Newspaper Page Text
JOTTINGS AND CLIPPINGS.
Too can’t draw blood from a atone,
bnt you can atone a “bl/Sd.”
It’s a long lane that has no turn, but it
sometimes runs up against a fence.
Th* London JHmcs is grumbling at
uie lack of pnblio parka in the great
Lnglish metropolis.
“Do you go to the Adirondacks this
summer, my buck?” “No door, I’ve
another roe to hoe. ”
A bat poison is advertised that will
make rata go away to a neighbor's house
and die. It fills a long felt want.
The Derrick tolls of an Oil City man
who has to turn his toes in. If he didn’t
they would hit the sides of tire streets.
One of Illinium's Zulus has run away
from the show. Show this to your wife,
if she wishes to venture out on a picnic.
An Irish gentleman, speaking of the
scarcity of feed in Utah, says that thous
ands of cattle have had to be killed to
save their lives.
“Water always seeks its level;” and
if thore is too much wliisky in it, it
makes a man seek his level, too.—Nor
ristown Herald.
A new shade for silk is oalled "lemon
ade color,” whatever that may mean.
New Orleans Picayune. It means a
heavy watered silk.
Among the. assets of agrocer who failed
in business in a Wisconsin town is put
down: “One liver-pad, worn six weeks
—worth fifty cents. ”
Birds begin their morning concerts
shortly aster 3 o’clock, and it is only the
early riser that can have the full benefit
of their sweet songs.
We can’t see why prize fights are so
very bad. The two principals get what
they deserve, and rpre or less loafers
are crippled or killed.
The men who pack the little boxes of
figs have wonderful memories. They
never forget to put the wormy fruit at
the bottom of the box.
David Davis is not the sort of a man
to stay on the fence long. — New Orleans
Picayune. That’s so. No fence can
stand it over half an hour.
Br drinking kerosene you can cure
yourself of diphtheria, but before you try
it, consider which is preferable, drinking
kerosene or having the diphtheria.
When a Kentucky paragrapher writes
a word that the printer can’t make out,
the latter sets it up as “mules,” and nine
times out of ten he gets it right.—Bos
ton Post.
Business men frequently advertise for
“a boy to run errands.” 'The way boys
crawl to and from the postoffice indi
cates that the boy expected to run has
never been found.
The law against carrying concealed
weapons does not apply to bicycles.
They are revolvers, but they avoid cart
ridges, and never go off of themselves.
—Philadelphia Bulletin.
Reginald Bond is the name of an
aristocratic Boston banker. He writes
his name Reg. Bond “ for short,” and
irreverent persons call him Registered
Bond—but not to his face.
New York is accused of paying more
for tobacco than bread, but a man cannot
be always chewing bread, and he cer
tainly cannot smoke it, unless he is a
baker.— Commercial Advertiser.
The venerable Peter Cooper has been
in the habit erf sitting on the air for so
long a time that it will be perfectly
natural when it comes time for him to be
an angel.— Nqiv York Commercial Ad
vertiser.
A wealthy manufacturer of Connecti
cut having built an elegant mansion, and
wishing to take a second wife, said to his
architect: “Which agrees best with
brick and brown stone, brunette or
blonde?”
It has been discovered that phamnus
frangula is a good substitute for rahmus
catliarticus, and only costs half as much.
Then of course it wall probably supply
the place of the other to a considerable
extent— Peck’s Sun.
An eminent Boston preacher once said
that it was a mockery to pray at night
for sweet and refreshing sleep, without
seeing to it that the bed-room is well
ventilated. God takes care of those
who take care of themselves.
Mrs. George Eliot Cross will reside
in Cheyne Walk, Chelsea. The marriage
of the eminent authoress has caused a
great deal of hard feeling among her
friends, who seem to know more about
her business than she does herself.
Flashing.
Every one is familiar with the word
flush, as applied to the crimsoned cheeks,
when, the minute capillaries, before in
visible, become suddenly gorged with
blood. The sudden full inflow is the
leading idea.
The word has for a long time been ap
plied to the cleansing of sewers by a
copious amount of water suddenly le*
into them, and which stirs up the foul
contents and bears them before it in its
rush.
This method of cleansing the sink and
soil-pipes of our dwellings should be
systematically and thoroughly employed
An ordinary stream will flow over the
sediment, and allow it to accumulate so
as, in time, to fill, and always to be send
ing back its odor to the house. The dif
ficulty is increased in our sink-pipes by
the carelessness of servants in allowing
peelings, parings, and bits generally, to
enter the pipe, and by the many greasy
particles which constantly pass down.
It is well, once or twice a week, to re
move the strainer, and having filled a
bucket with boiling water, to pour the
latter into the sink at once, at the same
time opening the faucet to the boiler, and
allowing the whole to run two or three
minutes. This will dissolve the greasy
particles, and carry everything off, and
render the pipe clean and sweet.
The word, of late, has been happily
applied to the proper airing of a room by
opening the door and the windows in the
front and rear, so as to secure, as far as
possible, a full rush of the air through.
This is the more necessary, since the
most dangerous impurity—the effluvium
from the skin—is not, like the gases,
subject to the law of diffusion, but tends
to settle upon the floor, furniture and
bedclothing.
