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SORAKICHI AND LEWIS. Sorara at the \Vrent I in* Match when tlm Wiaconaiu .Muii Tried to Jlreak the Leg. From tlio Chicago Times, Fob, 3G. Never before in the history of the Central Music Hall was that building so jammed with spucezed humanity as Inst night. The occasion was the wrestling match, at catch-as-catch-can, between Matsadn Sorakiclii, the Jap, aad Evan Lewis, the Wisconsin strangler, who some three weeks ago defeated his foreign antagonist. No less than :},JiOO people were present, but none of them were prepared for the inhuman, brutal, butcher-like exhibition to which they were treated. In the last match between the two wrestlers, Lewis almost choked ..,1 l, ?f ii.:_ vil*/ UU|# tu \IUUlilf U11VI UtX'UUdU U1 tlll? brutality another match, the one of last night, was arranged under the patronage of Parson Davies. The neck or strangle hold, was barred, but that was all. At about 0 o'clock the wrestlers made their appearance, both stripping well and looking the pink of condition. Lewis appeared strong and muscular, while the Jap seemed lithe, agile and shrewd?and too, for that matter, he is as strong a man as the Badgerite. II. * C. Palmer, the referee, after announcing the rules, called time, and the contestants sprang toward each other. A hold, a break, and a short lock characterized the work for the first five seconds, when the Jap rushed his man to the edge of the stage. A sccond more and Lewis had recovered and was clasped in the close embrace of the brown-skinned foreigner. For a brief period, they struggled, when the .Jap threw himself prone upon his stomach, a position often assumed when a wrestler is fatigued or desires to tire his opponent. In fact, it is a position of advantage, in a certain sense. Immediately Lewis saw his opponent in his lying position, he pounced upon him, and then began and finished the most brutal, inhuman exhibition ever seen i>y a Chicago gathering, not excepting a prize butchering contest. , Kneeling down over the prbstrate form of the Jap, the strangler deliberately planned the maiming of his an-iagpnist's limbs. Catching the Jap's left leij nt the nukle. hp pulled it toward him, and with ooth hands pressed it over his (Lewis's) left leg, between (thc knee and thigh. At first it was thought that the American intended to halfway turn his man, but soon his methods were understood. He intended and endeavored in a most cool, deliberate, and brutal manner to break Matsada Sorakichi's leg. That he did not do it is owing to the cries of "Shame!" "Coward!" "Brute!" "Devil!" which resounded throughout the hall when his intention was understood. The referee, somewhat dilatory, nnrnnrp fnu'or/l f V?n w*?nrf 1 nro r\ n t w|/? Ma a 0 vv/ <? Ut \4 V UV M 1 V/OlilV I O (V11V4 VIV." mandcd a cessation. Like a snake slowly gorging itself, Lewis released his hold on the foreigner's leg, and the latter with a groan rolled over on his hack. Lq\vis arose with a smile of triumph on his face, but when his eyes met those of the spectators, he looked at the padded floor and seemed ashamed of himself. The poor Jap endeavored to rise unassisted, but the all but broken limb refused to support him, and he pitched forward on his face. His seconds rushed to his assistance and dragrcd him to a chair, where he went off into a faint. Water was thrown in his face, and he opened his eyes and asked to be taken to his hotel. William Lakeman, the master of ceremonies, rushed to the edge of the stage and called loudly for a surgeon, and when two of them mounted the platform the injured man was carried below to his 'dressing room. An examination revealed the fnct that while the leg was not broken, it was strained and twisted so brutally that in effect it is much worse than a break. While all this was going on the stage the spectators were greatly excited over matters among themselves. A wellbuilt, handsome gentleman, welldressed and intelligent looking, suddenly rose up with face as white as snow, and remarking, "Eddie, I must go," stepped into the main aisle. He fell in a faint, and was carried to the ante-room. There on the floor and sofa were three men lying insensible, their friends throwing water in their faces and bavliing them. In the upper gallery a similar sccne was being enacted, some four or five