The Abbeville press and banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, February 03, 1886, Image 6
DISTANCE.
How lonely is this world, and yet how bright
It shines like heaven with beauty's stars
Each soul apart! 'Tis distance mars
The strength, the grand effulgence of our
light.
Distance! a thing abhorred! It is a blight
That chills each heart that loves; it bars
Prom us sweet sympathy and scars
Our minds with solitary, inward fight.
Yet sometimes in our gloomy, lonely night
Wed stars above the clouds do rise
In joyous married harmony,
Singing the music of the skies
UT'.'+k .irarlocHnff rnnstfliiov.
?? ILIA y ,
And charm our heavenward eyos with their
sweet sight.
?J. Edgar Smith, in the Current.
| SILAS SINGLETON.
CHAPTIIR I.?THE VOW.
'Til do it!" and, with the exclamation,
Silas Singleton's chubby hand came
down with, emphasis on the dining-room
table. "I'm only fifty-eight, for a man
is comparatively young at that age, when
his life has been a strictly temperate and
regular one. She's a good girl, and
luckily for mc, perhaps, she's poor. All
girls?especially the poorer ones?place
a proper estimate on securing a rich hus band,
and why should she be an exception?
Jack will be astonished, and a
little disappointed, I suppose; but I
mean to provide generously for his future,
for he is a good boy and my only
living relative. He'll never dream in
what direction the land lies, though. I
~ * II it. ? A.
have guarded my secret so weu umi cvcu
?he don't dream what a brilliant future is
before her." Silas chuckled gleefully,
and sinking back in his chair, closed liis
eyes to contemplate the future his imag- |
ination pictured.
Our friend Silas was a self-made man i
?the architect of his own fortune, as he
was wont to put it himself, who having
realized a competency in the manufacture
of soap, retired from trade to enjoy his
ease in an uptown brown-stone mansion.
That evening at dinner he approached
his nephew on the subject that tilled his
thoughts.
"Jack," he said, as he twisted his
napkin round one chubby hand, "at what
age do you think a wise man should
marrv?"
"Oh, say, uncle; you'll have to give
me an easier one. That is a conundrum
as difficult to solve as the question once
asked by Louis the Fourteenth of France
of a lady, who had passed her eightieth
birthday. 'Madame,' inquired the king,
'when does a woman cease to love?'
'Sire,' replied the venerable dame, with
the most bewitching smirk, 'you must
ask some lady older than I.'"
"Jack, do not try to be funny," was
the comment of Silas on his nephew's
story, who heard the criticism with a
good-humored laugh, as he asked:
"Are you seriously contemplating
matrimony, Uncle?"
Silas evaded a query too direct to be
orrppahlp hv remarking sententiously, "I
J
believe that no man should marry
until his character and habits are irrevocably
formed?until the ripe wisdom
of experience should enable him to guide
with greater safety the domestic bark
through all the shoals and quicksands of
the matrimonial ocean. But every man,
Jack, should obey the instinct implanted
in his nature for an all-wise purpose, and
marry."
"Yet I have often thought, uncle,
that the only reason for marriage as an
institution is, that it enables any fool to
make the life of at least one woman
miserable."
"Don't try to be cynical, sir," Silas
said severely. "Tis the vice of the
young men of this generation, but the
habit sits awkwardly upon you. Have
you never thought of marrying?"
"Uncle Silas, the voice of the young
woman of this generation is uncertainty
of temper," Jack answered with imTkor+nrnhlp
?rrnvit"v
r~'&
"An opinion given with the dogmatic
puppyism of youth. What the deuce do
you know about it. sir? A woman's
temper mellows with age."
"Or becomes more acid with accumulating
years. But seriously, uncle, I
auppose there never yet was a young fellow
of eight-and twenty who had not met
?ome dainty morsel of feminine humanity
of whom he would say, 'There is the girl
I should like to call my wife,' but you
see, uncle, a fellow with the right sort of
heart will not marry the girl he loves
even, unless he feels confident he can secure
her future bevond the reach of poverty."
"You might not be apprehensive of
poverty, Jack. With your salary and
my allowance, you could continue to live
comfortably, I guess."
"Indeed, uncle, you have been more
than generous to me, and?"
"Don't interrupt me, boy. I was about
to add that it has been always my intention
to present you with a check for ten
thousand dollars on the day of your marwonro
"
"Oh, you ain't serious, sir. Upon my
word, if I thought yoa were, I would be
s Benedict within a week."
Without further remark Silas tore a
blank leaf from his note book, and wrote
the following: "I, Silas Singleton, promise
to pay my nephew, John Siugleton,
ten thousand dollars on the day of his
marriage, should the lady be above reproach."
He handed this document to his
nephew, who after a glance folded it
carefully and placed it in liis pocket.
"My dear uncle, you may call me a
Dutchman if I don't demand that check
Ibeforfethe week is out."
j CHAPTER II?THE PROPOSAL.
I "Tell my nephew he must dine alone
to-night," Silas said to his servant, as
lie was about leaving the house the following
evening. He was dressed with
more than usual care, and his stop was as
elastic as a boy's as he ran down the
steps. Ten minutes' ride on the surface
rnil<! wmil/1 Vmvn hrrmcrht him to his <1 <??
tination, but he preferred to walk, and
his thoughts translated into speech would
he expressed as follows: "Silas Singleton,
this is a momentous crisis in your
life. You are about to ask a girl to be
your wife, but don't make a fool of yourself,
Silas Singleton. Be calm, concise
and decisive. Get to the point at once,
and you must be successful."
