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ABBEVILLE PRESS & BANNERj| BY HUGH WILSON AND W. C. BENET. ABBEVILLE, S. C., WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 11, 1878. , NO. 27. VOLUME XXVl|jjji ^i? ?????? _ . , ____ Thanksgiving. The beaded frost at early mom Gleams whitely o'er the stubble, And past the eaves at night is borne The north wind's wail of trouble ; Bat shines the earth with rnddy light, The board is gay and cheery, And household mirth is flowing bright Bound hearts forlorn and weary. How dark soe'er the world path be, Bow vexing earthly clamor, To-day the sunbeams goldenly Ponr down a heavenly glamour. The warring voices cease, or blend In chorda of solemn sweetness. "While harvest anthems seek the friend Who gives the year completeness. For tender spring, for summers wealth, For autumn's royal splendor, For homes of peace, for joy and health, Thanksgivings full we render ; And age with winter's sifted Bnow Meets childhood's sunny weather: The reasons come, the seasons go, And all are glad together. "LEFTENANT JIM." A STORY OF THANKSGIVING DAT. Time?About 11 o'clock, a. m. of a November morning, 1868?a dead sky above and a dead earth beneath, as they are seen in dreams. Place?A little creek wedged in between two high banks, and alow riokety bridge over the creek, whose three-foot depth of water was filmed with ice ; water whose sleeping ripples had not been wakened by the sun. Person?A shabby, scarcrow sort of man bending over the rail, leaning the while on his arm. The figure hardly seemed a man. Its once black hat of felt was rusty-hued, and haggled with gashes, ont of which sprouted thiD bunches of jet black hair. The brim was pulled down, front and rear. The coat, onre part of a nobby summer suit, was dirty, stained by rain, bleached by shine, aii?l trimmed with holes, the scuttling leaks of unostentatious ill-for tune. The r< pose of man and nature was suddenly and sharply ended. A tuneless whistle * broke out behind one of the banks?a feeble, wavering spirit of horrible diteord?such a sound as only a little boy can make with oheeks and lips. The man turned his head a little. Through the air sailed a speck. It dropped upon the arm of the lounger. It was a t tone. It hurts, for the man stood er< ft, uttered an oath, and turned his face to the road down which now trudged a small boy. The youngster j and the whistle stopped as they reached 1 the bridge. The face frightened the ! boy. It was thin, haggard, and savage, j with a black beard of a fortnight's growth, and wild eyes that showed by their setting how hunger had crowded them back and pinched the nose and i oheeks ; not a cruel face, all in all, but one made pitiable by hopelessness and starvation. " You young rascal," lie said, catching the little fellow and giving him a : } gentle shake ; "I've a good mind to drop i you into the river and let the minnows , fight- for you. What did yon hit me for, eh?" The captive, more frightened than hurt, yelled at the first touch, and then boy-fashion, dropped to tears. "What did 3 on mean?" asks the man, suddenly softening in temper and speech, and putting his band, with kindly touch, on the little fellow's head. "Ididn't mean nothin'," sobbed the child. "I?Iwas only tryin'to whistle." "Ha! ha I That was* it, eh? You made a very bad note in your tune, don't you know ? You pegged me with & stone. The stone hurt, hurt even a fellow like me." "I didn't mean to," says the child. " Of coarse not. I know tlmt now. Yon couldn't see me. I'll apologize. Now Btop crying, cheer up, call it even, and let's be friends J Is it a bargain ? " Bnt tho sobs would come up and the tears fill the eyes. The boy had sprung a leak and seemed likely to sink. The man became nervous. He might frighten a grown-up fellow, and enjoy the victory ; but as to this child?well! he was heartily ashamed of himself. So he tried the strategy of wealth. He thrust one hand into the mine of a pocket. It worked about therein iike the scoop of a dredge. It eurue fo the entrace, full of debris. "See here, little one ! " he erief, getting down upon bis knees, and spreading bis collection upon the boards. "Just look heret Isn't this bric-a-brac, as they call it? " That's a brass buttonuseless for want of a button-hole. That comb I'll keep for my party-going hair. Yes! I know you have one. That's tobacco, but you don't chew. This fat jaok-knife is no good, for it will not cut. I only keep it because it shuts up when I want to talk. Ugh! Don't touch that I for it's vile tobacco. Here's a key to a house I never owned. Let me | Bee 1 That, I guess, is bread done up in tobacco. We'll "cast that upon the I waters,"?pitching it into the creek. Wheat?the last of my crops. String? you can't eat that and there's not enough > for a kite. Ah ! Here we have it? \ "the sad remains of an ill-spent life" and he flopped in the palm of his hand I a dingy five-cent piece. Now sonnv. wring out vour eyes, Btop crying, make friends with me, and the money is yours for candy or the misaionary-box, as you choose. Is it a bargain ? " - The boy's eyes brightened. He swallowed his sobs, put out his hand, took the money and said?"Thank you!" His captor laughed. "That's the way of tbe world, Johnny, 1 boy. You can always buy silence for grief. Remember that, when you come to make your will. As I've paid you for five oenta' worth of misery, show me the candy store 1" He had said all this | in a grave way, just as if he were talking to some one who could understand him; and the boy had looked on just as if he ' did not (which was the fact) compreI hend what was meant. But " candy I store " were two words of one meaning r for him, and he became a guide where, | heretofore, he had not even followed, V " It's at Winscom," he said, j " And where is that, my cherub ?" * " Over tbe hill there. I was going to it when you cotched me." " Tut! tut I Don'-t say cotched ! Say caught!" 14 Caught I" t "Excellent. Now I'm going to ' Winscom. Somebody in it owes me a big dinner for not giving me my breakfast. Will your royal littleness?that is to say, Johnny, will you ride?" 44 Where's your horses ?" asks the bov. r,In my boots, infant! Oh, yon , needn't l'>ok for them. They're sure to be ont at the toes, when you want 'em. Don't be afraid. I'm a tramp, and I'm hungry; but I don't eat little boys. Steady, eow, sit on my shoulder 1" With a laugh. and a whiotle as sharp as a mocking-bird's, he swnng the ohild to his shoulder, settled him firmly and moved slowly and with labored steps I over .the road to Winscom, his rider I aglow the while with boyish exultation, I and chirruping like a jockey. 1 * * "Let me down I" shouts the boy, as they arrive in the outskirts of Winsoom. Hive in that house. Oh, pap* I A bare-headed man, standing with bis i r ' br.ck to the road, looked around, and : o I then came hurriedly to the gate. His j d boy in the possession of a ragged Strang- g j er gave him a fright. o "Here you! What are you doing J t with my son ?" be demanded. " Rob, get down this minute. Ain't you j h ashamed of yourself ?" " He ought to be," answered the ! b tramp, as he swung the boy to the walk, j "He ought to be. The Lord knows | tl I'm ashamed of myself. But, sir, we ; b i can't all be Vanderbilte. I'm no inten- j tiou 01 bieuiiug your oou. i gave uirn a | * ! lift because I liked him. Good-morn- I fi ; ing !" and with a downward jerk front j ; and rear to the brims of his shabby old j si hat and punching his hands into shabby I old pockets, this woeful vagabond went I shuffling away against the raw wind and I h down the leaf-carpeted street. : o The respectable citizen, for half a si minute, seemed puzzled, and leaned I o over the gate, shading his eyes with i lc his hands, though there was no sun, ; and inattentive to the story which the j s< urchin at his legs was pouring out. n " I'll swear it's he," he says at last. jG " It's Jim. I'd know him among a thou- ! it | sand." Then, half opening the gate, he j I called out: j ft j " Leftenant 1" j s< The figure proceeded without a re- I n ! pponaive motion. "Leftenant Jim!" h: That time it was a shout. It waa b: ' heard. The tramp halted, whirled e< half about, touched his hat involun- fc tarily, shook his head angrily, call- | ed himself an idiot, whirled about j ti and went on his way at u more rapid ! m pace than he had shown during the day j ?and all regardless of the recall of j h< j " Leftenant! Leftenant!" ; ai " That was the dear old call of the rc dear old boys; and it is Belden, by all j a that's great*" he says, half pleased with i s\ the recall, and yet half angry at disccv- ! fo ery. " But why can't I be left alone ' cc and utterly lost to all who knew me be- j ce fore I became 8?a tramp?"