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TR-E.T IDIIN WINBO O Go.- .. MA 17 18' P'HE HIGHLAND TRTAN. Dear to each Highland'soldier's heart Ihe.'artan pfhis olan, Symbol of glory and of pride To every Highland man. Whether he dwell 'mid Athloe's hills, Or where the winding Tay, By Birnam'a glens and forests fair, To ocean. wends its way; Or nearer to the northern star, ., Where snows the mountains crown, And tow6ring oier silver lakes, Stern peaks of granite frown. In every country, far or near, Where Highland men are known, The Tartan .plaid is greeted still. With homage all his own. Still to the Pibroch's stirring strains On many a foreign shore, The lighlbhd'lans rqss nobly on. -to viotory, as of yore. True to traditions of the past, True to their ancient fame, May Caledonia's children add Fresh glories to her name. Kit's Mission. The Major arrived just before sup per,and when it Wa over the young folks as usiual took possession of him. Seated in his big arm chair, before the blazing fire, with is ruddy face, twinkling bile eyes, doldlerly whiskere and slight brogue, he was their very ideal of "a brave old Irish gentleman all of the olden time." "And so you've graduated,Tom,my'boy?' he said. "Yes," the young man replied, sullenly. "With all the honors, of, course?' "With no honors. I never was intended to make a mark in the world.' "rave you chose your profession?" asked the Major cheerily, pretending not to see the lad's discontented face. "No. It does not matter much what I do. Bome follows have money .to begin the world with, and some talent. Bob Fitch had an aptitude for medicine: his brother, for the law; while Joe, there is a born ma chinist. But I have no capital of any sort. I con't know why God sends useless people into the world." The Major made no reply. le saw that Toni was bitter under some college defeat. It was no time for serious reproof. Ile turned to the children, therefore, who were climbing his knees and bringing their stools closer,in preparation for a story. "An Irish story, please." "A duel, Major," said Jack. No, nol Lady Leigh's ghost," pleaded Mary. "Tut, tut I You know my stock too well. Let me see. Did I ever tell you of the man who lived in his coffin V "No Oh, go out" their eyes dilating. with the delight of a new horror. .. "It was in 1820," began the Majortoast ing his feet comfortably, that! was spnt on a visit to my uncle, a farmer, in County Cork. I was about your age, Jack, a hear ty eater,a good shot, and a great deal fon der of fun than of books. "My uncle's house was a -great, low, ram bling building, with plenty of windows, and big roaring fires; untidy and comfort able; lull and running over with childgen, dogs and servants. I was stunned at first with the scale on which the eating and fun and frolic went on. "My uncle was only a dairy farmer. In this country he would have felt it right to save every penny for his eleven children. But in Ireland, he felt it to be Is duty to keep his table filled with poor friends the year round. "They're unfortunate," my aunt replied, when I questioned. why they were there. "Isn't that reason. enough?" "In the kitchei it was just the same wa y. Besides the cooks, farm hands,laun.. dyand loom women (for the ladies wove their own linen then), th'ero was a legion of old, blind and deat retainers cluttering up the passages. "They're not beggars; they're all of use,' said my aunt, placidedly. They earni their bite and sup." "Oh Molly, now? Bhe cannot hear thuu der," I suggested. "Qh, sh6~ sits in the sun and looks after' the hensl" *%nd'lamne Davy?" '"He-he goes for, harm (y'east) twice a week," triunmphiatly.' "And the idiotsj k'tsy and.Barneyr?" " ychild. the~y're innocents! God have them in is keepig!!' "'My uncle's way of life was that of his iiemghbors. I suppose ilt -was ex'travagant and. foolish; and yet, .when i remember how the poor and helplesh were received and fed, as if sent by God, I wonder some times if there were not a better wisdom than economy In, It, 'There was olie young lad in the -house with whom I soon formned a friendship. His name was ble0k Ciancy, He -was a hard student, and was reading his 'human ities' in the village school, preparatory to entering Trinity College, Duiblin.. "Is Claney a kinsman of yours?" I ask ed my biicle. "o.' He is' What .is calkd a "poor, seholar." When a poor lad wishes to re ceive' an education, 'fie is taught without charge at any school, and goesifrom house thouse, staying at each as long as he chooses. A "poor scholar" is alwayg.wel come. We think God's blessing godi with hi m for the love of learning.' 'We were at oupper, .1 remember,-'when he said this.' It was a wilde stormy night. T~'lhe ground -was covered with ui'ow, and 4 the wind blewdliereely tronm.thA sea. ,In a ," ~ lull of the storm, w'a hea'd 'a knocking at~ - tqml' cried my qnclo. 'Who,cansi be a broad dni such a'nigh~t as this?' of'ieni the men unbarred thie door, 01ie ofthem stopped hastily back. 'It's)2Kit inithe coilln, sirn' 7Thqg Anow blew with a frightful gust 'lnto'tlie open lall, as, lour nmen enteredi, egiga bier', whidhi thefsot downl, ant} then hastily retrea'ted. 'On'\the bier rested S Waheeomed to be'an-Ap~ii cogin. "Eeoeleth das thrown ofr, and from Wt.