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' p.. >. FAITH AND WORK! >XG answer comes to those who pray, And idly stand And wait for stones to roll away At God's command. He will not break the binding cords Upon us laid If we dejieud on pleading words, And do not aid. When hands are idle, words are vain To move the stone; An aiding augt-1 would disdain To work alone Eut he who prayeth. and is strong In faith and deed, And toileth earnestly, ere long He will succeed. ?J1 0. Rockwell. ?? /M A TT-n PTI/N TTTT\ UUJNIS'lWS UUUitTSHJUf. John Gordon Anncsley, Earl of - 'o:iiston, sat in the cabin of the Brigh.'H boat, reading his evening paper, lie had just folded and put in his pocket a long letter from his Jriend and partner, Sir Campbell Fruzcr. in which that gentleniau announced that affairs at the Ranch of San Kosalie ttc:c going on perfectly, but that he must beg his "deaf old ja k ' to put off his sailing date just a fortnight, as he now found that he could not be in New York possibly before the closj of the month (October; or later. Coniston was in the midst of a frown over this piece of intelligence as he glanced over the paper, lie hated America and the Americans; he longed to put the sea between himself and this <HonlA.?L-iniY vnortiA/1 f/\r lit I I. IV.'U ? UV JVUIHW4 ?Wi "shoo'inir"' ami the Highlands; lie scorned the gayeiies of all the American watering places, and stopped at the Pavilion?solely, as lie openly avowed, because Brighton was an English name for a place, and f >r the other rea.-on that ! here he was within an hour of Pier 08 j North Kiver, ami could step 011 bo:!id a | Guiun boat at almost a moment's warn-1 ing. ( oni^ton. therefore, chafed under the infliction of an additional fortnight in the laud of his loathing. Albeit the R;ncli of San lJosaiic was adding a considerable number of thousands to his in- . come, he still?just at this particular moment?wished it at the bottom of the RtdSea. Perhaps, too, he mingled with the af- ' fiiction>of the exile some memories of Lad.? Cicely Howard, and the strange penchant he had had tor her during the last London season. However this may he. Common's vacant 1 eves at this juncture took in a very neat little figure as it advanced inthecabiu: it was followed by another?a plump, middle-aged lady's figure, much burdened with shawls and wraps, and evidently in deadly peril of n|urau?ht. for before seating itself, both the neat littlefigure and the plump duenna examined carefully the fastenings of all adjacent ! windows. "This one seems tightly closed, Aunt Doriiida," the girl said, iu her clear, light voice. i "II >rrible American tone, calculate d to lacerate a fog!" mentally commented his ( lordship. '\No. Tolly, no; I am sure " 'Tolly 1 ve gods!" soliloquized the 1 earl. ''Suggestive only of comic opera, | milkmaids and parrots. And she lias \ shi'rt hair!?he never could abide a shorthaired woman. And she was small. Small women had always, from youth up, constituted his pet aversion! Dressed in brown; brown as a color was distressing, in fact it was no color at all!" C'oaistoii hail al! his nation's prejudice in favor of brilliant hues. She is alert, bright, vivacious; all that a wuman should not be; what a contrast to Cicely, who was the perfection of * n ? _ -1 _ _i J languor, dreaminess auu repose:?aim yet Cicely was sometimes rather of a bore. He wond red if this you;ig person was a bore? Now that he in>pected her. lie j observed th;itshe had a certain reticence i of face and manner that was wholly unAmerican. She had see !>im looking at , her, of course. By Jove! wlie.e was his paper? on the floor! and yet for some inscrutable reason she did not return his gaze s.juaiely out of tho-e large eyes ol hers. It was strange! It struck Conis- j ton as a remarkable fact, worth record- J ing, ti.at he had encountered one American girl who declined to reciprocate the delicate attentions of his eyes. I "Why! there c.ime Bradford! such aj cauitai fellow for an American. Bradford knew her. She smiled at Bradford, and allowed ; him to sit beside her, aud gave him her j wrap to hold. To be sure, Coniston remembered that . he had always thought Bradford very 1 much of a cad, and not a nice fellow by any means. And Bradford held her wr.tp.and they \ all went off the boat together in the : friendliest sort of fashion, with the maid ' trotting after ihein with the satchels and dogs. No. he had always had a special aversion for that Bradford! And as for small : women, with short hair,dressed in brown j ?well, his disgust for them was not to ' be measured by any language. Neverthlcss, as Coniston wilily argued . with himself, "a man must till up h;s ; time;*' so, in an off-hand way he just in- 1 timated to Bradford that he didn't care? j if the opportunity offered?if he did in- j troduce him to Mrs. Waddle and her niece, Miss (Jrey. Bradford was apparently magnanimous; ! besides, he had never presented an earl j to Miss Grey before?and he did the deed with satisfaction to himself at least. Aliee C.rr>v V>nu-f>d slnwlr tn Pnni>;tnn and then she turned her attention to a group of lady friends sitting near, leav- i ing Coni-iton to the agreeable knowledge that he was at liberty to salute her the next t in:: he met her on the piazza or the corri lor. It didn't satisfy hitn. He went off and smoked a cigar, and conjured up Cicely in the fragrance of the II ivana. liven Cicely did not seem to b >as complete a boon as he had fancied she ought to be. For five days he wandered up and down, and round and round the hotel, "lounging" he called it; but the more correct term t<> describe these peregrination; would be?politely chasing I'olly Grey. Filially he beheld her alone. .Neither aurt nor Bradford n?