?and the j in last word came out with an emphasis j ai that showed an agony of shame: "I'd E [ kill myself if I dared. Ah, if I dared. | ti< i Bah ! I'm hungry. No breakfast, and ! ! here it is high noon by the sun, ' Lef- i th tenant Jim,' if you want something to ! eat or drink, you must beg for it, you j ti< hero of lunacy, you miserable vagabond, j you outcast, you pauper." ! is He was not joking with himself when ! he brought out these last words. He 1 tb was somberly mad. At the same time ! 01 j he was so full of shameful hesitation at i the inevitable course that he would have j gi to pnrsue in order to get a meal, that i rc he abandoned the main street and i hi sought the shelter of the underbrush by ' H the river, that he might think over the j or matter. Meantime Belden had run into the J house for his hat. | cr " Wife," he cried ; " Sis, both of vou, j listen I I've just seen Leftenant Jim. j j?? I am going out to catch bim, confound \ ^ him." "Bring him to dinner, Charlie 1" j & says both of them in one voice, for they , h* had heard of this frien i for years. But ?' when Rob told his little adventure, and ; deFcribed his morning's companion, j J1' they rather hoped the lieutenant might not*be caught. I Se * Up into the village raced Belden. He 00 had missed his man on the road. At the drug store, at the tavern, at the grocery, !aE he demanded?" Havo you seen 4Lef- j2113 tenant Jim ?' " No one had seen him ; j. but few, apparently had heard of him. i1D At the postoflBce the crowd of loungers I were just as ignorant, just as indifferent i. as were thoBe at the other resorts. More j than that, some of them asked for in- j formation as to the officer's identity. , Tt was than that "Rplden hpr>amft an im- I age of wrath, that he glared with fierce 1 ! eyes, that he smote his hands and snap- j [ ped his fingers in indignation. ! na " Who is Leftenant Jim ? Nice men i ! yon are. I've told yon forty times, but I 'a< I'll tell von again. I'll tell you who he ; ^ was and?and, thanks to a grateful . country!?what he is. He was a soldier ' | without fear, a hero unhonored, and a r i sergeant without promotion, save by his , an | comrades?aad I was one of them. It j \ was plain private Jim, who got six bul- J1" lets in his body for picking up his 30m- j ha i pany's flag and holding it until the ene my had to t#*ar it from him in " strips and make his body a bullet- [ be punch. It was Corporal Jim who with four men captured a six-pounder at i. Cbancellnrsvillc and fought it until only ; Jim was left. It was Sergeant Jim who, kn in the Wilderness, while waiting nnder tire for orders to advance, left the ranks, j he i picked up a shell that lay with burning S fuse not ten feet from him, carried it to j ^ a mud-puddle and threw it in. It was then the boys made him leftenant. And two hours later it was this same leften- j W( anfc who fonght like a demon over the th : body of his wounded colonel, and got wt ' two saber cuts as his reward for saving he ! his man. He wanted to die, he said, j ^ but couidn't get kiiled. That's a little j of what he was. To-day I've seen him ?I thought he was dead?and he is a fr' tramp, gentlemen, a miserable vaga- j ]1{ bond, with clothes too mean for a scavenger, and without food enough in- ; m side of him to keep his skin in place. Give him something to eat if he asks it, j cn j and; you'll feed a hero. As for me, he j | ia to me as a brother. My home shall , ar | De nis nome, it 1 can nnu mm. nav- i ?' ; ing delivered this speech, he set out j once more in search of his friend. Poor Jim, cronching in the brush, \ weary and cold, had dozed a little at er ! first. Then he began to chew basswood i i buds and wondered, as he munched, ; hi i how and where he should get his dinner. ; .T( He disliked to venture out of his place of concealment, for he feared Belden [ more than he ever feared an enemy. In 7( I all his vagabondage he had never yet w asked for more costly charity than a aI | drink of water. He had worked when 7< | he could get anything to do, and earned m ' his money, the last of which had gone ^ ! to the boy. He had avoided towns be! cause their people were inhuman, givj ing strangers no chance. But he was in j Winscom?the great city lay only a ti : dozen miles away?and he must eat ! though he begged for it, and was tnrned I from door after door. ! w i He rose to his feet, every motion cans- ; " ing him pain, and came out into an open . ^ lot. The wind had freshened since 81 morning. The skies bad darkened, and ! ^ dashes of fine snow gave signs of a bud j j night. Adown the long Btreet into j w ^ which he emerged not a person was to be seen. A dull town, thought the lieu- b tenant, forgetting that its men went to *c the city. Then he made a circuit to h avoid Belden, and to escape groups of ^ people. He began his disagreeable h task at a diagonal point of the town from T( where he started. 7 At three houses the door was shut in b his face before his request for food P was half spoken. The " Leften- to ' ant" swore at this sort of treat- e i raent. That was natural enough for a . hnngry man who had been a hero; but J( everybody did not know his record. Of ^ course not, and they would never hear S of it from his lips. Moody and despair- ^ ing, he prepared for what he resolved ^ should be his last request. A hand- " some cottage was before him. It was well-lighted, for the duBk was falling. ^ He pushed up his hat on one side and pulled it down on the other, that it might have a more jaunty look. He took a that trouser leg out of his boot and de- a posited iu hie pocket the string which n had belted his coat Those little alter- b afcions did not change his appearance y ouch, but they softened some of t iutlines. His timid knock at the ba loor was answered by a buxom Iri ;ifl. As the door opened, there rush mt the fragrant incense of roastii urkey. "lam hungry," he began. "I' iftd nothing to eat to-day." The door began to close. He put 1 tand against it. "For heaven's Bake give me som bing, if it's not more than a crust read !" It was the hero "Lieutenant Jin rho was pleading for just a few mout ills. Tho door opened a little. " Ye're a hard-looking tramp, ye are aid the girl. " I know it,"admitted thelieutenai "And the mistress is mighty partic ir," continued the girl. "Thelastoi f ye's we fed just ran away wid t] hpoon, though, to be sure it was i uld iron one. Ye's a mighty ugly f< >W." "Perhaps. But I don't steal," a ?rted the ex-soldier, "Now think linute! I've eaten nothing to-da five me a bit of something. I'll eat 1 the back yard?anywhere." " Well, come in," said the girl doufc illy. "I'll take my chances. Ther it in that chair and don't shpake a wu id." She bustled around and soon hand* im a plate loaded with cold meat ar read, a generous slice of butter on tl 3ge, and a bowl of milk to keep tl ?od company. " Pitch in'now !" she ordered. " Tc nd to your business and I'll tind I .ine, but no thavery." Dinner had not been served. E sard the hum of distant conversatic id little bursts of laughter in a distai >om. Now and then some one Btruc piano. The lieutenant's keen ey< vept the kitchen and the pantry. Bi ire him was a wealth of pies, A pot < >ffee on the stove bubbled up its ii snse. The turkey sizzled and crackle . the oven. Dishes of apples and nui id raisms were upon tne long tabl< verything betokened unusual festiv es. "A party ?" he said, nodding towar ie front part of the house. "Thanksgiving day 1" was the sentei jus reply. " Ah ! so it is. I had forgotten it. i a day not down in my almanac." The girl stopped as if to say som( ing, but changed her mind and wen 1 with her work. A door opened and a little fairy of irl perhaps six years old came in to th >om. She stood with her hands be ind her, and watched the "man " eal is plnte was nearly empty. He feltlik ie intoxicated. " Were you ever hungry, little one V ) asked of the miss, soraping the las umbs off his plate. " Lots of times; but never bo hun 7 as you. And I don't eat in th t-chen." 