pt"' L . fe LOVE AND DEATH. IHfe may hold sweotnoss yet; I would not die; For He might come with smiles upou his lip, Thon from my heart tho woary years would slip, -And I should greet him with a joyouB cry, Forgiving and forgetting all tho past, Just for the sake of love como back at last, Ob, life may yet bo sweet; I would not die. Child, Fate bas not beon kind to you and me; Your baby kiBses could not ease my pain; Whilo in that other face I looked in vain I"orBign8 of what I knew could never bo, Often I drew away your clinging grasp, To Beck again that coltl and careless clasp, No; life baa not beon kind to you and me. And Death is coming. Ab, will Death be kind ? Will he, some day, bring mo my truant love ? Or shall I iloat In ether pure above, Passionless, sexless, and not hopo to lind Him who made life a blessing and a curse ? Will Death bring hotter, happier times, or worse ? Ah, Death is coming fast; will he be kind? Love, have you never known one bitter hour? Never looked back with tender, sweet regret To that past happy summer when we mot, When first I knew my beauty ? fatal .?, dower !? Had chained your roaming fancy ? What a chain ! Woven in madness from despair and pain, And idly worn to kill an idle hour. - I Child, listen to me: Love is worse than Death; * For Death talces all, but Love takes fruit and bloom. And leaves the worthless husk to rot in B'ooin, It takes tlio crown from life; tho woary breath Must labor on until Death brings relief, And blots out all tlie weariness and grief, Ah, Love iB ciuil; merciful is death. ? Chainherx'x Journal. CRUISE OF THE ICICLE. BV JULIA lv. HII.DUKTH. "Zugene, conic down to Mr. Turner's boat-house. Ho has just fastened his ice-boat up, and 1 want to see how it is made." 4 "Do you mean that queer looking thing we saw flying over the ice yesterday, Steve?" 1. .1:^1 ? - jl uo. uui juu uvci slx an y illlllg go I so fast? I wish 1 had one.'' . "So do I. How splendid it would be to go skimming over the ice before the wind like that!" Eugene Bently and Stephen Hules lived in the little village of Mossbauk, on the Hudson. The winter had set in very early that year, and already the river was frozen hard for miles. The boys had enjoyed themselves greatly skating near the shore, until one day Mr. Turner, a gentleman who owned a handsome house close to the bank, purchased a strange-looking craft, half sled, half boat. It moved over the ice with such ease and swiftness that Eugene and Stephen, who had never seen an ice-boat before, became quite disgusted with their slower mode of progress, and Stephen secretly determined to have one like it if possible. ^fhi>n t.lift linvo rnnoliorl Afr Tumni-'o boat-house there was no one in sight, so they felt free to examine and comment on the boat at their leisure. . ^ "Why it is nothing but a three-cornered frame on runners," said Stephen Hules, after he had walked around the ice -boat several times. "And the sail is exactly like your father's yacht-sail, only smaller," exclaimed EUgene. "I tell you what I mean to do, Eugene." cried Stephen, excitedly. "I mean to ask father to let me use the spar, boom and sail of the yacht, then we can make an ice-boat for ourselves." "Do you think so?" said Eugene, doubtfully. "See here, Steve, the runner in the stern moves on a pivot, and is guided by the helm." "I see," replied Stephen, admiringly. In less than an hour the boys were busy selecting materials for their iceboat, as Stephen had received permission to use the yaclit-sail, providing he did not in any way spoil it for the \acht. It was not until five o'clock the next day that theirs was completed; then when they hauled the frame out of the shed to step the mast and put a few finishing touches here and there, Eugene 4 brought out a small pot of red paint and a brush. 