>r friend*?heaven be jiiai-ed?were anywhere about. lie drew near the big rocker, where she sat with a book in her lap, and suddenly Coniston remembered that he should have to say something beyond "goodmorning," and for the tirst time in fortyone years he actually wondered what it should be. She spared him the attempt, however, and Rlaneingup, said: ;Ah! good-morning; you have been up in town, I suppose, ever since the day Mr. Bradford presented you?" 'Up in town?" This was too much, when he had followed her like a detective the entire time. Coniston looked feebly at her, and then he laughed, :ind his "fair face flushed as lie ventured to sit down on the piazzastep at her feet. Polly glanced down inquiringly with steady, demure eyes. "No," he cried. "Miss Grey, I've been most of the time about a yard and a quarter away from you; but you never seemed to see me!" "IIow strange!" Polly says, wonderingly. "Most people would have seen you, now, wouldn't they?" "Women always have before," he assents, with a sigh. "Then you must have rejoiced in a change, didn't you? Variety is so pleasant to an appetite jaded by sameness!" "No," he answers; "I didn't enjoy it at all. I'll tell you," he says, looking up at her with wide, clear eyes; "to be l'rank, I liati American women, and you're the only one who ever inspired me I with the slightest " Coniston stops short; there is some-! thiny in his "listener's face that marks an j - unerring period in his reckless spccch. ' Well.' 'she a>ks. sweetly and clearly, " '?the slightest'?" The English language is Coniston's native tongue, but it fails liira now; he feels the warm blood suffusing his face as his mind runs after an elusive woman. "Ah. I see; there are some things so j much better implied than expressed, j lint I am so matter-of-fact that I must translate your mute eloquence, Lord j Coniston " At this instant Coniston . , is lost in calculating how many nriuu'es j i he can stand this present temperature of j his head and face?"into words, or a j word? curios'ty, eh? Come, be twice i frank?is it not so.'' "You miy chris'cn it curiosity, and i call it so, pro tan., if you choose, Miss ' : Grev, buc " j ! The earl again falt.rs, l4Oh!*' crie* the girl, with a little impatient wave of her hand, and throwing j bfir>lr linr nrnt+ir l.lnnilo llMfl ! "how I ! 1 abhor Englishmen! Thcv are so in j! terror of even their m nor emotions. A | ] Frenchman, a Geimaa, an Italian, any * other na'ionality in the world is ready, eager to put his flirtatious propensities into the most delicious language; but an Englishman!''--she shudders?''he stops to wonder what h^ is about to feel, j, and lo! the emotion vanishes! ha! ha! I ha!" j Miss Grey laughs a long, musical, < ringing laugh. , Collision lo.'bs at her, and he won- j, dcrs if he has ever really se n her until ] this morning? She looks like the bright- j ( est part of the sunshine as she sits there 11 in it. mocking him. > , ' Perhaps we do avoid putting what! . you call our 'flirtatious propensities' j , into words; but if you will permit',' m to say so. an Englishman is only too j j ready to speak out that which he really ] lecls 1" j j "Do they ever 'feel' auything outside i < the hunting-Held and the House of Com- , mous?" she asks provokingly. , He sni.les as he looks at her. , "1 will tell you some day." ! ? Not long alter Coa:ston rides with j Miss Grey?a long afternoon ride on the , road l>y the bay and through the woo .Is i, and past the farms busy with their Au- j { tumu fruit-gathering. j ( They chat of commonplace things? i t the flowers, the birds, the clouds, the , blue of sea and sky. and they come home ' ( soberly enough, too soberly, he th'nks. 1 r There is a ball that night, the lust of f "the season." Couiston is not a dancing ^ man, so he has the satisfaction of watch- j ? itig Miss Giey floating about the ballroom i { principally with Bradford. He stalks s out on the piazza, on inant wun lanterns, | ? :md then saunters to the other cud, where | j it is comparatively quiet. ' j Polly sits there, and Bradford?Brad- j fo.id!?is bending above her; he even lias her hand; and now he goes in and I a leaves her. J f Conistou is a madman a* he rushes inti j r the other mail's place, and leans trem- c blinc: over her chair. She 1-. quiet, si- ] lent. j t "It is I." he whispers, brokenly. | a ' I know," she replies, softly. i "Oh. child!"cries he, ''you must listen t to me; I am a good-for-nothing sort of a c fellow; I hive had no religion, no any- :i thing, until I have known you, and now s you are my shrine. It seems to me at t your feet I should lay rare spices, per- t fumes, flowers, jewels?and all I dare lay ( there to-night is a human heart?a ) human life, Polly," he says, lowly, stoop- i ing his blonde head to hers. "Will you c have mef" ! t He sees her face as she upturns it in the flare of the last lantern; it is as ne nas , never seen it?pale, stricken, awful, ' calm. i "Well!" she says, at last, with that c clear, bright voice of hers, a trifle hard, ' c a trifle matter-of-fact. j \ ' Oh, I love you, my soul! mv* queen! i ? I love you and need you,"' crie^he, over- i r cime i>y the sight of her pallor. t "I know,'' she answers quietly. ,lI ap- ^ preciate. value your love; I would not j have it otherwise; I should have been I disappointed always if you had not loved j me. Ah?" burying lier white face in her { hands, ''I revel in it!" c And lie had once thought this woman j , cold, superficial, unlikabie. ] My darling!" Coniston says, reaching ' ( out his hand for hers. I \ "But," whispers the girl, drawing!] away into her silken wrap, "I?I?am j ? engaged to be married to Eugene Brad- ; t ford. I have bi-en for two years!" j i ^ r. , .11 T-t l._.l !...J r 1 Mr ^ ainpocu rra/.er uau iiirivuu iruui i the West. The Arizona was to sail Tucs day, and both he and the Karl of Con-1 iston were booked on her passenger list. | It was Monday night?"midsummer! come again," people said. lounging about! the piazzas of the big Intel?warm, sul- j try, with great banks of blue-black' clouds hovering above the golden rim of ! the west. Bradford was up in town, detained by business as i'?