'Nor I, either, always; but I lik " said the lieutenant, rubbing hi outh on the back of his hand in liei a napkin. " In fact, it's fine." " Don't ye'a talk too much now, Mis rnra I" ordered Bridget, kneeling t iste the turkey. The small girl shrug xl her shoulders and pouted. " Is you really a tramp ?" asks Laura ming a little nearer. " A first-class one," says the lieuten it. " look at my boots," and he bal iced his feet on his heels. " They's real funny. They's laugh g," said the child, stooping over to ody the chasms in the toes. " Don't your papa wear such boots ?' quired the man. " I ain't got no papa," the girl re ied. " Nor I," laughed the tramp, but th ild was very Bober. " My name's Laura, what's you ,me ?" Bhe asked, a moment later. " My name ?" said the lieutenant, hi ce becoming very grave. " My name iaven't any. I lost it long ago." " Did anybody find it ?" was the ques in sagely propounded. She stoo< 5se to him now, one hand on his knee d wistfully looking up into his face something he saw in it overcam m, and he bowed his head in hi ,nds. " Don't be imperent!" said Bridget Lave the man alone ! I think you'< tter be going, sir." The leftenant raised his head. "I think so, too." He looked agai: to the child's face?stooped down an ssed her. "My hat!" he demanded, sharply, a I turned away. It was near the dining-room door lere Bridget's dress had swept it. H Doped to pick it up. At the same in ant the door opened and a handsom >man, richly dressed and not more tha irty years of age, stood in the dooi ly. As he rose his face looked int :rs. His hat dropped from hiB han ia ne staggered oacK. " 0 God !" he cried. " It is Marian. A quick cry of surprise and joy cam om the lips of the woman. She place 3r hands on his shoulders and gaze vingly and mutely into his face. Th an's head slowly drooped. 41 Husband, look at me !" she criec etching his hands in hers. "I cannot, I dare not. See what n 1 Remember what I was?to you, j said. "Always my husband, Jamos, an ways forgiven." "Always your husband?" standin ect and with a wild vigor in his att: ide. " Marian, I heard that the lai id freed you from me, because I struc )u when I was drunk, and in my sham jserted you when I was sober." " It was all false. I have waited fc )u for five long years. I knew yo ould come back Bome day. Now yo e here. Poor, poor husband! Ho' )u mutt have suffered! Come wit ~ T t rnu? T ui jjauia, uunu, wuici iuo uau ay is clear." Still ho hung back. "I am not fit, 9 said. "Iam forever disgraced. L< ,e go away and come back again son me when I am no longer a tramp." "James, thin is Thanksgiving Da; ; is our day, if anybody's. Ton mui >me. You are no longer a tram] lank God Come ! It is home agai >r all of us and putting her arn round her husband she led him out < le room and out of his bondage. An hour later the tramp sat at h ife's table an a gentleman, dressed i lack clothes, his hair trimmed, h eard cut in civilized shape. The tran >rmation was complete. To his wif er father, her brother and her brother ife, he told, after grace, the story i is self-imposed exile, of the shame ar smorse which had followed him f< ears, of the strange faith which he rought him back that night to tl resence of one whom he had suppos< ) be a thousand miles away, and fo per lost to him. Happy ! No home ever knew keen )y than waited upon this reunion ; i ome ever had such pathos at its Thank iving dinner. Of all his heroism noi ras nobler than that which made " Le jnant Jim " once more a husband ai ither?the heroism of confessing ai egretting the greatest wrong of t le. A chamois, "with red eyes, white hor nd. hoofs, and a snowy-white fleece, mong the ouriosities of the Zooplasl luaeuin at Soleure. It is the secoi pecimen found in the Alpann thii he Alfred's Chilling Reception. Mr. Alfred Ethelridge is bashful; he ?h does not deny it. He wishes he wasn't fa e(* sometimes, but wishing doesn't seem to ol Q? help the case much. Everybody in tl Burlington likes him, except the father di ve of a young lady out on Pond street, w . With an instinctive knowledge of this cr 118 old gentleman's feelings, Alfred had for- r< borne to aggravate them and kept out of h< ie* the father's way as much as possible, ai ?* atoning for this apparent neglect by ce tt seeing the daughter twice as often. The sa ' other afternoon, Alfred went up the m h" steps and rang the bell. The door ki M | opened and? T '? Jfapa stood glaring ai mm, loosing a m thousand things and saying nothing. di 'k Alfred Ethelridge had never felt quite re n' so lost for language in his life. Pres- sii ae ently he stood on one foot and re- al ii? marked: lo in " Good afternoon I" bt " Gooftnoon," grunted papa, which G is, by interpretation, also good alter- nc s* noon. in a "Is?ah?is?or?er?er?Mis' Lalli- It pop?is your danghter at home ?" asked ht 1' Alfred, standing on the other foot. he "Yes, sir," said papa, rather more Fj shortly than Alfred thought was abso- he e? lutely necessary. Then nobody said as r' anything for a long time. Presently th Alfred Ethelrulge stood on both feet, to id and asked : ba id "Is she in?" al ie "Yes, sir," said papa, not budging a at le step from his position in the door, and an looking as though he was dealing with na iu a book agent instead of one of the nicest ha to young men in Burlington. Then Alfred ga Ethelridge stood on his right foot, and of [e said : or >n "Does she?can she receive com- en it pany ?" pc :k "'Yes, sir," papa said, savagely, not fol ?s at all melted by the pleading intonation Tt e- of Alfred's voice, which everybody else ce: if thought was so irrisistably sweet. Tli6n pl< i- Alfred Ethelridge stood on his left foot, eri :d and said : toi t8 " Is she at homo ?" ne 3. '' Yes, Bir," papa said, kind of coldly. st< i- Alfred Ethelridge looked down the yo street and sighed, then he stood on no d the right foot again, and said : o\ " Is she in?" cei i- "Yes, Bir," papa said, grimly, and of never taking his eyes off the yonng tui [fc j man's uneasy face. of j Alfred Ethelridge sighed and looked a j 5- I np the street, then he stood on his left th< t I foot and looked at papa's knees and said, dri j timidly, and in tremnlons tones : cri a i " Can she see me ?" otl e: "Yes, sir," papa said, but he never So s- moved, and he never looked pleasant, chi i. He only stood still, and repeated a sec- th< o ond time, " Yes, sir." bo Alfred Ethelridge began to feel it. He sli looked up and down the street, and final- cri t ly pinned his wandering gaze to the hu bald spot on the top of papa's head, then foi i* he said : ori e ? Will you please tell her that Mr. ter Alfred Ethelridge called ?" ga' e 11 Yes, sir," said papa, and he didn't fui s say anything more. And some how or not a other Alfred Ethelridge kind of sort of lov got down off the porch, and went kind Six 8 ; of out of the gate, like. He discontin- ha; 0 j ued his visits there, and explained to a wa j friend that the old man didn't say any- Go j thing that wasn't all right and cordial cic I enough, bnt the manner of him was g.il I rather formal.?Burlington Hawkeye. doi - j ^ of be] Hunting with the Nizam's Cheetah. 