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?"?YOUiCVi |j^|r?ENQUIRER-?1 lewis m. grist, proprietor. J gilt Jndejmident (Jjiimilij Uterosppfr: <Jfor the promotion of the political, ^Social, Agricultural and (ifommertial Jntercsts of the jSouth. |terms?$2.00 a year in advance. .vol. 36. YOEKVILLE, S. C., WEDNESDAY, iYTJG-TJST 13, 1890. NO. 33. ?he ^tor? letter. THE WRONG LETTER. A New "Variation of a "Very oldL Theme. One evening last winter as I was walking up and down the platform at the Lyons Railway station, waiting for the departure of the southern express, some one tapped me on the shoulder. I turned and saw my friend Jacques. "Where are you going ?" he asked. "To"Nice," I replied. "So am I. My wife is there." "Good, we will go on together." i We continued walking up and down the , platform, talking about one thing and another. As we passed before the mail car I said to Jacques, "What a hard life those 1 postal-clerks lead.. They must be in a terrible state when they arrive at Marseilles."" , "Yep," replied Jacques, "they are com- , Dletelv used up. I can speak from expe- ' rience, for I once rode two hundred miles ; with them," " You have traveled in a mail-car ? What for?" 1 * *'1 will tell you. It's a curious story and ' one that concerns my marriage." . We took our places, the signal was given, and the train started. Then Jacques told me the following story: "At that certain epoch a certain blonde countess whom you know?for I suspect . that you were a little in love with her , yourself?had been a widow for two years, and it was almost decided that she was to become my wife. "At that time, when my story begins, it was autumn, and the countess was at her , country-house in the Var. We wrote to , each other almost every day?I, in order to tell her that I adored her; she, to occupy her leisure and give me errands to do, , for I was then in Paris. At the same time?let those who have not done likewise cast the first stone?I was breaking off , with another sweetheart. That was not a countess. She was a brunette, and lived in Normandy. Poor Louise! In one respect she resembled the countess?she gave me no end of errands to do. "One morning the porter brought me two letters and two lists of things to get. Happily I could fill both orders at the Louvre. I ate my breakfast and wrote my replies?one very fervent, for the countess; the other calm and cool for Louise. Then s I started for the Louvre. I selected the < samples requested, put them into the un- ' sealed envelopes, closed both letters, and ' placed them in my pocket. As I was com- j T mnt aiit? frionfl 1 lUg* Ullt Ui tllU lA'UVIC X UIVV VUl A&AWAAN* | Maxime, who was driving on his way to theBois. He took me along with him, began to tell me some of his stories, and I had quite forgotten my two letters, when a branch postoffice at the corner luckily refreshed my memory. "Maxime pulled up his horse, I got down, bought some postage-stamps, slipped the countess's letter into the box, and while putting the stamp on the other letter, I thought I felt some samples of cloth instead of some pieces of silk that it ought to contain. A cold perspiration poured down my face. I opened, the envelope. My boy, I had made a mistake. My letter to Loujse had gone to the Var, and, as you may imagine, it was simply the breaking off of my marriage. "There was no time to weigh the probabilities. I told Maxime to continue his drive alone, and went back into the office to try to undo my stupid blunder. "Perhaps you think that was an easy matter. The clerk looked at me askance, asked me all sorts of questions, and gave me a sermon on the disadvantages of absent-mindedness. I have not much patience,.and I presently got angry and sent fti'eclferk about hlsbusiness. "I remembered that I had an acquaintance who held an important position in the post-office deparment. I jumped into a cab, and went to the head office. When ] I got there, I found that my friend was 1 absent on business connected with the new ] +kA?n if +aa1t mo half an t UUUUllig. WIIW Illicit) ill iwa JIH- ?|?" ?'* < hour to find him. We returned to the head j office, where I obtained a letter from the i minister's secretary that would open all the post office bags and boxes throughout 1 the country. But when I got back to the i branch post office it was five-forty, and 1 I saw the mail wagon starting off. My i letter was, of course, in that wagon. "I told my cabman to follow the wagon. 1 When we reached the central office at the s Tuilleries, I showed my ministerial paper, s They said to me, very politely: > " 'Well, sir, we have three-quarters of i an hour to sort two or three hundred thou- j sand letters that go to all parts of the world. You will readily understand that it would 1 be impossble to find yours in that lot. The a best thing for you to do is to go to the 1 mail-car at the station. As you have a t ministerial order, the clerks there will find t your letter for you." "I got into the cab and started for the i station. As soon as I arrived I went to i the car. The clerks wanted to send me 1 to Jericho, but I insisted, and showed my \ authorization. The head-clerk, thinking 1 probably that I was a detective, said to 1 me: "Well, sir, get in. We will try and \ arrange your matter after we- start. But . for the moment I cannot do anything." < "I got into the car, which was already half full of sacks, and they had only begun ; to arrive. They came from all sides, and ! sometime:* it took two men to raise one of i the bags. The car was soon full to the top, < and the five clerks and myself did not know where to squeeze ourselves. And we < expected to find a letter in all that mass. I was losing courage, but there was nothing to be said. If the countess received the letter destined far Louise, I should be done i for. I was very much in love, and it was, moreover, a very fine marriage. "F lally, all the sacks had arrived. I i crouched into a corner, where I nearly stifled between dirty leather pouches that had : traveled all over Europe. A111 could see 1 . were the lamps in the top of the car, and < the numerous pigeon-holes for the letters, i Suddenly I felt the wheels revolve. We had started. The head clerk came to me : and asked what I wanted. I explained to him that I wished to get a letter addressed to the Chateau of Beillous, near Barjols, Var. "'In that case, it belongs to the Lyons division. Wc sort these letters after leav- < ing Dyon. Until we arrive there, all that you can do is to wait.' i "I will shorten the tale of my misery, i At ten in the morning, I arrived at Saint i Maxime station. It is at that station that the post-office bag for Barjols is left, and my letter had not been found! Just at i that moment, when the train slackened speed, the reason was explained. The clerks, seeing what importance I attached to the unlucky letter, concluded that it must be registered, and so they had not looked for it in the ordinary mail. "There was nothing to be said, for the train had already stopped. The sack for Barjols was thrown out on the platform. I followed it, for I was determined to have my letter. "I got into the open wagon that was to convey the mail and myself?the only passengers?to Barjols. How it rained! With my cane, white wastcoat, and tall hat, you can imagine how I looked. The driver told me that it was about sixteen miles from Saint Maxime to Barjols. We didn't say much to each other on the way? I was too busy with my reflections. We crossed deserted spots, and I was separated from my letter only by the hard board on which I was seated. I could have strangled or bribed the driver, but I had not strength enough left for the first operation; as to the second, I had only a few louis in my pocket, and if I had suborned the driver, I should not have had money enough left to get back to Paris without begging. "At last we arrived at Barjols, a pretty little village, containing a thousand inhabitants. I was on the point of going to the post office to ask for my letter, when a thought came to my mind. What will they say