He paused at the door of a tenementlouse
in West Thirty-fourth street to
adjust his necktic before ascending the
stairs. He knocked at a door on the
second floor, and a clear, girlish voice
foade him comc in.
"Good-evening, Miss Letty," said
Silas, as he entered the room.
"Oh, good-evening, Mr. Singleton.
[Let me take your hat, sir. Mother has
gust gone out to the butchers, but she'll
ibe back presently."
"Surely the Fates are fighting in my
tfavor," thought Silas. Ho was alone with
Letty, and had a clear stage to enter on
his wooing without fear of immediate interruption.
Letty Larendon was not handsome,
(but, like" hundreds of her sister workpug
girls in New York, she was iudus
trious, self-reliant and self-denying.
Silas was not an infrequent visitor to
her humble home. He was her father's
friend, and it was through his influence
that Letty had secured a position
as stenographer in a merchant's
office, which enabled her to support a
widowed mother and a brother many
years younger than herself.
"I hope your mother is growing
stronger," Silas said as he seated himself
quite close to the girl's side.
' Indeed she is,-sir, and I'm sure we
shall never forget how very kind you
have been to us, Mr. Singleton."
"Oh, nonsense! But when she loses
you, Miss Letty, I'm sure she'll miss
you, for you are a model daughter,
and deserve the best reward such a girl
can get, and that is a good husband.
Do you ever think of marrying, Miss
Letty?"
"Oh! there's time enough to think of
that yet," was Letty s langhing re
piy.
"A mistake, Miss Larendon, a mistake,
believe me. Early marriages?I
mean the early marriages of females?is
to be commended. I pressed this view
on my nephew last night, and urged
him to marry. Jack is so far of my
opinion that lie protests he will be married
within a week. Miss Letty, take
my word for it, you will be happier married
to the man that loves you and can
give you a pleasant home. Suppose this
man I speak of loved you to distraction, I
as he does, and that his name was
Singleton, what would you say, Letty?'.'
Unclc Silas had dropped formal "Miss,"
and his hand was laid carrcssingly on the
girl's shoulder. Miss Larenden's embarrassment
would have been very apparent
to her ardent lover if he had been
looking in her face, which he was not,
as he continued: "Letty, my dear, what
do you say to changing your name to
Singleton? You will never have cause
I to regret the Step, for your husband shall
be your slave and adorer. You will
make nic happy; and Jack?why Jack,
although the bov is too bashful to give |
expression to this feelings, will swear
you are an angel."
ixruiti-atfaw nmafia*io fLa aI mon'a
I TV UaiCVCl CUlUlAVilO tuv> VIU lUUil O
words stirred in Letty's breast, she endeavored
to conceal, and it was in a
calm and somewhat faint voice she murmured:
"If you wish it, sir, and if
Jack "
"Why, of course, we both wish it,"
he interrupted, and the infatuated Silas
proceeded to seal the contract with a
kiss. Now his nephew could have told
that kissing is an art that can only be
acquired by patient study of details and
heroic perseverance in practice, and
Silas Singleton's osculatory performance
was not a brilliant success. "With the j
best intentions in the world he only sue- {
ccodcd in reaching the tip of Lettv's
somewhat retrousse nose instead of her
lips, but he left the house as happy as
old age can sometimes be in the perpetration
of a folly.
CHAPTER in.?THE DENOUEMENT.
"Letty, I have alarming news for you.
Uncle Silas is thinking of getting married.
Married means, I suppose, my disinheritance.
Then where shall I be, and
iT'Vini'o nVi I TeViorA clinll VftH T.ft.tv?"
4'Always in your heart, dear Jack, I
hope, no matter how your uncle may dispose
of his fortune."
"Say, Letty, what'll ye gimme if I ;
give ye a letter, an' if I don't tell Jack
that I saw old man Singleton kissing
ye?" It was the enfant terrible of the
family, Lettv's small brother, who had
entered the room, with a letter in the
hand he held behind his back.
"Oh! you bad boy, I shall certainly
tell mother; and?give me that letter
immediately," exclaimed Letty as she
snatched it from her brother's hand.
"Eddie, my young friend," said Jack,
"on principle I object to rewarding an
informer, but here is a nickle, and
travel."
"Now, Miss Larendon," said Jack
when he had closed the door behind her
little brother, "I suppose you are ready
with an explanation."
Letty read the letter very carefully before
she answered him. "Oh! Jack, I've |
made a terrible mistake."
"It would seem so^Miss Larendon," (
the young man said stffly.
"Jack, I don't want you to be absurdly
jealous about your unclc kissing me, when
I'm just going to have a good cry," and
there was a quiver around the sweet, womanly
mouth that instantly disarmed her
lover of all anger. "There, there, that
will do, Jack; and now that you are a
good boy again, I'll give you the explanation
you ask for. Your uncle was
here last night and made a proposal on
behalf of you Jack, as I then thought. He
intimated that you were too bashful to
plead your own cause. Poor man! he
didn't know of our secret engagement;
and when he urged me to change my name
to Singleton "
"I think I can guess the rest. You learn
from that letter that he spoke for himself,
and that he regards you at this moment
as his betrothed."