>ni<ton had discovered. 1 I Miss (?rey was sitting at the corner of]' the piazza, llew -nt up to her for the 1 j first time since the ni jht of the ball ".May I sit down?" 1 She looked asseutinsrlv. ''I am going to-morrow in the' 1 Arizona." I W km?w." she answers, whitening. 1 ! He wonders why. and. Heaven help j iiim! he gets up and gofcs away, when i he would rather far have taken the frail, j1 ! vivacious, alert little woman to his heart. 1 j Presently he saunters back. ' Would yo't take a ride with me to- j1 ; night! You know we shall never on ' | earth see cadi other again. Would ! 'you?" Her eyes flash, her lips quiver; she t turns the ring on her linger back and | forth. "Yes," she says, quietly, '*1 will. I will get on my hubit and be down presently." They ride off?off into the green and silent country lanes, where the dew i damps the air, and where the scent of I the homestead flower gardens mingles j with the breath of the sea as it comes to l them. They do not talk very much, nor yet ride fa-t. The twilight is gathering and the horses have their way. Suddenly it grows dark?the blue black clouds have crept over all the brightness of the heavens and hidden the harvest moon from sight. A flash?an instantaneous report, and fj Polly sees her lover stagger in his seat; his left arm falls powerless, struck forever useless at his side. She has her horse beside him in an in- ^ stant; she comes close to his side, while the great rain drops fall plashing down upon them. She takes up the stricken arm in her soft hands, and presses her young lips upon it. "Polly!" cries Coniston, wildly, "do ja you love Bradford?" iai "Oh. no!" she says. jn "Will you marry me?" 8jr "Yes," she whispers. "Now?to-night?this very hour?" ^ jj, "Yes, this very hour if you wish it. j Oh!" cries the girl, wildly, "Jack, I'll i a? be so good to you. I must be. don't I 3jE you see? This?this!" She touches his | arm as he tries to guide his horse and j VinM linr fA V* 1 rr? K/\fVi rtoMn't. I need me like that, and you do; and it is my fault?I ought not to h:ivc come out 87 to-night with you!" *1 "Thank God you did!" "And," she says, slowly, as they turn l'1( their horses' heads, "besides, I?I love Pr' you; is it not strange?" "Very. And you will not regret own- '* ing a fellow as?as helpless as I am, "a polly?" ">fo," she answers, thoughtfully, and fas looking at her by the lightning's frequent ta.r tla^h. he see; the strength, and warmth, ar.d tenderness, and love, that he has need of. 4 Polly," Coniston says, through the boi pelting rain, as they ride buck to Brighton, "it seems to me as if my whole life had been an interrogation point. I and as if you were the blessed answer to sat it." I his And so it fell out that the reverend j Br pastor of St. Mary's wfts called upon to ' voi marry two drenched people that Novem- ; ne: ber night, and that the Earl of Coniston dis put off his sailing date another month, .sir, - Fannie Aymcr Matthews. "n ? it. A Snow-White Ibex. the ' Spfl In the Owl Mountains, Wvom'ng Tcr- ! me ritory, is seen at long intervals a snow or ^ svhitc ibex. One of these rare animals svas recently killed by an old trapper and tiunter known as Shoshone Jack. The wa snow ibex attains the size of the big-horn . 3r mountain sheep,has a coat of dazzling g'c( white and is of the true ibex breed. It is ^jn joth active and powerful, and when iriven to bay is a most dangerous aaver >ary. Its massive horns, with the back- , ward sweep of two feet, are formidable weapons and are formidably used. Some a' years since Tom Anten, then a mountain ? ? prospector and hunter, now half owner j in the noted Bonanza oil spring, Big Florn Basin, came near losing his life in in encounter with a snow ibex in the Jwl Mountains. Tom was in pursuit of Ioa i band of blacktail deer, when he espied J ihead of him what he at first took for a noving snow heap. Soon, however, he I ;aw it was an animal, and a moment later Cle cnew that it must be the famed mountain an ara avis, a snow ibex. The ibex, an old 1 *l: am, was within fair range, and Anten wh it once pulled down upon him. At tbe ?rack of the rifle the animal fell in its s9n mr.lra Hnsfoninnr un to secure the rare n r - )rize, Antcn suddenly found himself co1' onfronted by the infuriated animal. A sb" nost tremendous ''butt" sent the hunter serl lying into the air, and when he struck ! ' he ground the ram was on top of him. ' "tl \.nd now the heavy, curved horns a p )f the furious brute were dashed j ( igain and again against the tnatomy of the hunter. Every bone and me oint felt the fearful punishment. Finally ; the Vnten succeeded in grasping one of the he icavy horns, and dragging himself to finj lis knees, confronted his furious assail- at ' mt. He held on desperately, and was ch.i breed to the brink of a rough and steep ; latl nountain wash-out. Here Antcn sue- i ' :eed'd in drawing his hunting-kuife. Ie m ide several ineffectual passes with ti# ' his weapon, and the closely clasped foes , abl vent down the wash-out together. The i T bex struck the bottom undernrath, and pos he keen and ready blade of the hunter tiar Irank deep of it-; life-blood. Again and h'U: gain did the knife strike home, and the bur ' A l?nn A pncco/^ Will XlOW juu.