'Well, now, Steve,"said he, "what are you going to call it?" "I've got it I" cried Stephen. "Call her the Icicle." "First-rate," exclaimed Eugene, kneeling down, and proceeding to form the letters across the bow. When this was finished it was quite dark, and the boys were obliged to de- j fer their trial-trip until the next day. The next day as soon as they had finished breakfast, Eugene and Stephen made haste to pull their ice-boat down to the fiver. The wind was fresh, the sky cloudless, and the ice as solid as stone. The boat proved a grand success, and flow over the stirface of the fro/en " water of the Hudson River with astonishing velocity. Eugene managed the iiii.. t.'i. >1. _ ? .1-1 ? biner, wane oiepnen eook cnargc 01 tne sail and sheet line. The Icicle could sail before the wind, tack, and come about just like a sail-boat, only with much more ease and swiftness. They had been out less than an hour when Mr. Turner appeared on the shore. After looking at the Icicle earnestly for a moment, he climbed into his own boat and drew rapidly toward them. When he was within a few yards he called out: "Why, boys, who made your iceboat?" "We made it ourselves, Mr. Turner, ' replied Scephen. "It is only a rough, looking affair, but it seems to work all v right. "It is a little rough, it is true, but that is of no consequcnce at all," said Mr. Turner, inspecting the boat closcly. 41 You have built it for speed, I see. You carry rather more sail than I think exactly safe. You had better drop the peak when you catch a gust. Wjll you try her against the Ice Queen?" "Yes. sir, thank you," cried the boys in concert, for they were greatly flattered and pleased by Mr. Turner's proposal. Mr. Turner brought the Ice Queen within a few feet of the Iricle. The two boats presented a great contrast?one with its lily-wlnte sail, smooth, red frame and shining gilt letters, and the othnr llf >1 uniform frrfl v pnl/ir lior onil ? t.**v "VI u"4t old and patched in many places, though large and strong. Eugene felt rather dismayed as he noticed the difference, but Stephen whispered, encouragingly: "We will beat, I am sure." "I think," said Mr. Turner, "it will be safer to go up the river, for down below the bend the ice is thin." 44Yes, sir," replied Eugene. "Father told me it was dangerous down there this morning." "Then," said Mr. Turner, "we will go up as far as the fisherman's house, and back to my grounds. 1 am sure of the ice so far. Now, boys, when you are ready I am." They started, and before many minutes Stephen and Eugene learned the truth of the proverb "All is not gold that glitters," for the little gray Icicle soon shot ahead of its line rival. The boys felt as though they would never grow tired of this delightful sport. The keen wind whistled about their ears and brought the bright color into their checks ns they rushed past the snow-covered banks over the shining ice. And, besides, there was the Ice Queen behind them, urging them on to greater exertions. The two boats went up and down several times, and always with the same result. When they rearhed the boat house for the fifth time, Mr. Turner sprang out and said, laughingly: "It is very plain to see which is the better boat. Hut we will try it over again to-morrow." Then he bade the two bovs crood-bve and returned to his house. The next morning they were out again, and so was Mr. Turner. He taught them several things about the management of their boat, arid Stephen and Eugene thought him very kind and friendly. In this way a week passed. But one night it grew quite warm and rained hard. Then it was found that the ice had broken up at many points along the river, so the boys were obliged to wait for eolder weather before venturing o.n it again. After a little while, however, another cold spell came, and the ice seemed as hard cs ever. Stephen and Eugene were rejoiced at this, and prepared the Icicle for a good long trip. When they reached the center of the river they found that the wind blew a perfect gale, and the Icicle skipped and hopped along as though she might at any moment be lifted bodily into the air ; so. at last, for fear of an accident, they were obliged to follow Mr. Turner's advice and drop the peak ?that is, loosen the rope that supports the upper corner of the sail and allow the stall to fall down, which reduces the size of the sail considerably. The Ivicle ran along very smoothly after this. They had sailed a long distance down the river, when Eugene called out: "I say, Steve, I can see clear watci ahead." Steve stood up cautioush*. Then he said: "Put her about. Eugene! I sec water, too. The ice seems to have been driven all over to the east shore." Eugene obeyed, and they turned back. When the}* reached Mossbank, Stephen said: ''There is Mr. Turner. Suppose wc go and ask him if he will have another race to-day." As they drew near the shore, however, h little girl came running down toward the boat-house. Stephen stopped