when they see a gentleman coming from Paris in a pouring rain, with a cane for his only piece of baggage, and presenting aministeral order for a letter to Countess X., well-known throughout the neighborhood ? The story would soon spread all over she place, and the countess would be sure to hear it. "I decided to be more diplomatic. An hour afterward, when the country letter carrier left the village of Barjols to go to the chateau, I overtook him, as if by chance, and asked him the way to the countess' residence. " 41 am going there,' ho replied; "if you like to come along with me, do so; it is nine miles.' "Nine miles! My patent-leather shoes trembled at this announcement. Nevertheless, I started along through the mud. We stopped at each inn, and I invited my companion to refresh himself. He kept up well until the fourth village on his route, but after that he was tipsy. As we passed along by a ditch, apparently by accident, I tripped him up, and he rolled over into the opening, which was about three feet deep. To jump in after him, under the pretense of helping him out, open his box, secure my letter, and stuff it into my pocket was the work of a minute. To get my man out of the ditch was not so easy. Just as I was succeeding in my task I heard a noise of rolling wheels along the road. I turned around. The rain had ceased, and the countess was coming along in her pony wagon. "How [she recognized me in the state I was int I do not know yet. But she did recognize me, and her stupefaction was equm to ray embarrassment, for I had intended to return to Paris without saying a word. ???w?n ??ah? f?ried :4what is the matter ? 1 Flow 3fd you get into such a plight?' "It was a moment when a man should, if ever, exercise a little imagination. " 'Do you believe in presentiments ?' I said to her. in a voice made thick by a frightful cold in the head; 'yesterday, at the very moment when I went to put a letter for you into the post-offlce, I distinctly heard my name pronounced by you in an agonized tone. I thought it was one of those mysterious warnings, of which I know so many examples, and, seized with terror, I started at once for your chateau without returning to my house. I love you so much, Amelia.' "I saw her beautiful eyes moisten. As for mine, the cold in my head filled them with tears that were not feigned. Amelia isked me take a seat beside her, and we irove to the chateau. This proof of love had touched her, and when we arrived before the door, she had pronounced the famous 'yes' that she had hesitated to utter for six months. "And that is how I came to be married." The Sergeant's Story. In 1880 I was traveling in Colorado by stage. The road passed through a wild country full of canyons and deep chasms. The stage remained at night at some 'ranch," where the travelers took supper, ; md were glad to rest in a comfortable t>ed. At a ranch one night, as we were sitting in the cheerful light of the fire-place, the conversation turned on the bravery of the Indians, some of the passengers declaring that the savages possessed a degree of courage close bordering on heroism, while others contended that anything like ;rue courage was unknown among them. Each party gave incidents to the support )f its views, and each person had had something to say on the subject, except )ur host, the ranchman, who sat listening ind smoking his pipe. At length he said, 'Gentlemen, I both agree and disagree with you. I think I understand the Inlian, and can speak with some degree )t Knowledge or nis cnaraciensucs :uiu ( labits. After going through the Civ1 War, I served two enlistments?ten pears?as private, corporal and sergeant in sheSeventn Cavalry, under General Custer. "I was ' with Custer when he struck ( Black Kettle's band, on the Washita in ( 68; I was with him in the Black Hills in ( 74; on the Yellowstone in 73; and when lie died like the hero he was in the battle the Little Big Horn, I was with Iteno )n the other part of the field, besieged by ( Sitting Bull, and as near to death as I ever i jxpect to be, until the final bugle call : ximes. , "I can assure you, gentlemen, that the Indian is brave, sometimes superbly so, 3ut he often seems to be an arrant coward. ' He will run away from superior, or even J squal numbers, for he considers it poor jeneralship to fight when the odds are not n his favor. 1 "After doing you all the damage he can, le will not hesitate to run away, for the jossession of the field of battle is not with ' lim, as it is with us, a point of honor and i proof of victory. "Yet, if you one* encounter him when , le is 'cornered,' when he is forced to fight iuperior numbers, when he is trying to 1 save a fallen friend from being scalped, or vhen he is badly wounded, you will find n him a degree of courage anything but )leasant for nis assailant. "The closest call I ever had in all my 1 ife, not even excepting that horrible day 1 vith Reno, was on an expedition from Fort Hays to Fort Lyon, in 1868, and I hen had an experience with the Indians hat I shall never forget. "Our command consisted of twenty men, mder Lieutenant Barlow, a young officer ( -vho had been in sen-ice only a little over 1 ;wo years, but who was known as a man of ?ood judgment, coolness and bravery. We eft Fort Hays, and marched several days 1 4 / !? nrrvwlv* tvaAr?4?At^innr I \\ iiiiuui uij \ intiucin >vuivn ? antil we were within a day's inarch of the Arkansas river, and not very far from our iestination. "Late in the afternoon we saw several Indians in the distance, on our right, and iuter, quite a large mounted party, evidently Indians also, on our left. It was evident that the savages, perhaps in force, were in our vicinity, and every man in the command was on the alert. We had with us a train of fifteen pack-mules, and they, with our horses, were enough of a prize to make an Indian attack more than probable. "However, nothing more was seen of the Indians that day, and we went into camp at sunset, hobbling and picketing our animals, and watching with anxiety for an attack. We had reason to be anxious. Our force was small, and we had, moreover, been compelled to make a "dry : camp," that is, there was no stream or water of any kind where we encamped, and the only water we had was that remaining in our canteens. "You may be sure that a careful watch was kept that night. Barlow knew his business thoroughly, and putting his men in a large buffalo wallow, he had them deepen it still more, and throw up a slight breastwork of earth around it. The fires had been carefully extinguished, and the night was one of the darkest that 1 have ever seen. "We did not expect an attack before morning, for the Indians have a strange, superstitious fear of dark, but we knew very well that the first streaks of dawning light would bring danger, for late dusk and early dawn are the favorite hours for Indian attacks. "All was quiet during the night. About two o'clock in the morning, I was relieved irom guaru uy me inner sergeant, aim, after reporting to the lieutenant, I lay down to catch a few winks of sleep. My nap seemed very brief, and I was awakened by one of the men, who shook me by the shoulder saying, "Sergeant, get up. Here's business ahead, or I'm a fool." It was just early gray daylight, but we could see the Indians?a large band of them? getting ready for a dash upon us. "Every man in the camp was soon in his place, ready to repulse the enemy, while Barlow, its cool as if he was on dress parade, cautioned us not to waste a shot, nor fire until he gave the signal. "The redskins did not keep us long in suspense. Down they dashed at full speed, until nearly within rifle range, when they began circling around us, yelling like fiends, while our animals began to snort with fright, and to tug violently at the picket ropes and hobbles. "Soon two young braves made a dash toward our stock, waiving red blankets, and yelling like demons. They kept their bodies on the far side of their ponies, exposing only an arm and a foot as they roue towards us. "There was in our command a little Irishman, by