\ il? (i i'l/lf/ac. ?1 lli.il uiujvu he carcnss weigh'.'d 125 pounds, and he flesh proved excellent eaiing. The )wl Mountains seem to be the only J V joining district in which the snow ibex the s lound. There are said to be a few in jcui ercaiu localities of the Montana Moun- froi ains. dri ~~ and Stock Exchanges. gui It costs $25,000 or more to become a nig nembcr of our Stock Exchange, but the , was harge for entrance to the first stock ex- so i hangc ever started?that in London? lice vas only sixpence. This was in the frie Stock Exchange Coffcs House in Thread- the medic street, where the brokers met, as call hey do to-day, to drink and talk about cou alues. Hulls and bears were not then nue n existence. Mention is mr.de of a Stock ! dro Sxchange inJLondou before the American j hit< devolution, but 1798 appears to have I rod >een the date of the origin of the present whi me. The first meeting place for brokers whi vas the Rotunda of the Bank of bee England. At the beginning of this can :entury $100,030 was raised and a build- ' ng put up and members eh-ctcd by bal- one ot at a subscription of ab >ut $55. When 4 i new member is now proposed for elec- ' ion he must be recommended by thre? aga nembers of not less fha:i four years' standing, who engage to pay $2,500 each anc to his creditors in case he should he de- 1 :lared a defaulter within four years from bu; the date of hi<admission, but if the can- fee Jidate has been a clerk in the Stock the Exchange he requires two sureties doc >nly for $1,500 each. In the first case he the entrance fee is $525, and in the latter wil $:U5, with a subscription fee of $112. A He notable leature of the London Board is frit that there -is no official tariff for com- hac missions, and competition is allowed lull in I play among the brokers, to the great pro benefit of the speculating and investing public. Each broker must h ive a license from the city, the same as a peddler, j which costs $25, but this carries with it mc no ri^ht of admission to the .Stock Exchange. Members arc forbidden to advertise, which deprives the newspapers |1V( of some profit. Dcfaultc-s must have for 1 aid at 1< ast one-third of their debts be- vcr fore they can be readmitted. The Ex nnti^nonni'O laiuu^u uuiuiaiij tu tut iiu ?> >? pm the names of defaulters. There arc about j.<0 2.000 members and about 1.100 clerks. Only SG0 of these members are brokers. xyr( the remainder being jobbers. The wjj brokers can only buy and sell for clients. j1(, but the jobbers can speculate. Thcreve- (jjtuue of the London Stock Exchange is jK); $350,000, which leaves a net balance of .m $200,000. The building debt has al! been paid off. The Exchange is always a in executive session, a3 none but mem- nQ, bersand clerks are admitted.?New York t.j Graphic. ?q The Heated Term. yei When spring-time skies are glowing, J , And cooling breezes blowing. The city man reflects on where he'll spend ok his next vacation; He thinks of divers places, sot And finally embraces rQ. A chance to pay a visit to his countrified relation. ?TidBits. ag BUDGET OF FUN. UMOROUS SKETCHES FROM VARIOUS SO URCES. Peaceable Time?No "Vice Versa"? "Killing" a Salmon?He Tipped the Waiter?An Old Tartar? The Doctor's Etorse. Etc. Lodger to chambermaid?"Mary, this the stillest house I ever was in. The ldlord and his wife must live likeangels heaven together; I haren't heard one i?le sound since I've beeu here." Mary?"That's all very nice just now, \ Smith, but wait till they make friends ain. They quarreled a fortnight ago, d they haven't spoke to each other LV^V. ? kPl&IO J' i "Urt(/WMC WW No "Vice Versa." "Let mc see some of your black kid jves," said Mrs. Snaggs to a clerk at a fth avenue store. "These are not tha latest style, are jy?" she asked when the gloves were oduccd. "Yes, madam." replied the clerk. Ve have had them in stock only two ys.'" "I didn't think they were, because the hion paper says that black kids have i stitches and vice tersa. I see the tan tches, but not the vice versa." The clcrk explained that vice versa was snch for seven buttons, and Mrs. Snaggs ught the gloves.?Boston Globe. a Salmon. 3ne evening W. J. Florence, the actor, , in a New York club room, telling of i exploits on a sajmon river in New unswick. "How many salmon did n catch f'' a visitor inquired. Florence irly fell from his chair at the ignorance played in the question. "Fishermen, sa'd he with freezing hauteur, ever use the word catch as you apply They kill salmon. They never catch j >m." The rebuked listener turned rlet, but made no response. A moot afterward Laurence Jerome, the I her of Lady Rando lph Churchill, and excellent story teller, began to talk of adventures on a sal mon stream. He s describing himself as standing on s. lk at daybreak whipping a "Jack jtt" over the water, when he hooked u ; salmon. '-I was so excited," he said., lat I dropped my slungshot in tho ter and lost the fish." "Dropped at?" Florence asked, in open-eyed onishmont. "My 3!ung.?hot," Jeromu lied. "Why, wh;.t could you do with lungshot at such a time?" Florence in red. "iiest thing m tne wonci to Kill ilmon with," Jerome said, going right with his story, while everybody red. ?Philadelphia Press. He Tipped the Waiter. j.ite in the afternoon we stopped at vcland. Tenn., for dinner, and there incident happened the like of which ad never seen or heard. At the table ere I sat were live persons, one of om I guessed to be the drummer of ie wholesale establishment. The spread i not suit him, and he demanded some d meat of the waiter. The waiter it into the kitchen and reappeared, as ting mere was none mere. 'Oh, yes,'1 interrupted the drummer, leremustbe; hunt around; bring me iece of cold chicken." )ut again went the waiter and returned ;h just what he wanted. The drumr was satisfied and began slashing int:o chicken with renewed appetite; thon paused, dropped his knife, ran lii.s jers in his vest pocket, looked around :he smiling waiter, and then, witho it mging his countenauce, handed the er a?match. 