"That's it, Jack; and, oh! what am I
i _ i OS*
ro nor"Ohly
oue tliia^ that I know of, dear, |
and that is to " and the remainder of j
the sentence was whispered among Letty's i
bangs.
******* j
The rheumatism had given Silas !
Singleton a respite, and he felt in excellent
spirits as he aat in the dining-room
thinking of Letty, when his nephew entered.
"Uncle, I'll thank you for that chcck
of $10,000."
"What?what the deuce do you mean,
sir?"
"Only this, sir; I was married this
afternoon."
"Jack, are you fooling me?"
"Indeed, I am not. My wife is outside
in the hall. Will you receive her,
sir?" and Jack left the room before he
got an answer, to return in a moment
with a slight and shrinking figure clinging
to his arm. As she cast one imploriug
look into the old man's face he exclaimed
excitedly:
"Letty Larendou!"
"Mrs. Jack Singleton, if you please,
sir." explained his nephew.
"Oh! sir, I hope you will forgive
Jack," Letty pleaded as she caught the
hand of Uncle Silas between her own
soft palms. "Indeed, indeed, it wasn't
his fault. I taught him to love me long
airo, but he was too bashful to confess it
until he learned you had spoken to mem
his behalf night before last."
"Spoken in his behalf," the old man
echoed with a look of astonishment.
"Oh! yes, to be sure. So you see, Jack,
I won a wife for you."
"And you will forgive us, uncle" with
a tender emphasis on the word italicized,
"for our hasty marriage without your
knowledge," said Letty.
"You see, sir," Jack explained, "I
was bound to get that $10,000."
"And you shall have it, boy, and with
it a very foolish old man's blessing on
you both."?New York News.
The wife of M. de Lesseps has given
birth to her thirteenth child. Speaking
of motherhood, she ought to be known
as the Queen of Panamas.? Judge.
" WOMAN'S WORLD.
PLEASANT LITERATURE FOR
FEMININE READERS.
Dr. Talmage's Wife.
The wife of the great preacher, Rev.
De Witt Talmage, while she has always
modestly kept herself in the background,
is nevertheless almost as remarkable for
her fine intellect as her renowned husband.
A woman of medium height, with
dark hair and flashing black eyes, and a
face showing great strength of character,
Mrs. Talmage is a noticeable figure
wherever she is seen. She is an earnest
worker in the church as well as a dewi-fo
ond mntlinr otlfl fVlfl dlltifiS
VVfUV/VA " liU UUU. LUWUV>t ^ MUV% vv ?
that devolve upon her as the wife of a
minister of so large a congregation would
! appal any woman less gifted with good
judgment and untiring energy than she.
Mrs. Talmage has, among her other labors,
the charge of a Bible class of 300
adults, to whom she delivers a lecture
each Sunday, which is as brilliant it its
way as her husband's fiermon. She is in
every way a rare woman among women,
intellectual, earnest, pleasing and modest.
? Chicago Journal.
One Woman's Success.
A lady of Spartanburg, S. C., has the
most flattering report to make of her attempt
at cotton culture on a small piece
of ground, and raising tuberose bulbs.
She had 30,000 tuberose sets under cultivation,
which occupy only one-fourth of
an. acre of ground. She has them all
engaged to a Northern florist al, $18 per
1,000, which is a small price. She has
only the cost of fertilizer and miniature
bulbs to be deducted from the nice sum
of $540; this would be $2,160 per acre?
results that would gratify any one. From
?nrno r\f rrrntind TfllSpd t.Wfi hftlftS
"" W
of cotton of 400 pounds each for the first
year, and was tempted to try six acres
the next season; the yield was equally
satisfactory. This 9hows what can be
done by energy, independence and common
sense?the latter always requisite to
the attainment of a state of independence.
It shows also the good sense of working
small farms and giving them thorough
culture. Let this woman's success encourage
others in this field of labor.?
Industrial South.
How She Became an Heiress.
A most remarkable case of good fortune
has come to light by which a servant
girl at one of the hotels in Toledo,
Ohio, becomes heiress to one of the
largest estates in England. Nearly
twenty years ago the only daughter of
General Rutledge Greg, of the British
army, eloped from her home in Sunderland,
England, with Charles O'Conner,
one of her father's hostlers. He was a
handsome young fellow, and Annie Greg
had as pretty a face as could be found in
all England. Furious at his daughter's
disgrace the old general disinherited her,
and until a few months ago would have
no communication with her, tne letters
which she wrote home a year or two after
her marriage being all ret urned unopened.
Young O'Conner and his bride settled in
the county Sligo, Ireland, where he led a
precarious existence. Six children were
born to them, one of whom, Annie
O'Conner, now eighteen years old, came
to this country about a year ago. Her
only relative here was a paternal uncle.
She got work as chambermaid at the
New York House, one of the cheap
hotels here. Last summer General Greg's
wife was taken ill and besought her husband
to send for their daughter. He
finally relented and wrote for her to come
home and to bring her husband and
children with her. They sailed on a
Glasgow steamer last September, but the
boat was overtaken by a terrible storm
and foundered, many on board being lost,
among the number the entire O'Connor
family. The old general subsequently
learned the address of the grandchild
who had come to Toledo, and he wrote
to her to come to him at once. The letter
received recently at Toledo gives the
above particulars and was the first inti?
? i- i _ r 1
mation Miss U'Uonnor naa 01 ner parents
fate and of her own good fortune.