~q thd cof~fn aipqu'sg head' rose tup. 'Gdbe M4,h all heel hid the hearty Gtod be with jou, Kitl' replied a dozen 4hae i'ed you 7t ou Sucj - a n p id n)? uncji But4J sai4 I'm~ue $ the squire's, and il not 'd sappoint him. Aid 1 had the salve for tho mistress, burn to bring, and the wash foi yeur tlrdat, Mo'ly. I kfiew yees couldn't do without me apuder day. 'Thrue f'or you, Kit,' came from half the people in the room. 'Take him to the fire,'said my uncle,who was cutting the beet slices of meat for his ,supper. 'Kit was, I found, a man who had been for twenty years paralyzed in ils legs. 1ie 1lyed in a narrow box likes cofin,arranged as a comfortable bed, and went from house to house, staying a week or month at each. as suited him.'. The po-rest houses in the country took their share of entertaining him. 'When my aunt whispered this explana to me, I looked at. the wretched creature, wl6)i one-half of his body dead, and won dereil how he could bear so much misery. 'Why doesn't lie make them throw him in the bog and make an end of it' I asked. 'I don't see how 4 man can endure to be a 'dead weight 6n others for so iijany years.' 'Wait and'fou'will see,' said Iny aunt. 'After supper I went out to the kitchen, from whence came loud shouts of laughter. Kit's coffin was placed near the fire, and a square box which he carried under- his .head was open pefore him. He was distributing, and at once, his jokes and cures-for birns, toothache,corns,inore serious diseases-pat terns of children's clothes, recipes for pud dings, every kind of useful scrap of infor mation, in a word, which could be carried in his head'or lils box. .'I stood listening to hlim, adid, boy as I was, noticed the remarkable tact and home ly Kindness which ho showed ulder all his fun. He turned is bright, shrewd eyes on me pr'esently. 'You see, young gentleman, I can't fol low a profession or trade, so I have to take lip the odds and ends which nobody else attends -to, to make myself useful.' 'My uncle told me that Kit had acquired much skill in the 6ure of' simple ailments. and that with his odds and ends he was in fact one of the most useful men in the coun try. 'Tie storm increased, and Kit remained all night.. lie was carried in front of the kitchen fire, the straw of his bed renewed, and warm coverlids spread over the cof fin. 'My own chamber was o; er the kitchen. There were cracks in the log fooring through which I could look down. and thiough which toa, ruddy flashes of firelight came up cheerfully. 'After the house was all quietPatsy, the 'innocent,' came into the kitchen,' and' throwing down a blanket on the warm hearth, near to Kit, curled up on It like a log. 'rhe neighborhood of the queer pair made me restless, I suppose for I could not sleep. I heard the clock in the hall strike mid night, and then one o'clock. Then a muf tied soand struck my ear, very different from the noise of the storin. it was the drawing back of the heavy b'ar from the buter door. 'Ptobably Dennis, the shepherd, is going out to look after his lambs,' I thoughtand turned over to sleep. But the next mom ent I rose uneasily, and crept to the. win. dOw. Through the gray storm' without I could see that the road and yard were filled with dark figures, stealthily surrounding the house. - I understood it all at a glance. -'The year had been one of great suffering -almost of famine-and bands of desper ate men had attacked several of the farm houses in that pait of the country, which they had plurtdered and then set on fire. These desperate men were still at large. It was asserted.that they were peasants, here tofore decent'and honest men. . Whoever they might be, it was certain that, as soon as caught, they would swIng for it. 'I shook with terror. I knew that ny uncle had a large sum of inoney in his chamberjust received for cattleand doubt less these men knew it too. I saw that there wad enough of them to overpower the men in the hiouse, even if they were awake and armed. 'My room was separated by a long corri dor from my uncle's. I groped for the door my teeth chattering with cold, when the firelight .fia'shing.' up below showed me a sight .whic,h'held me motionless. 'They worq ali-endy in the house. The kitchen was ftill of sturdy fellows, all armed ,thdir 'frieze coats covered with snow and their, faces swathedI with bhie~k dloih. 'The 'Jitch'en 'was separated from the hiotise by '-a long passagei : rh~y made no effort to-15eep quie., therefore, but began to drpg o~it the itovisions, talking loudly, 'and.intheir naturel volces. As yet thogy nad ndt seen Kit or Patsy. Trho Idiot lay soundl psidep'oli the warm hear th, but Kit hiad raised his head, and lis keen, pale face tuirnedi quickly fr'oini nie to aiinothier as they spoke. 'They'll murder himi' 1 thought; lint my lips were glued together with terror." Kit, helpless as a dead man, was cool and calm. '131 jabers,' said one, we'll hey some. ~thin' to ate before Wve go for theould man's imoneyl I didn't know how near starved I was afore, but the sight of this mnate makes me sick.' 'Yon're atfool, Pat Grady. . Tlhere's enough silver in his chest to kape us for a yearl Iowvly Moth'er, what's 'here? as another flahh of flirelight showed the cof fin.. 'I'm here. Mibhmael Crawford, said Kit' quietly. 