A mere opening of a window, however
long, amounts to but little beyond cool
ing the room.
A Girl-Man.
At the Grand Central Theater in this
city is a freak of nature. The name of
Gus Mills is pretty well known among
variety stage frequenters, but the world
has never been told that Gus is a phe
nomenon. From early boyhood he has
exhibited a passion, not for girls, like
other boys, but to be a girl himself.
This desire became a mama, oil at the
present time Gus is more girl than mam
He dresses as a girl, dances as a girl and
flirts with the girls. His female ward
robe is probably the most extensive in
Leadville, and every article made and
everv stitch taken was by Mills own
hand. He makes his own striped stock
ings and paints his face with exquisite
wvTil _Leadville Democrat.
Hamit,ton Journal.
L&MAR & DENNIS, Publishers.
VOL. VIII.—NO* 30.
THE UNHAPPIEBT OP WOMEN.
An Italian Smltßu’i Ei*rhß< In
Ellfra.
The life of Montenegrin women may
bo epitomized in two words—work and
suffering. In some countries women
work ns much ns men—in othera more;
but on the Blnek Mountain they alone do
the work of both men and beasts of bur
don. The variety and intensity of their
sufferings batllo description. Ido not
hesitate to nffirrn that nowhere elso does
the female sex live in such a wretched
condition.
Outbursts of wild joy, noise of gun
shots, dashing of glasses, and songs and
danoes accompany the birth of a boy in
Montenegro; gloom and disappointment
hang over the house if a girl comes to
increase the number of the warrior's
children. Should you congratulate him
on the birth of a daughter, he is sure to
cut short your intended compliment by
saying, “I beg pardon, Bir, ’tis a girl,
and sometimes “’tis a snake.” The
poor little thing grows up ignored and
despised until her bodily strength be
comes in some way a source of revenue
to the family. The boys monopolize all
the affections of both mother and father.
The former freqnently suffers the tor
tures of Niobe, but for fear of her hus
band dares not show her daughter any
tenderness. The little waifs of the Mon
tenegrin family can hardly walk about
the house before they are initiated into
household work, and sent up the mour
tains to gather dry wood Return they
must in the evening, bending under loads
that few men would care to carry, or they
get a sound flogging and no supper. The
flower of their youth prematurely fades
because naturo has no time to shape and
develop their forms. Excessive labor
stamps their faces with precocious age
and a repulsive manliness. The body of
the woman of the Black Mountains is
ill-sliapen and most ungraceful. She is
wanting in that elasticity which is the
soul of all form. Her carriage is heavy,
her step long, and her shoulders are
huokle-backed, like the shoulders of all
who pass ther lives in journeying up and
down mountainous roads with loads not
in keeping with their physical strength.
She walks with her head inclined on her
breast, as though she was orushed by
le feeling of her own abjection. Nc
wonder, therefore, that she looks on the
erect figure of her father, brothers mid
husband as on superior beings, in whose
presence she ought to tremble and keep
silent No wonder that those superior
beings, in turn, never miss an oppor
tunity to assert their superiority and to
rivet the chains by which they keep her
as submissive as a slave.
Outside of household duties the woman
of Montenegro has no opportunity to
develop her mental faculties. It is only
of late years that little girls have been
permitted to attend such schools as the
country affords. The improvement,
however, oannot be very great for a long
time, as the necessities of every-day life
absorb all their time, and the customs of
the country confine the female sex
within the narrow and brutalizing sphere
of the lowest manual labor. Long will
they be doomed to climb rocks and leap
from ravine to ravine to carry home the
needed fuel and provisions. Those
women strange as it may seem, pride
themselves on the hardships they endure.
One day, while going to Nicsic by the
the mountain path, I met a number of
them carrying up the baggage of a party
of English tourists. One was seated on
a rock, weeping bitterly. On being
questioned concerning the cause of her
grief, she replied that she had been in
sulted by one of the party. He had told
her that she would never be able to cany
her share of baggage to the top of the
mountain.
The novelist in search of plots and in
trigues would lose his time by visiting
the Block Mountain. Aside from patriot
ism and self-denial, there is no romance
in the life of Montenegrin women. The
rude mountaineers have no gallantry.
They shrink from the simplest civilities
to women. A compliment, even to the
girl he loved, would subject a Montene
grin to ridicule. Young girls traveling
alone in the heart of the region are safer
than those under escort Woe to the
man, however, who dare address her an
improper word. She would have a pro
tector in every passer-by, and on reach
ing the village, a score of young men
wonld vie with each other for the honor
of washing out the offense with the blood
of the offender.
99 or 999 Tears.
The reason for the use of the odd term
in leases, 999 years, is given in the New
York Journal of Commerce. Lessees
and mortgagees m possession of real es
tate for 100 or 1,000 years demined the
same at an annual rental, retaining a
reversion for the last year of the original
term.
The object of this was an unwilling
ness on the part of the under tenant to
become bound to the performance of the
covenants contained in the original grant;
and also, the importance to the lessor of
a reversionary interest, without which,
under the old English practice, he could
not recover his rent by distress.