men having toppled over at the brutal sight. Will Know Better Next Time. It was eight degrees below zero and the frost was nipping hot. A horse belonging to a city official was hitched to a post on the west side of the City Hall, and although he was covered with a buffalo robe and a blanket he humped himself together t? keep warm, and had & look of disgust on his face. Presentlv a bootblack came alnn?r. At some time in this boy's life he had touchcd his tongue to a lamp post on a cold morning. Seeing the liorse's nose within a foot of the iron post made him forget the cutting wind and the cold flag stones, lie was chewing away on a big hunk of molasses candy. He removed it from mouth and held it to the horse's nose. Out came the animal's tongue for a lick, and the boy then rubbed the hunk over the top of the post auu BKippea across tnc street into a doorway, lie was hardly in the place when thehorse slipped six iuches of his tongue out after more sweetness. It hit tho post and stuck there. For a minute lie thought there was some mistake, but then came the realizing sense that he had been played for a sucker and caught on a blunt hook. He set back and pu'.lcd, 'lurched forwaid, and squealed, and then lifted his heels and made splinters of everything within reach. Pedestrians ran to stop him, bul with a terrible wrench he loosened hit tongue, and set off at a gallop, slcwinc tiie cutter bottom up, and knocking il to pieces as he went down Fort street. The boy went up the street, saying tc himself: "If I was a horse, do you suppose anybody could get mo to lick molassef off an axe on a cold day?"?Detroit Fra Pre**- ' Advertising is a good deal like making lovi to a widow. It can't be overdone. v': > J . .. Got His Breakfast. CUHIOU8 8TOHY OK THE DAUNTLESS PEUSI8TENCY OK A KOX. A curious story of a fox's temerity and persistence in the persuit of prev is ref.. e \\r111: n." it jiui it'vt iiuii1 uiu Mil III U1 >V lillUIIl DUIUll'll, who lives on the liill back of Big Canon, on the line of the Lycoming Valley aiul Pine Creek Railroad. Like all the localities in Northeastern Pennsylvania that neighborhood lias suffered greatly I this Winter by the raids of foxes on the I poultry yards of farmers. Bunnell's j flock of chickens had, been redubed to I one hen, although traps of all sorts of devices had been tried to foil the raids of the foxes. A few days a?;o Bunnell went to a neighbor's to join him in a fox hunt which had been made up for that day, taking his dog with him. He hud been gone but a few minutes when a big fox came into the door yard, where the last member of Bunnell's flock of poultry was feeding, and chased her past Mrs. Bunnell who was boiling soap at j the back of the house, and into the j house through the open kitchen door. Mrs Bunnell ran after the fox, carrying a clothes pounder as- a weapon. The hen ran up stair's and into a bedroom, and hid under a bed. The fox followed, and when Mrs. Bunnell reached the top of the stairs the fox was coming out of the bedroom with the lien flung over his sho.ilder. Mrs. Bunnell struck at him with the clothes pounder, and the fox retreated into the bedroom and went under the bed. where he leisurely proceeded to make his breakfast olT the i hen. Mrs. Bunnell made him a prisoner by closing the door, and then ran to the neighbors, reaching there before her husband and the rest had started away nil fV?o lninf f nlrl +l-*r* t4/\mr s\ C 4l>n hen and the fox, and the hunters returned with Mrs. Bunnell to have some sport with Reynard. "When they arrived at Bunnells they found that the fox had jumped through a window pane in the room and escapcd. Big tufts of his fur were fast to the jagged edges of the | broken glass, and a trail of blood leading away from whore the fox had landed in the snow showed that, he had not got away with a whole skin. The trail was followed four miles. Then the fox took refuge in a crevice in some rocks. He was routed out, and the dogs soon killed him The Air-Tiglit Stove. The Lewiston (Me.) Journal says:?A Wilton veteran tells this story: "My health got- run down, I failed in trade, and L thought I would go to farming. 1 bought me a piece of land in Aroostook, built myself a cabiu, and set to work clearing it. This was forty years a?