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J. W. ANDERSON, Editor and Proprietor
WHERE ARE WICKED FOLKS II URIEL
‘ Tell me, gray-headed sexton,” I said,
“Where in this field are the wicked folks laid ?
I have wandered the quiet old graveyard
through,
And studied the epitaphs, old and new;
But on monument, obe isk, pillar, or stone
I read of no evil that men have done.”
The old sexfon stood by a grave newly made,
With his chin on his hand, his hand on s
spade;
I knew by ihe gleam of his eloquent eye
That his heart was instructing his lips to
reply.
“Who is to judge when the soul takes its
flight?
Who is to judge ’twixt the wrong and the
right ?
Which of us mortals shall dare to say
That our neighbor was wicked who died to¬
day?
“Xu our journey through life, the further we
speed,
The better we learn that humanity’s need
Is charity's spirit, that prompts us to find
Ill 1 her virtue than vice in the lives of our
kind.
“Therefore, good deeds wo record on these
stoni s;
The evil men do, let it die with their bones.
I have labored as s xt m this many a year,
lint I never have buried a bad man here.”
—Truth Seeker.
THAT DAY IN HIS BOAT.
It was a wild night. The wind blew,
the rain drove, the waves roared in the
near distance.
It had been a fateful day to me.
Grandfather Delmar, with whom I had
lived ever since I could remember, had
been carried to his final home that after¬
noon, and now 1 was the last representa¬
tive of our name. The wide acres of the
Delmar plantation, originally one of the
largest estates on the eastern shore of
Maryland, had come down to me as sole
heiress. To me also had descended the
Delmar diamonds, which had blazed ou
the persons of the Delmar ladies. I say
descended, but I am bardly correct, for
these broad lands and these priceless
jewels were mine only under the will of
my grandfather, and that will contained
a proviso which I had just learned for
the first time. I was to marry Randolph
Heath, the ward and adopted son of my
grandfather, or else the entire property
was to go to this self same Randolph.
The will had just been read. The fu
■
the great drawing-room below, the
walls of which were hung with portraits
of my Delmar ancestors, handsome men
and lovely, golden-haired women.
“Charlotte,” said my aunt, when the
reading of the will was ended—“Char¬
lotte, my dear, you must invite oui
friends for the night. You are mistress
now.”
“I shall never be mistress of Delmar
Hall, Aunt Mordaunt,” I said, firmly.
She clutched my arm, her eyes wide
with wonder.
“And why not, pray ?”
“Because of the proviso. I will
never wed Randolph Heath.”
Her face whitened to the hue ot
death. She was a lone widow, and I
was her idol; and she coveted all those
jewels aud rich acres for my heritage,
For a moment we stood breathless.
“But Randolph Heath’s in Australia,’
suggested a friend, “and you are mis¬
tress at least until he returns.”
Poor aunty caught at this last hope
with a gasp of relief.
“So you are, my dear,” she put iu;
'‘we’ll leave all these disagreeable things
to be settled in the future. To-night,
friends, we will shut the doors against
the storms aud bo comfortable.”
She swept off toward the glowing
parlor, followed by her guests, while I
fled away to my own chamber.
The afternoon, as 1 have said, had
turned into rain aud the waves thundered
ou the shores (f the bay close by with
a hoarse cry, like a human heart iu
pniD. I paced my room restlessly. 1
could not marry this Randolph Heath,
whose face I had not looked upon since
the days of my early childhood. I could
not do it, for another face arose before
me, in the face of the man I loved, A
poor man, landless and unknown, yet
who had grown so dear to me iu the few
brief months of our summer acquaint¬
ance that to give him up were worse
than death. Yet I was a Delmar, and
it was a sore trial to lose my heritage—
to lose the Delmar jewels. All the Del¬
mar women before me had worn these
matchless old diamonds; and must I,
alone of them, bo disinherited and
dowerless ?
