Sclf-Sufllcing.
1 know u luko among the hills.
Serene uml bright and full and free,
Unfed by ?uiy mountain rills,
And with 110 outlet to tho sea.
And yet I marvel if thero bo
Foundunywhere through all tho land;
.So epld-and-juwel-rimm'd a cup,
As Nature with her llebo hand
iiere brims, and kneeling, offors up.
Its molten surface gives tho sky
I11 softest sapphire beauty buck;
And when the storm coniw scudding by,
Dark with its stress of tluiuder-ruck?
Although its blue be lingud with black,
Tho tempest has no power to dash
The eieuniy swell against the shoro,
JNor with defiant onset, lush
The ripple to a sullen roar.
From secrot sources storoil away
Beiteuth its own sweet witter, flows
"The unseen strength, that day by duy
Keeps It in such supreme repose
As never shallow current shows:
Its edges flash with tender groen,
That lures from far the hungry hords,
And in its stooping copse tire seen
Tno nests of thousand brooding birds.
Oh, for a nature like the luku's.
A-gleam maid our smuttier hills !
Tbat un^rudgotl its own, nor takes;
That ever keeps its calm, ami stills
Its heart, self-centred, even when ills
Impeud with drift of tempeat-foam;
Thut woos tho Tvenry, anil uhovo
All other, wenvea a nested homo
For every wandering win?c of love !
~?Martjarcl I'\ Preston, in IVomun's Journal.
A LITTLE SURPRISE. '
It was a chilly November night
whfen the train got into llampden.
XArtllipmril \V?V5 U1113 UJL tuust? new, uu- ,
finished places which required the
brightest of sunlight, thu greenest (
frame of quivering leaves, to make 1
them at all presentable. And in the
gray, uncompromising medium of the 1
November dusk, Hampden looked
dreary enough, with the dark chimneys
of the new silk mill rising out of
the hemlock woods, the staring Queen
Anne depot, the church, which bore a ,
strong family resemblance to a child's 1
wooden toy, and the stone quarry to
the left, which reminded the thoughtful
looker-on of a gigantic fortification
in an unfinished state.
"Humph!" said Mrs. Nedley, as she
I looked around her. "A queer place!"
I Her niece, Phebe, was there to meet
I her, with a box-wagon and a white- ft
nosed old horse. \
"Folks can't always choose where
H they're to live," said Phebe, who was 1
-always in a state of antagonism to i
Mrs. Nedley. "And Hampden is good
-enougli for me!"
"How is Philip?" said Mrs. Nedley. j
"Philip is well," said Phebe, as she ?
helped the depot-boy to hoist Aunt ;
^Nodley'8 trunk into the wagon. ,
Philip Barrow was Mrs. Nedley's
favorite nephew. She had paid his i
bills at school, superintended his for1
tunes, and finally purchased for him a .
I share in the new silk mills.
I "He's all I've got," said Mrs. NedI
ley, "except Phebe, and Phebe and I
I never did hitch horses together. And i
I I want him to succeed in the world."
| But within a few dayB a new claim
ant had arisen to Aunt Nedley's pro- ]
tection and tender consideration.
"To-be-sure she is no relation to
me,** said Mrs. Nedley. "But her i
mother was my dearest friend, and I
think I will adopt her 'for my own.' " ]
And it was scarcely an hour from |
the time in which she learned that
B Silvia Grey was an orphan, that she
wrote a kind letter to the girl, invitWm
ing her to come to the East for a visit, i
HH ' "If you like it, mv dear, there need
be no occasion for your ever going
back," she wrote. "We are both alone, i
JLet us be companions to one another."
She had waited and waited, and no
^^^Breply had arrived; and while she waitH^H(
d, a plan had developed itself in her
^^^nuind.
?'Tf ahft 1Q hpr mnthnr'a HonrrVifor- I
^^JHlie can't help being pretty," said Mrs.
7>wedley. "Phil is a handsome lad.