*o. It was in the fall. I didn't have time to build much of a house, so I just : clapped shingles over the cracks. It. j was rather cold for us?my wife and i me. We didn't sleep very comfortable ' nights. A friend told us to get an airtight stove, put a bi?x junk of wood in when we went to bed, and the coals would keep all night and warm the cauin. niGSC rounu, sheet-iron, airtight stoves had just comc into fashion then. I got me one and set her up. A ihort time before I turned in I put in a heavy junk of bccch wood that I had sawed right oif a log. We turned in early and began to talk over our prospects in our new life. 44 'What a grand thing that air-tight stove is for us, Mary Ellen,' says I. 44 'Yes,' says she, 'but ain't it getting a little too warm for comfort?' j 4'I told her I didn't know but it was, ! and so I turned down one quilt. Before j Ave got to sleep we had to turn down ; another quilt. It was a cold night, but 1 that new air-tight seemed to heat up tremendously. 4 4 4I never saw such a heater, Jerry,' said Mary Ellen. 44 'Neither did I,' says I. In the night I woke up and it was so warm that I turned down another quilt and left | nothing but a sheet over us. Well, in j the morning I got up and went to the i stove to stir up the coals and put on ! some more wood. Coals! Bless ye, there wasn't a spark in the stove! That big beech junk wasn't even charrcd. There hadn't been enough lire in that stove all night to tech off my pipe with. The beech log was too soggy to warm us up, but that new air-tight stove and our imagination did the business just as well." How to Reclaim Swamps. Col. John P. Fort, of South-Western Georgia, can fairly claim to be one of the benefactors of the raee. He lias discovered a method by which swampy and bog land can be drained at small expense. His very simple process will give to farmers tens of millions of acres j of land that were worse than useless, t for they were the scats of malarial disj orders. Col. Fort simply digs or drives 1 a hole into the earth at a point in his submerged lands that is deepest. lie goes to work in. the same way as oil wells or arte&ian wells are opened up. A descending drill always meets subterranean channels into which the water will flow if the holo is kept cleared. On one of his great swamp-farms may be seen two apertures in the earth. One sucking up the stagnant water of the swamp, the other spouting up sweet, clear water from a strata far below. On Col. Fort's farm these wells are only two hundred feet apart. Heretofore it has been sup{>oscd that the only way to drain swampy and was to build ditches and lay underground pipes to convey the water to a distance, and yot the cess pool might given a hint of how superfluous surface water might be removed. Farmers who own large quantities of swampy land would do well to try this experiment, and perhaps they will find that they not only can fr*t rid of malaria, but come [ into possession of wonderfully fertile [ farm lands far superior to ordinary soil, i -?Demo rest'* Month y. 1 Stuck Together.?Mr. Alma Hill, 1 of Bronwood, Ua.. has about 200 head ' of sheep on his place and a good manj cockle burs. One day he was in the field and saw fifteen ?hcep side by side, their heads all pointing the same way, 5 looking as if out for a drill* He yelled > at them to move, and the whole gang 5 moved at once. It \tas some time before he ascertained .that the burs had got into their wool and they were stuck together. A SLAVONIC ROMANCE. A Way tliey Have of Doin? tiling* ! ft| ItuHitin. 11 A young Ilussiau named Ludovick, living at St. Pctcrsourg, having repeat i?e edly failed to pass the examination necessary to enter the army, it was laughingly suggested by his friend Jabesky that he should assume Ludovick's name, go south, and pass the examination, and return to St. cj} Petersburg and hand the commission and .,r uniform over to him. What was pro- J.() posed as a joke was actually carried into serious reality, and in due course Ludo- wj vick received the following: "Allow me jlt, to congratulate you. I have passed the Gj examination, and am now a lieutenant te, in the infantry regiment. To-morrow I rj| shall apply for a transfer to St. Peters- cn burg." Ludovick treated himself to a aii, rniliul nf o-nvofv in K/mnr L-n/.n,w.o -- trt"J J on^v.o.