3 We move forward, bound for some .. knolls and rocks which command an un- ,J " interrupted view of the whole plain. Herds of deer are scattered about, lazi- tll.p . ly crouching under the trees, or feeding upon the finer herbage on the margin of {tbf a the pools. Two cradle-like native carts | I (hackeries), made of sticks and ropes, : coi r ! each drawn by a small bullock, are hov- , lj | ering about in the distance, and eanh j th< 8 : has lying down on its floor a hunting I ma ? j cheetah, hooded, fastened and dinner- | [ | less. The chase begins. From our ! yoi i- I vantage ground we see one cart slowly j bo] 1 I and cautiously driven toward a herd of del i i antelopes, and approaching them unseen j th? | and unnoticed. When within some j ] o i forty or fifty yards the cart stops, a I 8 I keeper jumps into it and slips and un- ^ | hoods the cheetah, who is down on the ^ i turf in the twinkling of an eye. the j j He sees the grazing animals, and ^ forthwith he begins to work toward {? I them. Step by step stealthily he ad- | u ' vances, stalking every inch with meas- j ^ [J ured, cat-like footfall and taking j r?. advantage of even- inequality of the i a | ground, every tuft of grass, and every ' j little bowlder of roc!', to cover his ap- r ; proach. Pace by pace onwards?now a sui e dead stop and nearer, behind a granite res t. bowlder he lays crouched for an instant, the e then on to its crest he crawls, and now a with an overwhelming leap, a tremen- lea . dous bound, and he is flying through ] o the air, into the very midst of the herd. th( (J A large fat back?the consort of many j firi does, the paterfamilias of many fawns, I floi " and who has been browsing a little its e apart from his household, has attracted roc tl the cheetah's attention, but the buck ] d has seen his dread enemy just in time, a r e and flies for dear life over the Bcrub, for over the turf, among the palms. The un I, cheetah follows close, now gaining, now po, ' ; losing ground. The chase is most exX i citing, and from our elephants' backs ma " j we see every yard of it. mc Now it seems certain that the deer, ^ d | fleeter of foot, will escape ; his springs ^ ! and bounds are telling on tne neavier g i and slower cheetah. Bat no; the [. I " stay " of that animal is greater, and ,v j his thirst for blood insatiable. For ,.J k some minutes more the hunt oontinues ; ' 0 the deer doubles back from a tope of trees, and comes into the open ;?a fall >r in the lay of the land gives the cheetah u a momentary advantage ; he sees it? u one, two leaps, and he is on tne deer's .. vf back and pins him fastly down. There h is a cry, a struggle, an endeavor to bring k , the sharp horns into action ; but the i weight and strength of Jubata is over- ,, " ! powering, and it is all up with the lord >c of that herd?the hinds are widows, and ie ' the fawns fatherless. The keepers come ; up ; they cut the throat of the dying j. stay, they feed with his life's blood 3t Jubata aforesaid, who now releases his 3 3, hold, and suffers himself to be detached n j from his quarry.?St. J amen' Magazine, j ^ | i bu : j cri j8 | Lombard j Poplars for Lightning-Rods, i !.D The reason which lies at the bottom j th is of the general belief, on the contioent of wj fl- Europe, that lightning strikes the Lom- i wi e, bardy poplar trees in preference to I ue 's others, is coming to light. Green herb- J ba age, and green wood?sappy wood? 'd are excellent conductors of electricity, tic 3r A tree is shattered by lightning only C? id when the discharge reaches the naked so 10 trunk or naked branches, which are ar, id poorer conductors. An old-fashioned pi' r* Lombardy poplar, by its height, by its bi complete covering of twigs and small Ni er branches and their foliage, down almost re to the ground, and by its sappy wood, pr s- makes a capital lightning-rod and a di cheap one. Happily no one can patent th it, and bring it round in a wagon, and se ^ iusist upon trying it on. To make it laid surer, the tree should stand in moist is ground, or near water; for wet ground is a good conductor, and dry soil a poor m one. It is recommended to plant a mi ns Lombardy poplar near the house, and wi is another close to the bam. If the ground ea ;io is dry, the nearer the well the better? th id except for the nuisance of the roots that pt ty will get into it.-?Prof, Asa Gray, An ca Amerioan AgrioulturUU \ wi Hangmen and the Gallows. Formerly hangmen were of the best A pc milies. Froissart says that the Earl mond : Arundel was hung by his Bon-tn-law, when 1 ie Earl of Marshal. The hangman's inhigfc resswns peculiar. Ho wore a clean he str hite apron, and if he beheaded a state man t iminal, was dubbed " esquire " all the dewing :st of his life. So it was no small briny jnor in olden times to be a hangman; " W id there is a recorded instance of a gently irtain lady, wife of a hangman, who " Oc iid, " that any bungler might put a female an to death, but her husband alone " Nc lew how to make a man die sweetly." earner bis lady died shortly after. The Ro- me wh ans, however, as well as the Germans, " 01 d not esteem that official in such high she we pute, as they did not allow him to re- " W de in town, although the gallows were the of rays within the city limits. The gal- blight* ws is a very old institution. It dates shine f ick to the days of Constantino the fore ai reat, who abolished crucifixion. It is depths )t a pleasant thing for a man to have tain* o his household, yet Cun the Great, an beauti< alian lord of the fourteenth century, which id one erected in the front of his "Ge rase, and repaired it each year ; and in o?h, 1 ranee gallows used to stand before the The rases of the territorial seigneurs, and plussei of single, double or triple frame, so and, a ey indicated the rank of their owner sympal be that of a gentleman, knight or could 1 iron. In early days, gallows, especi- fort, [y those in English vogue, had hooks '' Mi tached for the purpose of eviscerating his vo id quartering the bodies of the crimi- " made ,1s. Those barbarous appendages the bot ,ve long since been abolished, and the do not Hows of to-day is a very simple sort there i an affair. Two upright posts with a can dc ass-beam make the framework; two heart, ] osB-pieces, fastened into the principal no idl >sts, and receiving the hinges, which friend. Id horizontally, make the platform, the ser 16 traps are generany supported uy a i jvuio x nter prop constructed on the princi- I not prj e of the carpenter's rule. And gen- cern m illy to secure the safety of the plat- sorrow :m, two temporary props are arranged ly won ar the outer edge of the trap. The about )p ladder rests upon the left side as have b? u are in front of the gallows. A and poi ose rope dungles from the cross-beam the"? er head, and a email cord near the He ( ater prop. This is the picture, then, that tl the much dreaded instrument of tor- but sh re. In the fifteenth century the top mat ful the gallows moved up and down like 41 Ge )air of scalc s. At one end the halter, blather b other a weight. The halter was old gu iwn down and placed around the wouldn minal's neck, and the weight at the eome tr aer end lifted him from the ground, what I metimes an iron hoop with a strong Two I ain was fastened around the body, but a bootb 3 chain was no longer than the halter, and mi