the Icicle "by putting down the brake, which was a sharp iron spike fixed for that purpose near the centre of the frame, and which, by driving into the ice, checked the speed of the boat. This was an invention of the two bovs. "I will wait until the little girl has gone," said Stephen, hesitating, and looking toward Mr. Turner. T1..1 i.1 1 - J * * .out me iiuiv gin st'cmeu to nave no intention of going away just yet. She came skipping and sliding down the bank like a snowHakc, her yellow hair streaming out from under her little white fur cap, and her small hands thrust into a tiny white mull. "Uncle James! Uncle James! Is that your ice-boat ?" she cried. 4 'Please let mo have just one little bit of a slide, mamma said I might ask you." ' That's just like a girl," muttered Eugene. "They are always teasing to go where they arc not wanted. Now our fun is spoiled. Of course Mr. Turner won't race with that midget in his boat. The wind would blow her away." Stephen laughed. "I don't think much of girls myself," said lie, "but I suppose they have aa good ri ?nil Vio/1 , ... 1 I cast one end of the sheet line about the ! eleat. This was safe enough so long as \ the boat remained with its head to the wind. Rut some frolicsome movement of the little girl's had shifted the position of the light craft. It had swung around, and straining hard at its fastening , finally broke away. It rudder had been jammed among the mass of rope*, carelessly left in the boat, so that it held firm, and away went the Ice Queen at headlong speed, with the Icicle in pursuit. In a few moments the news of' the j accident spread through the village and I people came hurrying to the bank, ges- i ticulating wildly and pointing to the j open water in the distance. Eugene and Stephen watched with i beating hearts the boat moving before ! them. Never had she appeared to fly so j fast. The sail of the Icicle was strained to bursting, and her mast shook and trembled before every new gust, as : though it would snap apart. At last, much to the boys' relief, they i found that they really did gain upon | the Ice Queen. Now they could plainly ; see the frightened look upon Madge's j face as' she crouched on a seat close to j the helm, both hands clutching the side of the ice-boat. "Put her about!" shouted Stephen to ! her. "Don't you see you arc making : I right for the water? You'll be j 1 drowned." I AI:ifl3* footsteps around me. After listening lor a moment, I felt sure that they were the footsteps of horses. They seemed to be circling around me - not at a canter nor at a trot, but at a moderate walk. It was well that I had secured my horse in a thorough manner, for I never saw him so excited, lie tugged and pulled at his lariat, stood up on his hind legs, neighed and snorted, pawed u?wl * i*'" UIU Jiiiuiccu, mill 1L n ilH I11M ilCllOHS l.lllll gave me n clue to the identity of my visitors. They were wild horses! Had they been Indian ponies, my j trained horse would have remained as dumb and silent as a post. Indeed, Indians would not have approached me in that manner. I remained verv quiet, hoping the horses would remain in sii>lit until daylight should jrive me a good view of them. I had to wait for a full hour; but. when the light grew strong, the spectacle was one to- make a man's blood tingle. The circle had been enlarged until it-was half a mile across, and my little camp was the center. Every horse, and there were 121) of them, stood with his head to this center, and soldiers could not have taken positions on the skirmish line in a more precise order. I pitied my own animal. Tie stood with the lariat drawn taut, and trembled in every limb, and he was as wet with sweat as if I had galloped him twenty miles. I realized how lie must long to break away and join the wild rovers, and forever end his drudgery. I dared not rise to my feet for fear of alarming the drove, but, nevertheless, I had a clear view of each horse. Most of them were magnificent animals. ? ? . iiiiiuiiii uunii wu LUV11 .NI1UUIULTS JUKI lilllS on the crass. They were of various colors, anil they ranged in asjc from the yearling colt to the veterans twenty years old. The hays predominated, but every color was present. "NYc had been observing each other about ten minutes, when a jet-black stal ion, who was the leader of the herd, gave a snort, threw up his heels into the air, and broke