ihe name of Flanagan, who was an excellent rifle shot. As these two young braves rode toward us, the lieutenant said, 'Flanagan, give the rascal nearest us a shot.' "Up came Flanagan's rifle, a shot rang out, and down came the pony. This was our first shot and it was worth a good deal. The other Indian did not fancy such sharp shooting, and ran back to his comrades, who were still circling around us, cracking their throats with their diabolical yells. The dismounted warrior dragged himself out from his dead pony, and began to limp away. lie was now a fair mark. "Another shot rang out, and the Indian fell, while Flanagan, taking his rifle from his shoulder, quietly remarked: "Well, there is another one to do no harm.' "The Indians now rode away beyond rifle shot. It surely did not seem courageous in them to abandon the attack and fall back, and to fall back before an inferior force when only two shots had been fired. But that was their way, but we knew there would be another attack. "You see, the Indians were determined, if possible, to have our horses and packmules, and their purpose was to stampede the animals if they could, and then to finish us at their leisure. Their style of warfare required that we should be gotten out of the way with the least possible loss to themselves. They had us in a vise, as it were. To have mounted and tried to cut our way out, through a force of fully two hundred Indians, would-have been sheer folly. "In a short time the rascals dismounted, and a large number of them began crawling towards us cautiously, occasionally firing a shot. The horses and mules had """ O ronniiorOfl frnm thoir fricrllf find WPrP. A WW IViVVi ?iV?u wmvm ?y yy ww.i . . ? grazing as well as their lariats and hobbles would permit. Barlow would not allow any ammunition to be wasted. By his orders, Flanagan and another crack-shot occasionally put in an effective bullet, but they fired only when a fair mark was presented. The Indians attempted to set fire to the grass, but it was too green and too scant to burn well. "The sun was now well up, and the morning had become intensely hot. Our canteens had nearly all been emptied, and the question of water was already becoming so serious that I felt a sensation of relief when I saw the savages preparing for some movement. "Thus far, the conduct of the Indians had seemed positively cowardly; but now their purpose seemed to be to overwhelm us with a rush, and capture the stock with one swoop. Down they came in a furious charge. " 'Now, men, give it to them, but don't waste your bullets," exclaimed Lieutenant Barlow. A rattling volley followed. As the Indians came within rifle shot withblood-curdling yells, ponies and riders fell. Still the savages kept on until our fire became too deadly for them, and then they began to circle around us, still yelling like demons, and continuing their fire. It was a brave charge, but we had too strong a position for our assailants. They gradually extended the radius of their circle until they were beyond our range, but the wretches had succeeded in stampeding a dozen of our animals. "We had repulsed the charge, but at a heavy cost, for Lieutenant Barlow was lying silent and motionless, with a bullet in his heart, and three private soldiers were also dead. Five more were wounded, including Flanagan, whose right arm was broken by a shot. "The command devolved upon me, and I had anything but an encouraging task to undertake. The wounded men were moaning piteously, and crying for water. The canteens were drained for their benefit, and now the absolute dearth of water combined with our other perils to make our situation desperate. "We could, however, see the maians carrying off tneir dead and wounded, and we knew that their loss had been a terribly heavy one. "Whether the savages had given up all hopes of stampeding the rest of our stock, or revenge had gotten.the bettor of their cupidity, I do not know, but they now opened fire upon our animals, and the poor beasts were killed outright. The fire upon us was not very severe, but it was too effective, considering the small size of our command. One of the wounded men was killed by a stray bullet, and another man was wounded in the course of the afternoon. "We now had only eleven men fit for duty. I shall never forget the sunset of that day. The sun looked J ike a great blood-red ball as it sank below the straight line which seemed to be the western boundary of the plain, and its appearance seemed to be an omen of our approaching fate. As dusk came, I was apprehensive of another attack, and you can hardly imagine the painful anxiety with which I watched the whole horizon. "Occasionally there was a solitary shot, but there were 110 signs of any movement, and, finally, darkness put an end to our fears of another assault. "It was an awful night. Our rations were eaten cold, and our thirst was so great that it was almost impossible to swallow our food. We were suffering severely. As to myself, though, I almost forgot my misery in my pity for one of the wounded men, a mere boy in years, whose moanings and appeals for water were heart rending. Morning came. With it came a renewal of the desultory firing of the Indians, who seemed to have determined to wear us out with thirst, fatigue, and anxiety, rather than trust to another open assault. The sun rising red and fiery in a cloudless sky, gave promise of another day of heat and pitiless thirst. My tongue was swollen, and seemed to fill my mouth, so as to render articulation almost impossible. "The Indians kept up their fire, but our firing ceased entirely, as I wished to save our ammunition for.use at close quarters, in the event of another charge. Occasionally, some young brave would sally tortn ana aasn arouna us in a circie, auu one young warrior, superbly mounted, with his body fantastically painted, and wearing a gaudy 'war-bonnet,' rode within a hundred yards of us, and began to taunt us with all the ribald words in his limited English vocabulary. "The mark was too tempting. Two of the men fired, and brought down both horse and rider. The Indian struggled to rise, then fell and lay writhing on the ground. My sufferings had blunted my sensibilities, and I confess that in my own distress, I seemed to take a demoniac delight in seeing the painful struggles of the poor wretch. "The Indian did not lie on the ground long. Another warrior, who had been circling around at a greater distance, at once put his horse at full speed, and rushed to the assistance of his friend. We opened fire upon him, but he dismounted, i>laced the wounded warrior on his horse, mounted again, and got away unharmed, though his horse received a wound in the fiank before lie got out of range. It was as brave an act as I ever saw. "The day wore on slowly, and we almost began to hope for death, as a release from our sufferings. The continuous tire of the Indians had not been without result. Three more of our men were wounded, though not dangerously. One of the men who had been wounded the day before died in the afternoon. We were all nearly mad with thirst and the long continued strain upon our nervous system, and I hardly know whether it was with a greater sense of dread or relief that I looked forward to the probability of another charge upon us, which should end our misery. "About an hour before sunsetj 1 saw the Indians gathering up their ponies, and we grasped our riiies for a final struggle; but the charge did not come, for the savages, with every indication of haste, and even i~ri. i u :,.ia panic, K*ii liic iit'iu 111 iiuinni ui^m. "At first I thought it was a ruse to draw us from our cover, hut I soon saw tlmt it was a genuine retreat. We were too voiceless to hurrah, but we managed to give the rascals a few parting shots. "We were not long in discovering the cause of the Indian flight. Two companies of cavalry came in sight, and a detachment was sent over to our relief, while the rest pushed on after the flying savages. It is not often that brave men sob aloud, hut the reaction from our horrible