Edgar Allen Foe, around which cluster so many sadly interesting reminiscences of the man who was at once the most distinguished and most unfortunate of our purely-native writers. The place consists of a oneand-a-half-story-house, with a lean-toaddition on one side and abroad veranda on two sides of the main building. All are picturesquely overgrown and ririfti T-IVQO onr? r?rpfvn#?TS- and a number of grand old cherry trees in the yard throw a massive shade upon the veranda. This all stands in the centcr of about two acres of soft and velvety greensward. Near the house is a syringa bush planted by the poet, and on one of the trees in tho orchard are his initials, cut by himself, but whiclt now have lost much ol their shape T)y siongation by the growth of tho tree. Back of the cottage stands tho pine under which Poe was in the habit of reclining for an hour at a timer "dreaming; dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before." . Here, in 1846, Poe moved with his child-wife (she married at 14) and her mother. Buried among the trees with the scent of heliotrope and mignonette and his few pets about him, he devoted himself to the task of earning a living by his pen, and that only?a task ana a hope that has always been a hollow mockery, a delusion, and a snare. . _ In the upper story of this house, under the slanting roof, which is reached by a winding stairway, was his study and bedroom. It is lighted by a lar^e double window and at the oppositesiao is a very ample open tirepiace. vvnac a host of memories are crowded upon you as you enter this sacred, almost ^hallowed chamber. Here, many and manv a time, has he r-. - . ., 'w pondered, weak and weary, , Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore. Here during the last sickness of his . . wife, when the hand of death was fall- , ! ing gently, but surely and unmistak- | ably, in that . ' bieak December, Vainly had he sought to borrow From his books surcease of sorrow?sorrow | for the lost Lenore; ? - . . For that rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore. *-v i_ I Here is the window nfc which came the tapping of the ominous and evil . raven, and through which, when he < opened it, with many a flirt and flutter i stepped the ghastly, grim, uncertain < bird from the night's Plutonian shore; there, over the door, stood the bust of. Pallas, upon which this horrible bird pcrched himself and by his croaking "Nevermore" struck wonder, awe, j anger, and terror in the poet's heart. Here he stood when he pleaded with the gaunt specter: Pi-nnViot " mm T "thine of evil?nroohet still _ lf^bird or devil? Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest , tossed thee here ashore. Desolate, yc-t all undaunted, on the desert - land enchanted? < On this home by horror haunted?tell me truly, I implore, Is there?is there balm In Gilead? Tell me? i -.. tell me, I implore?" * , Quoth the raven: "Nevermore." And here on this spot on the floor is , where the awful shadow of death fell: ' And my soul from out.that shadow that lieg floating on the floor Shall be lifted?nevermore. Virginia Eliza Poe passed away Jan- ' nary 30, 1847, and was buried in the rustic churchyard here at Fordham, on- ' ly 25 years old. A darker shadow than i the raven threw upon the study floor | was upon the soul of Poe, and it was never lifted from it. Poor before, he ; was poorer now, and never a rapid or ( voluminous writer, he became slower and less frequent in his productions but < here, under the shadow of her love, h^..' continued with great difficulty to write, 1 "Ulalume," "Annabel Lee," and a } number of prose pieces. The country lanes and byways in this J section are exceedingly beautiful, and it was Poe's delight to take-long strolls in the early morning. There is a ledge 1 of rocks near ttn cottage, crowned with ' pines and cedars, which command a ' line view of the surrounding country, ; and which he loved* Here he would sit for hours wrapped in thought over the