“Yes, cheerfully,” I said; “sinoe to
keep (hem I must give up the ohoice ot
Bit heart. Dear, dear summer days !'
l or it had been during a visit to a
school fntnd r, l.o lived iu one of the
loveliest c r ...es of Pennsylvania, that
I had met, the preceding June, Heibert
Stanley. For the first time in my life I
had found in him a perfectly congenial
soul. We liked the same poetry, pre¬
ferred the same music, admired the
same scenery. Ah ! what delicious days
those were. We rode, we walked, we
failed, we read together. Our acquaint¬
ance soon passed into intimacy, and
from that ripened into love.
Never could I forget the day,
I iissful day, when my hopes
n certainty. Herbert had asked rue
evening before if I would go with him
bis l>oat. No knight of old could
fl mded me into the little vessel
reverentially than he did. How
She Cotrinaton Star.
lie looked ! How strong ana seir-con
taiued! My heart boat fast, for some
tiling in his manner told me what was
coming, but I was inexpressibly happy,
nevertheless. He rowed for about half
an hour; then stopping, he lay upon
his oars, and looking me in the face like
a brave heart as he was, told his tale,
though with many a hesitating word
and many a look of anxiety.
Should I give such a one up ? Never!
Yet the temper of my thoughts was such
that I could not stay in-doors ! I left
the house and ran down to the shore of
the bay, having first thrown a shawl
over my head. The storm and darkness
was ternfio, and the tide was coming in
with a hoarse, sullen cry. The salt
mist drenched my hair, the winds tore
and shrieked around me, and overhead
hung the pitch-black sky.
Suddenly I heard a step and, looking
up, saw Herbert himself. I started with
surprise.
“I have been hovering about all day,”
he said. “I had given up hope of see
you. But still I could not tear my¬
self away,”
“You did not doubt me ?” I cried.
“Oh, Herbert !”
My look, my tone, even more than my
words, reassured him.
Thank God !” he said, drawing a
deep breath. “Thank God ! Ii, is not
true, then, what I hear, You are not
goiug to betray me ?”
“Betray you ?”
“I was told you were to bo disinherit¬
ed unless yon married Randolph Heath,
and that the temptation has been too
great for you. I did not believe it. And
yet, and yet—forgive me, darling, I see
I was wrong—I was fearfully afraid.”
“Be afraid no longer,” I whispered,
nestling to liis broad breast. “What are
broad acres and gleaming jewels to youi
dear love ? I am yours and yonrs
only.”
ne bent and kissed me. After a while
he said, “I do not fear for your fidelity,
but I do fear for the persecution you
may suffer. It is bnt a short walk to
the little church, I know the rector;
he was, I find, one of my old school¬
mates. Be mine to-night and I will go
away content. Not till you permit it
shall the marriage be made public.”
“I am yours,” I said, “but let it be
» „ ■***
n a day or two afterward. Poor aunt,
it will need that time to prepare her.”
It was arranged, therefore, that I
should meet my lover ai the same hout
nezt evening, and with a parting em¬
brace I hurried in, lest I should be
missed.
Aunt Mordaunt was in a flatter of ex¬
citement the next morning. She had
just received a letter saying that Ran¬
dolph Heath had returned and would be
at Delmar Hall by sunset.
“Now, Charlotte, my love,” she said
bustling into my chamber before I was
awake, “do try and look your best to¬
night. You are a beauty, I know, but a
charming toilet sets you off amazingly.
Lay off your heavy crape just for to¬
night and wear that white silk with the
bly-of-the-valley trimmings. Yon must
fascinate this Randolph Heath at the
outset; it will be quite comfortable to
have him at your feet, for you must
marry him, my dear; you are too sensi¬
ble a girl to make a beggar of yourself.”
I only smiled in answer, and I suf¬
fered my rnaid to array me in the
dainty silk. But at set of rug, instead
of receiving Baudolph neath iu the
grand parlors of the hall I was speeding
away with my lover toward the old
ivy-covered church, built of bricks im¬
ported from England a century and a
half before; the church where the Del
mars for five generations had been
married. In the soft glitter of the early
starlight we were wedded, An hour
after I was home again. But as I as¬
cended to my room I remembered that
I had looked my last upon the blinking
Delmar diamonds and on the broad
lands of the hall.