'It's you, ms it, that kerries oii tills worki 'hlow dtire you call nie namiet' 'blustered the ruffian, changing his voIce. Im no Crqwford,' he added, wit'h a' terrible oath. 'I1 kndw you. Anid you,'lat grady. And ~you, Rlobert Flynn. Thg re'.s not one jf you 'I couldn't name, and bring to the gallows tQ morrow.' 'O'Grady spfang at him with a smothered yefl,,randising a knife. .'Kit's face turnedi ghastly pele, ' Life, I suppose, wats a's depr to the poor fragment of a man as ft Is to you oi'f me. But his eyes npverblenched. - 'Ye'dimrdh~er me, Patrick Grady? Met 'The knife shook In the murderer's hand 'I'd muilrdhmer any informeorgt said the man, sullenly. -'I'mn no informer. I'll never open my ups, boys, on this night's work, 'If it's thme last4 But, if you touch a~ hair of the. squire's heyl, or go into tltis ho'use an inch, PI'l hang every man of yeesi' 'lie raised hmis eto'rbse like head and shook his skinny'-hand at them. I've been In fiany a,baette, but I never' 'saw such cour age.- as t was shown' by 'thie 'erppio In his go ln. -Thq. idlot, Patsy, rouse' by themnolse scrambled to his knees, and 'The meon stoo paralyvzed. ''I'he super stition which'tdrilit them to protect these two helpless creatures was strong to held them motionless, even in the face of Kit's threats. 'Make an end of -it?' growled Crawford. 'Put a bullet in his skull.' Not a man mov9da. Kit. with a terrible effort, raised himself b1gher in his coffiln. 'Come, an' do it yerself, Michael Craw. fordi Kilh the cripple and the innocent, if ye dai'e. There's a mighticrone watching yel' pointing suddenly to the stormy sky, seen, through the open door. *The men stared at him, and at the driv ing storm, with vliible terror. Michael began to whine, after the faehlion of his class. 'Ye know, ye're safe, Kit; an' it's not an informer ye'd be, that shlep under our roof an' drunk wid us?' 'I'll never mintion yer names. if yees lot this be thelast uv it. Take that mate wid yees, an' two of the .flitches: I'll make it right wid the Squire. He never let i hun. gry man go from his dure.' 'Thrue for you. No more he did! 'Fore the Howley Mother, we'll go straight home. 'Tney left the house and took the gang wIth them. 'They'll roib the next liouse,' said Kit dropping back exhausted. 'But I did the best Icould.' 'He was right. By daylight came the news that they had attcked the house of a wealthy gentlenai near towi, who was prepared for them. There was a desperate tight; the ring leaders were arrested, tried and hanged, and the baud broken up. Then I told my uncle hew the poor cripple and innocent, whom he had taken in from char. ity, had protected him, as no arms could have done.' ..The Major's story brought forth many criticIams 'from the children. But Tom came up behind him and said quietly: '1 think I u -derstaid the moral of Kit's life, sir, and I will try and apply it.' The Other Doacon. There was a little personal difficulty the other day between two citizens, to which' a Brooklyn clergyman was the only eye witness. The principals were reticent about the affair, and the divine was solici ted to make a statement. "Your information is correct, sir. Yes, sir, your information is correct. I was standing on an adjacent curbstone, and I think I may safely say I saw it all. An unfortunate affair, sir, very." "What was it about ?" ''That, sir, I have not been able to as-. certain. . I have made a few inquirie,% but my investigations are without satisfactory results." - "What was said to start it I" "There were some remarks not at all indicative of humility of spirit, atid some lqnguage which you would dot expect me to remember." "Did one of them insult the other ?" "Different men put different construc tion upon words. 1 would not like to say that any affront was intended. I will say though. that the language was not scrip tural.% "Did the lie pass I Did either say the other lied I" "My impression as to that is not founded upon an accurate recollection of the iden tical language employed. I dislike to err and can scarcely give you a direct reply." "Were there any blows struck " - "It seems to me that there was smiting involved in the controversy." "Which one struck first ?" "I don't . think I am prepared to say who inaugurated the assault. It may have been one, and it may have been the other." ''Did the assaulted man strike back ?" . "He may have done so. I wIll take the responsibility of saying that, very likely, lie did. Men under the influence of car. nal anger are prone to smite when anit ten." ".Did they tall down." "I don't know whether they fell or wore thrown down. I saw them on the side walk together, locked ini close embrace and striving with prodigious strengtht" "Didn't you try to separate them ?" "I spoke to them and asked them to re-' frain fromi such an unseemly display of violence. Bunt they. heeded not. Their passions were strong upon them. I told them thaat I might have to invoke the con stabulary -if they did not desist." "What did, they say ? "They made a few reiharks about the cons.bulary that I did not dceni) germ "Were they punching each other all the time ?" "There Was much violence constantly exhibited and mnqch anger displayed.'' "Which whipped in the endt?". "I incline to the