composition of "T .reka," which he-be- < gan after his wife's death. . _. . There was a spirit of unrest and revolt in Poe which refused tq accept 3 whatever had established" itself. Bom f in the lowest walks of life; tho ehild of: 1 strolling players, adopted by Mr. Al- I lan, a wealthy gentlemanof Baltimore, ] he was given a splendid education. Na- 1 ttire had liberally, nay bountifully en- i dowedhim with- magnificent talents, i which under other circumstances would J have made him a happy man, an orna- . J ment to society, and a monument of J honor to his country, but for some < slight freak he was cast ^drift before he 1 was 21, with the education,. instincts, ? auu VA 0 gvUNAVMMuy MM* without the material means of holding 1 the position he should have occupied in society. Thus he became a misan- < thrope and a cynic. 1 With no means at his command to-1 X gain his own,livelihood but his brains : and his pen, he turned to .letters as a i means of sup&ort,'a task of more than l. herculean magnitude, a task in which 1 the world of literature has yet to produce the man who has been successful unaided by ulterior sources. His was a particularly unfavorable time, for we as a nation had not : yet taken a place ? among the literati of the world. Liter- J ature was not fostered as the weakly i plant .hat needed the gontle care and < nurturing of appreciation, approbation, t and financial support necessary to t brin^it to a heal'thv growth. That f most wonderful piece o? work in the * entire range of English-literature, "The I Raven," brought him the munificent '< sum of $15; and a gentle&an who was- J proof-reader on the magazine in which 1 it was first published tells me that the 1 editor brought him the copy and ex- 1 pressed himself as feeling he had paid t too much for it. The Harpers to-day * would willingly give as much per line 1 for such a piece. Poe died .in Baltimore in October, * 1849, in his fortieth year.- The imme- * diate cause of his death is shrouded in c mystery, though it was supposed he * was waylaid in the streets. He was de- i lirious when found by his friends, and 1 continued so until just before his death. 1 A brief, brilliant, bat unhappy life and melancholy death was his, of whom it may be well said, in the words 01 ur. ] Johnson, that the events of his life are 1 variously related, and all that can be < told with certainty is that he was poor, j "The Raven1' will long preserve his ? memory, and with it the memory of the , great artist, Gustave Dore, who spent tne last year ox fus Die in illustrating- it.. EcTgarAlIenPoe haswon the fame be eovgted:, c", . VJ . ,i And ?0 sepulchered lii siich pomp doth lie. That Kings'for such a tomb would wish to die. Ldttlc Edith Goes ta Court. g '-.HZCil? ?- T A mite of a girl with dimpled cheeks f and haar-mJptfet^-lock^ stopped -at the v steps of-the Yorkvilte Court yesterday i morning-and- gave-a-crumprled hit or v paperio'apoKceman standing there, llie policeman Tead:. . ; . ; ? Please j^ect tfais little. girl to York- 8 yille Ec>H<^ iCjopxjt^ lyty.-s'eTenth street,,.. between-^n^irf, jind' -Lexington a??".' ? nnes. .* " , ' T m "Edith Jenith Adams, 8 years old next January, and my house is at 0 488 Lexington avenue;" . ."She said "toC' rs ? * * -.-Wy -i t T.'' -a riouiiQsmaji^nuitroon.-Triia' met ner at v the door. "Mamma's sick- and papa's x a letter carriei^aatLcaa'.t, get here yet, j, so I game alow.?- ? ? - ~ ? ? "Wfcake4ri.vspe:da for you, little girl,'* j( inquired'tiiirwjnndsman. i ~ ; '- 0 "Shoot-s^do^' exclaimed Edith, ex- j, citedly;-'- 3iH? bit me, and my mamma t and papa are 'frald^ril get hy^dro-pho- * a biarif the dog's - - v crowd^ltcoSffcigrfe.emd ;offlcera-whd ^ gathered around tho'-little StLz jj "Here - and?.here?and-^here^-'' said ^ Edith, Doii^ngJto^ scratch at the side of her eye-and tw&'-bumpe oztchej^: ]( head. "I went to Henry E. ,^KohPs ? $ fore 'iTctio^ij^fiEfeyrrsome clothes?"'"" jv pins for-mammaA-greenhom bc^ia, $ the sto5&lia?fc n "What's a greenhorn- boy?