that when the latter was cut the hoop " If pped to the arm pits and left the animals minal exposed ; if a murderer he ?Cine ng three days. Stone gallows were merly used in Spain, and sometimes lamented with a knife cut in the cen- The c of the cross beam. The Roman find in Hows were very simple, and called a is as gr ca. But innovations and new-fangled art or tl tions have even crept into the gal them, vs business. Dr. Sam Johnson told j this in Walter Scott "that men were to . remark D? in a new way; that Tyburn ftself j was vat s not even safe from innovation." ' most st etz and Shea, who were hung in Gin- j tuted t inati in 1869, were hung from patent j atheleti Hows, consisting ot a platferm with a flesh w able trap, which fell upon tho touch j most es a pedal communicating with a lever I high r< low. | Pliny; ( I brough Words of Wisdom. : venison [f a man be gracious to strangers, it to have )ws he is a citizen of the world, and | nQd a h it bis heart iB no island cut off from : convivo ler lands, but a continent that joins . tion of im. ?"vul f a man will let matters take their Poc?e ? irse, he will live smoothly and quiet- )ari enough ; l ut if ho will sift things to ? na ) bottom, he must account himself a i tiamP?' n of strife. I m.M8 fit pjnrg ^0 fhe first Rvmr>tom of true love in a i " X- -J*! _J I 'L ' kUtt1' crng man is timidity; in a girl it is ?n(? a idness. The two sexes have a ten- Hma]i a] icy to approach, and each assnmes ^ j>rr > qualities of the other. war Plenty and indigence depend upon Trojan > opinion every one has of them ; and foxes (t hes, no more than glory or health, fed npi ?e no more beauty or pleasure than mired b sir possessor is pleased to lend them, fond of iVhat a rare gift is that of manners ! familiec iw difficult to define; how much more j they m Bcult to impart! Better for a man i how to possess them than wealth, beauty or | to rendi ont; they will more than snpoly them J der. ; from Cc Co be comfortable and contented, bo *1 :e to spend less than you earn, and J*^terly train your outgoes till they are lees 1 in your incomes. This seems to be highly < act that very few persons have rne<L The r tfot the surf-beaten rock, that lines are rep( 5 shore of the ocean, stands half so mos(j UE nly as the truth. It will live and ansh, and will ptill be truth, when all gpj^ opposers have perished, and every fgar B0' :k rolled from its bed. , [t is into the minute circumstances of tal drea can's conduct that we are to inquire alone. his real character. In these he is fours, fl der tbe influence of his natural dis- alone, t Bition,'and acts from himself; while in carry tl i more open and important actions he is supf ,y be drawn by publio opinion and search .nv other external motives, from that were u is which his disposition would have flesh. :en". turns ir turns t< Divorce in Otliei* Lanas If he? \n Arab may divorce his wife on the fico, he ghtest occasion. So easy and so com- nique, I >n is the practice that Burckhardt as- the isla res us that he has seen Arabs not sea. As >re man ioriy-nve years 01 age wno ims is ro known to have had fifty wives, yet The ns sy rarely have more than one at a olaim t( ie. trol Bp By the Mohammedan law a man may snperst force his wife orally and without any here, di remony ; he pays her a portion, gener- are nsu y one-third of her dowry. He may pret all force her twice and take her again world t< thout her consent, bnt if he put her great j ay by a triple divorce conveyed in the the poo me sentence, he cannot receive her and ar< ain nntil she has been married and posters, forced by another hnsband. By the Jewish law it appears that a fe conld not divorce her husband ; i It is it under the Mohammedan code, for ; proxim; uelty and some other causes she may j measur eorce him. I table, \ Among the Hindoos, and also among j great 8 e Chinese, a husband may divorce his ! ? rougt fe upon the slightest ground, or even, | reduce thout assigning any reason. She is nearly i ider the absolute control of her hus- twentynd. box thr The law of France, before the revolt and thr >n, following the judgment of the weighs itholic church, made marriage indis- to a r< luble, but during the early revolution- incheR i y period divorce was permitted at the A gallo easure of the parties when incompati- ten pou lity of temper was alleged. The Code gallon, lpoleon restricted this liberty. On the inches Btoratiou 01 tub .oournonB a iaw wus omulgated, May 8, 1816, declaring water vorce to be abolished; that all suits (more en pending for divorce by mutual con- pounds nt should be void, and suoh is now the eight g sv of France.?Albany Law Journal, gallons ! eight b " Do you make any reduction to a inches i Lnister ?" said a young lady to a sales- twelve an. "Always. Are you a minister's twenty Se?" "Oh no, I am not married," feet, j id the lady, blushing. " Daughter, box tw< en?" "No." The tradesman looked a half izzled. " I am engaged t<f a theologi- Fetrole 1-student," said ehe. The reductioa or nea is made. - turer a In Distress. jliceman was passing down Bichstreet last Wednesday afternoon ie heard a -woman's voice lilted t lamentation; opening the wicket, ] ode up to tho door, where a wo- 1 pas lying prone on the steps, be- I j the rubber foot-mat with her 1 tears. < bat is the matter, mam ?" ho said, i >h, boo, oo?h 1" said the stricken t )w, don't take on fo, " said the club 1 , with tremulous gentleness; "tell at is the matter." < j, I, I'm, a?a?ooh, oo?h 1" and r. pt afresh and copiously. 1 by, my dear, dear madam," said t Beer, "what great sorrow has 1 ;d your life and drove the sun- f rom yonr happy home ? Where- i e you thus cast down into the ' of anguish ? Why are the foun- f f your being broken up, and your jus eyes become springs from i the aqueous fluid"? 1 it out, you brute I ooey, ooh, o? r K>o-hoo." a sympathetic officer was non- t 3. Ho backed off a step or two, r 8 his great heart throbbed in \ ihy with so much suffering, he t >ut make one more effort at com- \ t idam," said he, and as he spoke ice grew husky with emotion; 1 im, I sympathize with you from r ;tom of my heart, and, while you t seem disposed to trust me, yet if | a *"? " it a j j t i is anyining in me rouna worm j. i i to lift this sorrow from your t let me do it. I assure you it is t e curiosity. I would be your s I will avenge your wrongs, and vices of one loyal and true are 1 f you will accept them. I would i ' into that which does not con- ? e, but I know that some great L is upon you, and gently, tender- v Id I raise the pall that hangs your life, dress the wounds that ' jen opened in your tender heart, b ar the balsam of consolation over s lid not notice in his vehemence I le woman had stealthily risen, e had, and, launching the foot1 in his face, she said: t out o' this, you mean old b skite ? You're meaner than that fc ardian in this dime novel who 't let his niece marry the hand- ^ apper. If I want to cry about b read it's none o' your business." y blocks away the policeman flicked g lack off the sidewalk by the ear, b ittered: k women ain't the curusest-built f, i in the world, kill me for a fool." 8 innaii Breakfast Table. b: ?? p Food of the Ancients. t! liversity of substances which we b the catalogue of articles of food si eat as the variety with which the tl he science of cookery prepares tl The notions of the ancients on o iportaut subject are worthy of tl Their taste regarding meat tl ions. Beef they considered the ihstantial food ; hence it conati- 1( ;he chief nourishment of their d B. Camels' and dromedaries' a an mrmli rlipir liwulci I <1 pecially. Donkey flesh wan in b] jputo; Mfflcenaa, according to ci lelighted in it; and the wild aas h t from A prica, was compared to . The hog and wild boar appear s< been held in great estimation; h og was called "animal propter k : natumbnt the classical por- V the sow was somewhat singular n va nil dulciua ampia." Their ii f killing swine was as refined in ty as in epicurism. Plutarch n that the gravid sow was actually n 1 to death, to form a delioious ; for the gods. At other times, tl re slaughtered with red-hot spits, i blood might not be lost. Stufpig with aasafoetida and very b airaals was a luxury called "por- h Ijanus;" alluding, no doubt, to riors who were concealed in the u horse. Young bears, dogs and ho latter more esteemed when y jn grapes) were also much ady the Romans, who were also so k various birds that some consular . Anonmo.l nomaa nf fhnflA I > UOOU'XiUU UUU .UMUAVSW VTA VMVWV j JJJ ost esteemed. Cattius tells us i w drown fowls in Falerniun wine, C( ?r them more luscious and ten- tl Pheasants were brought over B| )lchis, and deemed at one time arity that one of the Ptolemies lamented his never having , any. Peaoocks were also very 3steemed. ? , n Indian Spiritualists. 