Sometimes this reversion was only for
three days or even for one day, but us
ually in long terms the last year was re
tained. Out of this came the popular
notion that the law provided this re
straint, and hence leases were made for
99 or 999 years, where there was no rea
son whatever for any such odd period of
time.
In England there was, in special cases,
a restraint, on corporations or ecclesiasti
cal persons, prohibiting the demise of
lands belonging to them to the impov
erishment of their successors, for a term
Irevond 105 years, and such leases were
made for 99 years. There is no such re
striction in tins State.
An indignant tenant and a rather neg
ligent landlord were overheard in the
following conversation in front of the
Monument, Monday evening:
Tenant (indignantly)—“ My chimney
smokes. ”
Landlord—“ What does it smoke?”
Tenant (more indignantly)— ‘ ‘lt smokes
everything.”
Landlord—“ Has it tried cube be?”
Tenant—“Cubebs!”
Landlord—“ Yes. Give it cubebs. The
chimney has probably got the catarrh,
and smoking cubebs will clear the pas
sage. ” — Danbury jVeu>*.
wht miori.n raw urntrr or
MORTAL BF. PROUD.”
Oh, why thould the eplrit of mortal be proud?
Like a swift-fleeting meteor. % fast-fly log cloud,
A flush of the lightning, a break of the wrtr*
Qe passeth from life to nls rest la the grave.
The leaves of the oak and the willow shall fade!
Be scattered around and together be laid;
And tl>e young and the old, and the low and the
high,
•ball molder to dust and togethar ahall lie.
Vhe Infant a mother attended and loved,
The mother that Infant’s affection who proved,
The husbaud that mother and tnfant who blessed,
Each, all, are away to their dwellings of rest.
The hand of the King that the scepter hath borne,
The brow of the priest that the miter hath worn,
The eye of the sage and the heart of the brave,
Are hidden and loet in the depths of the grave.
The peasant, whoee lot wm to eow and to reap,
The herdsman, who olimbod with his goats to the
steep,
The beggar, who wandered in search of his bread,
Have faded away like the graes that we tread.
So the multitude goes, like the flower or the weed
That to let others succeed;
So the multitude comes, even those wo behold,
To repeat every tale that has often been told.
For we are the same our fathers hare been;
We see the same sights our fathers have seen*,
We drink the same stream aud view the same sun—
And run the same course our fathers have run.
The thoughts we are thinking our fathers would
think;
From the death we are shrinking our fathers would
shrink;
To the life wo are clinging they also would cling,
But it speeds from us all, like a bird on the wing.
They loved, but the story we cannot unfold;
They scorned, but the heart of the haughty is
cold;
They grieved, but no wall from their slumber will
come:
They ioyed, but the tongue of their gladness is
dumb.
They died I—aye, they died; vre things that are
now,
That walk on the turf that lies over their brow,
And make in their dwellings a transient abode.
Meet the things that they met on their pilgrimage
road.
Yea! hope and despondency, pleasure and pain,
We mingle together in sunshine and rain;
And the smile and the tear, the song and the dirge,
BUII follow each other, like surge upon surge.
’Tis the wink of an eye, ’tis the draught of a
breath.
From the blossom of health to the paleness ol
death,
From the gilded saloon to the bier and the shroud;
Oh, why should the spirit of mortal be proud?
SIOO,OOO,
dnd the Thus Marriages Caused Vsenty.
“My mind is made up, mother,” said
young Dr. Delancey, “so let us enjoy
our breakfast and not spoil our digestion
by thinking of the old curmudgeon who
could not even let his eccentricity die
with him, but must dispose of his fortune
in this idiotic manner.”
“But, my dear Arthur,” remonstrated
Mrs. Delancey, “one hundred thousand
dollars is too large a sum to refuse with
out much consideration. ”
“I know that, mother mine, but still I
refuse it, or rather refuse to accept it
with the conditions attached to it. I
prefer to choose my own wife.”
“Is there no alternative?”
“None. ”
“What are the exact words of the let
ter?”
“These,” answered Arthur, taking up
a ponderous letter which had been lying
on the table, and reading from it:
“My IJicar Sib: —Now that the estate of the
lste Tobias Queerby is settled, it becomes my
duty to inform you that he had imposed a con
dition upon his bequest to you. lie bequeaths
to you property to the value of one hundred
thousand dollars, on condition that you inarry
Miss Fidelia Fairfax within two years after his
death. The same amount is bequeathod to Miss
Fairfax, and I have this day notified her that
the same condition is attached to her share of
the estate. This condition was not mentioned
In the will, as it would not liave been reeognizod
as valid by the courts. You need not obey his
request unless yon wish, and your legacy will
remain unaffected, but ho charges you ana her,
as you are upright and honorable, not to enjoy
his hard-earned wealth unless you do as he de
sires. I enclose a copy of the letter to me ask
ing me to acquaint you with liis desires, by
which you will see to what charitable societies
he wished you to give the money he left you in
case you do not yield to the conditions imposed,
and in case you decide to act as a man of honor.
I am, sir, yours, etc.,
Obeeneield Kemt,
Att’y for the estate of Tobias Queerby."
