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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 .