Reform in Shoes.
"We find," said a fashionable shoemaker
to a Philadelphia Press reporter,
as he twisted a porpoise-leather shoestring
around his forefinger, "that women
have virtually discarded fashion in shoes
and I believe it is chiefly due to the
newspapers. You remember four or
five years "ago, when high-heeled shoes,
were the thing? Well, everybody wore
them, even the old women. I knew one
little lady over eighty years old who
wore high-heeled shoes and slippers until
she died. In order to make a woman's
foot look small the high heel was set forward
until it was under the ball of the
foot. There is no doubt that such shoes
are very injurious, and that more than
one woman has ruined her feet by wearing
them. The newspapers made an
-ill-i-.V! J
outcry agamsc uie lasmuu aim tuc pcupic
camc to their senses."
"Do not Philadelphia women wear
stylish shoes?"
"Yes, and they wear very expensive
ones, too. But everything is changed
now There is really no set fashion in
shoes. "Women here are very sensible
about their feet. As a rule they have
small feet, and can afford to look to comfort
combined with style. We rarely put
a high French heel on a slioe now, except
in the case of some one very short who is
anxious to look tall. It is more the
proper thing here than anywhere I know
to wear low, broad heels, set in the
proper place on the shoe, and I don't
know of any street in any city where you
see more stylish girls, feet and all, than
you do on Chestnut street. But low
heels are not all the improvements.
Everybody must wear square-toed shoes
now; in fact, the most fashionable thing
to do is to wear the most thoroughly com
- - J
fortable shoe. Men are coming arounu
to the same idea. Not even the dude
thinks of cramping his feet now. They
have come to the conclusion that women
like men best who look as they had
something to stand on."
A Woman's Gymnasium.
"It is a notable fact just at the present
time," remarked Professor D. L. Dowd,
who is proprietor of a school for physical
culture, and whose record of lifting 1,412
pounds has never beeu equaled, when a
reporter for the New York Mail and Express
called on him "that young women
are becoming more than ever before interested
in physical development. There
is shown among women a marked desire
to become physically stronger. Heretofore
the general idea among them was
that physical culture was only for men,
and meant coarseness and abnormal de"velopment
of the muscles. But now they
are beginning to understand the subject
better. There has been a very apparent
change in this respect among them recently.
Why, the last year I have had
about fifty women, young and old, exercising
regularly here, and more come to
inquire about the subject in one season
now than did formerly in two years'
time."
"What kind of exorcise do they most
prefer?" was asked.
"It ?n't so much what they prefer, but
what is best for them. The only way to
properly exercise is to do it systematically,
and we have a regular course arranged
for this purpose. First, we take a
measurement of the different parts of the
body. Then we generally start off with
chest exercise, then the waist, then the
limbs. Some ladies have a medical examination
to ascertain if they are in
sound condition, or to learn if there are
any weak spots in their body that should
have extra exercise, particularly regarding
the heart and lungs. If any weak
spots are found these are strcnthened
first. From experience we find that as a
rule the chief defects in the constitutions
of the young women of the present day
are weaknesses of the back and waist
and next the arms. Their preferences
here are for chest-developing exercise,
and they seem to deWst most that which
develops the waist?they don't want
large waists."
"Have you any records of what your
young lady pupils have done during their
exercising?"
"I do not keep any, for the pupils do
not like the idea of having it talked
about. But I can give you several. One
young lady who was exercising here became
so strong that she lifted on the
hoalth-lift 700 pounds. Another who
took to vaulting, who was only nineteen
years old, vaulted five feet. This was a
splendid leap for a woman. Last year a
young girl began exercising who was
twelve jrears old, but who weighed
ninety-eight pounds. She began here
because she was threatened with curvature
of the spine. In six months she
grew three inches in height, and her
chest girth was increased in its expansion
two inches, making her chest expansion
four inches. This was remarkable when
you take into consideration that the
average chest expansion is only about
two inches. A young woman about
twenty years old, who was partly
oaralvzed through short-hand writing i
and telegraphing, began exercising a
short time ago and is now quite well and
strong. Special work for every muscle
on the surface of the body is the only
sure way of successful exercising."
Fashion Notes.
Bird jewelry is popular."
Welcome the low, broad shoe heel.
Fleece-lined merino hose insure warm
feet.
England is the home of plush. France
uses fur.
Pink and flesh tints in evening gloves
are in again.
Exquisitely painted gauze fans are
charming, but useless.
Yellow plush is trimmed with either
white fox or dark brown fur.
A Russian novelty is sheepskin with
the fleece left on, for milinery.
Madeira hand-embroidery is durable
and appropriate for undergarments.
Copper and red gold galloons are used
for trimming plush and silk dresses.
*" .. n -I rtrtlrnfo
.Many 01 me uupuucnc jotacio <n^ uvu?
tifully embroidered with Oriental figures.
Braiding in cane pattern laid over
colors is used to trim costumes of serge.
Velvet costumes are plainly made
and are edged with rosary, jet or lead
beads.
Small ruffles of lace or velvet are
secured beneath a tiny knot of real
flowers.
Double muffs?that is, one for each
hand?are concealed in the ends of
mantles.
Fur capes no longer have ultra high
shoulders, and they reach a little below
the waist.
Necklaces and collarettes are again
worn with low dresses, but they must fit
tight and close round the throat.