of! at a gallop, followed by the drove in single file. They ran in a true circle, and thev made the circuit five times before stopping. Then, at another signal from the leader, the circle broke and the horses wheeled into a long single line, or "company front." Troop horses could not have done better. I thought at first that the line mcaut to charge me. but at a signal it made a left wheel and galloped straight off on the plain for a mile. Then it broke, assumed the shape of a tri-angle, and returned. When the; leader was within pistol shot he wheeled about and the horses formed in a square, with the four yearlings in the center. They galloped off for a mile, broke again, and returned in two ranks. I had an almost irresistible desire to kill the leader with a bullet. Indeed, I reached for my rille with that intent, but then came the reflection that it would be little short of murder. Such . another perfect horse I had never seen. HSu 1.1..S.L. lit-- -!??- ' Alio uiawa i.uai MiUllC lit\L* blllv, 1118 111110S ana body were perfection, and lie liad the speed and bottom of a race horse. Not a halt was made for a full hour, and then it was only preparatory to taking a swift departure. The last manoeuvre was a circle at a slow trot, and each horse whinnied in a coaxing manner lo my own steed. PoorSelim! lie struggled in the most frantic manner to break loose, and when finding all his efforts of no avail, lie threw himself down on the grass and actually groaned his disappointment. 1 rose up then and waved my blanket, instead of rushing off in alTriuht, as T expected, the leader of the band deliberately approached me a few rods and stood and snorted and pawed as if sending forth a challenge. Then I set up a shoutincr. waved the blanket smr?i> mnw O' # "*v" and he took his place at the head, formed the band at "company front" and they went otT at a gallop, and maintained it as lcng as I could see the waving line.?Detroit Free Press. A liurrowiug Bird. A quiet picture is afforded by the hill 1 where the auks brood. They resemble ; the eider-duck in shape, except that 1 their bills are sharp and not flat like those of the latter. There arc three species of them, which are distinguished 1 from one another by the length of their 1 bill and its curvature. All three spe 1 cies live and brood in. the same places. ' I was told of ii mountain where a million of them had built their nests. I 1 am sure of one thing?that no man has 1 ever seen a million of birds, even though 1 he has travelled over half the earth. Doubting the accounts, I visited the 1 described mountain. On a bright sum- 1 mer day my companion and myself took 1 a boat and rowed toward it, over the ' smooth, transparent water, between beautiful islands, followed by the 1 screeching of the startled gulls. High * above us, on a towering ridge, we saw 1 the watchful ospreys; by oxir side, on right and left, along the shore-cliffs, the t sitting eider-duck. Finally we came to f the populous part of the mountain, which is from 320 to 830 feet high, and < saw really immense number^ of birds sitting on the ridges. The higher parts < of the cone were covered with a brown * Hiiuon-wors. ana as we approached the snore the birds drew back thither, nnd i suddenly disappeared from view as if by ' concerted agreement. When we had < readied the shore and landed, and were i wondering what had become of the hosts j of birds, wr " "Yes, Tom was a pretty baby?every body said so," and she glances acros: the room at a sunny-faced 4-year old "but Willie is not iike Tom. Willie' hair is light and his eyes," looking wist fully into the baby's face, "are dark an< so deep that, when I look in them I an almost afraid, they have such a fa away light, they seem to see somethinj we cannot." "Oh, nonsense! Don't think that He'll grow up to be a line fellow. Hut Kate, I wouldn't think so much abou him. He's a dear, good, little fellow but, I wouldn't worship him; it isn1 right." "As if I coidd help it." the root he says, reproachfully, pressing the sligh form closer and looking into the darl eyes yearningly. A month pusses nwav, and one da they stand beside a small, white casket within which the pretty baby is sleep inir. Ah, the mother's eyes were sharp iukI when friends said, "what bcaulifu bright eyes he has," she saw the far awa; look and knew it as the light that neve was on land or