“ There,” cried Arthur, “is not that a
terrible condition to impose ? Of course
I am a man of honor and I must—yes,
must give up this fortune. ”
“But one hundred thousand dollars,
Arthur, is—”
“ Is one hundred thousand dollars, I
know. But marriage to one Ido not
care for would be misery for a life time.
Therefore, as I said before, my mind is
made up. What! Did ho think simply
because he was the friend in youth of
father and this Mr. Fairfax, he can force
their children, who have never seen each
other, to marry whether they love or
hate? No. father has left you well
provided for, mother, and I will soon
get a practice, and so I snap my fingers
at the old fellow’s matrimonial schemes
and will make happy a half dozen orphan
asylums, to say nothing of Miss Fairfax,
who, though she has never seen me,
must detest me as she reads her letter
this morning. ”
“ She may be a very nice young lady,
Arthur,” mildly suggested Mrs. Delan
cey. “When your father was alive he
often spoke of the pretty gill Mr. Fair
fax married, and daughters generally re
semble their mothers, you know.”
“Undoubtedly she is a nice young
lady, mother, as society ladies are. I
dare say she can rattle off the first con
jugation in French, recite Tennyson by
the yard, lead a German, tell just which
comer of her card to turn down for a
call of condolence, or a party call, rave
about majolica and the art decorative,
give the points of a pun, yawn interest
ingly behind a fan, extol the opera,
write mawkish poems, each one with an
Envoi and, in short, be a credit to her
family and the seminary where she was
graduated. I can see her now,” contin
ued Arthur, shaking his yellow curls and
laughing. “She considers me as her
property, but hates me because she feels
sure of me. ‘Yes,’ she says to her con
fidante (chums no longer exist, they
have been massacred by confidantes and
bad French), ‘ I suppose I’ll have to
marry him, the practical wretch.’ ”
“Now, Arthur, you are not just;
neither are you kind to speak so of a girl
you do not know, and have never seen,”
said Mrs. Delancey.
“By jove, mother!” cried Arthur,
bringing his open hand down on the
table with force sufficient to make the
china and his mother jump simul
taneously, "I have aa idea.’’
“ DUM SPIRO, SPKRO.”
HAMILTON, GA-, JULY 22, 1880.
“ What is it, my non?” asked the
lady.
“I see by this letter,” explained the
young physician, “that Miss Fairfax
lives m Metroville. Now, a train leaves
here at eleven and reaches there at two.
Jack Merton, my college chum, lives in
Metroville, and I’ll go there, eee him,
and try to see Miss Fidelia Fairfax with
out being seen by her. H I liko her
looks ril introduce myself, if not I’ll
oome home, bid farewell to the fortune
and settle down to bachelordom and
physio.”
“ You forgot that your oousin Uriah
cornea to-day and may be offended if you
are not here.” urged the widow.
“Mother,” returned Arthut. moek
eameatly, “if anything oould drive me
away from this comfortable homo with
more spoed thou my curiosity to see
Miss Fairfax it would be the knowledge
that that dry old book-worn, Cousin
Uriah, was coining here to bore me with
his learning and his praises of that blue
stocking, his idol Araminta, for whose
hand he is too bashful to propose. He’s
a nioe young fellow, but, oh, such a
bore. That decides me; Igo at eleven
o’clock.”
And in the smoking train that left
Opoliston at eleven o'clock bound for
Metroville sat Dr. Arthur Dolancey puff
ing a cigar gravely.
“ Father, saia Miss Fairfax, while
presiding over a cunning little breakfast
table in a cosy little dining-room in the
most comfortable littlo house in the little
city of Metroville, “my mind is made np.
I cannot take the 'money—l cannot
marry a man at the order of another even
if that other does offer me one hundred
thousand dollars to do so.”
“ Well, ray dear Fidelia,” returned Mr.
Fairfax, “Ido not feel oompetent to ad
vise you further than bid you follow the
dictates of your own heart. Still, my love,
I would counsel you not to be hasty, if
your dear mother wore alive she would
tell you in a moment what to do—l must
say, though, Fidelia, that one hundred
thousand dollars is—”
“ Yes, pa, I know, one hundred thous
and dollars is a great deal of money, hut
even that sum cannot tempt me to marry
a man I do not love—have never seen In
fact. Was a girl ever placed in such a
humiliating position? I wish the eccen
tric old Mr. Tobias Qneerby had been
content to keep his eccentricity to him
self. The ideal If the friendship that
existed between you and Mr. Delanoey
and him gave him the right to dispose of
the hands and hearts of his friends' chil
dren."
“But yon needn’t marry him, you
know, my dear,” said Mr. Fairfax. "If
I had not l>een so unfortunate the past
few years I would say at once give up this
fortune; but I cannot leave you much,
my love, and I know what a comforting
thing money is. ”
“ But I can’t marry him, pa.”
“Well, Mr. Greenland Kent, the
attorney, says the condition is not legal.
“But oh, pa, Mr. Queerby relied on
my honor not to take the money without
accepting the condition, and my honor
makes the condition binding if the law
does not," said Miss Fairfax, decidedly.