0 latives of the Marquesa islands " >rtod to be spiritualists of the ?' [compromising sort. They think . ey are always surrounded by ? which, or whom, they do not ^ long as it is daylight. As soon V dark, however, they are in mord of ghosts, never venturing out P Then they go in pairs, or by ives or sixes, imagining that, if ei )ad spirits may seize upon and lem off easily and suddenly. It al >osed that such spirits are in e' of human sacrifices which they ^ liable to procure wLiiit: >n the When a native dies, his spirit B' ito a ghost, it is thong lit. and re- 11 a the place where ho lifts lived. 1 or it?can find no human sacri- n is obliged to depart to Domicile wildest and most sterile of all nds, and from there leap into the ^ he can never come back to earth, the olose of his ghostly career, h itives also have mediums who " ) have power to summon aiul con- h irits, and as they are intensely c itious, the mediums tliere, as a d a good business. Tbe priests p ally the mediums, and they inter- s< the mysteries of the invisible t] 0 the ignorant laity. They make a jrofessions of sanctity, manage k r savages exactly os they choose, e never exposed as arrant im- fi A Useful Table. v often useful to have a few apate data to deduce weights nud " es from. Here is a corrected ci rhich, however, does not aim at tccuraey, but may serve to make s< 1 estimate when it is necessary to measures: A pint of water weighs . 1 ?,1 I l ~ \ L II puuuu, HUU 1M trijUUl LAI uuuuu Reven cubic inches, or ft pquare ee inches long, three inches wide o: ee inches deep. A quart of water nearly two pounds, and is equal juaro box of about four by four cl ind three and a half inches deep, li n of water weighs from eight to h mdfl, ascording to the size of the and is equal to a box six by six square, and six, seven or seven b alf inches deep. A cubic foot of qj weighs nearly sixty-six pounds correctly 6ixty-two and a half ), and contains from sevea to u ;allons, according to the kind of used. A peck is equal to a box s y eight inches square and eight tl deep. A bushel almoBt fills a box ti by twelve inches square and four inches deep, or two cubio ji i. barrel of water almost fills a b 5 by two feet square and one and a feet deep, or five cubic feet, ? mm barrels contain forty gallons, rly five cubio ieet.?ManufaO' o nd Builder, r mmtmL- * 1 FOB THE YOUNG PEOPLE. the st times Topsy'a Than itacl vine. Mai Topey was Win's kitten. She sat all J1 lumped up in the cellar-way, watching ^ the plump speckled hens, which hung ?ntsid there by strings tied around their yel- broom !ow legs. Only yesterday she had w^ere tl>AnA/l 4-V?anma Kflno of f.VtA P&P3i 1 yLkOOCU IUOOO OUUiU U^ilo mwvuh vuv - rod jumped at them from behind the ,eot :ose bushes. Topsy shook her little *?P lable head. "Ob, my!" eaid she, and Co 111 ihen gave thanks that she was not a tlie owl. black Just then Win's mother stepped down '" >n the stairs and took one of the hens. ?u Dopsy followed and saw her lay it on a m. f joard and begin to "dress" it. Topsy Tnani bought it more like nn-dressing it? **aggt feathers jerked off, legs and head cutoff; ind when the sharp knife began to cut j<j, t open Topsy ran away horrified. ' What a dreadful observance Thanks- Fiji jiving is 1" said she. eratioi However the odor of the various bak- social ngs and stewings was delightful there Copsy spent the afternoon in the kitchen if Ayii ocking-chair. Frequently Win came in wh ind gave her a hug and talked to her of rable1 he good things they would eat to-mor- rehitic ow. Topsy's views of Thanksgiving will cc cere considerably changed by evening ; clouds >ut it was the evident hungriness of the vows ? rhole family, I think, which caused her Lyttoi o take the step she did. this sc Under the stove, where she lay, she low, w lad a good view of Win's papa and wings, aamma. She seized the moment when by the he former sneezed his spectacles off, ferent nd the latter dropped the seam-stitch ?ns an a her knitting-work, to walk across into who w he dark corner by the pantry door, out to hen, with one backward look and a ont foi oft leap, she was in. his sni Under the broad Bhelf stood the mo- ond-flc asses jug and the vinegar jug, and be- sill to iind them Topsy snugly hid herself. prosai< Ihe was so black that no one could see routin< ler in the dark corner unless they looked what si ery sharply. anoesto In a little while somebody said, onewl ' Well, we will turn the cat out and go would d bed." streets And then Topsy heard a soft, persua- ?* busi ive voice: "Kitty I kitty! kitty!" an? Jut she didn't stir. eqoaU: '?Kitty, kitty, kitty P Perhaf In vain. rambl< 14 Well, I thought the cat was in here, *he ski rat I guess Win turned her out before a cert? e went to bed." great* Topsy purred so loudly?it was her the' ray of laughing?that she was afraid of There eing heard. But presently the light vemen ras put out, and the house grew still, powerj Ihe waited until ehe oould hear some- cyaD^ iody snore, and then crept out. She ?* 8U? Tifiw -wliPTfl her favorite dishes were, 'nre th or she had watched when thej were er w^e et away. She sprang up on a shelf and melled about daintily, till she found the aU(* ar< (latter of roasted chickens. She tast^J or that lie delicately frowned wings, the ^7 P4^ reast, and the tender side of the last mj tie ate heartilv. Then she partook of drawbf ae squaBh and pumpkin pies, eating out trifling ae insides. Then she nibbled the crusts ad^wt f the mince and apple pies, then tasted P?ssesf ae cake then lapped a little cream from strikin, le milk pans. " which By this time she was too full to swal- detecti )w another mouthful, and she jumped picture own to the floor and looked around for *ne ^i1 nice Bleeping-place. She found a above rawer partly open, and the ironing- P heet in it made a nice nest, and so she feelhig urled down and went to sleep, sure of Londo: er Thanksgiving dinner. ove: In the morning she was awakened by t?rs ar >me one making the kitchen fire. She co ly still, not daring to crawl out, for she lo?kou new very well what she had done, these c 7hile she was thinking about it, Win's w^om lamma came into the pantry, and see- ?at"d tt iff the open drawer, shut it. 6ocietj Topsy forgot and was just going to w?rthj lew to be let out, when she heard mala exclaim. " Well, I do declare I" ?<TTT1 L_X?