'You see what it is?" 'Yas, sar." won, wnen you get a cigai:, you 11 ds e to light it." "hen he resumed iais eating. It was itivcly the meanest return for aChrisl-like act that I ever saw, but I had to ^h in spite of myself. It was such a iesque on the habit of feeing hotel ters.?San Francisco Chronicle. The Doctor's Horse. ,ast winter a Detroit doctor went to police with the complaint that some mp had taken bis horse and buggy n in front of a patient's house and vcw it around town for several hours . then left the rig in the suburbs. The lty p.i:ty was no: discovered, and one iit about a month ago the same thing j repeated. This time the doctor was nad that he not only went to the po(, but gave the information to all his nds and offered $25 for the arrest of scamp. Sunday last the doctor was ed to see i. sick man in the ntry. lie went out Woodward av2 i three miles and then turned off and ve a mile and a half further, lie ;hcd his horse under a tree about te n s from the gate, and the animal wis isking away at :he first summer flies [in a couple of Detroiters who ht.d n out to see a relative on that road ic along. 'Say, isn't that Dr. 's rig?" queried !, as they drew near. 'Why, of course." 'Some one has been running it off tin." 'That's so, and we'll take it in tew I return it to him." Niey hitched the horse behind their f<ry and jogged into the city, with a ling that a lellow human being owed m a debt of gratitude. When the :tor came out and found his rig gone indulged in such language that the /I i\lnm +rf>r>a ahprl thpir Klnssoms. stiirtcd for the woods, and his two nds. who were interviewed afte:: he 1 limped back to town, are said to bj >ed and dangerously ill of nervous stration.?Detroit Free lJrcss. An Old Tartar. L prominent Maine journalist, forrly editor of a Portland paper, once cti; ed law in Foxcroft, and at :hat le a quaint old man named G mires jd in the neighboring town of G uild. He had a little property, but was y slow about paving his bills. lie aine indebted J'or small amounts to a nber of store-keepers in Dover and xcroft. and they gave their claims to s journalistic lawyer to collect. He Dto several leitirs to the old man, ich produced no effect, till one day threatened tc attach his farm .f he I not call : nd settle within forty-tight irs. This thr.at made the old man II out his stocking, and on the next rning after receiving the lette- he ncared at the lawyer's office and anlnced that he was prepared to pay. low much does it all arnounl; to, uirc?" he asked. Twenty-eight dollars," said the law;'How's that, Squire?" demanded the I man. "You owe Ferguson $6 and Snicker1 $!> and 'uggwson $8, and my charge collect! g is $5." "I did -lot know you had any bill aiust niu, Squire." "I must have my pay for writirg thoM f letters to you." "Well, I declare, Squire, I wasn't calcu latin' on that. I'm a pretty old man, most eighty-two, and it was hard for me to get this money together to pay these bill*. I'm not prepared to pay you." mu- ~ J iL~ 1 ~ 1 AUG uiu UJUU ucggcu cuc Jiw ycr tu icb him off, and after considerable talk the lawyer said: "Look here, Mr. Graves, you have made coisiderable mischievous talk about me. You have gone through the country calling me a big liar and other hard names. Now, if you will go around and see everybody to whom you have made this talk and tell them that . what you've said about me is false, I'll knock of! the five dollars." After rubbing his old grey head the old man answered: "Mr. Pullen, I'm almost eighty-two years old, and too 1 near eternity to tell such a 'tamal lie as i that. The Hon. A. 0. Lebroke, of Foxcroft, once swapped an old wagon with Graves for four cords of wood. Graves signed a contract written bv I.ebroke. to the effect that Graves should deliver Lebroke four cords of merchantable wood. Where i the wood should be delivered was not stated. Many months went by and Lebroke received no wood. Happening in Guilford, he asked the old man about it. "Oh, yes," said Graves, "I've cut your wood and it's as nice a lot of wood as ever you saw. You just come and look at it." He took Lebroke into fhe woo Is and showed him four cords of excellent cord i wood, piled up in the forest. i "There. Squire Lebroke,,' said he, "I 1 deliver that wood to you." Turning to a neighbor who had accompanied them i he added: "And I want you to witness 1 that I deliver this wood to Mr. Lebroke." The Senator had to hire a teamster to haul the wood to Foxcroft. He says it 1 4-Ury ? 4- ? ? A ~ ~ 1 ~ A Ua owa. Ti-na LLLU UiSt UliU UlilV U111U ilC V?Cl *> UO beaten on a contract that he wrote himself.?Lewiston {Me.) Journal. ; ' Rise and Fall of a Steamship Line. Anxious to reap the golden fruits de rived from the carrying of the mails, and < to also show to the world that the United i States was as well able to build and or- 1 ganize a fleet of swift steamers as Great Britain, Mr. E. K. Collius launched his ' company, the end of which was a tragic ] one. He was to receive a subsidy of $10,250 per voyage to home built steam- \ ers carrying the mails of the United ] States to and from Europe, and he began i nobly by constructing four magnificent steamers, the Arctic, the Baltic, the At- i lantic and the Pacific. These vessels were built of live oak planked with pitch i pine, the hull being extremely solid, and divided into compartments, so that, in 1 the opinion of their builders, thev were i all bat proof against being sunk by a collision or by touching the ground. These steamers began to carry the mails and passengers in 1850, and very soon Congress raised Mr. Collins' subsidy to $33,000 per