and seemly hopeless condition to our new state of safety was too great, and we broke down and cried like children. "I never tasted such nectar as the water in the canteens of the detachment, though it came from the Arkansas river, and had been carried all day in the hot sunshine. "Poor Lieutenant Barlow and the other dead soldiers were buried with military honors the next day. We made a night march to the fort, an ambulance having been provided for the survivors of our party. It seems that a scout from Fort Lyon had heard the tiring the day before, and had reported it to the commanding officer of that post, who sent out the force to our relief. "Now, gentlemen, my story is,done, and I hope it may aid you in forming your estimate of the Indian's courage. He is brave, but his standard of hravery is not the same as ours." Not Anticipated.?Mr. Hilliard, a tea salesman from Boston, told a pretty good story at the Coates house the other night, says The Kansas City Times. There was an old chap from away back in Vermont, he said, who came to town one day to make some purchases, chief among which was a big bill of goods from my house. He bought about three hundred dollars worth of oolongs, young hysons, English breakfasts, etc. While the goods were being put up I undertook to show him through the house, and in the course of our wanderings we came to a speaking tube. This was a marvel to Mr. Vermonter, and I had to explain to him how it was we could speak from the sixth floor, on which we were at the time, to a man on the first floor. To illustrate my words, I called up our shipping clerk, and asked him, "Have you put up those goods for Mr. Vermonter ?" and with this I slipped from the tube and put it to the ear of my customer. The result was not what I had anttci^ pated. "MuCh obliged, sir; you can cancel my order," said he to me. "What's the matter?" says I. "O nothin'," says he; and off he 'started for the elevator. "What did you say just now?" I asked the shipping clerk in haste. "I said I am waiting for an answer from Bradstreets on him ; I understand he is a slippery old cuss, and needs watching!" An Intelligent Cat.?A wonderful cat story, which has the peculiar merit of being true, says the New York Evening Sun, is the following: A women up-town has a large number of birds, which she keeps in an aviary built on to the rear wall of the house. She also has a large Maltese cat, who proved herself so trustworthy and so kindly disposed toward the feathered pets that she has had for some time free range of the aviary, whether the birds were in their separate cages or not. A few days ago, while all the birds save one were shut in their cages, the owner heard a wild outcry in the aviary. Rushing to the door she met her trusted cat coming out with this bird in her mouth. On the instant the next room was reached, however, the cat released her hold and the bird flew away frightened but wholly unharmed. On investigating the cause of the sudden confusion the woman found in the aviary a stray cat that had slipped in through a lowered sash. The house cat, seeing the danger, had snatched the bird ' At- ? A. 11.. in ner mouui so cmeiuuy tw nun iu nmui a feather and carried it out of reach of the intruder. The Ears Did it.?A Parisian dandy recently had a crayon picture of himself made, which lie afterward pretended to find fault with. "It does not bear the slightest resemblance to me," he said, "and I will not take it." The astist protested, but all to 110 avail. "All right, sir," he remarked finally, "if it does not look at all like you of course I can't reasonably expect to get paid for it." After the dandy had left, the painter added to the portrait a magnificent pair of ass's ears and exhibited it in a window thus altered to the gaze of the curious public. It had not been lon^ so exposed when the dandy broke into the artist's studio in a towering rage, and finding that threats amounted to nothing he at last offered to buy it even at a considerable advance upon the original price. "It wasn't strange you didn't recognize your resemblance to the picture at first," said the painter, "but I knew you'd notice the likeness as soon as I added those ears." ?[Philadelphia Times. Wattersox ox Slavery.?The most extreme abolitionist who ever lived cannot exceed the measure of the detestation I feel, and I have felt all my life, for human slavery, and human slavery in all its forms and aspects. There never was a more indefensible institution than African slavery in America. To buy and sell a human life at will; to separate a husband and wife, a mother and daughter, a father and son, brothers and sisters without remorse ; to deny education, discourage virtue and leave 110 hope of relief, was indeed to fly in the face of God himself. That ministers of the gospel sustained this system, and that thousands went out to fight for it who had no interest in it and did not believe in it, only shows to what a white heat the friction of antagonism and controversy can drive the passions of good and brave men. It is happily gone from us. It was wiped out in blood and flame.?[Henry Watterson. A Ruinous Practice.?The system of endorsing is all wrong and should be abolished. It has been the financial ruin, perhaps, of more men than any other cause. Bookkeeping, a journal devoted to merchants, clerks and business men, advises our young men to study the matter carefully in all its bearings, and adopt some settled policy to govern their conduct, so as to be ready to answer the man who asks him to sign his note. What responsibility does one assume when he endorses a note? Simply this: He is held for the payment of the amount in full, principal and interest, if the maker of the note, through misfortune, mismanagement or rascality fails to pay. Notice, the endorser assumes all this responsibility, with no voice in the management of the busine&s and no share in the profits of the transaction, if it proves profitable; but with a certainty of loss if, for any of the reasons stated, the principal fails to pay the note. Quills and Pens.?Mr. Joseph Gillott was a Birmingham working jeweller in 1830. One day he accidentally split one of his fine steel tools, and being required to sign a receipt, not finding his quill pen at hand, he used the split tool as a ready substitute. This happy accident led to the idea of making pens of metal. It was carried out with secresy and promptitude, and the pens of Gillott became famous. The manufacture of metal pens has been as important as any invention connected with business and education since that of printing. There are now numerous firms which produce as many pens every day as all the geese in England could have supplied in a year. There is still, however, a large demand for quills and quill-pens ; but for common use, in these days of universal education, the importance of Gillott's first invention is incalculable. Bariks' X .:d of Sleep.?A young baby should spend most of its time in sleep. .\ever aiiow 11 u, oe wnKeneu ior any purpose whatever. A child's nerves receive a siiock everytime it is roused from sleep, which is most injurious to it. Admiring friends should he made to wait until it is awake, to kiss it and play with it. After it is nursed at night put it hack in its crib, and if it is comfortable it will soon fall asleep. It should never sleep in the hed with an older person. Place the crib with its head to the light so as to protect the eyes from the glare. A light canopy serves to ward off draughts. Curtains cut off the supply of fresh air and, except a mosquitonetting in summer, should not he used. Until a child is two years old it should spend part of each day in sleep, taking a long nap morning and afternoon.?