*' asked ) 3 the listsoffsr^ oSi r?' . "Oh, dbn^t you know?M said "the liib-t j, tie girl, 5a surprise: 4 'Why, one' 'who-' r" has just landed. Greenhorn boys act, in Jsew jorK just use tnev aia mine sold country. I said to the greenhorn tj boy; 'Ho?r fanny your dog washes his. gj faces.' Bie, dog flew up in the ail. ^ right at me. His top tooth stuck in" ^ my head, and his-- lpwer tooth struck almost in my eye.'/ The blood went all p over the floor. The storekeeper stuck ^ a piece of paper and. mucilage on my Ci head, and gave -;a pear not to teJljny papa. DC Andrews had itofix my 5e$d, and every bit of my hair is [dblling-but p, Will the Judge go now and ?hoot the ct -log?" r ^)r ;: x it "When he comes back this afternoon a. ril tell him about it," said Roundsman C( Muldoon. i J \L I A, .. lj .Edith's father, m posfcm^s uniform, w having just finished nis route, hurried into onrrrf. anH tnnlr his littlrt Hanchtflr up in Ms arms. ? / jj f ^ - "Papa," the child said, "\ou told me ^ this was a place where/ people came to jE find out what to do. They won't tell st me anything here. * They won't even a| ^ive me a sample." r[ aj Evexybody laughcd-jat Edith. Mr. jj Adams said he wouM-tryto get aroxmd 01 on time to-morrow morning, and car- *pj ried his daughter on his shoulder out of ^ ;ourt.?New York Sun. fa * 1 * ci jfa "Our Presidents. g, Mr. Cleveland will be the twentysecond Resident of the country. Of the presidents, seventeen were elected sand four?Tyler, Fillmore, Johnson, and Arthur?succeeded to the office sc from the vice presidency. Thomas Jef- ? ferson and John Quincy - Adams were ,1 elected by the house of representatives : fn default of an election by the elector- 111 al college, and Rutherford B. Hayes n< was declared -elected oy tne commission ~ selected to decide the disputed election 01 of 1876. Seven of the presidents? w Washington, Jefferson, Madison, Mon- sc roe, Jackson, Lincoln and Grant?were a elected a second time. ** Gen. Grant was the youngest of the ro presidents when inaugurated, being 47; P Pierce and Garfield were 49; Polk and f? Fillmore, 50; Tyler, 51; Lincoln, 52; Van Buren and Taylor, 55; Washing- F ton and Johnson, 57; Jefferson, Madi- if son,-And John Quincy Adams, 58; Monroe, 59; John Adams and Jackson, 62; Buchanan, 66; Harrison, 68. Garfield aT lied the youngest, not having reached tis fiftieth birthday; Polk was 54 at his , 1 death; Lincoln, 56; Pierce, 65; Taylor, , ^ 56; Washington and Johnson, 67; Harrison, 68; Tyler and Monroe, 78; Fill- cj more, 73; Buchanan, 77; Jackson, 78; ei Van Buren, 80; ^John Quincy Adams, ai 31; Jefferson, 83; Madison, 85; John , F< &dams, 91. fii The honor of 'furnishing presidents ax hoc nrtt: Kaon ottonlit diafrrihntpr? JimrtrtO" CS the states: Virginia, Massachusetts, sh Tennessee, New York, Ohio, Louisiana, m New Hampshire, Pennsylvania, and th Qlinois furnishing all the incumbents so he far. Cleveland will be the third presi- se lent from New York?Van Buren and ca Arthur being his predecessors. fp It is somewhat remarkable that no nc member of the United States senate should ever have been elected to the president at the time of his incumt>ency. Disregarding the fact that experience in this'body ought to fit a man for the high office, the people have ig- n aored the senators. The army has furaished a large number of presidents, a* md, with the exception of Hancock, * HcClellan, and Scott, .