_ il 0? I A W JQUt b liio illtttbCf i oaiu iiv/iaa le kitchen. / "1I "Just look liere !" Tina Papa came, and not only looked here, ' which ut looked there; and then Topsy heard throng im say, " Where is the little brute ?" carf> ai "In the kitchen, I presume," said telligei lamma. }[ fei "Just let me find herl" said papa, orfC^ ireateningly. JJ? They looked all about, but no black . ,. . itty could be found. When Win came ' own they showed him the spoiled pies jQ wj] ad gnawed chickens, and he said he ?arff0 r ould thrash that kitty as soon as he 3uld catch her. When Topsy heard ~uace lat she was more than ever afraid to ? r?r' to qu By-and-by everybody went to church; thorou, ad then Topsy pushed her way to the advant' :ont of the drawer, but it was shut man< h ght. So she crept back again to her bis bU? est and tried to go to sleep, but the guage, rdor of the roast turkey came through 0a6t { le crack of the drawer, and kept her WOrds, wake ; then she heard people come heard,' ack from church ; and in a little while sprang le knew by the sound that thev were fright rawing up to the table. Aftar that the prompl ible was oleared, and she knew that aplunf elicious things were brought into the throng antry. , after h " If I conld only get out now I" sigh- ana wh i Topsy. the tail In the evening there was a little party, person 3 Topsy knew by tne souna. one mew- ana a j I some bnt no one heard her ; they wagon, ere all too merry and noisy. _ promp Then Topsy began to think that being the in: iut up in a drawer was a worse punish- clothes tent for stealing than being whipped. . 'he whipping would have been over so inch sooner. jn f Thinking made her sleepy, and she jjewarl >ok a nan. When she awoke the house raj?niei as still again, eve^body having gone i^gg, ) be J. By this time she was terribly roa(j a ungry. She didn't care a straw for the jje ; thrashing " Win said he would give commi er, didn't even care if she was drown- ehiidre il, and began to mew, softly at first, BQB8y ad then louder and loader, until Win's ^ an apa bounded out into the kitchen to hn8bai 3e what was the matter, and ran against wag lie table, and then against the stove, uju nd hurt his knee so badly it made him merCy nock a chair over. starvin Topsy heard Win's mamma calling :om the bed-room : woman " What upon earth is the matter ?" called I And papa answered,'' I wish the stove ci0Reiy raa in Jericho 1" that h< Mamma laughed, and then papa said, an(| ^ 1 Now where is that wretched little onpra i L 0?> .1 , trlDlG ll1 " Topsy was afraid somewhat again, jmve > olio coiil TOrT nnfrlv. " meow !" I mi.? J. , I XUDir " There she is !" cned papa. | " Where ?" called mamma. ; out jE " How should I know ?" scolded papa money -for bin shins still ached from the bump j jtt]e 0 n the bearth. Ija(] n0 " Meow, meow 1" said Topsy. time U1 11 She's in the pantry again !" ex- roomi laimed pnpa, and then mamma came and t a lamp and they went to look for cjr< er- jail for "Meow!" j They looked under the shelves and ebind the flour barrel, and into the apboard, but no kitten was to be seen. The "MEOW!" task in "She's tinder the floor!" papa cried, age, e\ 1 dismay. brigan "She's in the drawer !" cried mamma, three I uddenly remembering that she shut cooped lie drawer when she went into the pan- were < ry and found tho spoiled goodies. that oi Papa opened the drawer, and ont of lifty imped Topsy right into bin face, whioh convict tartled him so that he jumped back in a va gainst mamma and made her knock off cidenci be lamp chimney. the roe m ? . U-J Art/5 *tt4l/37<n nnrJai* flia ftifflam JLOpajf IUU UIUUCU numj uuuvt uuv uu~u upboard, bat when she heard the chim- sentem ley smash she rushed out, and under murde M ove, -with her tail three or for as big as usual. nma stepped very carefully, an er bare feet over the broken glaei t another lamp. Papa opened tl e door. Mamma took down th i, and punched it at the plac Topsy had disappeared, whil ricked the door of the tin oven o her side of the stove. sy thought the house must t g down, and so she scampered or door so fast that Bhe looked like streak. 10 there 1" cried mamma, and paf id "SG-SCAT!" . then the dock struck twelve, an isgiving was over.?Harriet 1 , in November Wide Awake, rinsr? A Vision or the Future. ing. Patting commercial oonsic as aside, and looking merely i ones, how great an alteration wi be in the ways of civilized being lg is brought within the reach < 0 can buy an engine and some dt cvings. To take the moat poet] >n of life, what a different thin inrtship be when lovers seek th i, as of course they will,, and whe ire exchanged in the air. Lor 1 tried to describe something c >rt, but his hero was a clumsy fa AAMU IAAWM ?MAnA(*A liU WU1U uuu 1CU1U fju iiiauago ui and constantly bad to be cangl] women who loved him. Very dii will be the case when the vigoi d well-trained young Englishman ill take the lady whom he admire fly just as ladies are now take: r a drive, or will, perchance, nrg it when hovering ontside her seo >or window, and will perch on th learn his fate. Then, in the mor 3 part of life, in the ordinar; e of commonplace daily existence Grange alterations will occur ! Oa irs would have laughed at an; 10 bad told them that the tim' come when the throngs in th would have under their feet mei mess who were being dragged U rom their jdaily work ; and it i ? difficult for us to oonoeive thai is in the next century the peacofu srs by the Regent's park will fine 7 overhead suddenly darkened a in time in the afternoon by th< locks of city men who are fiyinj ir homes in the far northwest will, of course, be some incon ce from the general acquisition o i of flight; but then every grea ) brings with it a certain amoun jring. Thus it is terrible to pic e feelings of the quiet household n he learns that a large number o boys have recently been let loose i flying about the neighborhood ; ; the crew of a man-of-war recentI off have bought aerial machine* by appear at any moment. Saol icks as these will, however, b< ; when compared with the vasl ages whioh men will gain from tti< >ion of wings. Perhaps the mosi g of these will be the facility will be given for the pursuit ant on of crime. It is not easy t< > a flying policeman, or to imag unctions to move on coming fron the chimney pots ; but it is per ossible to realize how perfect i of necurity the inhabitants o a will have when they know tha r the metropolis watohful inspec e poised in mid air, and that soar nstables are constantly on th< t. Let it be hoped thatwhei lays come men will not forget t they owe so much, and will re le members of the aeronautics as benefactors of humanity, an< > nf onrlnrincr famfl. Canine Actor Raises a Row. g dog is one of the performers ii , the Milk Vender," a play ii Lina Tetterhom is starring h the country. He draws a mill id is so well. trained that his in at acting is considered an attrao itnre of the entertainment. Whei aedian enters and says, "Hartina, u here?" the dog understand! i is to stand still until Hartins r lover embrace and sing a duet a follows Hartina off the stage, Iwaukee, "Wib., where there is t Jerman element, the play was per one evening in the German lan"The dog," according to ? whose veracity we have no righi estion, "understands Eoglisl; fhly, but having had only th( age of a single rehearsal in Qere became somewhat mixed as tc tiness, not understanding the lan' and, of course, mistaking hii 3o when, instead of the familial (( ITnnh'?o 0*0 T*/vn liorfl 9'' 1u ULCU. CXiiUj aiu jww uv4w t M* "Hartina, bist du hier?" lie for the comedian, who tool and ran. The dog spying th< ter seated in his half moon, mad< ?e for him. The prompter divec h the trap door. The dog weni im, followed by the milk wagor lat was left of the cans. Seizin; Iboard of the cart, some of th< s on the stage gave a strong poll )nll altogether, when up came th< then the dog, and finally th< ter, the latter with the fangs o furiated animal fastened to hi A Story of the Times, he court of quarter sessions, L k, N. J., Henry Bussv was ar i for breabiug into the freight of the Newark and New York rail nd stealing a canvas wagon covei eaded guilty, and said that h tted the theft because his wife an in were without food. Mrs was in the court with a babe ii ns. She