[Ladies' Home Journal. Which is Yorit Right Hand??An anatomist told me the other day that I could not tell him which was my right hand. I immediately held out my right hand, hut he objected. He said that he did not say that I could not show or extend inv rierht hand, hut that I could not tell him which was my right hand?that is, that I could describe it in words so that one who had never heard of the distinction we make between the right and left hands would be able to find it. I thought that would be easy enough also until I took time to think the matter over, then I gave it up, for on the outside of the human body there is nothing to distinguish the right hand from the left. No one can describe it in words so that an ignorant person (one not knowing the distinctions we make) can find and locate it.?[St. Louis Republic. Miscellaneous ^eatlimj. A QUESTION OF POLICY. t i THE WAYS OF AN INSURANCE AGENT ARE \ INDEED MYSTERIOUS. t Milton J. Tonteen was a young insurance I agent who was naturally very anxious to ^ get business for his company. That in fact ** was what lie was there for. He looked ' upon all humanity, individually and col- ^ lectively, as risks. * Every man who walked c the streets was to him a risk, good or bad. ( He button-holed people on the street and g whispered a few words to them about the j, necessity of insuring while it was yet time, c and he followed people into their offices until many a man was worried into taking a policy that he felt that he did not need, but he had to do it in self defense if he ex- . pected to get any more work done during [ the rest of his natural life. There was one man that young Tonteen wanted very much to get, and that was , old Bolus, the millionaire. He felt that if ~ he could rake in the old man, who was not J very old after all, it would be a good name " with which to get others, because everything that Bolus touched seemed to turn to fold, and people were very much in the I .abit of trying to get into the schemes in f | which old man Bolus was interested. Ton- j teen naa tried ana tnea again to get .ur. Q Bolus interested in life insurance, but his V efforts had all been without avail. He was : talking one time about this millionare to a [ friend of his, a young physician, when the i latter said: : "Look here, Tonteen, one good turn de- ? serves another. Now, if you make me * one of the examiners for your company J I'll agree to help you rake in old man J Bolus." ) "It's a bargain," said Tonteen, and I forthwith the young physician was appointed. "Now," said Tonteen, "you go to Bolus *! and offer him ten thousand dollars worth J of insurance for nothing." "Oh, but I can't do that," said Ton- v teen ; "the company would never sanction J such a proceeding." "That's all right, replied the doctor, you x go and offer him that and see how quick | he will jump at it." : "Why, if you offered old Bolus a cent, he would take it quicker than a wink." "You offer him the insurance and tell him there will be nothing to pay and send ? him to me to be examined." * So the next time that Tonteen went into 15 the office of Mr. Bolus he said to him, notwithstanding that gentleman's frown ? and wave |of thejhand: "Look here, Mr. j: Bolus, business is business. I will not ; conceal from you the fact that if I got you * on our list it would be a very good thing for our company. Our company recog- ? nizes that, and so they authorize me to offer you $10,000 insurance on your life for j; nothing. We will take the risk for the J advantage it will give us to carry you. Of course you understand that this thing has to be kept quiet; we wouldn't care to have anybody else know it." ? "That's all right," said Bolus, genially. " "Now, young man, you are talking sense. ^ I will accept the proposition, and some 1 time perhaps I will take a little more in ' your company." J "I am sure," said Tonteen, "when you ? see the advantages of carrying life insur- ; ance that you will have more of it. Now, J if imn non no 11 omnnrl nn nur PYllininpr. I Dr. Bones, corner First and Blank streets, he will examine you." j: "See here," said Bolus, "I haven't time ; to go fooling round a doctor's office; can't you send him up here?" "All right," said the insurance agent, \ "I'll see about it. "What time would suit | you best?" : "Oh, I don't know; any time in the , forenoon," and so it was arrranged. ? Young Dr. Bones was kept waiting some * time for Mr. Bolus, but at last he was * a&ced to step into the private office, and ^ the door closed behind him. He stood the j old man up and made him breathe long * breaths, and then thumped him on the ; shoulders and listened to his heart, and * Elaced his ear back of him and front of I im in different positions, and finally stood lt up and looked at the millionaire severely. "Ever been rejected by any insurance company ?" said the doctor. ; "Certainly not, sir," answered Bolus, j hotly ; "never applied for a cent of insurance in my life." . "Well, I am sorry to say, Mr. Bolus, , that I can not recommend our company to j take you as a risk. There is something J the matter with your heart. You may drop dead at any moment, sir." Old Bolus turned pale and then sank \ into his office chair again. "Oh, it may be nothing serious;" said the doctor, "only our company is very careful about such matters, and of course I have a great responsibility. If you should 1 drop off three months after I have made 1 this examination then I would be in t trouble. I wish you good morning, sir." ( Old Bolus sat for some time looking into < space and paid no attention to the knocks > at his door. Finally he called up his boy * and told him to telephone to Mr. Tonteen. 1 When that gentleman came he found the 1 millionaire in a state of mind. 1 "See here," he said, "what do you f mean by offering me $10,000 insurance and 1 then having your physician reject me? i Whiif do vnn pyiw! to make bv that sort * of conduct, sir?'^ i "Really," said Ton teen, "lias he rejected I you ? Why, I wouldn't have thought it. 1 You look to nie as healthy a man as walks 1 the streets." * 1 "And so I am, sir ; and so I am." ^ "Well, see here," said Tonteen, con Aden- 1 tially, "this is rather serious, you know. 1 Perhaps Bones is mistaken." 1 "Of course he is mistaken," cried the 1 millionaire, smiting his fist on the desk. t "Well, the trouble will he that if you < apply for insurance anywhere else you will : have to tell them that you have been re- t jected by our company." * "But sir, 1 haven't been rejected. I nev- 1 er made application to your company and i I refuse to have it considered so." ( "I am sorry to say," said Tonteen, "that i your application has already gone in ; you J remember you signed it? Now, I'll tell i you what we had better do, Mr. Bolus; t you come around with me to old Squills. J He's not half so particular as our other 1 man. Perhaps he will pass you all right." ' "Very well, Mr. Tonteen, I will do so," < said the millionaire, with a sigh of relief, s "But, of course, you understand it can j not be on the first arrangement ? You see, 1 I took you for being as sound a man, as I 1 said, as any that walks the streets. It < seems that you are. not so, and if you get t into an insurance company at all now, let '> me tell you you are mighty lucky and making a very good speculation of it. 1 < only do this now because I have offered t you the free insurance, and because if your t application were rejected by our company 1 you would not he accepted by any other i company. I may get into trouble on ac- 1 count of this as 'it is, but wc had bettor go and see what Dr. Squills says." Dr. Squills did not make nearly so thorough an examination as Dr. Bones, 1 and he had no hesitation in passing the I subject all right. # * Mr. Tonteen is now a very successful in- s surance agent but he never cares to tell < how he landed old man Bolus into the 1 insurance net.?