“ True, my dear,” replied the gentle
man, “yet this I must say, Fidelia, i
have often heard your poor mother speak
of Mr. Delancey, and always in terms ol
the highest praise, and, you know that
as a general rule sons are like their
fathers. I have no doubt he is a most
estimable young man.”
‘‘ I have no doubt he is, pa. I dare say
that he can interlard his conversation
with yards of Latin that he don't half un
derstand, can write sonnets and triolets
in a lady’s album, can tell the best time
of all the oarsmon and race horses, can
play polo, can tell what kind of a coat
ought to be worn on eaoh day of the
week, can say ‘Very clovah, bai Jove,’ as
if he were a thorough man of the world,
can tell what new play is going to be a
success, can flirt with everybody and vow
all the girls are breaking their poor
hearts for him, con tell college yarns all
night and laugh loudest at his own wit,
in short, prove himself an honor to society
and Harvard College. I can see him now
talking to his pal (there are no more class
mates; pals and college slang murdered
them long ago) and saying: ‘Oh, bai
Jupitah, old fellow, it’s adoocedbore, ye
know, but the poor little girl will break
her heart if I don’t marry her, and I sup
pose I will have to, bai Jove, yaas,’ while
all the time he hates me Hke poison. ”
“Now, now, now, Leslie, my love!”
cried Mr. Fairfax, “this is not right,"
yet ho could not refrain from laughing.
“You are unjust, unkind—you should
not sneak so of one you have never
seen.” “Oh, papa!” exclaimed Fidelia,
suddenly clasping her hands and shak
ing her black curls, merrily.
“What, my dear!” asked the father.
“I have an idea. The lawyer’s letter
says Mr. Fairfax lives in Opoliston.
Now, Ilena Lester lives there, and she’s
my schoolmate and she’s been begging
me to call on her. There's a train leaves
at eleven and I’ll go to-day. I’ll con
trive to see Mr. Arthur Delancey with
out being seen, and I’ll judge by his
looks whether I’ll ask him to be intro
duced. If I don’t like him I’ll throw the
fortune to the hospitals and become an
old maid, and make tea forever for my
dear, stupid, loving, darling pa So make
haste, pa, I must prepare for my jour
ney."
“But you are not going to-day, my
dear,” complained Mr. Fairfax, “you
forget that your cousin Araminta is com
ing to-day to stop with us, and she might
be offended if you were not here to re
ceive her.”
“Pa, if anything could drive me from
the house it would Vie the thought that I
would have to listen to the dissertations
of the learned Araminta and hear her
praises of that modest, unassuming
Uriah, whoever he is. Araminta is a
good enough body, pa, but she does
weary me so. That decides me. I go
to-day. ”
In the drawing-room car of the train
that left Metroville at eleven o’clock
bound for Opoliston, sat Mias Fidelia
Fairfax reading the latest novel.
“Jack,” said Arthur Delancey, tossing
his hat on the table in Jack Merton’s
room, and throwing himself on the
lounge, “are you quite sure you were
right about Moss Fairfax’s house being
the seventh from here?”
“Of oourse I am. I’ve often been
there to see him and his daughter,” an
swered Jack.
“All, his daughter! I think I saw
her at the window as I passed.”
“Undoubtedly you did; she sits there
all day.”
"Lively girl she must be. Hag aha
black hair and oyea?"
“Yes.”
“ And she is—well, not pretty.”
“Tlioro you arc wrong. Bho is
pretty.”
“.Tack, old follow, you always had
queer ideas of female beauty. Why she
looks like a schoolmarm. Is sho one of
the cultured, clover sort?”
“ She is, eh. Then I’ve seen her, no
doubt. ”
“That must have boon her in the win
dow, there is no other lady in the
house. ”
“Oh,” muttered Arthur. "I’ll run
to the telegraph offioe, Jock, if yen’ll ex
cuso me, mid then I’ll be at your service
and we’ll have a jolly night of it.”
That afternoon Mrs. Dolouoey received
a telegraph dispatch in the following
words:
Have seen the “ condition.” Good-bye for
tune. I wouldn't have her for a million. I
leave at eleven to-morrow morning.
Arthur.
“ Rena, my love," said Fidelia Fair
fax, as she come into Miss Roua Lester’s
boudoir after u long walk; “I am not
sorry yon oould not come out with mo
for I kept walking up and down ono
street which, though it ploased mo by
its pretty houses, would have wearied you
who kuow it so well.”
“What street was it?” asked Miss
Lester.
“The st.roet on which you said Mrs.
Delanoey lived. By the way, who was
the gentleman I saw sitting on the
porch?”
“Oh, that must have been Arthur.
All tho girls arc in love with him.”
“I don’t admire their taste.”
“Oh, Fidelia; why he’s so handsome."
“ Then I did not see him.”
" Oh, it must have been he; he is the
only man in tho house. ”
“ Has he light hair?”
"Yes, very light.”
“ And a book-wormy look?”
“ For sliame, Fidelia, no’s very, vory
clever; but lie’s handsome, too."
"I don’t doubt ho is the one I saw.