opinion that our -deacon biaa:the advantage of the opposing deacon. In feect, 1.might say that our, deacon chas tised the other deacon severely, thongh]I hear that he and the members of his church claim that our deacon was wvorsted. Not so, not so! I, am not well versed in such contests, but I should say fromi my observygtion tpat our deacon, providentially, perhAps, was. on top during the~ greater portion of time. In fact, to use the lan guage of our deacon in a moment of in. tense excitement and subsequent to the battle, he 'whaled the stufihig out of the other deacon.'" -. - Moer kausmn. It is impossible to read the accounts of the catastrophe at Bronker's sprult, wlth out being a ruck by the extreme deadliness of the tire oj~ened by the Boers upon the 94th ReglInent.' In a. very fe*. minutes before, we are told,j the English soldiers,, could get the range-most of the oflcers of the party wore-picked off and a large num, her of the solgilers were killed and wound ed. The abImd~ance of the big game in the Transvaal, , q,in fset, n~ade the Boers excellent shloto t 'the ridle.. As a rule, also, they are provided with modern weap ons; the -lotik and cunmbersome "Boers" with which they were equipped in the days of the "great trek," having long since been discarded and replaced by Westley Ritch ards or othqr rifles of precision, one of the ambitions of the B~oer being the'possession ,of a gun capable of kihlingat longer ranges thid the guns of hiis neighbors. rhe Bb~er also excels in shooting from horseback. G~allopiiat full snee. iaftet' 4 flying herd of dheer or wi d beasts, with a loose -rein hanging over the left wrlst,,the JBoer stops his well trained horse liy a niuddedi pressure of the knees and, rising in his stirruns, biring's liis'11 to lis' sh~ukdfer in a moinent, nid m'eldom misses his marlf. British trobips itutaybo safely asserted, haVe noy er liefore M unitefe#- men who cahm shoots as' the Bcar; 31i ith is 64nalif certain that as marksmen they are far an daway superior to English soliers. - Tbe c o at, 'Some one miust go for 'the doctor,' said Mrs. Bray. 'Ill go,' said Johnny. - 'Whatv' said Mrs. Brag, half smiling; 'three miles across the mountain-side, in all this deep snowl' 'I've often carried fath 's dinner to him when he was in the ni le-sugar camp,' said Johnny, 'and toat'4 a half a mile further than Dr. Dehton'4, It's something of a walk to be sure.' 'I should think so,' sail Mrs. Bray. 'But I think I-could go)quicsier than any one else,' said Johnny, asfhe looked piti. fully at the little babe in e cradle, whose dimpled face was all fil hed with fever "I love Willie, you kno and- ' And here a great lump emed to rise up in his throat and check hi words. Johnny :and Willie 4vere motherless children. Their father iarned his liveli hood by cutting pines inthe forest, haul. ing timber and dding jobs generally whenever he could get a chance. Their mother had died a few trionths before, atnd a kind neighbor had pffor d a home to the children for the sake of: the little errands and chores that Johnny ua do. Mrs. Bray was very d to them, and took the best possible car, of the baby, but there was many a night lhen Johnny lay awake softly crying to himself with his arms around -Willie's neck, and thinking of the deAr, dear mother he had lost.- And it was hi greatest ambition to obtain a good situation in the neighborhood; where -he could earn a li.tle money and help and support Willie. W'or I know that my' futher is very poor, said Johnny, 'and if I could oily assist him I know that mother would be pleasel up in heaven.' 'Well,' said Mrs. Bray, after a- little lisia'ion, '1 think you had better go.' So Johnny put on lus cap and tied his faded worsted comforte' about his neck. Anovercoat was an unknown luxury to him, but his coat was warm and snug, and he set off on a brisk walk, that wail almost a run, in thafrozen March sunshine, over the mountain side, that wias white and glittering with snow. F6r all the dazzling sunshiiie,a tremend ous gale was.blo.wingbudh a gale as might make marindre tremble *n the decks of great s4ips standing far out to. sea, & gale ithat shook the tops of trees aid made them groan and creak s if giants In pain were hidden within . their huge, mossy trunks. And now Johnny found his way through those trackless woods, where there was no path, except here and there the paw-marks of a stealing fox, or wild cat, or the velvety tracks of rabbits, nobody could guess I do not think that Johnny knew nim self. He keeps his eyes steadily on the sun, and now and then pauged to look foi rude signs cut in the bark of the bircn trees, which served as a sort' of guitle ,post to .After a long walk,qrsilng tWO or three frozen streams, and getting over a huge, rocky chasm by imeans of a - fallen tree trunk-which grouned dismally as Johnny picked his way across it, as if it had half a - mind to snap itself in two and let him down among the snowy rocks below-he reached the doctor's house, on the other side, and left his message. 'The doctor ifn't in,' -said .Miss Phobe, the doctor's sister; 'but - I'll tell him, the very minute he gets back. He can drive around by tLe road in his new cutter, and perhaps he'll be there before you are.' 