Metal repousse and filagree buttons
and engraved pearl buttons have cloak
clasps and dress buckles to match.
Shoulder capes have a monk's hood
lined, not very appropriately, with
striped satin of two shades.
Collars of velvet or satin are embroidered
with glass beads of all colors,
metal beads, and also wooden beads of
all sizes.
Satin shoes are made low in the instep
and trimmed with flat bows, or they are
prettily embroidered without further
decoration.
Soft materials in cream color, with
corselet, sash, and shoulder knots of J
rich toned velvet, are favorites with
youug guto.
A charming combination is myrtlegreen
satin, sea-green satin and myrtlegreen
brocaded velvet in a lace-work
pattern over sea-green.
Tea gowns are most exquisite, and so
popular is plush as the principal feature
that it m\wt be used as a trimming, if the
whole garment, indeed, is not made of it.
Every fabric worn by their elders may
be worn by children, but new goods of
French manufacture are being received;
they are in wools and have small figures
of pretty design.
A charming little evening wrap of
sapphire-blue velvet shows great pink j
roses stamped upon the surface and fin- j
ished by a deep fringe of blue chenille, j
tipped with smooth-pointed pendauts. I
Violet and light blue, plum color and
yellow, green and pink, and purple and
red are combinations dear to the eye of
the average Parisian, but they sound fear
fully. In the practised nana 01 we artist
the effect ia fine.
Tailor-made costumes, that ia, those
made by the tailors who make a specialty
of such, and not the dressmakers, who
embellish the dress so that one is justified
in saying their specialty is a bill of
items, continue in the severely plain
style in which they were first made, and
are a boon to many ladies whose patience
is completely exhausted in trying to
keep pace with fashion's frivolities.
Utilizing' the Toppy.
The chief roadmaster of the Freneh j
government railways says the best plant
yet discovered for consolidating, by the j
interlacing of its roots, the loose soil of a j
newly made embankment is the double
poppy. It is more efficient for this pur- J
pose than any other of the grasses and
clovcr usually employed. While these '
will require several months for the de- j
velopment of their comparatively feeble
roots, the double poppy germinates in a
few days, and in two weeks grows enough
* - il -
to give some protection to me ?iopc, i
while at the end of three or four months
the roots, which are ten or twelve inches
long, are found to have interlaced so as
to retain the earth quite firmly. Although
the plant is an annual, it sows itself after
the first year, and with a little care the
bank is always in good condition. In
France the double poppy ia perfectly
hardy, nnd can be sown at any time from
March to November.?Boston Budget.
It i< estimated that Dr. Murray's great
dictionary of the English language will
contain 240,000 words.
-- - .S-, ( ' K'- ' I
THE JOLLY JESTERr
HUMOROUS SKETCHES FROM
VARIOUS SOURCES.
Exhaustive?What She Feared?
What is It?Foolish Fears?Too
Lively a Place?Extensive
Plumbing in His Turkey.
Biggies?"I suppose you have read
that work by my friend Scribbler on the
'Transmutation of Mud?"
De Jones?u0h, yes; I read it casually."
Biggies?"Didn't you find it a very exhaustive
work?"
De Jones?"I should say so. went
to sleep before I finished the first chapter."?The
Rambler.
What She Feared.
"I understand, Mr. Softley," said Miss
Muffin, "that you play the violin."
"Well, yes, Miss Muffin, I?a?try to
play the violin."
1 'That's what I heard. Tou see Mr.
Softley, we are going to have a little
sociable at our house next Thursday
evening. I wanted to invite you, but
ma?she is so very anxious not to give
anybody any trouble?ma was afraid
that?"
"Oh, no trouble at all, I assure you
Miis Muffin," eagerly interposed Softley.
"It will be a positive pleasure to me to
bring my violin."
"Ye-s-s?that's what ma was afraid
of."?DraJce's Magazine.
What is It?
Wc heard a good one the other day on
?well, wc hardly know which it is on,
the lady or gentleman.
The gentleman -was expecting an addition
to his family, a fact which was of
course known to the ladies of his congre
?there, we came near letting the cat out
of the bag?and they of course took a
deep interest in matters.
The day before the advent of the little
stranger, a well-known lady of this city
was passing the house, and spoke to the
gentlemeu, and he, wishing to show her
some improvements that had been made
on his building, said:
"Come in; I want to show you something
pretty."
"Oh, dear," cried she, her face beaming
with delight; "of course I'll come in.
Wnat is it, a boy or girl?"?Emiuville
ArgiLS.
Foolish Fears.
Young "Wife?"There's a gentleman in
the parlor, dear, who wishes to see you."
He?"Do you know who it is?"
Y. W.?"You must forgive me, dear,
but that cough of yours has worried me
so of lot1, m l you lake such poor care of
your health, and?and, you don't know
how anxious I've been, and?and oh, if
I were to lose you, my darling!" (Bursts
into tears).
He?"There, there, dear. Your fondness
for me has inspired foolish and unnecessary
fears. I'm all right; you
mustn't be alarmed. But I'll see the
physician, of course, just to satisfy you.
Is it Doctor Pcllett?"
Y. W.?"N-no, it is not a doctor, it's
a?a?life insurance agent."?Life.
Too Lively a Place for Him.