[Luke Sharp, in Detroit f Free Press. t The Kckopeax Mechanic.?One of i the officers of the Philadelphia Master ( Builders' Exchange, alter spending suvural months in making labor investigations, describes the condition of the European mechanic as follows, in carpentry and building: The mechanic of Europe is a laborer; he looks like a laborer, and 1 certainly felt proud of being an American mechanic when I understood his condition. The methods of European workmen are sometimes different from those of workmen here. In many trades they are artists. The stone-masons and plasterers, in particular, are artists, but in Salt/.burg I saw them trudging along wheeling their tools in handcarts. In San ltenio I saw them handle stone in a curious way. Eour men would lift a stone of great weight and set it on the head of the fifth man, who would i carry it to a point on a level, or to the floor of a building where it was to be laid, and then four other men would remove it from the head of the carrier and set it in its place. All through Germany and Austria I saw women mixing and carrying the mortar for the masons and bricklayers, j Tlioy do not use hods, but a kind of a tray, vhich they carry on their heads. In Zurich I saw a peculiar style of nileIriving. The weight was hauled up by a ope, drawn hand over hand, by a gang of nen who would let go the rope when they vanted the weight to drop. This method lid not work as well as ours. In Munich visited one of beer gardens frequented by vorkmen, and talked with an intelligent tonecutter. lie said the workmen rarely lad meat to eat more than once a week, rheir dinner consisted of their beer, a litle brown bread and sausage. The beer lost them two cents a gallon, and they Irank it quietly at work or at dinner. I aw no disorder whatever among them, ind in fact saw but three drunken men luring the whole time 1 was in Europe. THE SCENT OP DOGS. Our sense of smell is hardly keen enough o enable us to understand how it is possi)le for the dog to do all he can do with his lose. We cannot, for instance, distinguish >y smell a rabbit's foot from a piece of >ark, which it seems most to resemoie? >robably because the bark is the strongest melling substance with which the foot isually comes in contact. But not so with the hound, or even with nany common cur dogs. Not only will hey recognize the scent of the foot itself, >ut hours after the rabbit has passed along hey can follow him unerringly by the cent of the spots where he touched his ight feet to the ground. What proporion of the odor of the foot can there be eft upon a spot where it has merely rested or an instant? And yet a dog with a food nose will find an invisible track, and hen will determine, by snuffing for a few rards back and forth, which way the aninal passed. Then he will follow all the vindings and doublings which the animal las made either in search for food, or, afer he is "up," in escaping his pursuers. If this is wonderful, what is to be said of i dog's never confusing the track of one abbit with that of another ? After a dog las once seen that a rabbit is dead, he will iet off upon some other track, which often s much fainter than that of the one just tilled, though the two may cross each )ther and be intermingled in innumerable daces. The blood hound which is the ceenest-scented of all dogs, can follow his naster or victim, no matter how many >thers may tread in the same path. We can hardly believe that these things ire done solely through the sense of smell; )ut that is the best science can make of it is yet. Tberearemanv other facts which dem mstrate the power of the dog's scent. I >nce knew a hound which would never sat bread, and yet was quite fond of raised )iscuit, the same thing in every respect ave that it contained a little shortening. )ne might take in one hand a piece of iread half the size of a pea, ana in the >ther the same amount of biscuit, and the lound would smell of both and never nake a mistake in selecting the biscuit. The power of scent of even the keenerlosed common dogs, such as the bull dog, an be tested by fastening a bit of meat to a itring and dragging it about the yard vhen the dog does not see you, hiding it it the end of the trail, and then afterward jutting him on the search for it where ,*ou started. If he has a good nose he will fo over the same path you took and find he meat. Leave no string on the meat, lowever, as it might injure him to swallow he string. All hounds, save the greyhound, run aitirely by scent. When they come upon 00 faint a scent of a track they will work ilong it until it grows fresher, and then >egin to bay or "give tongue." There is ilways a correspondence between the >aying and the trail. An experienced lunter can tell by the baying not only vhere the dog is, but, by the frequency tnd confidence of the sound, how fresh he trail is?that is how fresh upon the fame the dog is. All hunted animals have L way of doubling or running in circles, rlence, if a hunter observes by the baying hat the dog is going away from him, he vaits patiently, sometimes for hours, until he circle is made and he hears the dog ipproaching. Then he is on the alert for 1 shot, for the game is probably not many ?r\r1a in a/lvonna r\f fViA rl AO* l/uo 111 (IU V (ilivv W1 lliv V4V/^t A hound is seldom lost. Ilis nose is his lompass. Whenever lie pleases he can ake up his master's track and find him, or le can retrace his own steps homeward. Hogs do not seem to enjoy those odors hat please us. A dog will turn away distppomted and indifferent from the finest >f perfumes. Except the scent of those hings which he would like to eat, I have lever found anything that seemed to dei^lit the dog's sense of smell.?[Theo. B. IV ilson in St. Nicholas. WOMAN'S PAINTED PACE. The art of beautifying the complexion >y artificial. means is very old. The wonen of gray antiquity knew how to give heir cheeks the rosy hue which nature had lenied them. In Nineveh the practice of mameling was quite common. The skin ,vas made smooth and clean with pumice itone and then covered with a layer of vhite chemical preparations. A toilet case bund in the ruins of Thebes contained a vhole arsenal of little bottles full of per'umeries and complexion medicines. The vomen of Athens painted themselves with vhite lead and vermilion. The poet of )vid described various paints which were ised by the ltoman matrons, and comilained that the women tried to imitate vith cosmetics the rosy complexion which lealth alone could give. He also spoke of lie deceitful pallor lent to their cheeks by vhite lead, and of the curious methods they lad of beautifying their eyes. Again he nentions that a pale face was a necessity or every woman who aspired to be "good orni." Pliny speaks of a concoction of lour of peas and barley, eggs, heartshorn, itc., which fashionable women in Itome vore on their faces all night and part of lie day for the purpose of clearing their skins. The custom of painting the face was irought to Gaul and Germany by the Iionans. A few centuries later one hundred lifi'erent salves for the complexion was sold n the German market. In modern times Prance has been the great manufacturer iiid consumer of cosmetics. In England, :oo, the use of them has been general, in 779, the English Parliament found it expedient to consider a bill to the effect that 'all women, without distinction as to age >r rank, maidens as well as widows, who thould deceive the male subjects of his Majesty and mislead them into marriage >y means of paint, salve, beauty water, alse teeth, false hair, Spanish wool, corsets, >r padded hips, should be punished under he provisions of the law against sorcery, md the marriage should be declared null." A (Jerman statistician, who has accurate lata concerning the use of cosmetics hroughout the civilized world, estimates hat the money which American women >ay for cosmetics would pay for the paintng of :17,0IM) houses at an expense of $7") >er house. ? I USES FOR OLD SHOES. It may he a surprise to some people to earn that the old shoes cast into the ash parrel are liable to reappear in the boudoir md parlor. An inquisitive reporter who law a couple of rag pickers quarrelling pver a lot of worn out and seemingly worthess foot gear, interviewed one of the chifbniers and found that they sold them to he manufacturers of wall paper. He folowed up the clew, and on questioning the breman of one of these establishments, elicited the following bits of information : "We buy," said the foreman, "all the poots and shoes that the scavengers can iring us. We pay different prices for the lifi'erent qualities of leather. A pair of ine calfskin boots will bring as high as ifteen cents. We don't buy cow-hide loots. The boots and shoes are first soak>d in several waters to get the dirt off from hem. Then the nails and threads are emoved, the leather ground up into a ine pulp and is ready for use. "The embossed leather paperings which nive come into fashion lately, and the itamped leather fire screens, are really lothing but thick paper cover with a layer >f this pressed leather pulp. The finer the ?nr. 1 i+*r nf tlio lnntlior Ihp bpttpr it. tfilvPS ...