I had hardly closed the door behind
me when my aunt entered.
“Charlotte, you must come down at
once; you must indeed,” she said.
“Randolph is in the drawing-room and
asks to see yon. Don’t lie odd. Here,
Lueile, do your yonng lady’s hair.
I stood uncertain.
“Aud now, my dear, do put on your
diamonds,” continued poor auntie, flut¬
tering round me; “you should always
wear gems, they become yon.”
“But, auntie, the diamonds are not
mine,” I began, wishing time to think.
I was almost ready, then and there,
to tell the truth. But I pitied auntie
and hesitated.
“Bnt they will be, my love, as soon
as you marry Randolph Heath,” she
urged.
•*I shall never marry him,” I an
swered. rate,
“We shall see, my love. At any
come down and welcome him. That
much is due, at the least”
This decided me. It was his due.
As we descended to the grand drawing¬
room where my grandfather’s adopted
awaited us, I stopped for a moment
sen gazed around me with
on tlio stairs and
almost a sigh of regret. In a few days
I must go out from the dear ola place
disowned and disinherited. Poor auntie!
the blow will fall heavily on her.
Shutting my hand involuntarily over
the marriage ring upon my finger, I fol¬
lowed my sunt, my heart m my moutn.
A tall figure arose as we entered and ad¬
vanced to meet us. I heard my aunt’s
warm word of welcome, and then I fait
my own hands grasped, and looked up.
I cried out in amazement, for the
stranger was Herbert Stanley, my new¬
ly-wedded husband.
“Can I hope that you will ever for¬
give me?” he said, with a smile. “I am
Randolph Heath. 1 have known of the
proviso to your grandfather's will for
years. But as I wanted you to love me
for myself, if you eould, I plauued t»
meet you last summer. Can you forgive
me?”
I looked up into his dear, kind face,
‘‘No matter who you are, or what you
planned,” I answered, putting my hand
in his, “I forgive you, for I love you. ”
Then we told the story of our marriage,
Aunt Mordaunt listened in horrified
amazement.
"An indiscreet thing, to say the least,
my love,” she said; “you might have
committed a grave mistake. It is ad
right, since you’ve married Mr. Heath.
But really, my dears, you must have a
wedding. Yes, in order to preserve the
prestige of the old name, if nothing
more, we really must have a wedding
and marry you over again.”
And she did; and it was a most mag
nificent affair, The old hail was in
a blaze of light, and crowded with noble
guests, and I wore point lace and the old
Delmar diamonds.
Bnt I was not half so happy as on the
day when I first heard from my hus¬
band’s lips that he loved me—heard it
that day in his boat.
A Joke on General Sherman.
The Washington correspondent of the
Cleveland (Ouio) Leader makes Col. A.
H. Markland responsible for the follow¬
ing story: “When Gen. Sherman’s army
was at Gollsborongh, N. C., Gen. Sher¬
man made a visit to the headquarters of
Gen. Howard. While there God. Sher¬
man felt the need of a small draught of
whisky to drive off the malarial effects
of the climate on his system. Now, all
the officers of the army knew of Gen.
Howard's rigid temperance proclivities,
and were strict in their respect for them.
Gen. Sherman knew there was no whis¬
ky in Gen. Howard’s quarters, and,
tiXASSA f EXXUA ,»>.l i „ I
Moore, the Medical Director, came in,
and after a little conversation Gen.
Sherman gave him t’he wink, and said:
‘Doctor, have you a seidlitz powder in
your quarters ?’ The doctor answered
that he had. Gan. Howard spoke up
and said: ‘Gsn. Sherman, it is not
necessary to go to the doctor's quarters.
I have plenty of seidlitz powders here,
and good ones too. I will get you one.’
If there was anything iu Gen. Howard’s
quarters that Gen. Sherman did not
want it was a seidlitz powder, and there¬
fore he said to Gen. Howard: ‘Nevei
mind, General. Give yourself no
trouble.’ Howard was then getting the
powder and glasses of water ready. ‘I
will be going by Moooe’s quarters after
a while.’ Dr. Moore was a great wag
and quickly took in the situation and
became a party to the joke on Gen.