Well, the Opoliston girls aro welcome to
him. Suppose we stroll to the telegraph
office, Rena; I wont to send a message to
pa”
That afternoon Mr. Fairfax received a
telegraph message as follows:
I have seen the hundred thousand dollar
prize. A million would bo too little. I take
,ihe eleven o’clock train to-morrow morning.
Fidelia.
Midway between Opoliston and Me
troville was a junction of three railroads.
Tracks crossed and curved around each
other till the ground appeared to be cov
ered with an iron network.
How it happened no one ever learned,
but two switches had been left misplaced,
and as the train bound from Opoliston to
Matroville came thundering along, it
shot off in the wrong direction, tlion
seemed to stand still for a moment, then
seemed to shiver all over, and the next
second tlio engine lay on its side, under
two coaches, its driving wheel revolving
so that no spokes could be seen, flinging
earth and stones and ashes like a volcano.
Then, ere any warning could be given,
on rushed the train from Opoliston bound
for Metroville. A shriek from the
whistle, and engines, cars, baggage,
railroad ties and tracks became one un
sightly mass, half-hidden by escaping
steam.
In live minutes the discovery was made
that no one had been killed and very few
injured, and those but slightly.
“ There’s a young lady lying on the
depot platform who says she thinks her
leg is broken,” said an old gentleman to
a group who were assisting the ladies.
“Is there?” saida young gentleman
who was wrapping a bandage around an
old lady’s wrist. “All. now, that’s done
nicely, he continued, addressing the
lady. “ Now,” ho added, turning to the
old gentleman, “if you will conduct me
to the young lady I will go with you. I
am a surgeon. ”
The surgeon was Arthur Delancey,
and his conductor presented him to a
very pretty young lady who was reolin
ing on a rough couch extemporized of
mail bags. Bne had very pretty black
eyes and blaok curls. She did not appear
to lxi in much pain, and smiled archly at
Arthur.
“If Miss Fairfax was only like her!”
was Arthur’s first thought.
Her injury proved to be but a sprained
ankle, and laughing merrily at her former
fears she accepted the arm of tho physi
cian and permitted him to almost carry
her to the hotel.
He supported her to the hotel parlor
and insisted on giving the black-eyed
patient his personal attention, a compli
ment she did not swim loth to accept.
Homo time was lost in sending for medi
cine, and over an hour had passed before
the surgeon had bandaged the patient’s
foot. lie was standing leaning on the
mantel-piece under the influence of the
black eyes, and she seemed content to
say nothing but quietly admire the doc-
golden curls and frank blue eyes,
when the hall-boy, who had received
several large gratuities from the doctor
for having run for medicines, and who
was, therefore, his friend for life, rushed
into the parlor, saying:
“Home one sent telegrams to Gpolis
ton and Metroville, saying there’ll lieen
a fearful accident, and saying nothing
about lives lining lost. Ho two trains
have come in, one from each place, full
of people looking after relatives, and
there are visitors for both of you. ”
Bcarcely had he finished when through
the broad doorway of the jiarlor ran four
people. They were Mrs. Delancey, on
the arm of a fair-haired little man, and
Mr. Fairfax dragging in a very tall and
very black-haired and angular young
lady.
“Fidelia Fairfax, by Jove!” cried Ar
thur, as he saw the young lady.
“Oh, my, Mr. I)elancey!’ r screamed
the black-eyed patient, as she saw the
fair-haired little man.”
“My son!” cried Mrs. Delancey, em
bracing the doctor.
“Fidelia, Fidelia, my daughter!”
roared Mr. Fairfax, embracing the black
eyed patient
“Mr. Uriah!” softly murmured tha
angular lady, crossing to the little man.
1. L. DENNIS, Editor.
SI.OO it Year.
“Oh, Miss Araminta!" squookod U xe
littlo man and he sliook hands feebly
with the angular lady.
“And you oro really Miss Fairfax!”
said Arthur to his blook-oyed patient.
“I’m so glad." J 1
“And you’re Mr. Delanooy,” said Fido
lia; “I’m so glad,” and then alio blushed.
“ My dear Miss Fairfax," said Arthur,
then, bluntly, “may I hopo that we
may both retain our hundred thousand
dollars?”
“Do you moan retain it with honor,”
she asked, blushing again.
“Yes. Don’t you think it would be a
shame to destroy the calculations of that
gsod old soul, Quoorby, who is now no
more? Don t you think we ought to do
as he wished us to?”
“Ask jio, dootor,” said block-eyes.
“Araminta,” said Uriah, “this meet
ing is auspicious. I—l—will you—will
you—”
“ I understand you, Uriah. Take mo."
rotumod the onguliu ono, and they again
sliook hands feebly.
Two months later, at Mr. Fairfax’s cosy
littlo house, the guests wore assembled to
witness the woudiug ceremonies of two
couples. They wore Arthur and I’idelia
and Uriah and Armenia. .
After they lmd been happily united
and congratulated, Mr. Fairfax,' who was
oonsoliug Mrs. J lelaneoy for tlio loss of
her son, said: “My dear Mrs. Delanoey,
you are a comfortable sort of a woman
and I am a oomfortable sort of a man. I
have been mode to-night a father to your
son aud you a mother to my daughter.