-., .)r, but soon received the following to low- Sll, er his spirits: "I have bad news for you. ,ro' My application for a transfer has been refused, and I have been ordered to the ]10 front." W( There was nothing for him to do but wj await events. The next message raised cv| his spirits somewhat. "Allow me to congratulate you. I, or rather you, have been promoted for gallantry in the field, but we are wounded. I hope we shall Bto recover. P. S.?Our bravery has been ?8| rewarded with the Grand Cross of the (\jj Black Eagle Order." But the next was an effectual damper. "We are getting frj well of the wound I received at Plevna; 0f but it has been discovered that we are two thousand roubles short in our pay tin account while 1 was acting quartermaster. I, or rather we, shall be tried jn< in a few weeks. 1 am afraid we shall be jm' convicted unless you send me a thousand rubles with which to bribe the investi- thi gating committee." There was nothing for him*to do but to save his honor, even if it cost him his y0 lasjt shilling, and so he raised the money with very great difficulty and sent it to his friend, who did not write for a long time. At length he relieved the distress of Ludovick. "I bribed the investi- Co gating committee and have been honor- his ably acquitted. Your good name is safe. I've got some good news for you. Da We fell in love with a beautiful girl, and I have married her. You can have 4J( no idea how happy we arc. This was a ag. stagger. Ludovick had fallen in love nu with another fair one, and couldn't da break his promise. He experienced the fru torments of the wicked. IIis anxiety was unrcnevca until months afterwards, nui when he received the following: "We 1 shall soon be clapped in cach others arms, kn I am coming to St. Petersburg with our tot wife and chiid. I have done a great JVt deal for you. I have ruined my health and lost a good deal of time. Now it is your turn to serve me." A few days afterwards Ludovick was horrified to ^ see his friend drive up with his wife ,,n and child. "Hero-is your uniform, Lu 1 dovick, und also your wife*and child." ( The poor woman, igoornn( of the decep- 4,j tion, died of grief. The friends were tried and punished. ( *' his Philadelphia llalr Thieves. pi 1 tel Ever since the complaints have been made at Police Headquarters, Philadelphia of the mysterious dissapperance of the braids of hair from the heads of co: ladies and misses in the crowded streets g? and cars of the city, every officer has been on the alert to catch the sneaking ru' thief, if possible: but no clue could be Y? obtained. Several days ago Reserve Officer Dawson, while on duty at Eighth and Market streets, observed a man act- ~ iug in a suspicious manner in a crowd tir of shoppers, and saw him following two school-girls, both of whom had luxurhraids of sunny hair hanging down their 1 backs. lie followed them to Arch street, "ll when the man saw that he was being 8C( watched and made his way out of the wc crowd. Officer Dawson saw the same man fol- n? lowing a young lady who wore a heavy 1 braid of golden hair, when he slipped a } into a store and exchanged his uniform sct for a citizen's coat and hat. lie soon caught up to the man, who was close behind the young lady, just as he took hold of the coveted tresses and was about to sever them with a pair of sharp j.(>1 , shears which he carried in his pocket. ca] The fellow was arrested and taken to en the Central, where he gave the name of John N. Henderson, his age thirty-eight years. Henderson is known by the tj1( police as one of the numerous class who live by their wits, and ho has been arrested on several occasions foi disreputable acts, but no charges of a serious character were ever before lodged against him. An effort is being made to tei find where he disposed of the proceeds ca of his several robberies, as it is believed . that all the cherished tresses which have wi been severed from the fair heads during the past month have been sold to deal- I ^ ers. an Father and Son Trade Horses. Ti The Norway (Me.) Advertiser tells this little story: This is how an old gentle- <jr man proved to his son that he was not so old as his father. The father had bought a "door-yard horse," good-looking enough, but worthless as a roadster. ptl He wanted to get rid of him, and so one kr day he put a brad in the end of his tirliiix ?i?wl ofortnrl fnr Vkio onn^a A a Via nrui|i aim niai