^qiijilitary man ^ lominated for the office has failed of jlection. . Washington .owed his eleva- s? ion to his success m the field; Jack- *h son's record in the war of 1812 was the ro tfave which lifted him into the white louse; and Harrison, Taylor, Pierce, w: arant, Hayes, and Garfield wore the ipaulets of a general before they were lonored with the chief magistracy of ^ 3ie nation. ^ There are now two ex-presidents liv- ^ n^?Grant and Hayes?and after the SP tth of "March Mr. Arthur will make a hird. o? 4 i ? sh A Missing Vowel. ^ re An amusing story is told of the late ilr. Justice Byles." The learned Judge fii vas an excellent shorthand writer, havng early in life graduated as' a report? * 1 A nfJi'Ao r\y\ Ann '!" At tiiu OUiiiUldUli Ai^Oi^O vu vuv vv :asion, as was customary, he read porions of the evidence to the juiy, but JPj loundered hopelessly in the middle of as i sentence. There was an awkward >ause, and the jury and bar nervously th iwaited the result. His Lordship at fo ast, after many efforts to decipher the ha nissing word, dropped his dignity, and, nc eaning over towards the reporters be- ro ow, inquired: "Can any of you gen- se lemen assist me \o a word hero? I ch lave not. put in the vowels, and what I lave in my book looks as if the witness re lad said, 'Go and call in the baby,' to rat"?with a puzzled look?"it can't pa " * *- ' >e that, because tnere is no d&dy m woe w ;ase." One of the reporters was equal til o the occasion, and, putting the vowel pa n the right place, the word "bobby" Fi vas the result, and the Judge continled his charge.?London Ttibits. . . de "Doctor, do you think my leg is any de setter off?" asked the man who had ba Tied to keep two freight cars from yc coming together. "Yes, replied the Ii physician, "a good deal better ofL" pi ajia ne proceeaea to get s?r?.? ^ Boston PosL :" Z M / r ca ? ? (jt r* - * - ; i I ^ BEBGH OS RACING. Ie Entertains Very Decided Opinions as to the Cruelty of Racing. "A beautiful morning. Take a seat," aid Mr. Bergh this morning to a re>orter for the Mail and Express. 'Providence is wise. It knows bad reather and politics would be too much or. us to war, and so we have fine reather." "You've seen that Maud S. lowered at? wo s. Ling reuutu uj a 4ua1.bc*. ui a ccond, Mr. Bergh?" "That makes it 2:09}, does it not? Lnd even that won't satisfy the racing (nbaa," . - ' "Do you consider such speeding a rnelty?" .... "Most decidedly. It is a. cruelty from rhich no benefit is derived. Why, Mr. Jonner is no more satisfied now than ie was, before the mare accomplished he task. Now she will be expected to Dwer the record again, because her. wner, trainer, and a number of good adzes of this kind of achievement hide she can.. If Mand S. went round . mile in one minute, then- she would e^tlowork to do it in fifty-nine sec 1 rlto yon consider the tramtng tne .orse ^oes through cruel, or theiace A Horse cannot go on forever Dwering a record. Making an animal o its utmost so frequently must tax a power and cause pain- It is an exense to the owner and a great exhaus- 1 ion to the horse. The training is unatural and must eause any animal a eal of discomfort" , "Axe you opposed to racing generalj, or only to the attempts to lower the : ecord?"' ? ! vTo all kinds of racing or unnatural peeding of .animals. In horse-racing be jockey is armed with a whip ana \ piirs and the racers arc stabbed and j ^hipped until not '.infrequently they ; rop from sheer exhaustion. * Is not | i^t cruelty? And yet we have no ' ower to interfere, because the law : -ants us to see the cruelty actually ^mmitted." "Is there no remedy for this?" . ! "I am willing to acknowledge I am . KflMntfo fV?? moi^riftr r\$ fho ' immunity support it, and they support from vanity and gambling. Take ' way the gambling from the race- ' 3urso and the turf will have lost near- 1 ' ail its attraction, or like the opera ith Patti singing but not receiving 5,000 a night. It will be the same as bull-tight without blood. As an exnple, some time ago a party of ndalasians came here and built a ring 1 l j One Hundred and Twenty-fifth reeL I informed them that if they ;tempted a bull-fight I would stop the ' fair, and that a horse would not be , lowed in the ring. They agreed to aly use paste on the rosettes and not ' ;as? and do away with the blood, and hat was the result? The whole af ir was a failure, which would be presely the case with horse-racing if imbling was stopped." ' "It is said that some owners refuse > allow their horses to be whipped or