voyage, and fixing the minimum at $*358,000 per annum. The Collins steamers, superbly furnished, performed such runs across the Atlantic as had never before been made; and one of them, the Arctic, after doing the voyage from west to east in a little over nine days, was proudly christened by our hurrahing countrymen "the clipper of the seas." Alas! the s:id end came only too soon. The captains took to racing, and there was no personal mon?irrr.mnnf tn cfnn tliom On flip 9.1 Qf of September, 1854, "the clipper of the i seas" left Liverpool for New York with < 23:} passengers and a crew of 135, nearly < all of thein Americans. When within 1 sixty miles of Cape I'ace the Arctic col- ] lided with the French steamer Vesta; j but deeming his ship not much injured, i the American captain made for the Cape. 1 and before he had got far the water < rushed in and almost immediately the < splendid steamer was engulfed in the < waves. Only fourteen passengers were saved, and among those who perished 1 were the wife, son and daughter of Mr. ] Collins. Sixteen months later came the i still more appalling disaster to the Pa- i cific. She quitte.l Liverpool on the 23d 3 nf .Tannnrv with fnrtv-five nas- I ? senders, a crew of 141 persons, the mails and a cargo insured for over $2,000,000. The Pacific was timed to reach New York the 2d of February, but she never reached that port, nor any port on earth. The loss sealed the doom of the Collins Line.?Boston Hrald. Statistics of the Infirm. Professor P. M. Smith gives the following interesting facts and figures in an article on the "Statistics of Population," printed in the Independent: Out o? 100,000 inhabitants there are: Deaf In Blind. Mates. Idiots. Insane. Total Italy 105 74 05 99 343 Germany.... 87 96 139 ' 88 410 CTr'atBritain 98 57 129 178 4ti2 Norway 136 92 119 185 532 Sweden SO 102 39 176 407 Belgium.... 81 43 50 92 266 Frame 83 62 114 146 405 Un'ed States 96 66 152 182 496 The general result of this table is startling, in civmzea countries ncany i one-h:ilf of one per cent of the popula- T tion is thus confessedly unfitted for the , duties and burdens of life. Outside of these there must be a large number who f either escape official observation or who f are only partly incapacitated in these re- i spects. The comparison between differ- ( cnt countries is also startling, but { conclusions must be accepted guaidedlv j on account of the in uHcicniry of the ( statistics. Iiaiv snows an e-\iruuiuiii;u y ? number of blind: Gcnnnny, of idiots, j probably due to that curse of South Germany and Switzerland, cretini-m. In g Great Britain and the United States in- t sanity appears to be very prevalent, f which accords, I believe, with medical j experience. Some of the numbers are ^ inexplicable, such as the relative pnsi- { tion of Norway and Belgium in the to- r tals, and arc probably due to differences j in the methods of gathering the statistics. Knew It All. * There once lived in the town of Nor- n way a man named Palmer, who was noted s for his homely looks, his mechanical ingenuity, and his witty sayings. He was c a jack-at-all-trades, and, unlike most of L his kind, a master of all. lie operated a | grist mill, filed saws.and mended watches t with equal dexterity. One day a fussy s old citizen,wh > knew too much, engaged Palmer to file liis saw ana srayru ov while the job was done. He volnntcn d so much advice that he wearied Palmer, who said to him: '"Mr. Blank, what you and I know about liling a saw I know!"? Lewiaton (Me.) Jouriial. Odd Names of Illinois Towns. Frog Pond is in Fayette county. Log City is in Knox county. Bonus is in Boone county. Mooushiuo and "Windyville are in Clarke county. Hog Lake and Mosquito arc in Christian county. Sixteen and Goose Neck are in McDonough county.?Chicago News. I ADELIGHTFUL DlTEL.| SPORT WHICH THRILLS A MAN TO HIS FINGER-TIPS. The FirstTront Caught by an Enthusiastic Angler?A Vivid Description of the Struggle Between Man and Fish. In a breezy article on trout-fishing in the Outing the writer relates the experience of a novice at the sport. He savs: And now the neophyte is to test his prowess and his newly purchased tackle. Secretly trembling at the enforced com .'iL - i. _ i. 1 *.!_ jjunauu vvitu mc cosu* 01 veteran ureiuren of the gentle craft, conscious that his guide wait3 to assign him his rank as angler, he takes his rod in the right band, holding the leader, already wet, for an instant in the left, until the hackward sweep of the rod straightens the Line, for he wisely makes but short casts at first. There is nothing close to the shore, save, perhaps, a:i intrusive chub. The reel yields more line, and the cast grows longer. How easy it looks, that slisht motion of the rod which sends the line flying backward until it straightens out well up into the air, returning obedient to the ea>y forward movement of the rod, and uncoiling above the water, until leader and flics drop gently on the surface. The current sweeps the flies a little downward. Theu the leader straightens itself, and the fiiea, drawn easily across tempting eddies and patches of dark water, leave a tiny wake behind. Then suddenly the tension of suspense is broken by a splash and a glimpse of a dark form just behind the stretcher fly. The neopythe strik'.