'I hope so,' said Johnny, wistfnlly, "be cause our baby is sick.' ,You'd better stop and have a bit of din ner,' said Miss Phobe. 'it's most ready.' ' 'Oh, thank you I' said Johnnie, but I couldn't stay-[ must get back to Willie. I can quiet huna better than any one else when-he is ailing and fretful.' 'bo Miss lihobe gave him a drink of milk and a piece of hot gingerbread, and he started back home again. It' was getting on toward sinset now and Johnny wars anxious to get home.' 'I think perhaps it would be a shorter cut,' he thought, 'if I could get dow'n the railroad track and walk on that es far as .the Great Gray Rlock, and 'then cross the ice pond to thme old road.' lie scrambled down the steep andi frozen side of the bleak mountain, and soon came to the, single -railroad track, upona which a ptwuenger train ran at 8. in the mornn going south, and 5 in the afternoon going north. . There was a freight train also, but this had passed by long since. 'It must be iiear 5 now,' thought he. 'I shall hear the noise of the train as it conies; am d, be~sidcs, they always blew a whistle at the Great Gray lHock.'-. lie walkell along swiftly and steadily, his nose piirpin with cold. Buddenily he stopped. *It's verny strange that I don't see the Crow's Nest,' lie said aloud, as If lie were talking to the ybildw sunset in the west, The Crow's Nest was a long deserted nest of sticks, and straw, and reeds, in the decayed boughs of a lightning-blasted pmc tree, whicb, from its peculiar position, could be shen for some distance away by .any one approaching from the -northecrs side of the mountain. And just ther Johnny came around the curve of th< Woods and saw, to his *izement, that the old pine, decayed at the heart, and tossed about by the tempestuous March gale, had spit half way down and tallen,a huge splintered mass, acoss tne iron raulh of the track. And this was the reassn that .Johony had failed to see the familiar landmark of tue Crow's Nest. 'What shall I do?9' cried Johnny, aloud 'The train comes rushing.pround the bent at 5, adid all the passenAerA will be kllet.| Oh, if I had a redI lantern to signal, 'Dan gcr nhea'd l' lie stop~pedl a minute, trembling like leaf, to think what he had better do; ant then, starting to run at full speed, lie rush ed headlong dtown the track, waving hli scarlet- comforter over his heAd.. At the top of the snowy hill by the greal rock, he knew thaet he could bee seen for long distance,'and, by dint of great exer tions, lie contrived to reach this vantage ground before the shrIll whistle of the ad vancing train was hear'd." It was on a down grade here, which in creased the beril of the situation;and John ny stoosi there, the scarlet comforter flut *termg above his head, as If it wero a littj. 'stittue, cet in ebony, sharply outline< agsiast the bright western sky, where the sun was hanging, 'a great globe of gob above the black cloida.. 'Now if the enginee nl sees me I thought.Johnny his little. heart . beating like a trip-hammer as he could hear, above the rush of the wind and the creaking of the tree boughs, the hoarse. whistle. of the train as it rushed onward through thq deep gorge beyond. And the engineer did see. him. Small as was Johnny, and insig4iflcant as was Is ensign of danger, the snow-created hill and the orange sunset made so strong a background for him that they instantly perceived that something was wrong and whistled the signal for "down brakes." And the lives of the paseqngers we-e saved, and all through the courage and presence of mind of a boy twelve years old. . Children, this is a true story. It is a t'iing th'it re illy ha p ned. And you will be glad to hear that one of the .officeus of the railroad company had Johnny appointed to a go )d place at the nearest station, where it was his duty to signal every approach. Ing train with a flag. 'For,' said the gentleman, 'I feel sure I can trust such a lad as that.' And little Willie got well. and Johnny dates all his good luck from that wilk down the mountain side, when the March winds were raging in the fore.1ts, and the Crow's Nest crashed furiously across thq iron lines of the railroad track. Onrionis Custom. An English gentleman,who has traveled in Palestine, recently gave a description of the curiQue scenes that are enacted- in the Church of the Holy Sepulcher. lie said when you first enter the church you would be surprised to see a party of soldiers with their swords by their sidea, an:l their gens stacked within reach. It seemed a sacrilege in such a holy place and struck one rather unpleasantly; but he soon found out the necessity of it. According to the laws of the country, every sect is allowed to wor ship there, and as it is considered equally sacred by both Christians and Mohamme dans, all wishi a time for their mode of worship. The law allows them an hour each. -They commence at six in the morn ing. At that hour, those who have the first privilege enter, iringing with them what ever is necessary to conduct their particu lar religious rites. They go through their chants, and all is very quiet to about' a quarter to seven, when those who have the privilege of the next hour begin-to arrive. At first all is decorum, but presently the new comers begin to hiss and mock. As their numbers increase, and