"Yes, I've oeen up to Chicago," said a
rvnfOAn*rrrr?tt KoaIt in />A1infrTf
XIirili T? uj uttta iu tuv vvuuii j J
"and I kin tell you it's a stirrincr place
nor Jonesville. It made me dizzy to go
through them strreets on an afternoon, an'
a man hez to keep his. eyes open ef he
don't want to be run into. Know how
'tisi myself, 'cause one day I stopped to
look at sumthin' or 'nutlier on Madison
street, when I was knocked down an'
walked on."
"By ahorse?"
"No, but by pedestrians on the sidewalk.
Ef you stop on them sidewalks
yer a goner, sure's shootin'. Nothin'
goes slow in that town. Even the old
people an' cripples git around faster'n I
kin. Why, only yesterday I wanted to
cross some street or other. Before startin'
I looked up an' down to see what was
comin'. 'Bout a block away was several
kerridges comin', but I thought I had
lots of times, an' so I started. When I'd
got 'bout half way acrost I heard a yell
an' then I jumped, an' whizzin' by me
went a peculiar lookin' vehicle with a
man up on top of it drivin'. It went by
so fast that it mighty near took my
breath away, an' as soon as I could gather
a little wind I asked the p'leceman on
the corner what it was that had gone by.
4Is it a fire?' says I."
"'Fire!' says he! 1 should say not.
Ef it had been a fire engine it is taken
yez to the morgue I'd now be. An' I've
a moind to pull ye in, anyhow, for] ycr
bad manners in gettifc' right in front of a
dacent funeral.'"
"That disgusted me with Chicager, an'
I lit out for home by the next train.
It's too stirrin' a place for me.? Chicago
Herald.
A Can-ny Cat.
An old Cat, famous for his Bohemian
habits and philosophical turn of mind,
met a small Boy ana said to him:
"Little Boy, did you ever tie a tin can
to a Dog's tail?"
"Yes, I've done it often," replied the
Boy.
"Well, I know a better way than that
to have fun."
"What is it?"
"Just tie a can of milk to a Cat's
tail."
"Will it make the Cat run?"
"Yes, indeed! It's the funniest thing
in the world. If you were to tie a can of
milk to my tail I'd nearly kill myself with
running."
"May I try it?"
"Yes, if you'll stop the can up tight."
The boy went to work at once and the
can was soon securely tied. Then, with
a sudden jump the Cat started down the
road like a cyclone, a Salvation Army, an
earthquake and a freight train, all rolled ;
up into a grand combination. When the j
careering animal had reached a sequestered
place in the woods he paused and
soliloquized somewhat as follows:
"It's a lucky thing for creatures of j
brilliant talent like myself that there are
so many fools in the world, for if it were
otherwise you would see the moat gifted I
animals starving every day. Now, for j
instance, if that silly Boy "had just one- j
half of my shrewdness and ingenuity I
never could have gotten this can of nice
milk with so much ease. Moreover, I've
gotten this prize honestly, for it is simply
me iriouce mat genuia uauuis u* mcmw
rity all over the world. There is nothing
on earth like solid brain power. It's a
tempting subject, and I could spin out a
fine essay on it, but I must forbear. I
must tiy this milk. I am tired as thunder
dragging that heavy can, and my tail
feels as if it had been unscrewed just
back of my ear." With these words the
Cat impatiently opened the can and found
that it was filled, with mustard instead of
milk.
Moral?This Fable illustrates the imprudence
of premature rejoiciug, and
teaches that all the pretty day dreams
- .-' * ' ;:..- - .; ;
??I
WORDS OF WISDOK.
The plant of happiness cannot thrirt
without the air of cheerfulness.
Organizations may chancre or dissolve,
-:p; .ss> p .
and illusive fantasies did not pass away
with Aluascar and Malvolio.?New York
Herald.
Extensive Plumbing in His Turkey.
Purchasers of food in some of the
downtown markets are not always sure
of what they obtain. A tall man of middle
age went up to a market stall two
eveeings ago and began to examine the
display of turkeys and chickens.
"Did you wish a large or small bird,
sir," said the proprietor, persuasively
waving his hand toward an extensive
array of turkeys of all sizes.
"Well, you see," said the buyer, confidentially,
"I thought I'd give 'em a
good solid dinner at home, and the
family's pretty large, so I need a good
deal."
"That's right," said the dealer, genially,
"we have a fine line of young holiday
gobblers. Here is a beautiful bird,"
he added, taking down a large turkey,
"weighs twenty pounds without trimming;
nothing better in New York,
large, delicious and economical."
After some bargaining and proof of
the weight, the head of the large family
made the purchase and departed with a
light heart and a heavy turkey.
The next morning, as the dealer in
fowls was counting his gains, his customer
appeared, wearing a rather sour
expression, antf laying a two pound section
of lead pipe on the counter he said,
deliberately: "When I buy a turkey I
most generally expect to do the stuffing
myself; any way not have 'em plugged
up beforehand. I want to know how
you explain that pipe which my wife
found in the turkey you sold me last
night."
"You say you found this in the turkey?"
inquired the dealer, examining the
lead with great apparent interest. "Well,
it's really remarkable what a healthy
turkey will eat, but, my dear sir, you
can't expect me to know just what Connecticut
farmers fatten their poultry on,
can you."
"Oh, you can't fool me like that,"said
the angry purchaser of lead pipe. "You
stuffed that pipe into the turkey to make
it heavy, ana you're a fraud I"
"See here, my friend," said the dealer,
i *v\v\?nnni tta! v* 1/ * r? ^ a rrn?? Viia naimfor
liupreMiruj, icauiug JUQ WUUIVI^
"what is the matter with that bird?