mrred." , ' "Such an owner ought to show himilf in Bunnell's museum at least once day. Do you suppose that if an own starts a norse in a race, ana nas a it of say $10,000 on that horse's win- ' jig, ho will tell tie jockey he must )t spur or whip it? I can't conceive tch & thing, and imagine the jockey's lly instructions would be, go in and ' in. An owner made the assertion me time ago that it was natural for ' horse to run like they are made to do, id that they like to be whipped all und the course. Take that man and { it a bit in his mouth and make him ;n round a ring, at the same time , rashing him, ana see how he likes it; Ld it is the same thing, only the horse ' a dumb animal and cannot express i feelings.". , "You grant, I suppose, these horses ] e well taken care of ?" "Such, care as you or I would be -II satisfied with at the Fifth Avenue >tel? but such a<s is unnatural to a use; and then they only receive such ire while they are repaying their own- < 3k Let them deteriorate or sprain an 1 lkle and then see where they go to. t jllow one of these horses and you will id him by and by standing in front of 1. ash-cart belonging to some one ^ irtine refuse up to Shantytown. I ] ioul<f think that these gentlemen embers of the Jockey club who say ey have the interest of the horse at j :art would be glad to have our reprentativo on the course to report any sq of cruelty, but they refuse altoither to give us admission, and then >g a horse all the way round"?New j ork Mail and Express. ? m ? m T *4 Painting It Bed." t 5 A citizen who was waiting at the cor- x sr of Jefferson avenue and Wayne ? rcet yesterday was accosted by a man t >out 27 years old, who said ho wanted f little information. When told to t ive ahead he asked: T ? U?r. \aimos5 every paper x piuix. uy uao mething in it about somebody painting < e town red. I don't see any red { und Detroit to speak of. Do they ( lint the buildings, or sidewalks, or < bat?" J "Mine innocent friend," replied the { tizen, "the term doe3 not refer ex;tly to paint and brushes. If you c buld come in here to clean out De- ( Dit, or if you are goin^ on a high old ] ree, or if you intended to raise an ex- ? tement, you should slant your hat' j er your left ear, spit over your ri^ht ( ouider, ana announce in a ioua vo .cu , at you were going to paint the to'ira j ^ c "Because red is the color of blood? c e?lightning?red hot times, eh?" ( Exactly." s *?Kind of a figurative expression?" ? "Just so." t "Well, I'm glad I've found out, and ? n much obleeged," said the stranger,- i he walked away. t Two hours later he was conducted to ? e Central Station by two officers, { ar-fifths drunk, and a tough case to r indie. He had a black eye, a bloody j ise, a bleeding ear, and had been lied in the dirt until he was a sight to e. When the Caotain asked the f *1 > arga me prisoner repneu: "Eed paint, Captain?put 'er down << d paint Been ail round paintin' 'er t wn red. Town been all round ( intin' me red Whoop! Lively old j wn! Lively old red!* Got painted 1 'er can't rest! Put 'er down red int?more'n a bar'l of it!"?Detroit ree Press. 5 3 ^ i C Scene on a railway platform at Heilberg?Traveler to University stu v nt: "Sir, vou are crowding; keep t .ck, sir." U. S. (fiercely): "Don't n iu like it? Allow me to tell you that y im at your service at any time or f ace." Traveler (benignantly: "Ah, ^ that is verv kind of VOU. Just ? xiy this sachel for me to the hotel.n ^ irman Paper. ? Beyond Her Dreams. As the carriage rolled over the gasrtudded street toward the Central Depot, the new-made wife rested upon her husband's shoulder, and pictured to herself the new home, whither she was going?pictured a proud old palace by the western sea, with its swish of fountains, and its sumptuous interior, and ts grand, grand views overlooking the spires of the city, and the winged argosies of the nations as they beat trough the golden gate, and the? But here the carnage stopped, and her husband getting out, assisted