ivu iui uia ovu i\o jiu ^ drove into his son's door-yard he stuek yo the brad into the horse, knocked off his m hat with his own hand, came up to the ol] door flying and apparently out of jy; breath. The son stepped to the door. 1 "Father, what have you got there ?" he 1 nsked. "I have got the devil, and I ' wish somebody had him; ho has about ju pulled my arms out of the sockets. Ho di is worth $1,000 to any man if he can a ' drive him, but I have got to bo too old fu 1 to drive such a horse ns that." After yc 1 the old man had been rubbed with lini- th ment, and before he went off, h h son fe offered to swap a nice $500 horse for h< the puller and to give $100 boot. The T1 old man traded, nad some more lini- nc 1 ment rubbed on his shoulders, and th ' drove away. Three weeks later the > father visited his son again. Hie father said to his son: "How do you like your new horse, George ?" P* L "Father, how could you lie to me as "" ; you did t" "Did you know you were not so old as your father, George?4' "I s* L never want to be if I have got to lie as ?rou did. Don't you want some more iniment fn A . f / ? '. . j LC') '$/ \ * wk THE JOKERS' BUDGET. >I?S AM) KNOH tJATIIUltED FOR AN llOUIt'M A.UIIKEMENT. >1* nml I>n*liCH?A Sick Siorv? lie wiin too Thoughtful?lMiintutioii I'liiloMOpUy, lite., liU'm THE FASHIONS. Mrs. Col. Perry Yorker was regally id in black velvet. The dress was a i iiccsk, with round court (rain. The rsa?re was square, and she wore a ekiaee of diamonds and turquoises, tli a large pendant solitaire. At ad and shoulders were bunches /....il -? -i "? * umiiuii ii'iuuerH, snvereu, 1111(1 C1USs of diamonds fastened the bows of ?bon velvet on tlie shoulder. She L'ated much devastation uinong tlie wye* an tmevre and picklcs. having eviously hidden away under her eorifc five pot.its jhiUx a la Pttriaienttc. She t stalled on her third plate of saueriiut. Mrs. Verier didn't do justice to rself on this occasion. She; was not :ll. She suddenly rallied and toyed th the Charlotte Kusse, but it was ident she had lost her grip. mOII-PKICKD I.UXUIUK8. A gentleman on his way up town pped into a Broadway grocery and ced the price of a box of strawberries splayed in the window. "My wife is sick," he explained to a end who was with him, "and a few those berries would do her good." "Five dollars," was the grocer's dicrn. "Five dollars!" he exclaimed, pusliX them away, "it would be wicked to y that much for a few strawberries." "Sorry, sir," said the grocer, "allying else, sir ?" "What are Iteina Victorias worth ?" "Seventeen dollars, sir; shall 1 send u a box ?" "Yes, you may as well." IJKSKUVKI) TO LOSE. "Well, there's a green one," said lonel .T. W. Ilunn, looking up from i morning paper yesterday. "Who ? What ?" asked Major C. W. y, his room male. "Why a New York man called >hnny' has been betting $20,000 ainst a hat with some of the alder n of that city that they would not re to vote for the Broadway railway tnchisc." "Did he lose?" asked the-innocent ijor. "Of course he did. lie might have own he would. Serves him right, a, for giving such odds."?Chicago ten. A SICK STOIIY. I "Tell me a story," said the small boy. nping into his big sister's bed one of i late cold mornings. "Oh, I can't, 1 sick," she said. "Well, I'll tell you e," he ottered, genially. "I don't iiit to hear it," she answered sleepily; 'in sick I tell you." A smile of the >st engaging sort broke over the small y's face. He bolstered his check into i hand and his elbow into his sister's low and said: "I'm awful sorry. I'll 1 /ou a siek story."?Boston Uncord. THE OUTI.O(?K WAS CIOOD. Miss Joy?Madam, Mr. Foster has me to take me out for a drive; may I , Madam ? Madaiu?You know, Miss Joy, the les of Vassar do not allow it unless u are engaged. Arc you engaged to r. Foster ?" Miss Jo;r (doubtfully)?N No, but ?if you let me go, I shall be by the nc we get back.?Life. A CURIOUS PHENOMENON. Old Mrs. Bennington?The paper says it two whales, a cow and a calf, was n lloatin' oil Amagansett shores last iek. Did Mr. Bennington?Well, that's all flit, ain't it ? [)ld Mrs. Bennington?It's all right out the whales, of course, but I don't ; how the cow and calf irot out there. SO LITTLE. Miss A.?What, Carrie! going into A n aguin ? M iss B.?Yes; I bought a dress pat*n last week, and when my dressmaker me to cut it