I ?io shall marry Phil !"
I BAnd this explains Mrs. Nedley's
I wsence at Ilampden.
I ?"I suppose you are still keeping
llov.se for Philip?'' said she to Phebe,
?l tliey drove along in the chill twi
r'No," said Phebe, skillfully guiding
H the old horse down a steep place in the
- road.
"He boards, eh?" said Mrs. Nedley.
"No, he don't board," answered
V < Phebe. "His wife keeps house for
him."
H| "What?" said Mrs. Ned ley.
"He is married," announced Phebe,
very much in the tone in which she
I might have said "It is a cold evening,"
or "The train is late."
Philip marriedV' repeated the old
lidy?1"niarried ! Stop, Phebe?don't
drive a step further ! Turn around at
onca Take me to the station. I'll
retufn tAConcord."
''Ain'tV'ou going to see Philip?"
Asked Phejbe.
"Not iflhe is married," answered
Mrs. Nedl?*. iu a choked voice.
"He's j? * proper nice wife,*'
pleaded I W "You'll like her."
"No, I shan't!" said Mrs. Nedley.
"Philip?married ! Phebe, if you don't
turn around, I'll get out and walk!"
Mrs. Nedley's will was like adamant,
and Phebe Barrow was forced to succumb
to it
And so it happeued that Phebe and
the white-nosed pony arrived, solitary
and alone, at the little cottage of the
mill superintendent half an hour after
ward.
Phil came out into the porch, carrying
a lamp in his hand.
Mrs. Phil ran after him with a pink
apron tied around her trim waist, and
her brown fringe of hair blowing back
from her forehead.
"Where's my aunt?" said Phil, as
Phebe jumped out. "Didn't sho
come?"
"She came," said Phebe, curtly; "but
she's gone oack again."
"Gone back again ?"
"Yes. She didn't like it because
vnu'vA rrnf mnrriprl on sIia's nrnno had.
J - O .--I
by the eight-six train."
"Oh, Phil !" cried Mrs. Barrow, who
was a round, cherry-che?kod little
woman, with soft, hazel eyes and a
mouth like a red rosebud, "what shall
we do? Why didn't you consult her
before you married me?"
Phil Barrow broke into a great
laugh.
"My dear," said he, "it wasn't her
consent I wanted; it was yours."
"Oh! But, Phil, she has done so
much for you."
"She's a good soul, but she's eccentric,"
said the mill superintendent.
"Go in, Phebe, and get your tea."
"I'm sure I can't eat a mouthful,"
.aM T>u: 1 J- i ? "A--*
sum i mi, weapuii uigiy. "\rt.nu
the biscuits I mixed myself; and the
fried chicken; and the White Mountain
cake? Oh, Phil! oh. Phil 1"
"Don't fret, dear !" said Phil. "My
Aunt Nedley has missed a very good
jupper; that I can tell her !"
"But I've blighted your future!"
said Mrs. Bartow, tragically seizing
the sugar-tongs.
"We'll go to Concord to-morrow,
and see the old lady," soothed PhlL
"She must surrender if she sees you,
wifey 1"
Phebe chuckled grimly.
"That's all very well,*' said she;
"but you forget that an old lady and a
jroung man don't look at a girl with
the same eyes."
"Hold your tongue, Phebe!" said
the mill superintendent. "Where's
the use of always croaking?"
And then Mrs. Phil began to laugh,
;ind Phebe, who, after her crabbed
fashion, was fond of her pretty young
sister-in-law, laughed also. And,
after all, the dainty little supper was
eaten and enjoyed, even though Aunt
Nedley's face was steadfastly turned
toward Concord.
Her own fireside had never seemed
30 solitary and dreary as it did upon
that November night.
The maids, gossiping in the kitchen,
were called up to re-kindle the dead
fire. The tea, smoky and half-cold,
was served, and Mrs. Nedley was just
resolving to go to bed. when Betsey
brought a letter.