-s somewhat nervouslv. do clmiht hn( nnd lonrlor come dancing back alone into his very face. His speech is plain and emphatic. His excitement is not soothed by the guide's "Thar's no fool of a trout." But the guide does not confine himself to words. He straightens out line and loader, marks down the exact spot of the rise and says: "Cast over him again, sir. You've stirred him up." Once more the line is gradually lengthened un tn me nies stum me water over me very place. One cast 13 perhnps fruitless. The angler bitterly curses his failure to took his fish on the first rise. # Meantime the trout, agitated by the appearance of these morsels just above his head, piqued perhaps by his own failure to comfort his gluttonous appetite with a dainty tid-bit. is balancing himself over a hard, sandy, bottom, his fins slowly fanning the water, his keen eyes turned expectantly upward. Once more these luring flies dance across the water. There is v sudden movement of the broad tail, a quick rush upon the prey, which gives an instant's glimpse of dark mottled black and gleaming vermillion spots at the surface, and then the cheat betrays itself. The angler, every sense on the alert, strikes quick and hard, and a heavy resistance to the bendinsr. quivering rod hallo fKof flifl IiaaIt /I i?! tran V? i-\m n TKfl 1.0..0 H.U,., UH, IWUIV 1>3 W.l.Cll UUU1V. A"Vpalate of the trout is tickled by no choice . morsel, but instead there is n sting of Qiortal agony. Downward through the j clear water darts the fish, carrying that burning pain, while, on the shore, the mgler's reel sin^s cheerily as in derision. "You've hnoked him well, sir. Now buckle yer rod to him!" exclaims the guide. A fair and honorable duel has begun. On one side an eight-ounce rod, a thread Df silk, an almost invisible strand of gut, directed by b human brain; on the other, the strength and cunning of a powerful maddened trout. A littie below are dan gerous rapids. If the fish bolts into the strong current and down the rapids, there is a chance that he may free himself, and at best the neophyte must leap jver the rocks or flounder through the shallows in hot pursuit. There is reason in the guide's advice. i;Buckle yer rod to him." The rod is fcept up well that all the strain of its mrin r? mow Kn folf Kw f fioli A DO ^V? liiajl MV A blV VJJ VUW UOI1. XJLV vwuu ivild rush there is heard the music of the reel,but the line is reeled back whenever i chance offers, and the trout kept to the stiller water as persistently as lhe angler lares. And now there is silence. The fish is sulking at the bottom, shaking his head from time to time in iricious bull-dog fashion,seeking to shake jut the wounding hook, or to rub it out igainst a stone. A turn or two of the aoI l\i*i nrra o Kowlof afrnin fA lionr flnfl :here comes a rush which nothing seems ;o check. The lengthening line cuts into ;he white water, and is swept downward is the fish is hurried away by the current. "Snub him!" shouts the guide, "and :aking in all the line he dares, th; neoihyte brings all possible strain to bear, jntil the rod bends perilously and every;hing is taut. A critical moment, this, :or if you "snub" your fish too suddenly >r too hard, in a strong current, his loss nay not be the greatest of your disasters. Rather coax him firmly, yet with moderition,relaxing your severest strain when ;he weight of water begins to tell. Now, aided by a friendly back set, the ;rout has emerged from the fonm ng vater, and the angler's suspense becomes nore tolerable. Who can explain the exquisite fascina ion of such a struggle? It is almost nf'ection that the true fisherman feels for lis gallant victim, and yet the escape of ;hat victim from death would well nigh jreak the aneler's h( art. The two are n close, fairly electric communion hrough this delicate tackle. The moods >f the fish are clearly read by the brain >ehind the rod. mi 1. j : u ?T UCU KttUU SUCUCCUIU',' I u-)ll m 'tna horter and feebler, when now and then here comes a glimpse of white, as a side lecked with gold is turned up now, that >rain begins to compose a piean of vicory. The plucky trout is nearly done or. His strength has turned to woakless, and his free, wild life in the clear tangeley waters is drawing to an end. Fainter and fainter grow his struggles, is the line, steadiiy reeled in. draws liim. . waving from side to side, toward the hallow water where th? guide awaits him, ind the meshes of the "landing net cut ;hort his last convulsive tight for life. Out pocket-sealc; now! Is it a thre? >r four or five pound trout, this rarely ! >eautif'il prize? Let us give our neo>hyte the benefit of every doubt, and iius fore-tall him when he tells this lish- \ torv in after days. The Amateur Gardener. When rising Sol with brightening rays The landscape is ailorning. And woodland warblers with their lays ( Salute the golden morning, Th. man who owns a patch of ground Is not in slumber snoring; 3 He then is in his garden fonnd, < The beds for weeds exploring. He plants and sows and rakes and ho 3, 1 And waters the tomatoes, And dijrs and sets in hills and rowa The Earty Rose potatoes. I He labors for a couple of hours, Then into breakast passes, And what a pyramid devours Of flapjacks and molasses! His toil may never bring him wealth, But 'tis a source of pleasure, 1 Bestowing on him robust health, . The greatest earthly treasure. v- :-m FACTS FOB THE CCBIOUS. It is itated that oysters tea inches long are found in New Guinea. It takes eight hundred full-blown roaes to make a teaspoonful of perfume. Without the express consent of his wife, no married Austrian subject can procure a passport for journeying beyond the frontier. . One of the most interesting objects at the Nice exhibition is a Chinese clock which is said to date back 800 years before the birth of Christ. There is on the plantation of Captain John L. Martin, nrar Washington, Ga., a pine tree that bears acorns and pine wi'tK rrr*o? linnarfiftl if.v -\ 6- f Some "West Indian negroes carry inake's poison under their linger nail*. A single scratch from a poisoned nait will cause death in a few hours. The Oxford bible is said to be the moet perfectly printed book in existence. It is stated that only three errors