Sherman. He said to Gen. Sherman:
‘By the way, General, I don’t think I
have a seidlitz powder in my quarters,
and you had better take the one Gen.
Howard has.’ By ibis time Gen. How¬
ard had the powder all ready for use
and handed the two glasses to Gen.
Sherman. Rather than offend Howard
by saying he meant whisky he drank the
foaming stuff down, much to his own
disgust, to the satisfaction of Gen.
Howard, and to the amusement of the
staff officers.”
Up in a Ralloor
The balloon corps employed by Gen.
Graham to reconnoitre Osman Digma s
movements represents a force which
may hereafter become formidably effec
five in modern warfare, although the
date of its first utilization in this way
eome3 almost within the memory of
some men still living. The earliest ap
pearance of balloons in war was during
the siege of a fortress in Northern Franee
by the Austro-Prussian invaders of 1731,
when an adventurous aeronaut thor¬
oughly surveyed the Austrian line
in the teeth of a heavy but wholly inef¬
fectual fire directed against him by the
enraged euemy. The balloon comtnn
nic itions kept with the outside world by
Paris during the German blockade of
1S7Q is still fresh in public m-ranry.
Poor Co’. Burnaby, one of the boldest
aeronauts of his time, ha-1 daring theo
ries about the possible use of balloons
iu war which his own f. a s amply jus i
fted. The project of freighting a bal¬
loon with small bombs, aud dropping
them into the enemy’s ranks, has b=en
repeatedly mooted, but not yet tested
by actual experiment.
Very Small Wages.
It appears that the average agriem
tural wages in the County Tipperary is
from seven to eight shillings per week,
and for constant work, by which is meant
that the laborer mnst put np with the
same wage in harvest rime when other
men are earning four to five •shillings
per day. Some of these unfortunate
serfs have to support several children,
themselves and their wives ou seven
shillings per week.
COVINGTON, MAY .
k HARD WINTER ON GAME
I.IVINU ON TI 1 K BOUNTY OF KIND.
HEAltTKD FAIt.MlSltS.
Beer, C limit with llunccr. Fnlevln K Farm
yiuds la Feed wiili the Faille.
A few days ago the New York Sur,
printed a story about seven deer having
left the woods near Pocano, Penn., and
taken up their quarters with a farmer’s
cattle in his barnyard. The story was
read by several farmers, and has
brought out reports of similar incidents
in the towns of Bethel and Forestburgh,
N. Y. As the presence of so shy an ani
mai as the deer in the very dooryards of
farms and of village residences is some
thing rarely, if ever, noticed before in
the region, the inference is that the
winter has been the most severe one on
wild animals in the swamps and woods
ever known. The snow has been over
three feet deep on the level in the
woods, and the thermometer had ranged
steadily below zero for more than a week
in the Sullivan county mountains.
A few days ago George E. Stanton,
who lives beside the plank road,
near Mongaup Valley, saw a large deer
running down the road toward his
house. It jumped the fence within a
rod of the house, and leaped into the
barnyard, where it made itself at home
among the cattle, and began to eat from
the hay rick. The deer was gauut with
hunger, and none of the farmer’s family
had any disposition to disturb it. A
young hound that lay on the back stoop
got scent of the deer, and before he
could be secured was chasing it across
the fields toward the Mongaup River.
The snow being deep and covered with
a thin crust, through which the deer
broke at almost every jump, the dog
gained rapidly ou it, and when it was
within a quarter of a mi'ie of the river
caught up with it and seized it by one
of the hind legs. The deer kept ou,
dragging the dog through the snow as
he held fast to its leg.
Stanton and two of his sons, fearing,
that the dog would kill the deer, joined
in the chase with the intention of taking
the dog off and capturing the deer alive
if possible. They overtook the dog and
deer on the bank of the river. After a
desperate struggle the cier was bound
with a rope and brengnt back to the
-x —
eats as composedly as any of the cattle,
if it is not disturbed by the presence of
any one.