sea. "Oh, John, John!" she moaned, " knew he wasn't long for this world, could sec it in his eyes. Oh, my prctt; baby?" "Yes, dear, you were right," say papa, and there is a quiver in the firn voice; "if it had pleased God to liav left him with us we would have carc< t i.: i-i.. i i - i % mm nun ino uusi we coma; out wemus irive him up, for it is Ilis will, and 1L knows what is best for us." "Yes, I know it,'; and she stoops aiu cuts a tiny wisp of hair from the baby': head. "Oh, John. you said I wor shipped him. I did, oh. I did, and God'forgive me, I can't, be sorry for i now, it was such a dear, pretty baby.' Years pass on. Other babies are born They are all pretty babies, every on ho sees them say that, but none arc 1 ik< the baby with the far away look. As the; grow up they love to gather arounc mother's chair, and she never tires tell ing of the dark-eyed baby who went t< live with God. And when, with child ish curiosity they open the Bible to loo! at the pictures, they find between th< leaves a tiny wisp of hair tied with i white satin ribbon, they tough it revcr ontly and whisper beneath their breath "The pretty baby." Years still pass on. The childrei grow to be sturdy men and women, ant as the mother watches them she some times thinks, "If he had lived lie wouli have been such a beautiful man," an< then she smiles and is clad that ii Heaven ihcrc is no time, and no matte how the others may change he is stil the pretty baby. One day they gather around her bed and looking in each other's face mourn fully whisper: "She is dying." She stretches lier thin hand towart the table on which the old Bible rest and thev say: "The baby's hair." They place it in her hand. She kisse it tenderly and a bright light come into the dim old eyes, and they say: "What does she see ?*' She smiles and whispers: "The prett; baby." They place the wisp of hair 011 he breast and fold the wrinkled hand upon it, and tenderly lay her beside th pretty baby. Scotch Dinners. Til Scotland, after the slaughter o the viart (bullock) at Martinmas, a well to-do farmer used to give a "spare-ril fl innut o' yer denner, my man; free [taste] ho guse, and dab it weel wi' mistard." <4Mayersicauber and Glenlichan," laming two farmers by their farms, 'vfi maun tn.k' r Rnnnl lln?l a' j - . - i i ?o i ~ ";v ;huekie (fowl], or a wcng o' the jenkic duck), or a big seklice o' the bublicock (turkey|. Tak' a bit o' the mert bullock), launders Tamson; o'd man, t was felled by Jock, yer gude>rithcr." When the meat viands were removed, vhich was done by huddling them ogether in a large wicker basket, thi judewife took her seat opposite hei msband and served cheese and pudling. IIow mast times have I got to climb lp three flights of stairs to collect this }ill?" said a bill collector to Gilhooly. 'You can suit yourself about that. I'm lot going to move down in the cellar, or the accommodation of bill collectors." l ^ BANKRUPT ROADS OF LAST YEAR * , A DiNCoiirniffnK lleport of Itiillway Fore 3 clnaiirea nnil Kcceiversliiiia. s The Railway Age presents a discourag t. ing record of railway i'oreelosures aiu . receiverships for the year 1885. Referr ing to its tubulated statement the papa . says: 3 "It. will be seen that during the pas .Tfilir t.W('lltv.t?'n r-lilu-nva in tl><> s States, with 3,15(5 miles of nmin line, an< . with a bonded debt of $141,51/0,000, auc 1 a capital stock of $180,000,000, makinj a a total bonded debt and capitalization o r nearly $278,500,000, have been sold un it der foreclosure and transferred to nev ownership, the result being that th> capital stock is generally wiped out en ,t tirely and the bonded debt charged int? t the form of new securities, sometime f of less and sometimes of grcate t amount. "The totals of this table are sufficient r lv impressive in themselves, but the; t will be found still more so by comparing c them with the summary for prcviou je;?rs, which makes the assertion tha y during these ten years i>3S railways \ with a total length of 29.000 miles, or 2." . per cent, of the entire railway mileag. ,t of the country at the commencement o 1 1885, and with an aggregate capita y stock and bonded debt of $1,778,000,000 V or nearly 24 per Cent, of the total stocl and bonded indebtedness at the sam< X date, have gone through the disastrou, I experiences of default in interest, pass v iug into the hands of receivers, with thlong list of expenses and losses involvec s in this, and finally of forced sale wliict ii has wiped out the entire interest of man; 0 of the holders and compelled the other 1 to accept new securities and generally t advance more money in order to main e tain the existence of the property in th< future. 