"Postman, mum, he left it a week
ago," said she. "It had fell down
back of the letter-box." ,
"Ah," said Mrs. Nedley, fitting on
her spectacles and scrutinizing the
3eal and directions, "from Silvia Grey.
Now I shall have some one to love It
Philip's place!"
But she had not read three lines
before she flung the letter indignantly
on the sulking fire.
"Married !" she exclaimed. "That
child ! Is everybody crazy to get
married, I wonder? And she hopes
I'll excuse her, but her husband
thinks? Folly and nonsense! What
is her husband to me? Betsey, my
chamber candle!"
- .oiesa me, inn am; saia isetsey.
"What has happened?"
'Everything!" exclaimed Mrs. Nedley.
"Don't let me be called before
eight o'clock to-morrow morning. I
almost wish that I could go to sleep
and sleep forever!"
And Mrs. Xeriley, in the silence and
solitude of her own room, fell to thinking
to what institution she could
leave her money.
She was sitting at her luncheon the
next day, with the cockatoo on one
side of her and the poodle on the
other, when Betsey opened the door.
"Please, ma'am," said Betsey, "company?"
"Betsey," said Mrs. Nedley, severely.
"I told you I was not at home to
anybody to-day!"
"Please, ma'am," giggled Betsey,
"he mould come in I"
"Who would come in?" said Mrs.
Nedley.
"It's me, Aunt Nedley," said Philip
Barrow, "and my wife. Don't be
vexed!" ^
The tall youlte mill superintendent
came in, with his pretty wife leaning
on bis arm.
"Won't yon kiss me, Aunt Nedley,"
naid Mrs. Phil, putting up the rosebud
lipa?"for my mother's sake?"
, , f * *
: V. ' Y\ >. v'.; .
"Eh?" said Mrs. Nedley.
"Didn't you get my letter?" saic
Philip's wife.
"Letter!"
Mrs. Nedley was more convinced
than ever that she was asleep anr
dreaming.
"I wrote you all about it," said Mrs
Phil. "Don't you know? I am Silvit
Grey. I met Philip when he came oul
to DeDver to look at the new mill-ma
chinery, and he would be married immediately.
lie said he was sure yoi
would forgive him. Will you forgiv*
him, Aunt Nedley?"
"Yes, my dear, I will," said Mrs
Nedley, her face brightening up lik<
the full moon peeping through mist
wreaths. "But why didn't they tel
me you were Silvia Grey ?"
"Philip wanted to surprise you."
said Silvia, hanging her head.
"Well, he has surprised me," saic
Mrs.
She went back to Hampden with th<
mill superintendent and his wife, ant
slept in the pretty pink-and-white bed
room which Silvia had prepared foi
her with so much pains; and she prais
ed Silvia's chicken-salad and prunepies,
and she even condescended to ap
prove of Phebe's half-completed sill
counterpane; for life was all couleut
de rose for her now.
It is a great thing for a woman ol
Mrs. Nedley's age to have her owe
way !?Helen Forrest Graves.
Texas Rirors.
The Texas river is an institution
that is peculiarly Texan. In tht
southern portion of the State many ol
liib rivers ana streams manage 10 gei
along during the summer with very
little water. Near El Paso it has frequently
occurred that the natives
have had to dig wells in the dry bed
of the Rio Grande, in order to get
drinking water. For many miles tin
river bed was as dry as two volume.'
of the Congressional Record.
The writer has crossed the Nueces
river without knowing it. The dusl
was so thick thai he did not perceive
that the road crossed the dry bed ol
the river. About two hours after ]
crossed the Nueces river withoul
knowing it, a tidal wave six feet high
came rolling down the river bed. Six
hours afterward the river had risen
thirty feet, and before twenty-four
hours had passed away the river in
some places was upward of three miles
wide, and at the place where I stirrec
up the dust the raging waters were
deep enough to Moat the Great Eastern.