Oue day last week a farmer living in
Bethel township saw a buok toward
eveuingleap the fence into his barnyard.
The barn door was open, aud the buck
went in. The farmer rau to the barn
and closed the door. Tfl# deer was
feeding in a manger by the side of a
COW. It was startled by the closing of
the door, and jumping over the manger
tried to jump out of a small window in
the opposite side of the barn. The
window was too small to permit the pas
sage of its body, and it hung wedged in,
struggling violently. The farmer and
two other men tied the deer with ropes,
and got it out of the window by cutting
away the boards. They locked the ani
mal in an outbuilding. The next morn¬
ing a doe made its appearance at the
barnyard. Being frightened away it
ran half way across a field and stopped,
looking wistfully back.
At the same time a great noise was
heard iu the outhouse where the buck
was confined. Yue farmer went in and
found the deer‘entangled in the rope by
which he had been secured around the
horns, and lying on the floor kicking
aud struggling. The farmer hastily cut
the ropes for fear the buck might injure
himself. He was no sooner free than
he sprang to his feet, and dashed against
the door which had been left ajar, and
went bounding away across the fields.
It was j (lined by the dog, and the twe
disappeared in the woods, The next
morning they were both iu the barn¬
yard again, and ever since then the
farmer has left hay and fodder iu the
yard for them. Them come every night
?.nd eat it.
A neighbor of the above farmer dis¬
covered a buck and a doe among his cat¬
tle a week ago, and they steal back at
every opportunity to share the fodder.
All of these deer were thin almost to
emaciation when first seen, but have in¬
creased greatly in flesh on the fare of
the kind-hearted farmers. Deer have
been seen among cattle iu othei
parts of the county, but, according tc
reports, some of them Dave not fared sc
well, for in spite of their miserable con¬
dition, they were followed and killed by
heartless mountaineers.
According to the Building Newt,
manufacturers of wood mosaic say that
they have found by experiments that
hard maple on end is from four to five
marble, and oqua. ., y
times as durable as baked
durable as the hardest tile.
as end-wood
is reported that two
were laid in the elevators of a
building in Chicago about
months ago, and that the floors are
as good condition as when first
althongh each elevator carries
1,000 to 2,000 people daily.
i from Dakota
j A writ* where
j veMng {or big old home,
^ ^ weep without his tears
, ■ ing icicle6 aud there’s somethin#
I than hay to burn.
ONLY A SIMPLE COLD.
Bnt this Is the Sfnnnn of the Year When
a Cold Is Pniiaeroaiu
Nothing is more common than "a
cold in the head,” which is a very
simple malady if it is cured there and
goes no further. But the membrane
which lines the air passages of the head
is continuous with that which lines the
throat and lungs, so the inflammation in
the head, if not arrested, spreads to the
throat and lungs, causing cough and
finally cpBsnmption and death.
When the pores of the body are
closed, the ill ellects are likely to be felt
in the weakest parts of the body first
Soma suffer from colds first in the head,
some in the lungs; in some a cold affects
the joints, oausingrheumatism, in others
the bowels, in others the kidneys, and
so on. When the cold has settled in the
weakest part of the body, or in any part
of it, all the lurking impurities in the
system seem to concentrate there; that
is the lowest point as to health, and all
the streams of degeneracy flow into it
More people die of pneumonia and
kindred diseases in the spring thau dur¬
ing any other season of the year, and
the reason of this we need not go far to
discover. Shut up in close and heated
rooms, the impurities of the body have
accumulated within it. The skin, from
lack of frequent bathing and from being
kept from the air by close-fitting flan¬
nels has become inactive; the Jungs,
from breathing impure air, have beoome
enfeebled; and the whole body, imper¬
fectly and scantily snppried with well
oxygenated blood, has lost its elasticity
and soundness. A little cold taken when
one is in such a condition is not easily
thrown off; it is like a little break in
the dykes that keep out the sea; unless
stopped promptly it may open wider and
wider till the river of death flows
through it.