they become stronger they push and crowd, and as the time lessens they get more and more b ld. A few minutes. before seven they proceed to more forcible demonstration. They think if they clear out these blaspheiers a few minutes before the time they have done so much good work, while the wor shipers on the other hand think if they can 'keep possession a few njinutes after the 'time they have done an.equally good work. As home of these sects -use torches, Vai candles, staves, or crooks.in their worship', t iey proceed-to iso-th6m as wauu' of olfense or defense, and a free fight.ensucs.. Thei come in the soldiers, who separate the combatants by filing in bet ween them, turning out those whose hour is up, and leaving the place in tne possession. of the list comeis. If blood is shed,the church is closed for the day. Buch scenes are occur - Ing all day long, and the -presence of sol diers is absolutely -ne:.essary. A KI..d-Ilearzed Bragnd.' A brigand in.Thessaly has lately distin guish'd himself by an act 9f unusual kind ness and good-feeling. A short time ago several school children. were carried off from Zagocah by a band of brigands under the leadership of an eminent rulfian by name of Balachos. Five of these children' were subsequently restored to their parents on payment of a heavy ransom in each case. I'hree of the captives, for whose re lease a larger ransom was denmanded, were retqined. One of the three was the son of a Mr. Cassavetti, a little boy-in whose fate general interest was excited, .and who has rogained his liberty in an unexpeeted man nor. A. Wallack, belonging to the baud which had captured the boy, took a fancy to him andl determined to effect his rescue, aiid being left with two others of the band to guard the cld,hle found an oppgrtunity for carrying out, his benevolent intention. Qoe of the brigands went to get some bread and another fell asliep. The Wallack, taking advantage of this favrorable md'ment broke the needle of the gun of the bandit and called to the child to come with him. TIho little captive, iiot unnaturally misun derstanding the sunimols, began to cry. This awoke the briuiai who was asleep; but his gun -was useless and he. snapped the trigger in vain. In the nieantimie the Wallack imnaged to es-ape with the boy to Rissomola, wil/ 'ce he was taken home by some friends i. .d an escort, of soldiers. Of course Balachos Is direadfully annoyed at the affair, and 11, hie gets hold of.the Wallack intends to make an exaimple of U~nder a Fear. TIhe recent rain in (Georgia swelled all the streams to overflowig. Among others the Coosa river passed its banks andi sub merged the country through which it rimns. 'rho Ogosa flood was sudden, and its ro ccssioul was so rapid as to tear up and dis arraiige the land in many places. TIhe farm of Frank Perry was.deeply overflowed, and when the waters subsided, they do so with a rush which literally peeled off .the farm all the top soil to a* greater depth than It had ever before beeni penetrated by plow or spade. In fact, the rushing waters rolled the top land off as if it were a cover iet.enveloping the phenomena whose tlime for daylight had come.- After the depart nrc ot the waters, the greater part of the farm was found to be an umncoveredl battle -field and burying groungi. Part of the teri Itory consisted of mounds, evidently fortilications. These were strewh with imuple'munts- of aboriginu.i warfare, beads and earthen vessels. . Trho remainder of 'Ihe groundi was covered thicaly with skeletons, all perfectly exposed, all iii good preserva tion andi all lying in regular rows. The place is attracting orows fi-om all directinos and it Is almost impossitile to prevent van . dalisim from seriously impairing .what will undoubtedly prove to stuence, one of the richest "ffnds" ever griado on the 4merican, coitmnent. Among the opuhtless number of Inian yl~es found1 is die of grQat size and exceedinughy fi workmnanship,i the lhowl of whica is carved 'ihth* great skil, into the form of a human bead, The Railroad 'Telltale. Au ingenious machine, called the' Uell lalp,' has been introduced recefitl. on,the iKrle Railroad. It registets tlie speed of tralns, when and whera' they.stop, htd Low-long. It Is used especially for freight trains, and is fastencd .at either end of stuall cabooses or at the side of large ca booses about four and a blif feetJroin.the floor. It was -ladoted' because freight trams frequently exceeded the prescribed rate of speed. They wouldgun very fast for some distance, and-then takp things nomfortably'foi a titne. . The nuachine works a folloWe: A'screw is wound .round one of the journals oi- axles of the 3fbbose.- 'A rod,' ivhich' is turned by the screw as soon as the tram is in motion, runs lorizontally tQ the cn or Adp' of ,the ca Joose to point .udei'r the registering na. "line. 'I'o this rod a dogwheel Is attached working in another cogwiheqiwijch turns rod running peroudle'iirly, aid ending iu still another cogwhdI ' which turns a %ylinder about four inches long and quo nch in diameter. The.number of Qogs in 3ach wheel varies,.so thit When the traifn ins traveled a tuile the cylip ler'h is rovolv, d' >nly about oie quarteitof afi mcli. 