The Cibolo is a creek, between Austin
and Antonio, that for many miles
runs almost altogether under ground.
It consists of a succession of pools. The
water sinks out of sight, and reappears
a mile or so distant. The banks of the
Cibolo are quite steep, and in some
places are forty or fifty feet, which
makes it very difficult for wagons to
cross, particularly in wet weather.
The San Antonia, Comal, San Marcos,
Gaudaloupe, Brazos, and Sabine
rivers do not become actually dry, but
in summer th.ey dwindle away to almost
nothing. The statement that th<
water gets so low that the catfish hav<
to stand on their heads and fan themselves
with their tails to keep cool ii
exaggerated a little.
The habit the Texas rivers have of
rising sixty feet in twenty-four hours
makes the building of railroads very
expensive in Texas. The bridges ovei
the apparently most insignificant
streams have to be made very high,
and of the most durable material.
When a stranger sees an immense
bridge over a small stream, he is in
clined to suggest that the people sell
the bridge and buy some water to put
in the creek, but after there has been i
rise it would be more appropriate to
sell some water to buy a new bridge.?
A. E. Sweet in Texas Si/tings.
Almost nti Editor.
The other day the man who draws
ashes away from two or three news
paper offices dumped a load on Gar
field avenue, beyond the pavement.
in no urae at an a score or roiaot
women and children were pawing
over the load in search of treasures
and one child came across a larg<
piece of old roller composition. H<
washed off the ashes in a mud puddle
near by, but had only taken one bit<
when along caine a Folack laborer anc
"held him up" for the stuff. Hi
broke a bite, smacked his lips am
started for home with the priz<
wrapped up in an old coat.
Although press rollers are composet
of nothing worse than glue and roolas
ses, it is quite probable that ere thi:
the Polack has been taken with i
"spell" and sent for a doctor. If thi
doctor has been puzzled over the com
plaint this will give him an eye-open
er, and if the Polack has bemoane<
his greenness in picking up taffy hi
may be consoled by the thought tha
"the path of the roller leads to th<
editorial sanctum."?Detroit Fre
Prxss.
Ufivy. i J 1 iy r. v.
i RICHMOND IN WAR TIMES.
i
Tli? Confederate Capital 13c- ?
fore Lee's Surrender.
I
l Making Purchases with Depreciated
Confederate Currencyt
"VVe quote from an article by T. J
t Murray in the Washington Rvpubli.
can on life in Richmond during the
. civil war:
i I have been asked how the peo4
pie of Richmond managed to get food
during the closing days, when Confed.
ate currency was so fearfully deprecia)
ted. And first, I will say that, although
the bluebacks were so much
I depreciated, if you only had enough of
thein you could purchase anything you
' wished, and the volume of notes in circulation
was Immense. I recollect
I lhat a fellow from Jefferson county
who, on some plea or other, was ox- ]
j cmpt from service, and who was ex- ]
i ceeumgiy convivial in 111s naoits, I j
- whenever he wished to make purcha- I i
te3 or visit the saloons or faro banks, I i
was accustomed to be followed by a <
ntalwart negro bearing a large
- valise crammed to the brim with the j
[ Confederate tokens of indebtedness, ]
perhaps a hundred thousand dollars or
so, and he never "braced up" until he j
f had got rid of the entire pile, and it (
i didn't take him long, either, to do so.
Contrary to the common belief, there
was no lack of provisions or
delicacies in Richmond at any time ,
1 during the war, but the prices, msas- i
' ured by alleged dollars, were simply
stupendous. I do not remember that <
there was actual suffering among the
people, although food and drink were, i
of course, economically dealt with. I
5 recollect, also, that there was a bread
riot of so large proportions as to call
forth the intervention of the military, i
| but the women, black and white, who
were the chief participants, were of the j j
lowest class, and were instigated not by i i
1 want so much as by pure deviltry.