wept bitterly while he id was on the stand, and, as h inpr led away, she cried out: dge, iii the name of God hav on my husband, our children ar g." spectators were affected by tb i*8 grief, and Jndge Titswortl iier to the bar and questioned he for several minutes. She sai< sr husband was a stage carpenter at he had workedjin theJersey Cit; house until it closed, since whicl e has been out of work. The: mr children, two of whom are ill nt was due, and the children ha< g to eat, and her husband 8tarte< i the hope of earning a littl with which to buy bread for hii nes. Mrs. Eussy said that sh it seen her husband since tha atil she met him in the' court Judge Tilswoith said he woul he punishment light in view o ;umstances. Bussy was sent fc tendajs. Sicilian Brigands. Sicilian authorities have no eas; attempting to suppress brigand en after they have caught thei ils. At Palermo recently twenty >andits were pnt upon trial, beinj up in an iron cage. So frightens ;he people of the neigbl>orhoo< ily twenty jurors out of a pane appenred, and when eight of tb ted prisoners were being removo< n. tho van by remarkable coin 3 broke down at a lonely place oi id, and the three most formidabli b escaped, two of whom had beei zed for fourteen crimes, including ra and kidnapping. ir Tbe Old Maid or Atlieotu Borne wh??"6 you will and man ia false j jjw His Spain may be moat dire? ' 3' When onoe he has a Belfast, he ' -5 'e Will shortly of her I^jre. 56 Pekin thia Breat and you will ?ee e That Iale of Man moat dearly, n And yet Isay thia Dublin plan * ^ Will Bonen na quite clearly. * Heed not, oh, maid, the sighs and WalM :'a| a Of man, or elae forlorn you . Will rue the time, when feet erect, ne U pun QUI a ffeaen mnni jwu. - ' ? Though you be Hungaiy for lot?, . 'J- There's Norway that yon can Havana thing that's safe to do * With auch a brute as man. ' ?Eugme Yield. : id j* Items of Interest. ,8 On the rail?A scolding woman. "X* rf England proposee to import dried i. oysters from Ohina. o Throw physio to the dogs; ile none of M g it. And it was castor away. -3* 6 Ode to a flve-hnndred?dollar sealskin 'tM ? cloak : " Thou art so dear and yet ?o>p |[ Overskirts are worn long.?Fashion s" Item. Yea, all winter long.? N. Y. There is no better anti-fat remedy than ^ - whisky; it will make a man lean in short / 8 Gloves with buttons and opening at - 'M Q the sides seem to grow in favor with the The Waoo Examiner estimates the ;< 6 wheat crop of Texas this year at 12,000,- y; 0 000 bushels. * J The first steam engine on the conti, ' nent of America was brought from Eng- J y land in 1753. e Seven hundred million postage etampfc'J|Sa b are annually defaced in the Amerinanr".^: a post offices. > A, lisping young lady said she hoped-7^ a to get married before she was- old aB:xm& t " Mith Thuthelah." ^ J Lawyers are never more earnest j when they work with a will?that is, if ~Q fc the estate is valuable. . V. 1 A boy who went after chestnuts on * s Sunday, broke the Sabbath, his rigfifc^H ' leg and his suspenders. ; f Sam?" John, do von think my poetry ^ t makes music?" John?"Don't know, I Sam, but it makes me siok." ^ To a young man struggling with a :.*ajja a still younger mustache, the " darkest f hour is just before the down." ' ! I will listen to any one's convictions, iJU ; but pray keep your doubts to yourself!, 3 j I have plenty of my own.?Goethe, jxM t It is when a woman tries to whistle 3 that the great glory of her mouth is ^ t seen without being very much heard. . "* i Fiesole is one of the few Italian towns ? t which have a right to create nob'eS. A r title of count can be bought therefor 5 In the Irish language, the electric - telegraph is called sgeol abada boitetj * 1 the literal translation of whioh is " news f In a discussion on cremation at v . London olnb a member is credited with the argument: "We earn our living^ " why should we not urn our dead t" ' 9 "Uneasy lies the head that wears a 3 crown." Of courae it does. And this is 3 the reason kings and queens don't sleep I, Willi LULU IX vivnuo VU? ATW # www'* . V'W 1 Herald. 1 A ee wing machine agent, who was very v ra ill, being told that he must prepare to pay the debt of nature, wanted to know ' ! if it oonldn't be paid on the monthly instalment plan. 1 "Is your master up?" asked an early 1 visitor of a nobleman's valet. 4Ye?, * sir," answered the valet, with great innocence ; " the butler and I carried himf, " | up about three o'clock." ! The New York Herald tell* of11 an I Immnmin rnnno lflHv of pprings." Probably her same is Sola? igi| Boston Post Mistake?Sar* Toga,? Boston Commercial BulUlin. Twelve thousand different works have 4*?* been published in regard to the Ameri- / J can war. A good deal of this war literature first saw th' light in Europe, but the balk appeared in the United States. . 3 Not over one person in three has legs jj of equal length, and every roan should A -3 be posted on the relative length of his ^ limbs that he may know which onetor^ P use for short and which one for long.; kicking. When coffins in Bussia are cxrvered; .v ' with cloth, the color indioates the char- ^ 3 acter of the deoeased. If the body is a '*: . young person, crimson is used; if a S 3 widow, brown; if a father, yellow; bat . 3 blaok is never need. 1 "What," asks a correspondent, b " causes the hair to fall out ?" Before . ' "? i we answer we must know whether youf. * $ j are married or single. This is important 3 to a true understanding of thecaae.? , Keokuk Constitution. , ^ ' A young husband who was advised by a ?? 3 hiswife to put on his overcoat to wear ^ ' down town one cold morning, complied *? 3 with her request bv pinning a pawn ^ ticket on the lappel of his undercoat.- - ^ She oould not see through it. Every blade of grass in the field ia a measured; the green cups and the color- ' & ' ed crowns of every flower are curiously %4 r counted; the star* of the firmament ' * wheel in cunningly calculated orbits; ' even the storms have their laws. f French papers state that Gambetta ia ? ' * ? fAt4tinA nf about to marry a wiuow WUUOIUivimvv. ^ ' 88,000,000. If the right-angled and v' * everlasting truth wore told it would i probably be that he was about to marry . ' * 6 a fortune of $8,000,000 with a widow. 0 There were 108 murders last year in ' e Switzerland, in a population of lew than 3,000,000. Capital punishment / e has been abolished in the country. 4 j There were 597 suicides, a greater pror portion than obtains in any other Earo1 pean country. , The largest Sunday-school in the- w j tforld is probably at Stockport, Chester i county, England, with a population of I j only 63,014. The school building cost ; . 8100,000, and has between eighty and* 1 ninety teaching-rooms. Since the insti- , * 1 tution was opened 5 085 teachers have * ? b been employed and 90,804 scholars reg- {>y u s iatered. f ? Some one has suggested that if the?' * inventor of the phonograph wodld * bring out a little machine to be attached' " J to the front door, which would say,'' when the landlord called for the rent, 0 "Como asrniu next month," it would . \ j have a good sale. So it -would ; anu 11 he wanted a name for it he might call it the postponograph. y The ameer of Afghanistan, in the war with British India, will be assisted by ' r most of the frontier tribes. The most . important of these are the Momnnda, ^ whose adhesion to the cause of Sbere i Ali has already been announced, with . 3 16.000 fighting men ; the Afreedees with 1 23,500 fighting men, the Oinksye* with e 29,500, and the Waziris with 44,000. j Along tbfl whole Iiue from the Bolan ' * - pa?s to Kliyber, the tofal number of a fighting men, Belooch and Pathan to9 gether. is placed at 178,000, and probl ably 130,000 of them will adhere to j Shere Ali, and half that number actually take the field.