~ he bronze and the old gold and other expensive colors in the design painted on hem. Fashionable people think they are joing away back to the medheval times ,vhen they have the walls of their libraries overed with embossed leather. They lon't know that the shoes and boots which ;heir neighbors threw into the ash barrel i month before form the beautiful material on their walls and on the screens which protect their eyes from the fire. "We could buy the old shoes cheaper if it were not for the competition from the carriage makers and bookbinders and picture frame makers. I don't know how many trades use old shoes and boots, but the tops of carriages are largely made of them, ground up and pressed into sheets. Bookbinders use them in the cheaper forms of leather bindings, g^d the new style of leather frames with the castoff covering of our feet."?[New York Herald. WHO WROTE*THE BIBLE? Moses wrote Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers and Deuteronomy. Joshua, Phineas or Eleazer wrote the book of Joshua, but it is not certain which of them. Samuel is the penman of the books of Judges and Ruth. He also wrote the first acts of David, and probably Nathan, and God wrote his last acts; and the whole was formed after Samuel as the most eminent person called the first and second book of Samuel. Jeremiah most probably compiled the two books of Kings. Ezra compiled the two books of Chronicles. He is also the author of the book bearing his name. Nehemiam wrote Nehemiah. Elihu was most probably the penman of the book of Job. Moses may have written the first two and the last. Some think that Job wrote it himself. David wrote most of the book of Psalms. Asaph penned a few of them. Solomon wrote Proverbs, Ecclesiates and the Songs of Solomon. Isaiah is the author of the prophesy of Isaiah. Jeremiah wrote the book bearing his name, and the Lamentations of Jeremiah. Micah, Nahum, Ilabakkuk, Haggai, and Zachariah wrote the prophesies bearing their names. Matthew, Mark, Luke and John wrote the gospels named for them. Luke wrote the Acts of the Apostles. Paul is the author of the Epistles to the Romans, Corinthians, Galatians, Ephesians, Philippians, Colosians, Thessalonians, Timothy, Titus, Philemon and (probably) Hebrews. James, the son of Alpheus, who was cousin german to Christ and one of the Apostles, wrote the Epistle of James. reier wroic uic j'i|jintiu uaum^ ma name. The Apostle John wrote the three Epistles ot John. Jude, the Apostle, brother of James, called also Lubbeus whose surname was Thaddeus, a near relative to our Lord, wrote the Epistle of Jude. St. John, the Divine, wrote Revelation. ?[The Boys' Holiday. HE LOST THlTTRAIL. The prevalent practice of building cities on paper, where more substantial material is wanting, seems to have reached its height in a certain locality in the South, which was recently visited by a Maine man, who relates, in the Lewiston (Me.) Journal, an amusing incident of his trip. The "city" is at a famous railway junction, and high expectations are entertained of its future greatness, especially by the original "city company." On its map may be seen magnificent avenues intersected by broad streets, with here and thfere spacious parks, beautiful fountains, etc. It happened during his stay that the man from Maine had occasion to go in search of a person on a dark night. Being unfamiliar with the "city," he was accompanied by one of its original fathers. With a lantern to throw light on their path they started. After walking a short distance the guide, with a view of communicating instruction as well as agreeable information, stopped in the neighborhood of a group of towering pines. Swinging the lantern slowly arouna, he said: "Here we are, stranger, right on Magnolia avenue?a fine street one hundred feet wide." Proceeding a little way further, he remarked : "This is Broad street?an excellent thoroughfare for business purposes. Just beyond is Highland avenue, on which are fine sites for private residences." The stranger began looking for these sites, but owing to the darkness was unable to distinguish them. After stumbling on, up and down ravines, over stumps and other obstacles peculiar to more than one Southern metropolis, tne guiae agum stopped and remarked, with some hesitation: "This, sir, is?ah!?let me see?I?I believe, sir?that is to say?cuss it! I've lost the trail!" PATIENT DRESS-MAKERS. "Yes, you meet many cranks," remarked a dress-maker to a Detroit Tribune reporter. "The first grade are those ladies who have dresses altered. I had some experience with one of this class not long ago. She sent for me. "Miss X she said, I want this dress made over. The material is very expensive and cost me four dollars a yard. I am almost afraid to let you undertake it.' 'Very well, then,' I said, rising. 'However, I think I will trust you,' she continued. "So after the usual preliminaries of measuring and fitting I sat down to take the dress to pieces. 1 applied the scissors and cut the goods 011 the bias. With that she groaned aloud. I worked for about half an hour while she continued to get more and more nervous. At last she arose. 'I can't stand it any longer,' she said. 'I am too nervous. You must go. I can't have you work any more to-day.' So I left. "The next day I received a note to call. 'I suppose you might as well finish what you have begun,' she said when I entered, 'but work as quickly as you can.' "Well, I was never before so harrassed. She groaned whenever I touched the scissors. The dress turned out a perfect success and fitted her splendidly. As a result the lady has taken a great fancy to me, and I like her, although social gayeties have made her a partial victim to nervous prostration. "I recall another case," continued the ! dress-maker. "I made a dress for a lady out of decidedly cheap material. When she tried it on she said: 'It is too long.' I took it up an inch. The next day she said: 'It is too short.' I let it down the inch. She said: 'Oh, dear, you have made it too long once more.' I took it up half an inch. At last she said: 'That is right.' It was right, because it was just as I had it at first. Yes, a dress-maker needs patience." 565"-The Grocers and ('aimers' Gazette says: There are over 1,900 canning concerns in operation in the country. Mary1 1 ' 1 xl-" utilh "QQ \foino nfivf 1.111(1 1CUUS llltJ list >Vllll tw"| -I'ltlniv, itv.iv with 152, Virginia next, 120; New York, 08; New Jersey, G8; with Ohio, Pennsylvania, Delaware and Ilinois next in order, employing in various capacities over 1,000,000 people, and using the product of over 1,000 acres of land. Fifteen million cases in round numbers is the estimated output of these canneries in 1880, which, figured at the minimum of current cost amounts to $25,000,000. Of this vast sum $15,000,000, at least, were paid to the farmer for his products. The packers have paid $3,000,000 in duties fast year and charged the same against the cost of the goods. As the purchasing of canned products is gauged, not by the needs, but by the purchasing ability of the consumers, any addition to the present cost will curtail consumption in direct proportion. The proposed increase will add at least an average of twenty per cent, to cost, which means curtailing enormously consumption and the consequent overflow of 50 per cent, of the packers. The canning industry is the most popular enterprise in the list of American manufactories. Considering its age and future possibilities it is the most promT aaa tlmn + vonrs ncrn CilTI UCOO UtUU I/ITV/1IVJ j v?