^ It is a curious fact that what are called
the lowest classes fared .better, so
far as provisons were concerned, than
^ the office-holders or the wealthier class'
es. The salaries of the office-holders. ,
1 both Confederate and state, we^egross1
ly inadequate to provide for their fam- ,
ilies, and the wealthier citizens at the
ourset or tne war bad invested, almost ,
without exception, all their available
1 means in the 8 per cent, bonds of the
Confederate government. Those who
owned slaves by hiring them out o b ,
tained large returns, for l^bor was in
great demand; but the trouble was
that the Confederate authorities con- <
I 1
scripted all able-bodied negroes as drivers
of mule teams, laborers on the fortifications,
etc., just as they conscripted j
1 able-bodied whites for service in the ,
1 field, and the hire given to the masters ,
was but a tithe of what could have ^
1 been procured in open market.
> 1
Talk about Washington being a city ,
of boardiug houses and restaurants. <
( "Why it was not a circumstance to the j
Confederate capital. Nearly every |
house, and especially of people of limi- ,
tflli mrtnnu W:>? flllrtH wif'n IrtfliTOra ?>? !
J - ? ? ?v>MW| ?? MW 1VV? M I WU IWI^Cl kl, auu |
, nearly every other house was an eat- |
ing-house. The poor whites and |
j blacks made money hand over fist by (
cooking provisions and selling them '
i from stands on the streets and at the <
( depots, to the huge swarms of hungry <
people who were constantly coming
. and going. ' The population proper of ,
? Richmond was not a fourth of the ]
vast crowd that daily and nightly con- |
gregated within its corporate limits. |
} It was the Mecca of the Confederacy, \
and the pilgrimages mnde thereto |
were constant in their coming. Officers
and soldiers, Jewish merchants, "exAmtsto
* 1 1\1 . V/ll'.* ?-| rt Mil ? n
^ vuipto, i'ivA/i\?iuc'i uuuci3f IOiU^Ot/9
( from Maryland and West Virginia and
from the counties of the state held by <
Federals, poured in a steady stream i
into the lap of the city, and the people i
of the city made their living, and. in- i
< deed, it may be said, in many instan
ees, waxed fat, in feeding and lodging
the hungry horde.
: America Ahead.
5 George Alfred Townsend says: I i
, think there are not more than three
3 nations on the earth which can com- :
5 pete with the Americans in the manu?
lacturing spirit?Germany considered 1
3 as a whole. Great Britain, France. <
I There is hardly anything to be made .
5 which the Americans do not make. <
i Many things ihey make better and '
j cheaper than elsewhere on the globe. 1
You take all the components of a
1 house, and a house is much of life, and
- the Americans can probably build a 1
a cheaper house than any existing na- '
Ft tion. They can also furnish that i
b house cheaper than any other. They '
- can probably dress man' and woman i
- as cheap as any nation but one or two, 1
i and 1 fancy that if they were hard put i
b to the test they could dress people i
t cheaper that any other country, <
* though in some paints of manufacture
t they would fall below thu general. !
standard.
, - - ' vV: i* .: :
1 1
Lager.
During a famous trial some years
unce, soon after "lager" found its way
to America, evidence was introduced
to show that the beverage was not intoxicating.