Do you know of any just cause and im
pediment in the way of our boooming,
ahem—”
It apjieared that she did not, the sor
vioes of the minister was again put iu
requisition, and tho old folks were not
the least happy of tho party.
Ingenious Escape of Nihilists.
Wlion it is remembered that the prisons
of Russia are crowded with twice ns many
inmates os they are constructed for, and
that the pay of the overtaxed warders is
barely sufficient to keep them from starva
tion, the numerous escapes of criminals
may lx)easily accounted for. Theevasious
have been so plentiful during the last few
years that hardly a day has elupsod with
out tho flight of somebody or other from
his cell. In the case of ordinary convicts
not much surprise is commonly expressed
in Russia, but in regard to political of
fenders it is known that the precautions
taken are so rigorous that the evasion oi
any Niliiliat always furnishes matter for
nine days’ wonder. The Governor-Gen
eral of Kiaff, General Tchortkoff, derived
much of the ill-fame with which his
name is invested from an order he issued
some time ago that all prisoners attempt
ing to eacftiH) were to be shot down by
the Sentries, without any effort Iwing
mode to induce them to surreuder.
However, neither this order, nor the sub
stitution of solitary confinement for the
usual mode of caging the Nihilists in
&, has hod any appreciable effect in
isliing the numlier of esoapeß.
Fomin, the Kliarkoff leader, created
some sensation in 1878 by escaping
through a chimney, and the seventy
criminals oonfined in the same room with
liim would doubtless have got clear also
had not the tenth—a very stout man
stuck at the top of the shaft, and so
blocked tho way for the rest. To prevent
a similar occurrence, the Governor of
Hlootsk Prison, in Minsk, placed Tsrentl
Tcherentseff and Ivan Havanlseff in
separate oolls, depriving both of their
bed linen and superfluous clothing for
fear they should try and lower themselves
from their third-story windows to the
ground. The Niliilists, however, had
hardly been in prison a fortnight when
the Governor, ono morning, found to his
chagrin that the birds had flown. Aided
by a pocket-knife they had made a ladder
capable of being taken to pieces from tho
wooden floor of their cells and tho iron
work of their bedsteads, and at night,
having picked tho looks of both rooms,
they had descended to the basement,
emerged through a trap on the court
yard, and, fixing their ladder against the
wall, had olamberodover, and successfully
effected their escape.— London limes.
Newly Married Couples.
It is tho happiest and most virtuous
state of society in which the hnsluuid
and wife set out together, make their
property togothor, and with perfect sym
pathy of soul, graduate all their ex
penses, plans, calculations anil desires
with reference to their present means
and to their future and common in
terest.
Nothing delights man more than to
enter the neat little tenement of the
young people who, within perhaps two
or three years, without any resources
but their own knowledge of industry,
have joined heart and hand, and engaged
to shore together the responsibilities,
duties, interests, trials and pleasures of
of life. The industrious wife is elieer
fully employing her bands in domestic
duties, putting her houso in order or
mending her husband’s clothes, or pre
paring dinner, while perhaps the little
darling sits prattling on the floor or lies
sleeping in the cradle, and everything
seems preparing to welcome the happiest
of husbands and the Istst of fathers when
he shall come home from his toil to en
joy the sweets of his little paradise.
This is true domestic plensure.
Health, contentment, love, abundance
and bright prospects are all here. But
it has liccome a jirevalent sentiment that
a man must acquire his fortune liefore he
marries; that the wife must ha" no sym
pathy nor share with him in the pursuit
of it—in which most of the pleasure
truly consists—and the young married
people must set out with as large and
expensive an establisliment as is becom
ing those who have lieen wedded for
twenty years. This is very unhappy; it
fills the community with bachelors, who
are waiting to make their fortunes, en
dangering virtue, promoting vice; it de
stroys the true economy and design of
the domestic institution, and it promote#
inefficiency among females, who are ex
pecting to be taken up by fortune and
passively sustained with any care or con
cern on their part, and thus many a wife
becomes, as a gentleman once remarked,
not a “helpmate,” but a "helpbeat.”—
Golden Age.
People always sympathize with the
lender dog in the fight, but they bet their
money on the other animal.
FANCIES TOR THE FAIR.
A Chxoaoo girl tried to ran away with
a base-bail catcher. Her father became
a abort-stop.
A milkman at a ball, wearing a pair of
pumps, is too much far the good nature
of society.
Holmes says that tho yean atflnt
pelt the girls with roses, and after a while
with snow-balls.
Not one Amerioaa woman in one hun
dred can walk five miles—unless it be on
a shopping excursion.
Home ja tho dearest plaoe on earth—
whon the wife strives to keep a head of
all her neighbors in style.
Wht is a lady's hair like tho latest
news? Because in the morning we al
ways find it in papers.
The spots on the sun do not begin to
create the disturbance produoed by the
freckles on the daughter.
Oonnemauoh, Po., boasts of a twelve
yeiu old gfrl who is a mother, vot the
girl is „t proud and positively refuses to
lecture.
Two hundrq young ladies in Boston
aro learning to tho violin. They
should appear in theuow opera of “Bow
catchio."