her to alight. They were in front of a small cottage in the outskirts of the city, and, placing his arms gently around her, he led her co mie aoor. "way arc yuu here, Frederick?'" she asked in bewi? derment. "This, my darling, is our future home," he- replied* tenderly but triumphantly, as he pushed' the door open and entered- the scantly furnished-' domicile. "Frederick! F-r-e-d;e-r-i-o-k! What* io you mean?" . ' "I mean, ' my sweet," drawing heir: closer ' that I am not a Western man, nor a CaHfomiah?that?" "Sir!" coldly, and drawing haughtily" ?romhim. r ;-; "But that I am a coachman!" "Oh, Frederick, you delicious old darling you!" and she rushed into his arms and buried her face on his shirt bosom, laughing hysterically for joy. "Yes, my dear, I am a coachman,and have been one ever since I have been anything almost. lou see, i teit a longing for love, for true, true love. Many proud and wealthy maidens smiled on me, but I .feared that they eared not for me, but.for my position; and so-1 resolved to disguise myself as a rich swell and to seek some woman who would love me for myself alone, and not because I was a coachman. <^nd now, my dear, that I have found her, I throw off all disguise and am a eoachman once more?your coachman, and vours only." .. "Oh, Frederick, you dear, dear, old trecencK: now nooie, uow geueious pou are! And to- think that I ever should be a coachman's wife! I never, aever .dared to dream of such happiness for poor little me!"?SanFrancisco Chronicle. ' Some New Geography. Of what is the surface of the earth composed? Of corner lots, mighty poor roads, base-ball grounds, crieket fields and skating rinks. What portion of the globe is water? About three-fourths. Sometimes they ' add a little gin and nctmeg to it XXTT-t o f ^ O O f AM7TI P VT UttU U Cv WTTAfc. A town is a considerable collection of houses and inhabitants, with four or five men who "run the party" and lend money at 15 per cent interest 1 What is a city? 'A city is an incorporated town, with a Mayor who Relieves the whole world shakes when he happens to fall*flat on the sidewalk- .J What is commerce? j Borrowing $5 for a day or two and ; lodging the lender for a year or two. : Name the different races. ! Horse-race, boa-race, by cycle-race, 1 and racing around to find a man to endorse your note. . T_4.? "U aytt flOCAO ic I JLLl IAJ U\J >Y jjaa.ilJ u xuuuiuuvt iivided? Seven?Enlightened, civilized, half- j civilized, savage, too utter, not worth a ] ;ent, and Indian Agents. What nations are called enlightened? Those which have the most wars, and ihe worst laws, and produce the worst jriminals. , How many motions has the earth? That's according to how you mix four drinks, and which way you go iome. What is the earth's axis? The lines passing between New York j ind San Francisco. What causes day and night? j Day is caused by night getting tired ' jut Nisrht is caused by everybody 3 ;akin? tiTe street-cars and going homo 1 O O O . v I o snpper. What is a map? ' - A map is a drawing to show the jury 1 vhere Smith stood when Jones gave J lim a lift under the eye. What is a mariner's compass? A jug holding four gallons.?San 1 Francisco Neivs-Letier. Something New in the Law. Senator Yance claims that the peo- < >le of North Carolina are the most law- J ibiding people in the world, and to I >rove'it tells of a newly appointed jus- '< ice of the peace who on a public occa- J :ion, when a fight was about to com- ] nence, commanded the peace, and pre- s ;erved it bv rushing between two com- 1 )atants, drawing a knife a foot in i en^th, and threatening instant death i o the man that should violate the pub- < ic peace. c I know (writes a correspondent) of 1 m incident which illustrates admirably ? ;hc love of justice which animates our > xcellent body of magistrates, as well J is their ingenuity iii threading the I nazes of the law, and arriving at its i rue meaning and intent. . A newly appointed J. P. in one of s war. frrrin/* a V /Ui CiVK/iU