Old-time imbibers one after
the other testified as to capacity
af stomach and steadiness of head until
the climax was reached in a worthy
lescendant of "old King Cole," who
claimed an ability to dispose of sixty
glasses at a single sitting. The advocates
of total abstinence stood aghast
at the disclosure, while the moderate
irinkers retreated in disorder. Our
Teutonic brethren are the chief mak3r3
as well as chief drinkers of this
other beverage, that according to this
modern King Cole, "cheers but not
Inebriates." Nineteen-twentieths of
the brewers in the Union are owned
find orifirat.fld hv Herman a and a a a
-I * ""
rule the cities which show the largest
proportion of this foreign element exhibit
also the largest beer-producing
interest According to the ratio of
population, Milwaukee leads off as
lirst on the list, as this is its chief industry;
only New York and Philadelphia
exceed it in aggregate production,
followed closely by St. Louis, Brooklyn,
Cincinnati, Boston. Chicago, and
Newark, in the order named. These
nine cities represent five-eighths of the
antire production of the country,
while In proportion to the capital in
vested Milwaukee again leads the list,
with only one manufacturing interest
exceeding that of beer in St. Louis and
Cincinnati, and but two in New York
and Boston. An industry which takes
such a prominent position among the
productions of the world, calling for
the highest perfection and the development
of the latest resources in scientific
discovery, and which is exceeded
in the capital invested by only five
others (metal products, cotton goods,
woolen and worsted goods, lumber,
and grist) in our own land, may well
claim attention.?Harper's Magazine.
PonHlnir
MVMMIUb BiTVi;UlIU?l
"lie has read everything" is a frequent
remark made when a scholarly
man is under discussion. How absurd
such a statement Is will appear
when the fact is mentioned that in the
Congressional Library at Washington
there are over 600,000 volumes. If
they were placed side by side they
would fill a shelf fifty miles long. If
a man started to read this collection at
the rate of one volume a day.it would
take him 1650 years to get through,
and while the man would be at work
on this vast library the printers would
be turning out more than 15,000 now
books a year. From these figures it
will be seen that it is idle to think of
reading everything, or even to read all
the best books. The greatest readers
among our distinguished men have
had their favorite books, which they
read and reread. Certain books in
our language are called classics. They
are models of style and full of ideas and
illustrations. Modern writers go to
these old authors and get lumps of
3olid gold which they proceed to beat
out vefy thin. Why should we take
the gold leaf article when we can go
to the original mines and get solid nuggets?
The old novels are the best.
The old poets have not been equalled.
Too many of our new books are written
hastily t? sell. They are of an in
ferior quality and can not profit us in
any way. A man. therefore, need not
be ashamed to say that he has not read
the last new book. When forty new
books appear every day it is impossible
to read them all.?Atlanta Constitution.
A Cannibal's Sentence.
All Colorado people remember A1
Packer, the man-eater, who in the
early days of Hinsdale county killed
and devoured a number of the first
settlers of that region. He was captured
only a couple of years ago, and
is now iD jail at Gunnison. A paper
of that town says: "He amuses him
self during the long hours of the day
by making fanciful chains and picture
frames from cigar-box wood. He is
an expert ut the business." Mention
of him revives interest in the way a
native of the Gunnison country. paralyzed
a Boston excursionist by telling
him how Judge Gerry sentenced Packer,
the cannibal. It is a fact that
Judge Gerry's sentence was a model
of its kind, but the native referred to
was altogether too enthusiastic. S;iid
he: "The Judge give it to him strong
and good. Says he to him, 'Stand up,
yer cannibal.' " "Then did he stand
up?" timidly asked the excursionist
"Betcher life," replied the native,, "he
stud up, and the J edge sez he to him.
yer a niee sort of a patriotic citizen,
ain't ye? Here right at a time when
there were only eight men in the country,
you must go to work and eat up
Ave of 'era. It's a great pity the law
can't do more to you than hang you,
which it will on sich and sich a day.
Set down, ye monopoly-raawed cannibal/
flfco {Col) News. j
'
When Day Moots Night.
I
Out to the we?t tho spoilt day kifsos night,
And with one parting glow of passion die*
In gold and red; a womun's wistful oyo?
< Look out across tho hills, u band of light
l'luya on her parted hair, thoro softly dwells, ->s
And throws a glory o'er her girlish dream;
Tho Bheep slow nestle down beside thai
stream.
And cuttle -wander with their tinkling bells.
The clouds, sun-flushod, cling 'round the day'/*
deoline;
The woman'j eyo? grow tender; shadow^
creep;
Gold turns to gray; a sharp dividing line
Parts earth and heaven. Adown the westeri*
height
The calm cold dark has kissed tho da/ to
sloop;
Tho wistful eyes look out across the night.