The lungs, the skin, the kidneys, the
bowels, are the great sewers through
which the impurities of the body flow
from it. So long as these are kept wide
open impurities cannot collect in the
body. The lungs must have pure air,
or they cannot perform their office per¬
fectly. The pores of the skin must he
kept open by exercise, by bathing and
friction, or they cannot perform their
office. The kidneys must be sup
liquid enough. We have no national bev¬
erage as the Germans have; we are not
wine drinkers as the French are, or tea
drinkers as the English, and iee water,
of which large quantities are consumed
by us, is not the best thing for us.
Soups are recommended as meeting a
want of our people. Water, hot and
cold, chocolate and its cousins, cocoa
and “shells,” are wholesome beverages,
and it is better for suoh as find tea an d
ooffee “to agree” with them to drink that
than not to take fluid enough. Con¬
stipated bowels meau cold feet and a hot
head. Exercise aud diet will cure these
if taken seasonably.
Boerhave’s rules for health were these
three: “Keep the feet warm, the head
cool, and ths bowels open.” These
rules can be well observed by due atten¬
tion to the sewers of the body as above
particularized, for if there is a free
movement through these there will be a
corresponding demand for fresh sup¬
plies and nutrition, and the functions of
ihe body will be so vigorously carried on
that disease will find nothing to lay hold
of.
The first thing to do when one finds
one has a cold is to open the pores that
are closed, to start into action the func¬
tions that are suspended. Taere are
various simple waysoi doiug this known
to everybody, and we are inclined to be¬
lieve that the simplest ways are the best.
Some can “work off" a cold; some can
starve it off; sage tea iu large quantities,
Iruuk while one keeps in a uniform warm
atmosphere, will cure some; a "wet
pack’' is efficient with many; a bountiful
fruit diet is a good cure; a Turkish bath
is agreeable to some constitutions. But
no one can afford to neglect even a
•little cold,” since it may draw after it
such large consequences.
A Yery Economical Man.
A Maine merchant who always had the
reputation of being close-fisted, failed
and ofl'ered to settle for 50 cents on the
dollar. His creditors sent a man to rep¬
resent them all and make arrange¬
ments with him. This happened 43
years ago, when what is now a city was
a village with two narrow planks for
sidewalks. The creditor noticed that
the failed merehaut instead of taking
the plauks, walked by liis side on the
grass. walking down in the
“What are you
grass there for ?” he aske.1.
“Oh, I’m too poor to walk on the side¬
walk,’’’said his debtor, in the humble
tone of Uriah Heep.
“Well,"responded the creditor, "if yon
are as economical as that, I guess you
will be able to pay us iu full one of
those days, aud we won’t settle for 50
cents on a dollar.”— Lewiston (Me.)
Journal. m __
_ blown
A Pittsburg girl had her bangs
off in an explosion, and the company
settled with her for $25. Bangs must
be high down that way. Up here yon
cau get a whole rink full of bangs for
two shillings, and the mnsio thrown in.
—Dansville uV. Y.) Breeze.
THE CAPTURE OF NEW ORLEANS.
The Story ns Told by n Boy who was There
When it Took [ 1 ’fnce.
Prom the Century War Papers we
quote the following from the paper by
George W. Cable, on “New Orleans be¬
fore the Capture,” iu the April number:
“What a gathering I The riff-raff of
the wharves, the town, the gutters.
Such women—Buch wrecks of women 1
And all the juvenile rag-tag. The lower
steamboat landing, well covered with
sugar, rice and molasses, was being
rifled. The men smashed; the women
scooped up the smashings. The river
was overflowing the top of the levee, A
rain-storm began to threaten. ‘Are the
Yankee ships in sight ?’ I asked of an
idler. He pointed out the tops of their
naked masts as they showed up across
the huge bend of the river. They were
engagiug the batteries at C.irnp Caal
mette—the old field of Jackson’s renown.