WUUbi^O IT Uk7 V4J liiC ? \MIU :ase of much difficulty, in which the aw appeared to be involved in consid:rable doubt. On one side was Lawyer' 3 , contending that the law was lead in favor of his cHent; on the other vas Lawyer H , who was equally as >ositive that the law was clearly on the )ther side. The Court was in great ioubt for a time, but a lucky idea ocsurred to his mind. "Gentlemen," iaid the Court, "the facts in this case ire well ascertained, but the law seems ;o be doubtful. The attorneys on each ;ide have stated what the law is, but hey do not agree. The Court decides hat as the facts are established by the >aiks of witnesses, the law must bees- { ablished in like manner. The Court I equires each attorney to swear that the t aw is what he has asserted it to be." i One of the attorneys took the requir>d oath without hesitation. The other lemurred, and lost his case. Our new J. P. declares that he has liscovered a plan of getting at the A ruth of the law never thought'of by c 2oke or Blacks tone.?Editor's Draw.:', n Harper's Magazine for December. ? m ? f A young Philadelphia widow, decribed as "dashing," it is said,- will ;ive a ball during tne coming winter at ( rhich no ladies but widows 30 years of .ge or under will be present.* Grass j ndows will be sternly barred out* As he local widows of the right kind will lot be numerous enough, invitations j. nil be sent to widows an 25ew York, E Boston, Baltimore, and other cities, i 'he buds and roses of the Quaker City j re up m anns, and threaten to ostraise all the yotmg men who may attend >A he widow's baJl. WIT AND Sweet Is the voice of the maiden Zafr; Bright is the g-low of the risingmoon; ,Si^jasai5il! Softare the zephyrs that stirthe sir; Load Is the blast of the trombone's tune; The maiden Rill sleep ere the morning grey; * The glOTv of the inoon will-fade away; ^>5* The zephyrs will die when the nightIs gone,' ?, Y ' But the blasted trombone will still play on- ... ?Somerville Journal. /. . rhe light of her eyes was a shining blue, - ^ Thecastof herlips a ruby red: " ' * * r And this was all that he thought to do. As he placed his hand on her weD-poisedheaS, *v' * To steal one long transcient kiss;. And he bended ovcrward on his toes, But all the remembrance of his bliss Is the scars of fingernail? on ate nose. v.. % l ?Cherubusco People. -je- . At a cheap 'restaurant: ."Will ypu' '-r " V ^ have a 25-cent d i nucr, sir, or a S5-cent , 'sgSs? " one?" "What is thedifiereneobefcireen : the two?" "Ten cents, sir."?French Fun. "Just look at that drag; mj**don't she put on lots-of agony 3*' ijan^iedfa Heights isuiy to iier mgDanu. as uwy. met a ^ its own corner merely becarJe*the man' lies down. You never hear of a prizefighter fighting anywhere unless there; s lots of gate money behind the fight. ?Burlington Havikcye.. John Fizzletep is not as industrious >s he might be at school and his,father.... ndeavors to. correct the eyfl. *5Sbyou'~ were kept in again to-day at school for :o;>: not knowing your lessOp. .Just walk' f/\ rsnf KAAm " vO/4* V1 TTI Ck$~fyT\ LtXLTV/ bUdb HJVi.ll) - OiUU V1U XiACMVVUJ/Jf . hunting for a strap. "01^ no,. , pa. ' Don't for goodness' sake let us have another one of those scenes." i,:? They were talking about the suffer n<rs of the Greely party.; -"Itfs a terrible thing, isn't it,"' Oara,rt said Oharles, "to live off the fieSkof toman oeings?" "Oh, I don't know," replied ; Clara, a bride' of six months^ ''You are a cannibal, too, Charley. You live off father, you know." Charles fainted dead away?at the ancient flavor of the cutting remark.?Traveler'$i Magazine. : A Little "Bock man sold his cooking stove to get money enough to* take his family to the circus.1- Wnen one of his friends remonstrated'-wrth^fhn-he said: "We had ho use for the stove; had nothino-to cook." "But whv didn't you buy something- to- est. with the money you got for the stove?' "Then we should have nothing to cook it oh. Don't talk" to me. I'm a philosopher." ?Arkansaw