up, she found I had only ough for the skirt. So I am going to t an eighth of a yard for the .waist, iss Scissorsnip says it will be more an ample, but I'm bound to have ough. I . hate to scrimp, you know. Boston Trantcrij/t. KIUGIITKUL OllDEAL TO I*AS8. Charlie (striding up and down)?It's rrible?terrible. I owe money aud n't pay it. Jack?Why not let the other fellow ilk. C!lmrlin ? Charlie?Let the other fellow walk ? wish it was tome other fclJotor, but it :i't. It's an Irish washerwoman, and e'll be here in ten minutes.?iV. Y. lines. A STAIt. "I wish I were yon star," he said, eamily. "So do I," she returned promptly, roically swallowing a yawn. "And why, dear one ?" he asked imilsively, "why do you wish I were yon illiant orb ?" "Because," she replied in cold, matr-of-fact Bostonese tones, "because >ur brilliant orb is just 11,700,971 iles away." And ho faded silently it like a mist before a summer's sun.? eio Haven Neica. TOO THANKFUL. The squire of an English hamlet had st bestowed alms upon a village mencant. "May the Lord give your soul nl.i/ifi tn It AiiifAn P' /? v/>l n l Hi n/1 K n IIIULU 1U ugtlftM lUUgiail;" I begcrar. "Thank ye, Thomas, thank s," said the squire. Encouraged by lis appreciation, the h^g^ar went on rvently, "May Ho give it a place in ;aven?ay, this very night." "Hold! tiomas," said the alarmed squire; "you iedn't have been so particular to name ie date."?Baptist Weekly. DI8TRS88IKQ INTEL.MOKNCE. "Is .Tim Dullard hangin' 'round these irtfl nowadays ?" asked a passenger om a car window of a Dakota citizen. "Jim was hangin' 'round last week, ranger." t "End you see him f" 'KJh, yes. I had Hold ol the rope."? ; Y. Sun. PLANTATION PHILOSOPHY. De hours o' sin is fust; dc hours o1 hard wuck is slow. Chi I hi n tells lies nachully, hut yer has to Tarn 'cm how tcr tell de truf. I)e hardes' thing fur cr father tcr rccolleck is dat he wuz once er chile. Pussons wliut forgit slow ginerally knows mo' den pussons whut I'arns fast. Kr man whut likes cr song jes' 'ca'se it is hard tcr sing doan know e/. much er bout music cz he do er bout sci'nce. When cr big man gits cr back- j set it's wus on him den it woul' be on j any uder pusson. De rooster wid de | fines' comb looks dc wust when he gits frostbit. ?Arlaiisatc Tniccllcr. (JOOD NEWS KOIt UICNKDK'TH. "I sec Edison, the inventor, is going to be married." I "Is he ? Good! I'm glad of that." I "What interest have you in it ?" "Well, you see, I've been afraid he | would invent some confounded electric ! contrivance by which a woman could tell just how long Iter husband carried her letters in his pockets or some foolish thing of that sort. But, of course, if he's going to be married ?Chicago News. a socialistic twist. "I've chosen my three acres?next to the parsons. I mean to go and grow 'taters. Where *ave you chose yours ?" Harry?4IT ain't chose no land. I shan't grow no 'taters. I shall take your 'taters.? Graphic. dots and dasiigs. Tiiehk is one thing to be said in favor of coasters. They don't want the earth. "Am, men are born free and equal," but the dillieulty is that some are born equal to half a dozen others. It don't matter how much benevolcnce a man professes, unless he puts ashes on his sidewalk in icy weather. Tiikue is some appropriateness in speaking of a lady's bonnet as "just killing'' in these days. It- is chiefly made up of dead birds. It is some satisfaction to argue with the man who ows a crab mortirace on your homestead. lie is always ready to accept your premises. She knowB by the rin?j 'tis purely lie, 80 down to the door Htio bounds with Rlee; But her heart is Bad, and she hears with scoff, "Don't you want your ridew&lk 6hoveled off?" A correspondent wants to know if it is proper to urge a young lady to sing at an evening gathering after she has refused once. It is proper to urge a little, but not too much, lest she should change her mind. Little Mamie Fizzletop comes crying to her mother. "What's the matter, Mamie ?" "Johnny boxed my ears." "Why didn't you give it back to him V "I can't ma. I gave it back, to him already before he hit me." Puck would have raised numbers on front doors, so that -men who stay out late may have 110 dilliculty in finding their own houses. The idea is not new, but it is dangerous. Many a man has got into trouble by raised figures. "Fatiieu," asked