'A strip >f paper twenty-two 'ibehes I'ong an'd four nches in breadth passes over .thecynder tud hangs into a - wooden boxunder the .ylinder. This paper is. celled the con luctor's service report. Lengthwise it ls livided by dotted lines intb 'eighty-eight parts. Eaeh of- -theA6 p.trtp, which repr-' iouts a mile, -I subdivkied.by green lines. bach of these parts represents a minute.a By ulcans of clockwork q pencil mQves I oross the paper and back again. As soon is the journal or axle tu'nt, the cylinder ,urns at the rate of atiuarter' inch to the nile, so that when a ile', is traversed the p)cntl has marked a line over the space'be ,ween the dotted lines which rpprcscqt a nile on the strip ol .paper. As the clock work moves the 'pencil across the"4trip,the pencil has also phssed over as nainy minute Aivisions as it has taken the car minutsA o run-a mile. If the train stops the cylla ler stops. The line made by .the pencil in ie direction of the length of time paper is iraken t s it ng as tWe train stops, aid tihe imd of the interruption in ttavel is repre iented by the n.amber of spaces the - pecl' noves icross,tho strip before it resumes ,he lengtilwisc line. In order to ascertain the point where an rrcgularity occrred, the statiqns on the road are printed on or betweei the dot ted ines at.points corresponding tp icir its auees from Jersey City. Bergen Is two niles and a half from.Jerseg City. Jersey aity is 1 rinted at the begminlug *of tho. itrip, and Bergen is printed two and a half ipaces further on the length, of the strip. When. the train stops the cyliqder'stopd, mud the pencil . line lengthwise is broken between tile printed names . Jeoicy City t'd Bergen.. 'The cyliuder clockwork are inclosed in Xn'iron i6ox, ' hich is .16ckced. Wheiia train reaches i 'destination the lip is ro'ulved'nd inspected. Stenography Is on the eve of being super ieded by the inver~tlo of 'the 'planotachy fraph. Its history is little known and is very curious. , We may first 'renptrk that uodern jiatious are mnuch behindhanti in the practico of stenography. ' bavid, in ract, says In one of his Psalms, Mingua maz caaaiM scribxr velociter keribentis ( 'y tongue is the pen of a ready writer.?') rho IIebrows, therefore, knew the art 9t w~riting as rapildy a one coUld speak. Ilki It was at Atl.8 a and Rome edpecially that steography was' p'afctsed. 'Xenophon amployed an abbreviated alplhabet to, write the specebes of 1Oerates, .whose 'works lie adited. This Was 1(I4 years before Jesus18 Christ. *",r Itoman4s, who,with the spoils :f Grcece, carrioi the arts and usages of the (recks mnte Italy, brdughmt baCk that king~ of writing and vqlgarized,10i among aill classes of the' population. Un'der the Uoisulate of Vice o may be sieei thie first traces of stenogram ly. yThe grea~it orator was himself .' very expert in th asi-t, aid took a pleasure in teaching it, to a .fmee slave named Tiron, who wrote dlown 'his, pleadings. Tri'on, acqumired'a celebhrity in the practice, 'and gav'e his, namne- to the~ method lie employed, his reports being calledl Trironian Nfotcs. Sogn teleraphie~ signs were aldne used in wrmting in Rome. Senecas, Brutus, Juli is Cwesar, ansi mnany other Ilustrious meon employgdi -i. One (lay Clecore 4rotc .from habit; in-'Tirdelian signs to hid frieiid Atticus,' who cpoid not undei'stand the letter. TIhb gieht, orator then offered to teach him steniographly,anid lie learned it in a very shmort time. Augus4tur gave lessons in stenography to his gi'and sons5. TIhe - old steiiographmic mejthod was' preserved in France until thei elevenmth ceni. L'iry', and letters from Louis le Debonnaire, sun of Charlemagne, in TIironian characters still exist. .In 1747' a iBenedhictline natned' Pierr'c Carpentier, reformed -the . TIironiani alphabet aiid published in Latin a volumue on his new methiod.. At present, isono graphy, wvhich is only practised by ai Isiw writers, had beenmiteifled and ilpi-oved; bpit it does'not appea-''to be -'shorter or miore sImple than tiiat usetd in 'aintiqitty. NIaved by a water ilumtb'it. . The water buffalo Is an animal nmuch ina ilse in tSingapore for. purpose of dIraught. It Is a dull, heavy-loglunganimat, slowv at work and disguting in appearance, but re markab~le for sagacity andi attachnwent to Its'nimtive keepers. It has, however, a par ticular antipathy to a Eumropean, and~ wvili immediately detect pim iin a cr'owde ,1ts dislike to and courage ini attacking a (iger is we4 known all pver India. Not long ago, ams a Malayan boy, 'who was eipiod by his parents in ierding 1ater b(4lfaloes, was drivIig his .acharge; by? thO' borders of'f the jungle a Uger nmado. iA suddoi p ring and seized the hisd by the thigh. ain was diragging hinm off, when'tiheo'two Qld bimffa-d lees, hearing the shriek of distrhss fronm thme well knowut Voice of their 'little attend ant, turned around and clmmged with ,their unual' rapidity .The tiger, thus cloacly pressed, was obhmged t~o drop hii'prey '(o dpa fend himself. WhileA olio bulfalo succede fuhllr droib away the tiger thme'other kept guard over the -boy., Later in theuevelig, when the anxioua , fathei almrnmed, caispe omit wi$h attedatLs tq seqk ,4ms child lhe found thtat .h wJgole hierd with the exce, tios Qf thme two old billfaltoes -bitl dhsperstd theinshlves tb feed, 'but