Presently that was over. Ah, me I I
see them now as they come around
Slaughterhouse Point into full view,
silent, so grim and terrible; black with
men, heavy with deadly portent; the
long-banished Stars and Stripes flyrng
against the frowning sky. Oh, for the
Mississippi! the Mississippi! Just then
she came down upon them. But how ?
Drifting helplessly, a mass of flames.
“The crowds on the levee howled and
screamed with rage, Tiio swarming
docks answered never a word; but one
old tar on the Har ford, standing with
lanyard in band beside a great pivot
gun, so plain to view that you could see
him smile, silently pitted its big, black
breecli, and blandly grinned.
“And now the rain came down in
sheets. About one or two o’clock in the
afternoon (as I remember), I being again
in the store with but one door ajar, came
a roar of shoutings and imprecations and
crowding feet down Cammou street,
‘Hurrah for Jeff Davis I Hurrah for
Jeff Davis ! Shoot them ! Kill them !
Hang them 1* I looked the door on the
outside and ran to the front of the mob,
bawling with the rest, ‘Hurrah for Jeff
Davis P About every third man there
had a weapon out. Two officers of the
United States Navy were walking
abreast, unguarded and alone, looking
not to right or left, never frowning,
never flinching, while the mob screamed
in their ears, shook cocked pistols in
gates of death those two men walked to
the City Hall to demand the town’s sur¬
render, It was one of the bravest deeds
I ever saw dona
“Later events, except one, I leave to
other pens, An officer from the fleet
stood on the City Hall roof about tc
lower the 11 ig of Louiuina. Iu the
street beneath gleamed the bayonets
of a body of marines. A howitzer
pointed up aud another down the street.
All around swarmed the mob. Just then
Mayor Monroe—lest the officer above
should be fired upon and the howitzers
open upon the crowd—came out alone
and stood just before one of the howit
zers, tall, slender, with folded arms,
eying the gunner, Down sank the flag.
O-iptain Bell, tali and stiff, marched off
with the flag rolled under his arm, and
the howitzers clanking behind. Then
cheer after cheer rang out for Monroe.
And now, I dare say, every one is well
pleased that, after all, New Orleans
never lowered her colors with her own
hands.”
Baltic Panics.
The slightest cause has led to grav¬
est results in battles. Let a battery
change positions with a rush, rauning
through a brigade, and those men must
be handled firmly to prevent a falliug
back. Caissons in search of ammuni
tion have stampeded regiments time aud
again. Let oue regiment fall baok has¬
tily to secure a new position, .and it is a
cool line of veterans indeed which will
open to let the men pass, and then close
up firmly alter them. It is not the fear
of being killed that unnerves a mau
fightiug iu the ranks, Men who have
fired seventy-five rounds at close range
have been afterward stampeded by the
fear of being surrounded and eapturod.
With veteran fighters the fear of being
made a prisoner is perhaps stronger thau
that of death itself. A man falliug dead
as a line advances produces no couster
nation, The gap is closed as quick as
the men on either side cau move up.
But, let a man be wounded aud call cut
at the top of his voic ), as was sometimes
i the case, aud a sort of quiver rnus up
I and down his whole company. Let a
second and third be hit, and it requires
the stern: “.Steady, men!” of the cap
tain to prevent disorder in the ranks.
The teamsters were the direct cause
of more than one panic. Being non
combatants and manned, they were, of
course, helpless, and for this same
reason easily frightened, Let one sin
gle shell fall among the wagon-train,
and nine out of tea wagous were bound to
move. If one teamster abandoned bis
wagon, others were certain to follow his
example, no matter how slight the dan¬
ger. —M. Quad.
Courts-Martial —It may be pre
surned, says an exchange, that courts
martial will begin to be popular with
army officers. As at present conducted
they are perfectly harmless, and a rath
er more picturesque form of recrea
tioa tb«-) average parlor theatricals,
STRAY BITS OF HUMOR
FOUND IN THJl C'OI.U.UNS OF OUB
EXCHANGES.
Not Gains to be n Darie-The Unfortunate
Slcisb H'de—The Olijnrt of the Ditch
Had been there Before, Etc., Etc.