Traveler* "Oh, dear," sighed a woman, who was always complaining about her health, and who was never, under any circumstances, without some 'serious ailment,- "I feci so. wretchedly this morning. I think I am the most unfortunate woman alive." . "Xes," said heishusband, sympathmngly.; "I feel c very sorry for you, indeed, my dear. I don't believe there is'a woman in the world who enjoys such poor 'health a3 you do.v?New York Sun. The Comanche Indians are said to be starving. There is no reason why the .Comanches should starve. Lefc some Hew York lady of fashion do away with her poodle and take a Co. tnan.che for a pet Then all the other fashionable ladies will take one. In. this way the Government will not only be relieved of all the expense, but the Indians will be fed and clothed.? Louisville Courier-Journal. A Boston dude for some incompreSensible reason was married one day last week to a stout, healthy country yirl. The dude was perfumed, wore irills on his shirt, his hair was curled, and ae presented such a feminine appear- _ mce that the clergyman who was called >n to unite them in matrimony sand: "I don't want to make any mistake ibout this business. Which of you is :he bride, anyhow?" , "Does the man rush?" "Yes, he is ?. 1* tiWlirr ^aao Tirrm*rr oIaviiv^ 1 iUdllCI* TV HJ UVtO JUV UUiLJ WiVAig ihe, street in that fashion? Perhaps his louse is afire." "Perhaps he never i&d one. That man is a lawyer, who possibly makes $10 a week. When ho eaves his office he puts up a sign: Back in three minutes; please wait!" But why does he rush?" "To make Deople think he is carrying-thoSupremd ^ourt of JViichigan under Ms hat." ^Wouldn't some of his creditors 'tackle lim on the street if he didn't put on so nuch steam?" "K'rect, my wyfYou night guess a thousand times and not lit the nail any closer!"?Detroit Free Press. Kosciusko Murphy was taking a cap )f coffee in Schmidt's restaurant on Austin avenue,- when the genial proprietor came" in, .and, .taking a seat ilonsside of Murphy, they soon engaged in conversation on scientific subects. ; "It vas somedings wonderful," CJ/vl>w?itnrkrt4- TVHAi'?meg lo rdlll TTuav M ?m?vw yj science.1' "Yes, that is so, and in some things science has gone as far as t -can possibly go." 4'I vas not sosuro >f dot," responded Schmidt. "For instance, when it comes to making gold eaf the leaf is made as thin as it is possible to make it. Science has also made wonderful progress in your business. ?or instance, look at this coffee. Is it possible for science to make it any thin- s. ler than it is?"?Texas SifUngs. ' "Darling," she whispered,'- as she itood besiae his chair and rubbed the: )ald spot on his head in the gentlest nanner, "why this gloom tor night?" 'Effie," ho replied, in a broken voice, 'are you prepared to hear bad news?'1 Yes?no! What can it be?" "I am llLUl il UU UUU CXXV-. AAWtV ?/Via %1*-J u fill probably witness my financial uin." "0, no! no! I can save you; res, I can save you!":' ."How?". "I'll it once issue cards and invitations for >ur wooden wedding, which* is only ieven days away. We'll invite at least >00 of our friends, each one of whom v21 be bound to send a present Next lay you can sell the whole business to ;ome corner-grocer and secure enough ash to carry you through- . Hold on or eight days, Richard, and' we'll be ong on pork and short on rolling-pin3 md - potato-mashers."? Wall : Street Yetcs. y An Honest Beggar. 1 A benevolent lady investigated the vants of some professional beggars tho >ther day. "Where is the the blind man?" she Lsked of a little 2-irl she met at the loor of the tenement house. "He's readin' dcr paper, mmn \ "Ah! And where is the deaf man?" "He's talkin' politics wid de bntch-7 sr." "And what has become of the paraytic?" "He's abed, mam." "Well, that's strange. He ought to ye running a race," replied the lady, iarcasticaily. "He is the only honest >eggar in the building. Why is he in "Because he's dead, mum,"?Drake's Traveler's Magazine. ^