thhtusey-worg still' thteke-:-one'standing ovei thmibleeding body of their little- fridewhile .the otbu ks.ph4 *~tchdhthe edge of the junledfor time re Pin thy faithb .o no 'r10 .'A Alt6v.o; h at thou no't two eyes ot -timne own?9 FOOD. FOA T IOUQH'T. Experienee is a fine word for suff 3rig. .late mikes us #ehement paitisans, but love more so. Too 'reat econondi Iii youth lbads to svaride In old age. It Is best not to dispute Wheve there is no p,ossibillity of,. convinocing, kaperience iap a very poor memory and true charity none at all... Doing riothilIg Is thq rmos -p 'vish toll eer 1h1noised on'any one 'T11 char11s whieh a Mhan dispenses after hiscleatl look'suspcllotIg. Adversity links-men.togetlhej;' while prospglrty Is "Dt to sqafter toemI H appinloss conslags in being liappy bhere is no patrti'ulai rule forgit. About all that bilnulnig. esuqo for a man is to inak'e him rd Icrdu hatsf. Gratitude ib-a debt' whijdhj men owe and -whieh few pay chetiily. If the Jord lead you in a rough way t is.to keopyou humble before him. Jezus lived for vou, a'id requires In retuirn that you siionit live for lim. uinok is he dream of aalhipleton; a wise man makes his own good fort pI~e, Soine men seem to haye t% 'save for :he woes of others,,hut none fo; their Trro nldg4te'nee-is the fo ye6r of com letely improssing oth d'rg' '*teh our deas. ' It is in any 'One"; powet to he Rie cssfil, if a man or woman In -At for wVork.woaiflfo Wh?%n a 1hpal has no .'esign lint to tneak'plain truthi, he' *1't apt to be talkative. -Gabortau said : "The filetlitV of a women is always in Oropnrt6ii to her ' L71Il ies.' I . K owlhil1o witho t iLus'.ce boco'nes irart; eotirage witlunt. roason beoones r ishness. All 'netdes were onceo enqviet(6, nn,l mly changed booause they were ob liged to, The exprossion "6hey say "has black neld 1not::h characters to make an irmy of saints. No 1ndulcgnce of 'jsaion destrov tho spiritnal nature so much as respe'c abI selfish ness. Passionate men are like men who stnnid on their heaids; they see all thi'gs the wrong way.. It may seem para(i0xical, but the best wiy to float a loan is with a heavy sinking Itidid attached. People'do not need to know more aboat virtue, but- rather 'to .practice that they already know,.. Ia is fjr more easy to pqu Oe a for tuie lke a knavd thari tpnexpend it like a gentlemnan. No mnan-''ver ob'tn ninence W ut ow iFtoth6 IWiuvhce of qon6 ood -wolnata, - Imposiblitles aro scarce. Mankind has not seen more titai ialf, a dozen of them si'ice the Cteation", 'Th hbiit d to constant'intercourse w ith.sp rits'abov ou, instenal."f rals In you, keeps yot down. JndEe thyself wIth;i .a pndgement of ipiefrity,-and thou wilt jidge .others wlth i a.ljd vanent of charity. ft isa grtit nisorfatnei n'o to have Ltnough wit to speak vell, orenotJldg ment to keop-silent. Thhre.ts a fointain of bl d to cleasie o r 41oul, and a fountain of supply to I yotr Rouls. j - I - Adversity do6 -notftake trbim us true friends; is only dispels those who pretqznded to be such.. TQuderuless and Its oultcome ;pit~y, ire ak iiQp)aral1e fr'omi truie mainlines.'s is true wvomanhindss. A 8 long uis hoarts blat, as 1 g a if 5xists, in whateyet. age, froh or rgold an, y'ou wvill fInd loye. It ts-not only, arrogant,'butt is prof ligate. for a. mn~n to disregard the world's oplaulon of~ himns elf. The first ing ie'ntoonv4r utlon is of truth, the next frood'sduis6,"- th( third, IrOnd' humor,- and. the fou'rth wit. .Ejinvy is ai paspaloti so fill of~cowar. lice aiAd, shamn that n~oody ever lhad the'con fidenice tbowiI itsposa eton. Thie time fotr retudonin'g isljf're we liave approsched ' near 'enoif 'to tho forbidden fruit to look ataud admire. A fair cbrmpensaton'" for honest aer vlco 1stiO boat presentyqus can make an, and thi bogt gift he ogan re If w& grieve thai Syirit Qt~id by Our' l igh tness. worldi lnes,or' 'rauhmptiora we do but ii'J nir ownl cup Wiib'wormu wopd.aand gall. ., ,JHe who 18 false to.tlil ;fysent diuty lUreaks a thread lI ; the loonfrigd will see the eltect's whon the W~aiv ing of a lifetime is nnravedi Wealth Int this w'ori l 189e8690mugh baggage to lie .Arken oaro ote but a outi Livauted braina is easy .to carry aind is a never-falling source of profit and plea sure. T1hose who are inteNded to (10 any eminent servIce for IGod are always em ptied &; sel f, atte ,led t9 gge the!r unfitness for their pinferE idng; thten they tt'ust siltplyo dod 0 f em anid power, and Hie gets all-the glor '. Our lives are spent in' either doing nothiing at all, op In doIng nqth:ng to then purpose, or in do.inug not~bing that we oughit to dot We arei always on. plainingouar days are feW, andi acting as time igh there Would be no, end of Aihe Jplst map~ is not the more rigid'y eqatitale man; but the, mani who, un der the Infihence of the prin~lples or trnte religion, bnltes beneyoenceo with kegheOgness:And Aektcin actkpf kind .nes as well a, of gquiLy, toaft1lfil the royal iaw. If cheerfu)AosA and am ity are Mfot ditativAted ilb h~Aie,%.tidifoss and IihpatIend6 tv41 raoonnebb.. feflbwed by~ Ansolenco;ey ta, weena ewiteen Wdper and is'al'nost dcitain to! Ghnned. The one wvho ooethes Aheiissful by 1'8 dwnl eoffV le4Qubdtou a miser .o1 iap tia g fl~i qof gnin ei . 4 to de is never Io.t