?Charles fV. Cole.man, in Harper'*?
HUMOROUS.
nrnL? L ..1. I ? i ?
I jl i'juu ucau?xuo utiugiiijr uuatv*
crat.
The bird for literary men?The reed
bird.
, The woman question: "Xow isn't
this a pretty time o? night for you to
get home?"
"Good gracious !" said the hen, when
she discovered porcelain eggs in her
nest, "I shall be a bricklayer next."
"The battle is not always to the
strong," said the judge as he awarded
the butter premium at a county fair.
An organist who advertised for vonnllQt.Q
fr\r a phnrnli nhnlr Vinorln/1 Wa
advertisement : "Good chants for the
right parties."
Mrs. Montague: "Do you sing, Mr.
De Lyle?" Mr. De Lyle (with a superior
smile): "I belong to the college
glee club." Mrs. Montague (disappointed):
"Oh, I'm so sorry. 1 hoped
that you sang."
"Tbey have discovered footprints
three feet long in the sands of Oregon,
supposed to belong to a lost race." It
is impossible to conceive how a race
that made footprints three feet long
could get lost.
Dude?"You love me, then, Miss
Lydia?" Lydia?"Love is perhaps
somewhat too much to say. At least
1 have sympathy for you, because your
face resembles so much that of my
poor dead Fido."
"He's not what you call strictly
handsome," said the major, beaming,
through his glasses on a homely baby
that lay howling in his mother's arms,
"but it's the kind of face that grows
on you." "It's not the kind of face
that ever grew on you," was the indignant
and unexpected reply of the
maternal being ; "you'd be better lookif
u i,?.1 t??
111^ A A. lb Uttll ;
The Boy that Was Baricd.
A Madrid (Spain) letter tells this
story of the cholera epidemic: In Ulea,
Murcia, there was attacked a man of
over middle age, the father of a family,
and also his little boy, aged 11,
called Jose Gomez. The father died,
and a few days after, at 6 in the afternoon,
the boy died also, and was carried
immediately to the churchyard, at
the same time when the gravedigger
was finishing his day's toil. He viewed
the last arrival, but although the
grave was almost filled up he threw in
the dead body and went away. Upon
the next morning, as he opened the
cemetery gate, the first thing he saw
was Jose Gomez, almo^t, naked, just as
he was buried, amufeing himself.
"Hullo!" exclaimed the astonished
gravedigger, "who took you out of
that?" "Nobody," replied the boy,
cheerfully, "I camo out myself."
"Bueno (good); come here, I wish to
speak to you." El chico (the little
one), believing that he was to b?
treated to another burial, began to
run, and did not stop until he reached
his mother's cottage, whom he frightened
out of hor wits, as she believed
K?.i ~ r?? *v_ -n 'J
no uiin uuaiu xiuiii uiu uLner wunu.
"Where is your father?" was the first
question put by the poor woman. "Oh,
he stayed there; but give mo something
to eat, mother, for I am vory
hungry." Tho mother broke out into
cries and lamentations, and the neighbors
crowded in and tried to surround
the chico, who fled and endeavored to
hide himself, believing firmly those
attempts were premonitory of another
funeral. In tho end he was caught
and put to bed, all the time protesting
that his one malady was hungej. So
they gave him his brsakfast, and now
he is the pride of the village as he
runs about stoning dogs, which, it
seems, was his favorite recreation
before he was attacked by cholera.
The final touch in the story is a striking
Instance of the truth of what the
poet sang: "They change their sky,
not their dispositions, who go across
the seas."
Willing to Work.
Country girl (addressing robust v
tramp)?Why don't you go to. work'*
Tramp (looking hungrily around)-,
t would if I had the tools.
Country girl?What sort of, tools
'do you want? ^ '
Tramp?Knife and fork.?RambUrn* f