little Johnny, "why is it that they always begin the legislalative sessions with prayer f" "I don't know, my son," replied the father, "unless it is to sort o' blind the eyes of the Lord as to what is done after the prayer is ended." A cIjEVEU Albany girl who was at Itidgcfield the other night was asked what her sensations were when she shot down the toboggan chute for the first time. "It was delightful," she exclaimed enthusiastically; 4,I thought I was dying." Maoistuatb: "What is the plea ot the prisoner at the bar, charged with being implicated in the Roberts' safe robbery?" Prisoner: 44I beg to state, your lienor, that I was not there, but simply as a tool for the others." Pris oner's Counsel: "I would explain to the Court that my client's name is Jiminv." Hancock's Love for the Army. A Washington correspondent savs:? 'Many very pretty incidents are told ot General Hancock. One of them is worth repeating. When he received the nomination for the presidency several of his | most devoted friends held a conference and decided that it would add enthu siasm to the campaign if General Hancock were to resign his office in the army and come before the nation solely as a candidate. One of their number, he urhn folio flio ofAru urnnf fa unn tVin ' general at Governor's Island. He found the soldier in his office and was w?irmly welcomed. But when the visitor broached the subject of his call Hancock said, thoughtfully and with an earnest- . ness that was pathetic: ! "No; I will not leave the army. My whole life has been given to it. I would be miserable were I to resign. As I live here in my quarters and hear 'reveille' and 'taps' I am perfectly happy- happier than I should be as a president of tho United States. No; say that I cannot leave the army. I'd like to be president, of course; I suppose any man would: but I will not take the risk of j sundering all the associations of my life for the sake of such a chance." Her Papa's Gun. Two stories that Gen. Hancock told mo I recall with distinctness still, says a newspaper correspondent. One was of an incident at Gcttyburg, just before his famous charge. Passing near the outskirts of his lines he came upon a child, only a half dozen years or so of age, and hardly yet old enough to speak plainly. Bhe somehow had strayed near to the union pickets, bringing an old rifle heavier than she could well carry without showing that she was overburdened. When she saw Gen. Hancock she held tho load in her arms a little higher and faifly ran into his arms, crying: "Mv papa's dead, but here's my papa's gun." , There was something like a tear in Gen. Hancock's ey? as ho recited this heroic little incident. "I never recall that brave chit of a child's offering to our cause," he said; 4'without feelings of deepest reverence. Her half-lisped wonls voiced a sentiment that vu tublime." i . *" * ' ; . . J. t " 1 \ AMYSTERY OF THE WARv ' YANKEE MOI.D1KHS SIlOOT ONE OK THEIR OWN COMPANIONS. l.rnviiiK IIIh Poni and CroNHing Over to flllt rAnf'f>il?M..(? * ? *? ?I ? ?? juuivn?rrvumir iiC?? ler-Wiin I If? it Sleep Walker ? During the many weeks that Early and Sheridan faced each other along the Oppequan I was a lngh private in a Confederate infantry regiment. About two weeks previous to the battle which drove us beyond Winchester my company was ordered to the front to do picket duty along a certain line. Sheridan was even then becoming aggressive, and his pickets were crowding us all along the front. I went on at ten o'clock at night, and my orders were very strict. It was a starlight night, and between me and the Yankee picket was open ground?a portion of an open field. A dog couldn't cross it without being discovered. 