1 "A tabic of the receiverships durinj s 1885 shows that the forty-four railway . companies, having 8,880 miles of lines with a bonded debt of $198,482,900, anc t representing a capital stock amounting '? to $187,027,200, or an aggregate appar ent investment of nearly $888,500,001 *, have failed to meet their obligation ,, and have been taken possession ofb; ' the courts for the benefit of their credi j tors." 5 Spartan Discipline. i During the last century Spartan ideal ; of discipline prevailed in English anc ii American families. I)r. Johnson pro - tested against wishing babies in colc : water, which was practiced in his day the idea being that it would make then i rugged. The purpose to make cliildrci 1 robust dictated the method of governing - them. 1 An English boy. while playing abou: 1 some river craft, tumbled overboard. Hi. i face was badly cut by striking agains r something in his fall, and it. w:;s witl 1 great difficulty that lie was saved front drowning. , lie was put to bed. Two or thrci . days atterward his father said to him: "Well, Harry, how do you feci?" "Quite well, sir," answered tlie boy 1 "Nothing amiss?" t "Nothing, sir." "Then get up and take your flogging for giving us all this trouble." s And flogged he was. s Another English boy, being badlj treated at school, ran away, and pre scntcd himself at his father's house y many miles distant. He stated liii complaints against the school, and hii r father, listening until he had finished s said: e "Well, my lad, you must be tirec after your long walk; you had better g< to bed. for you must be up early to star for school sigain." "But mayn't I have some supper?' asked the tired and hungry boy. f "No, my lad," replied this Sparta* - father. "I pay your board at school * and you cannot have it here." 2 , Such stories as these two?they an * related in the "Reminisconces" of tin - Rev. T. Mosley, an English clenjymnr . ?may account for that reaction ii i family discipline which has no sym patliy with Spartan ideas. ? Youth'-. ) Companion. i j; Tlie llig Dakota Farmer. *. The Cincinnati Enquirer says:?I hac ^ a conversation yesterday with Mr Dwight, the manager of the grea | Dwight farm in Dakota. Ho has aixti ? thousand acres of land'to till, one o: the largest tracrs in Dakota or the coun ^ try. I asked him if the India whea? ' rrnnc nffoMnfl Unl-'Ato nr?/l n..?o m. : j m?wvv\4 j/utwMi uim u aa ouijiiisui; , at the prompt answer in the negative. He explained his reply by saying: "Th? ' wheat raised in Dakota is harder tliar any wheat grown in quantities anywhert on the face of the globe. It will alwayi i brinsr a hiirher orice than nnv nthm 1 wheat because it makes better flour. Ai long as some men are richer then othen i and will have the best of everything that money can buy, so long JJakott wheat will have the best of every market I attribute the quality of the grain t< , the coolness of the climate and the larg< quantity of alkali that it finds to absort ! ^in Dakota soil. The Indian wheat it soft and pulpy. It is not a good articlt of food. Right alongside of us, Montani ' and Washington Territories are unable t< produce such wheat as we do." A Brave Child. vw louring the temporary absence front ' his house of John Ounderson, an om' ploy?e of the Woodvillc Lumber Company, at Baldwin, Wis., his wife, aftei > putting her youngest child in bed, Icfi > two others, one about Jive and the othci four years of age, and went to the stab!< : to milk the cow. In some way unknown the children overturned t.hn inmn ploding it, and tlie clothes of the young est child were set on fire. It would have been burned to death had not th? i elder one carried it out doors and extin> guished the flames with snow. Th? ' mother was very badly burned trying t< rescue the baby, and "would have perished in the flames had not the neigh< bors prevented her making tho second attempt. The house with tho contcnti i was entirely consumed. the debri? the charred body of the child wai i found. Hydrophobia may bo prevented by apply In# 4 internally half nn ounce of lend to the dogl Yea*. |j