Don't its pipes draw well? Isn't the
plumbing in that turkey good? Aren't
the sanitary regulations perfect? And
yet when everything ^bout that turkey is
A No. 1, and the drainage fine, you come
around here and tell me I am a fraud.
The trouble is you want too much, but if j
you think you can come in here and get j
a whole gas main with a twenty-pound
turkey, you're mistaken. Now get right j
out of here, or I'll put a lead pipe into
you."
And the victim of the heavy weight
turkey didn't wait to talk any more, but
he hurried sadly away.?New York Tribune.
The Flight of Wild Geese.
Their rate of speed varies somewhat,
under different circumstances, and seems '
not to be very accurately known. But
though their flight is heavy and laborious,
it is generally swift. Watching a
flock of forty or fifty of these large
waterfowl as they went flying over this.
city on their journey toward the "land of
cotton," their motion as well as their
wild goblin cries could he distinctly
marked. The flock, which was not
formed in the customary triangle, but in
a great irregular curve, was still led by
the old gander, and his deeper note could
occasionally be heard amid the din of the
wild, reedy voices of his gobbling. He
I may have been cautioning them to keep
j well together, and promising a good time
| ahead if they all kept bravely to the
work?and the ladies of the company, as
is apt to be the case, were all talking at ;
j once, and eagerly giving all sorts of
goosey assurances. But the interesting
thing to note was the speed of the flock.
They sped on through the scowling sky ,
at a tremendous rate; much faster, ap- ,
parently, than that of the fastest railroad
train. ,
And these loquacious geese swept on
like the wind?their long necks stretched
out straight ahead, and their gurgling,
reedy cries sounding almost continuous. ,
Those cries, perhaps only three days be- ,
fore, had blended with the fierce trumpet ,
blast of the shrill northwester, as it
swept far and wide over the snow frozen
wastes along the shores of Hudson's
Straits?or even, it may be, of the lower
part of Baffin's bay. For there seems to
be no reason to doubt that these large,
strong birds, in their lon^ migratory
journey, fleeing from the wintry wrath,
ri/\ roailtr ftppftmnlish SOft or 600 miles a 1
day.?Hartford Times.
Kentucky Race-Horses.
Forty years ago the most distinguished
citizens of the State were engaged in
writing essays and prize papers on scien- j
tific agriculture. A regular trot 1
ting track was not to be found in the i
whole country. Nothing was thought of i
the breeding and training of horses with i
reference to development of greater 1
' speed. Pacing horses were fashionable; 1
and two great rivals in this seductive 1
gait having been brought together for a 1
trial of speed, in lieu of a track, paced a 1
mighty race over a river bottom flat! We l
have changed all that. The gentlemen j
no longer write their essays. The trot- I
ting horse will soon, undoubtedly, bead- 1
mitted to manhood suffrage here, much 1
as beef once won the spurs of knight- I
hood. He has already, even without the i
right of voting, been styled the first citi- 1
zcn. The great agricultural fairs of the ?
State have modified their exhibits with f
reference to him alone, and fifteen or i
twenty thousand people give afternoon I
after afternoon to the contemplation ot \
hi9 beauty and his speed. His one rival f
is the thoroughbred, who goes on run- 1
ning faster and faster. By-and-by time <
will be no more. One of the brief code 1
of nine laws for the government of the i
young Kentucky commonwealth that s
passed in the first legislative assembly c
ever held west of the Alleghanies dealt
with the preservation of the breed of
horses. Nothing was said of education.
The Kentuckian loves the memory of ^
Thomas Jefferson, not forgetting that he i
once ran race horses. These great inter- ^
ests, not overlooking the cattle interest, <
the manufacture of whisky, and the rais- i
ingof tobacco, will no doubt constitute i
the future determining factors in the his. t
tory of this country. Harper's Magazine ^ s
His Impression. e
if
Dressed in his best he went to the riuk, 1
(The lady sits at her lattice, alone), 1
Causing the hearts of each maid to sink, I
(Oh, surly dog that munches a bone!) (
Dashing aliout through the reckless throng. ,
(The oyster hums in the drowsy stew!)
He sings to himself a gambolier song, f
(To life the clam biadeth a fond adieu?) i
"I am bound to make an impression." (
The best laid plans of men and mice?
(Oh, woe to nim who believes belief!) 1
Will come to naught on the treacherous ice,
('Tis arnica that brings us surest relief,)
My hero fell from his high estate?
(The painter's art, fair Nature mars!)
Joined together were hat and skate, *
(Could the heavens hold so many stars?) f
And I think he made an impression. ,
?Chicago Sun. 1
but when parties cease tcT exist liberty
will perish.
In the opinion of the world marriage
ends all. The truth is precisely the reverse;
it begins all.
Endeavor to be cool and steady upon
all occasions; the advantages of such a
steady calmness are innumerable.
Don't expect your mill to bolt, doubleextra
wheat flower if you never pour anything
but coarse corn into the hopper.
There are persons that it is not safe
to hold out the olive branch of peace to,
unless you have a club in the other hand.
The more a man knows the less he is
apt to talk?discretion allays his heat, and
makes him coolly deliberate what and ^
where to speak.
The happiness of the human race in this
world does not consist of us being devoid
of passions, but in our learning to
command them.