*4.j t.hv wv,ned products were a novelty, which the crude and costly art of preserving and the excessive cost of cans placed beyond the reach of popular consumption. Developing Genius.?Genius unexerted is no more genius than a bushel of acorns is a forest of oaks. There- may be epics in men's brains^ just as there are oaks in acorns, but the tree and book must come out before we can measure them. We very naturally recall here, says Emerson, that class of grumblers and wishers who spend their time in longing to be higher than they are, while they s|iould be em ployed in advancing, themselves. How many men would fain go to bed dunces and wake up Solomons! You reap what you have sown. Those who sow aunce seed, vice seed, laziness seed usually get a crop. They who sow wind, reap a whirlwind. A man of mere "capacity undeveloped" is only an organized day-dream with a skin on it. A flint and a genius that will not strike are no better than wet junk-wood. How to Love God.?A woman once said to her pastor; "I do love God very much, but want to love him more; how can I?" "You must become better acquainted with Him," was the reply. "We love those who are worthy of our love in proportion as we become acquainted with them." "How can I get better acquainted?" she asked. "Study the Bible more." he said. "God speaks to you and reveals himself to you, in the Bible. Read in the New Testament the life of Jesus, and imagine you had been with him as John and Peter and Mary were?and pray more. Tell him all your joys and troubles and needs. He will answer you, and every answer will draw you closer and closer to him. Then try to please him in everything you do and say. We always love those whom we try to please. Love makes us wish to , please the Lord, and love rewards us when we have done it." The woman followed these rules, simple as they were, and her love to God grew and spread all through her heart. It made ner very happy, so that all who knew her said f "What a bright, cheerful Eerson she is! I don't believe she ever as any trouble." And yet she did have a great deal of trouble, but the love of God so filled her heart that it seemed like wings to lift her up above it all. If she had been asked if she had any trouble, she would have smiled and said: "I don't believe I have; the minute it comes Jesus takes it all away." "Loveis of God; and every one that loveth is born of God and knoweth God." "He that dwelleth in love, dwelleth in God, and God in him. " The very essence of our religion is love. The love of God shed abroad in the heart by the Holy Ghost brightens life and prepares for death. Love is the atmosphere of heaven, and none can be admitted there who have not first learned to love. "Teach us Lord, at length to love."? [Word and Work. Renting a Dress Suit.?"What does it cost to rent a dress suit ?" The question came from a shabby genteel young man who dropped in on a prominent costumer of Detroit. "What do you want to use it for, sir ?" queried the dealer, blandly. "Party." "Dancing party ?" "Yes, sir." "For one night $3. This is the price of a full suit?trousers, coat, and vest. Without the trousers I will knock off $1. Do you want a suit now, sir ?" "Want it next week." "Well, that's luck. All orders for this week are gone." "Does anything go with the suit?" queried the young man softly. "In what.way?" "Shoes, collar, shirt, necktie?" "No, sir." "Can you furnish the whole complete?" "For double the price, yes, sir; patent leathers and all for double the price." "Diamond?" "A large sparkler for your shirt, 50 cents extra. There, that's just right, $0.50. Thank you, sir. I'll have a first class outfit ready the day you mention." "Big trade?" queried the reporter of The Free Press, as the young customer disappeared. "well, rather," said the dealer, smiling. ? "Thirty suits let out for that same affair already. His order makes thirty one." Generally the Way.?Police Magistrate?Madam, in the complaint filed at the police station yesterday you say your husband got drunk, beat you cruelly, broke up the furniture and drove yourself and the children out of the house. Yet you say now he has always been a good and kind husband, and you have no complaint to make against him. How is this ? Wife (tearfully)?I?I?was excited your honor. Police Magistrate?But how about those bruises and discoloration on your face, madam ? How did you get tbem ? They're not bruises your honor. They're ?they're dirt, your honor." "And how did you get that lump over your eye ?" "It was always there, your honor." "Your clothes are all torn." "Yes, your honor. I?1 generally wear them that way." "And you have your thumb tied up." "I put a rag around it so I'd remember something I promised to get the children." "*r- J 11-" oViAtira iTAlir VlllGU lUUUHIIl, uie eviUCiil'C oiivrro T ~ band to be a drunken, idle, worthless vagabond, and I am satisfied he beats and abuses you. I shall fine him three dollars and cost." (Meekly) "I'll pay it for him, your honor."?[Chicago Tribune. Lost is a Cotton Field.?Col. Anie Gatewood, of Americus, Ga., was telling a number of farmers the other day about his magnificent cotton crop, and during the conversation told the following startling story, which The Americus Times gives its readers: His cotton is so thick ana tall that the sun's rays cannot penetrate between the rows, and consequently it is very dark in the fields even at midday. Last week, a twelve-year-old boy, a son of one of his tenants, went to the field to carry his father's breakfast, and, missing his way in the dense cotton, completely lost his way. The tenant, becoming alarmed at the non-appearance of his boy at the regular time, went to the house and secured help to institute a search, as he well knew that the boy would never find his way out of the cotton field unaided. Men, mounted on mules in order that they could see about them, rode for hours through the dense, dark field of cotton, firing guns and calling loudly to attract the attention of the lost boy, while sky rockets and Roman candles were fired at intervalsinto thecotton, in the hope that he might see the light and make his presence known. Finally after many weary hours had been spent in the big fields searching for the boy, he was found fast asleep in the forks of a cotton stalk some five feet from the ground. ? < Advice.?A horse stood tied to post in a barn on Farmer street, when a pedestrian halted for a moment and looked in. A man came across the street and joined him, and ten seconds later a third came around the corner and stopped. GPooo Af n iioriDn nnp Ui WilV VJ WVl ivv* V/"V. "Looks like hots to me," replied a second. "Say, that horse ought to be bled!" exclaimed a fourth man as he came up. "Bled! He's got the toothache." put in the fifth. "I should say," mildly observed the sixth man, "that he had caught a heavy cold and needed a warm bath." When the crowd increased to twenty, and everyone had expressed an opinion, a hostler appeared from the back end of the barn. "What are you doing for him ?" asked one. "Giving him six quarts of oats and all the hay he can eat," was the reply. "But isn't he sick?" "Never sick a minute in all his life. Please move on before some one sends in an alarm of fire."?[Detroit Free Press. He stopped on the corner, gazed into ^ the sky, scratched his chin, and pulled his whiskers. Then he fumbled in his vest 1 i pocket, wrinkled his brow, pursed up his lips, scratched his head, and Dlew his nose with a manner more deliberate than the collection of a bad debt. Anon he opened his mouth, tugged at his lower lip, muttered to himself, and fixed his eyes on the chimney tops in a vacant stony stare that soon collected a crowd that blockaded the sidewalk. He was a married man, trying to think what it was his wife had charged him to be sure to get. I6T During the past century of their history the Moravians have sent out twentyfive thousand missionaries and expended .hree hundred thousand dollars annually for missions. A A