NOT GOING TO BE A DUDE.
A young lady, a Sunday school teacher
in a church pretty near the corner of
Gilmore street and Lafayette avenue,
was on Sunday defining faith to her
class of young Americans, aged from 6
to 10 years. She sot about her task in
a practical way. “Faith in anything,”
she said, “is to believe that something
existed which could not be seen. Sup¬
pose,” she said, “your papa should tell
you he had put ten dollars in the bank
for you, and that you might draw it
from the bank when you grew older.
You did not see the money put in, but
you know it is there because you believe
what your papa tells you, and when you
grow up and want the money you dress
yourself up, with your gloves on, and
your high hat, and your cane, and
you—”
At this juncture the teacher was
startled by one of the boys, who cried
out:
“What are you giving us? Do you
thint I’m a dude ?”
The young lady says she felt pros¬
trated, and that it will be some time
before she stirs no the question of faith
again .—Baltimore American,
A SLEIGHING.
“Then you won’t let your daughter go
with the sleighing parly ?”
“Indeed, I won’t.”
“I didn't suppose you were opposed
to young folks having a good time.”
"That ain’t it. I’m not down on
sleighriding, but Mary Ann has had her
last one while I have to foot her bills.
The last time I let her go she had to
squall and lose a ten dollar set of teeth
in a snow drift when the sleigh upset.
A girl that can’t keep her mouth shut
when she knows it’s full of moDey ain't
got no business in a sleigh.”— Chicago
Ledger.
DUST AND DUST.
The minister had preached a very
tong, parched sermon on the creation of
of man, and one little girl in tin oongre
t“—T tnm a"* *
"Certainly, my child. ’
“The preacher, too?”
“Of course. Why did you think he
was not made like the rest of us ?”
“Oh, because he is so awful dry,
mamma, I don’t see how they could
make him stick togethar ."—Merchant
Traveler,
Tnz dude,
Some tilings in this world
Are hard to explain:
The lighter the dado
The heavier the cane,
The bigger the hat
The smaller the brain;
Does any one know
Why these things are so?
—Boston Courier.
the object of toe ditch.
A New Yorker who was in Missouri
last fall found a number of men digging
a ditch between two small lakes.
“I can’t see the objeot,” he observed,
after surveying the work for a while.
“No ?” dryly answered the boss.
“The lakes are too shallow to be navi
gated.”
“Well?”
“And the ditch can’t be of any nse
except to the fish.”
"Mebbenot.”
“Say !” called the nettled New Yorker,
“what is the object of your infernal old
ditch anyhow ?”
“Toissue $100,000 worth of bonds on,’
was the calm reply.— Wall Street Newt.
PERILS OF LOVE NEAR PITTSBURGH*
Eulalia—“Ob, you false, base—oh,
don’t you dare to come near me ! Take
your ring, and leave me this instant!
Algernon— “Really, Eulalia, I am
amazed, shocked. What has produced
this sudden chaDge? ’
“Oh, you are very innocent, very,
you fickle, wayward Lothario. Never
presume to speak to me again!
“But, what have I done?”
“What have you not done! How
came that daub of soot on the end of
your nose? Tell me that, you
“Why, my darling, I have just been
looking through a smoked glass at the
eclipse.” Forgive me,
• How stupid I am.
dear. I thought veu had been kissing
a Pittsburgh girl.”
BEEN THEBE BEFOBE.
Mrs. Bright (guest at a littie dinner) :
“On ! I am so glad Mrs. Dash has
come.”
Mr. Bright: "Why, my dear, I
thought she and you were great social
rivals.”
“We are.”
“Aud worse than that, she is a particu¬
lar favorite with our host, Mr. De Klum
sey, and may be given the place of
honor at the table. That would be mor¬
tify iug.”
“On the contary, that is why I am so
glad. In this house the host does the
carving, aud the place of honor, as you
know, is at his right hand.”
j “But what of that ?”
j “It will be her dress, not mine, that
j gets splashed all over with gravy this
j time,”— Philo. Call,
VOL. XL NO 25 .