The difference between pride and vanity
is, that one has a capital and the other
has not. Vanity was never known to
pay a cash dividend.
While circumstances may often make or
mar a man's life, we may often make the
circumstances. The only way to conquer
circumstance is to be the biggest circumstance
on the spot yourself.
Postmasters and Their Salaries.
There are about 60,000 postmaster? in
the United States. Those belomrinfir to
? tj o
the first, second and third classes, who
are appointed by the President, by and
with the consent and advice of the Senate,
comprise considerably less than onetwenty-fifth
of the whole number. According
to the last adjustment of salaries
made in 1884, the exact number of post'
masters in the three highest classes was
2,292. The remaining twenty-four twenty-fifths
of the whole army of postmasters
are appointed and removed by the
postmaster-general. By the act of March
3, 1883, postmasters arc divided into four
classes: Class 1, including thosQ
whose salaries are $3,000 or more; class
2, those with salaries under $3,000, but
not less than $2,000; class 3, those with
salaries under $2,000, but not less than
$1,000; and class 4, those with salaries
under $1,000. The salaries of the first,
second and third classes are graded in
agreement with an established though
somewhat arbitrary scale founded on the
gross receipts of the office. Thus, to
entitle a postmaster to rank in the first
class, with salary of $3,000, the gross re- _
ceipts of his office must exceed $40,000
annually. In offices where the receipts
are larger the salary is increased until the
gross income of the office is over $600,
000, when the compensation of the postmaster
is fixed at $6,000. The only exceptions
to this' rule are the salaries of
the postmasters of New York and of
Washington, which have been fixed by
special enactment?the former at $8,000 ,
and the latter at $5,000. Beside the
postmaster at New York there are but
five of these in the United States
who receive $0,000; these are the postmasters
at Philadelphia, Cincinnati, Boston,
St. Louis and Chicago. Two only,
in addition to that at Washington, have
$5,000; these at are San Franciscp and
Baltimore. All the others range at
lower figures. An office with a gross income
of over $8,000 entitles its postmaster
to rank in the second class, with
salary of $2,000, from which point
it is graded upward to $2,900,
with income at $35,000 to
$40,000. The third class fixes the
minimum of receipts at $1,900, salary
$1,000, and maximum at $8,000, salary
$1,900. The compensation of postmasters
of the fourth class is based upon
box rents collected at their office and .
commissions upon the amount of canceled
postage aue stamps and on postage
stamps, omciai stamps, s tarn pea envelopes,
and other revenues, exclusive of
commissions on money-orders and postal
notes, at the following rates: On the
first $50 or less per quarter, 100percent.; 1
on the next $100 or less, sixty per cent.;
on the next $200 or less, fifty per
cent., and on all the remainder forty per
cent. The salaries of all the postmasters
are adjusted by the postmaster general
once in two years, but special cases may
be adjusted at any time. For, whenever H.
the quarterly returns of any postmaster
of the third or fourth class show that the
salary allowed is twenty per cent, less '?
than it would be on the basis of commission,
it is the postmaster general's duty
to increase the compensation without
waiting for the biennial readjustment'?
Inter-Ocean.
The Lost Watch in the Wheat Field.
A gentleman recently told me this singular
incident of his own experience. In
the spring he was returning to his home,
and as it was growing dusk he took a *
short cut through a wheat field. On
reaching the house he found that he had
tost his watch. Remembering he had
looked at it to sec the time shortly before
crossing the field, he procured a lantern
and retraced his steps, hoping to
Snd the missing timepiece. But all to
no purpose; it was nowhere to be found.
Months passed but there was no trace of
the watch. Just before harvest, however,
tie accompanied several friends to the ,
wheat field to show thcra the unusually
ine development of the giain. Noticingsomething
bright amid the waving wheat, (
le approached the spot, and, to his
tmazement, beheld his watch and chain
lupported by the slender stalks. He had
n some inexplicable manner dropped
? ><? ?Vinin it- had follpn 11TV?T1
JKJ UI . V* dlV/U OKU V1&44AU , J v uivvt atMAwaa %.^WM
;he young wheat, and had been borne
iloft by the lusty growth of tile cereal,
[n spite of rain and sunshine, and 4<the
;vening dews and damps," it had not
?een materially injured. The wheat
vhich upheld it has been carefully prelerved
as a memento. ?New TorTc Commercial.
Powei of Tidal Waves.
The enormous power of ocean tidal
vaves has frequently been illustrated,
lotably when a United States war vessel
vas carried two miles inland on the coast
>f South America and left stranded there.
fresh iustancc, even more remarkable,
s reported from Batavia as a result of
he Krakatoa earthquake, wfiich was the
supposed cruse of last year's red sunsets.
Jreat masses of white conil weighingsevsraj
Ions, some of them estimated at from
hirty to fifty tons in weight, were torn
:rom their rocky beds and carried several
nilcs in shore. The war vessel was light
enough to float, and it only reouired suficient
depth of water to carry ner inland
or two miles, but these masses of coral nust
have offered great resistance to the
>nward flow of the wave. The story of
;he great convulsion of nature has still to
told in its entirety.?Philadelphia j
Ledger.
tl ?? ?
The electric light has been successfully
ippliedat Woolwich, England, to photographing
the interior of a cannon. Such
nctures are expected to reveal the pres- ^
;nco of flaws.
! i ii - rma