1 was not to give an alarm unless convinced that the enemy was preparing for some move, and I was not to tire my musket unless more than one person was seen advancing across the fie-ld. So sure as one musket was discharged the fire would run up and down both lines for a mile or so, ami the reliefs would be turned out and a hubbub be raised which could not be quieted for an hour. It was a very still niyht. Thewhipporwills were sinking along the < typequail, and from every bunch of grass ^ came the notes of katydids and crickets. At about eleven o'clock, while I sat for a moment on a fallen log, looking straight across the lield, a man suddenly stepped out of the rover of the woods on the far side and began advancing toward me. I caught the shine of the starlight on Ins musket at once, and immediately made up my mind that he was a federal picket. Indeed, who else could it he? lie was exactly opposite me, and lie advanced at a slow and measured pacc, with his musket at a "carry." On he .nne, straight at me, never turning L..; head nor hesitating for a moment', and in five minutes he came to a halt so near that I could have prodded him with the bayonet. I was just about to address him, demanding his surrender, when he placed his musketagainst a tree, folded his arms across his breast and leaned up against a beech and stared into the darkness over my head. For live long minutes lie stood there without making a movement, but I heard linn sigh as if there was great trouble in his mind. I was standing in my tnieks. too dumfounded for action, when the picket to ^ the left of me came creeping up on his hands and knees, anil as he rose up beside the log I sat down so we could consult. What on earth can ail that man?" I asked. "He is neither a scout nor a \ deserter." "Wait and watch him," whispered my companion. In a few minutes the federal took a ^ letter irom his breast pocket, removed it from the envelope and opened the sheet us if rending it. It was so dark that one could not have made out the letters on a circus bill, but he seemed to read every word of that letter. When he had finished it he placed the envelope m his pocket, but the letter fluttered, to the ground. He sighed heavily, made a sound as if sobbing, and by and by, with a groan of anguish which went straight to our hearts, he picked up his musket and walked slowly back across the open ground. "What do you think?" I asked, when we had finally lost sight of him. "He's a sleep walker," replied my friend. I had made up my mind that this was the case. The letter was secured to be perused by us when daylight came, and * we saw nothing more of the man in our watch. The epistle was from a far away village in Northern Ohio, and it read:? * * * "God pity us! Both children died yesterday! The hist words thev uttered were to ask for nana. It seems as if I could never stand up under this, and what must your feelings be!" There was more, but we would not read it. That letter, belonging to an enemy, was sacred in our eyes. I was there again at the same hour the next night, and half an hour before midnight the man started to the same spot. He had no musket with him this time, and his movements showed that lie was wide awake. He came crouching and hiding, ns if to escape observation, and was half way across the open when a stream of fire darted out from his own side, and the poor fellow sprang into the air with an awful scream andfell dead. He was coming for his letter, being guided by some undefined instinct toward the exact spot, and had probably been mistaken by some excited picket for a Confederate creeping >the other way. All next day the body, lay there in plain view, but at night his i friends removed it. and we heard after- ' ward from a prisoner that they discovered and lamented their error.?Detroit Free Press. A Hero in Rags. A California letter says:?"Wednesday evening, while the rain came down in torrents and the wind blew a miniature . | hurricane, a tramp, forlorn, footsore and penniless, was sloughing along the railroad track between Red Bluff and Cottonwood. Upon reaching Hooker Creek, where the road makes a bend, he discovered that the track had been: f washed away. The noith-bound pass- ,/ ^ entrer train was due in an hour. \f it n ?r n 4 wn rvi rv VtntTA i?am iUUMJ U tlllUljl ?,vum liil ? v I vllll/Ill L/vl C vA the kicks and blows received from railroad men while endeavoring to steal ? . ride, and left the train, loaded with human freight, to rush to destruction. , But this one did not. On tho contrary, , he sat by the track in llie furious storm and awaited the coining of the train, to- i. warn the engineer that there was danger ahead. .. .... ... Upon th^ approach of tb? train he jerked his coat from around him and waved it in the air. The signal ?m ., noticed, brakea were whistled *ed ; the train was stopped on the very vurge of destruction. ' - st Dr. Mart Walkbr wears one of thoee mall short overcoats. She call* it her petty coat. #