One of the loading exports
to Zanzibar aro “dometie. 'Jhauk
hoavon! but do they tako theit kM^, Rcno
cans with ’em. —New Haven Register,
What is the difference between a sty],
ish young lady’s cranium and a ham*
mock? One is a bunged head and the
other is a hanged bed. (All rights re*
served.)
Ah Foo Woo is a Boston Chinaman.
His name sounds liko the shivering of a
woman whon she gets out of bed on a
winter morning and steps her bare feet
ou the oil-cloth.
The l*rovidonoe Press tolls of a lady
in that city, who, after attentively ex
amining a bust in a window, eagerly in
quired: “And who was this Terra Cott*
anyway?
At a recent Philadelphia pienio, when
it was discovered that tho croquet arches
hail lieou forgotten, a wicked girl sug
gested supplying their places with the
two bow-legged young men present.
A dride of a month wont to a married
lady of a quarter of a year and said': “My
thirling says that women ore fools."
"Nevermind,’’said the other, “heisonly
studying uouns. Wait until he reaches
adjectives. ”
When a Boston girl’s soul reaches out
into the infinite after an idea aud grasps
it, she realizes how base and ignoble is
the conventionality that obliges a being
thus endowed to wrestle with a paper
bustle.
.About this time expect to sec her walk
into tho parlor to say: “Av ye plaza,
mum, I thought I'd be going down totha
baohe to the hotel, an’ mu cousin's gone
already, mum, and I'll lie going to
morrow.”
Kentucky girls average one hundred
anil twenty-six pounds, —Boston Post.
Avery comfortublo lap full. —New
Haven lteylster. See here, young fol
low, the thermometer is fooling around
the eighties.
Judoino from back nppeoranoes:
Hmoll boy (rushing in front of young
lady wearmg rather large poke bonnet,
and staring her full in tho fax-.e) —■
“You’ve lost yer bet, Charlie; I told yer
it warn’t an old woman."
“ When I goes a-shopping,” said an
old lady, “I oilers asks for what I wants,
and if they have it, and it is suitahlo,
and I feel inclined to buy it, and it is
oheup, and can’t lie got for leas, I most
allura take it, without clupporing all day
about it like some people do.”
A demure, diminutive girl, aged
eighteen, is under arrest in Philadelphia
for bigamy. Hhe kas three Uviug hus
bands, all of whom she has married within
two years. When asked why she hail
done this, she said: “ They were all
good follows, and they coaxed mo to.”
A Boston young lady, who has trained
her Hootch terrier to come into the par
lor at ten o’clock on Huhday evenings
and bark at her gentlemon friends, has
lieen reported to the police for keeping
an unlicensed dog, and the dog-catcher
is looking for the animal.
The marriage of Mile. Collette Dumas,
the daughter of the novelist, is oertainly
a romantic ono. Her father took her to
a fancy ball, her costume being in the
quaint fasliion of the Directory. Her
future bridegroom was so doeply im
§ reused at first sight upon that occasion
rat the next day he demanded hsr hand
from her family.
Married Again Without Knowing It.
A man in Toledo, with a wife and three
children, became enamoured of an inter
esting woman and procured a divorce in
an obscure Indiana town. He did not sav
a word about it at home. One (lay hisold
est daughter received a parcel of patterns
from a lady in Indianapolis. It was an old
copy of a country newspaper. An ad
vertisement attracted her attention. It
was an application for a divorce for her
father from her mother. The young
lady docided to visit her friend in In
dianapolis, and to make an excursion ta
the county where the divorce had been
granted, Hhe returned with ample evi
dence that her mother was living with a
divirced man. Hhe showed her father s
copy of the advertisement, and told him
that she bad found out all about him.
Ha walked the floor for a minute, and
then turned to his daughter: “I have
been a very bad and guilty man,” h
said; “ but it is not too into to mnk
amends. I will go to her and confess all,
and undo what I have done.” “ Confesi
first to me,” said the girl. “It is Miss
who is the woman in the case, is il
not?” “It is.” “ I thought as much."
“Are you to marry her?” “I was to
have married her.” “ You must not gc
to mamma yet. She must be your wife
again before she knows the fearful
truth. ” The young lady was equal ♦
the emergency. The twentieth anniver
sary of her parents’ marriage was dost
at hand. She invited all their friends
and had them married again by th
same minister who performed the cere
mony twenty years before. She took
pains to have her mother’s rival present,
and remarked to her in a corner: “Papr
and mamma ore married again as
fast as law can do it. Whether the
truth is ever known depends upon you.
Papa will never tell it, I am sure, and
for mamma’s sake I never shall. But il
does seem to me, dear, that some other
climate would suit your constitution bet
than this. ”
The inference that the telephone
would probably work beet when the
membrane is slanted toward the source
of sound, has been drawn from the fact
that the drum of the human ear is in
clined at a considerable angle to the xi
of the outer ear passage. Nature men
tions an instance in which this notion
was justified by actual experiment on the
part of a gentleman who found “that
liis telephone worked beat when he spoko
to it in a slanting direction. ”
Geological explorations have shown
the probability that Russia oontains
beds of phosphate of lime of sufficient
extent to snpply Europe for en indefinite
period.