have been found in all the Oxford editions of the new veraion. Thousands of Britons in times of famine during the fi st century after the Norman conquest so!d themselves into thralldom. Children were even sold by their parents to escape extreme poverty. Hawks in old times were usually trained by being kept from sleep, it having bean customary tor the falconers to sit up by turns and watch the hawk and keep it from sleeping, sometimes for three successive nights. In a cannon foundry at Eourges. France, electricity has been successfully applied to mechanical purposes for more than five years, two large movable cranes, each weighing over twenty tons, having been worked by electric motors without difficulty. The Hungarian government deters emigration by inducing migration to the colonization of State lands, on which free schools and churches are given gratis: the payment for land is spread over fifteen years, and immunity from taxation granted for a similar period. David Bell, of Pelleter's Mills, N. C., found a very small pearl in an oyster seven years ago. lie wrapped in paper ?r./7 in?*} if in n frimV nnH thp. New Berne OUU ittiu iv AAA W V* v*?.. ... T Journal says that it has grown from the size of a BB shot to the size of a small marble. During the seven years it has not been wet. Ab Before the reign of King Alfred slave* in England could own nothing; under his legislation they were permitted to dispose by will of what was given them or-what they couid earn in their free hours. He forbade, also, any masters who have incurred a fiue or amend from buying off by the s lie of man as well aa beast. ?? ":: lis Character, as Shown by Footwear. A Spanish shoemaker of a philosophic turn of mind affirms that men's characters and dispositions are more accurately read in the way they wear their boots and shoes than in their pnvsiognomy, or even their handwriting. lie says: "'Showma the shoes of a man after he has -worn them two months and I will analyze for you his character. In your shoes, for instance, I see lack of energy, levity, negligence, and a disposition to evade the fulfilling of djsngreeable duties and obligations. The even wearing away of the heels and sole? of a pair of shoes shows that the weacr. if a man, is one of good business habit*, energetic, prudent, of good head, and faithful in the discharge of his duties. If a woman's shoes. are so worn, they indicate that she is, or , is capable of being, a good wile and an excellent mother of a family. If the outer ed<je of the soles are worn away' much more than the inner ones, the ?? m?P*.?K1O oViarnofpr wearer uoo uu uu.nni/n., uvuiv prone to ingratitude. If the inneredges are the most worn, it indicates irresolution and weakness in a man and mcdesty in a woman. A few months ago a ' , stranger entered my store wearing a pah of shoes that were very much worn on the outside edges :>nd at the toes, the latter so badly that they were quite broken through, while the other parts of the shoes were almost new. I took care to watch that mnn while he was near my goods, and when he was gone, ' said to my wife: ''That man is a thief."The very next day he was arrested by the police for a robbery. Messenger Boys and "Overs." A bright and ruddy-faced messenger boy swung himself on to a Seventh avenue car at Park Place yesterday,plumped himself in the best corner and began to ' watch proceeding* around him with much interest. A Tribune reporter questioned him about his work. "I like it pretty well," he said. "Tha pay is not big, but the "overs' are immense. Don't you know what overs are! "Why, it's when a man gives you half a on/1 fiio pJinnri! for liia rnesta<?e is only twenty-five. Oh, my. that's noth- 4 ing. I had a man give me a dollar the other day for a thirty-live cent message. You see, it was to his girl, and he told me particular not to give it to anybody but her, and he told me she was expecting me, and would wear a blue ribboo on her neck,and if anybody came for tha message who didn't have a blue ribbon I was not to give it. Say, that was funny, though. "When I got up to the girl'i house she came to the door. My, but she was a stunner, all silk and lace, but nary blue ribbon. I asked her name, and she said that was her, and I looked right sharp at her neck and said there mu^t be some mistake. She put her had up to her neck and flushed. Then she said: Excuse me a moment,' and away she went. She came baik presently with a blue ribbon on. and a quarter in hei hand. We make about $"> to $7 on the straight. My 'overs' last week were $11. It's only 11 o'clock now. I guess, and I've made ninety cents to-day.''?Xew York Imitation Butter and Tubs. Imitation butter must bo put up in elliptical tubs in Denmark. This is a singular sort of rule, and one which probably would not commend it-elf vei v highly to manufacturers of this kind of butter here. Butter itself having been imitated, it seems logical enough to imitate butter ? tubs also, and all the little cloths and papers and scheme' of packing which set off butter so well. He-ides, imitation butter, which is s> perfect in all its dedetails that it cannot be told from real butter, can be sold mu:h more profitably than it could if it were parked in a tub whose peculiar shape would amount to an open a vowel of the imitation. But there ire some deeply rooted notions in Denmark. and one of them is that im:tation Dught not to be carried too far.?liarver'i Weekly. A Truckee, (Cal..-) dog shuts the doot after him when he enters a house. This habit served him handsomely when he was chased by a mad dog one day. He was in his master's store and up at the window looking at the mad dog before the latter had recovered from his surprise at having the door slammed in his ace. , ? i $ i rvr*