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J MIGHT HA VK HONE.
1b there a sadder word than this,
“X might have done ?”
X might have filled life's cup of bliss,
At least for one !
*‘I might have done!" So simple joy—
Love's word or wile—
Robe life of half its sad alloy.
Slakes life a smile,
“X might have done !" While young life strewed
Her prescient seeds,
Each folded germ, with life endued,
To bloom in deeds.
•O love-fraught hours sail mutely on;
Die odg by one;
Tis life to sigh, when all are gone;
“I might have done
Siddy’s Advice.
WHEN rr WAS QJ-VEN.
You could not find -n more notable
woman m the fisherrr^n’s quarter of onr
pretty seaside town, than the wife of Joel
Sims. He migh^ wor }t hard in his boat,
but he spent B' a h is honlB on shore in
u 8 «My jTS. Sim 8 ft jont or sleeping, idle. whereas
' ^ was never
Xhe > JUr f a t little children who called
n ? r r nother were as rosy and healthy as
'jonld P.nty of tubbing and wholesome food
make them; and spiders avoided
fcfee queerly-bnilt tenement on the cliff
•’Sima’ *ide, that might be known as Siddy
stone by the door whiteness the of the rough
• at the and redness of the
> poia ot Mowers that ruled the windows.
Yet, with all her occupations at home,
• Siddy was sure in the to be one morning, of the first on
tb? beach early when
the boats came in; first to help sort the
fish; first to take her place in the mar¬
ket, where her bright smiling face and
who, civility when attracted business many a customer. And
was over there,
her tramped away more undauntedly with
the basket, doors to sell her whiting and soles
at of the smart villas on the
outskirts of tho town? coming home
creels; not nnfrequently if help to mend nets or make
and in a siok-room were
needed, to take her tnm at sitting up as
'readily as if it were a pleasure instead of
m toil.
“Siddy was the best of hers, after
the rough fashion that thinks love may
be as truly expressed by a slap or shake
as a caress; but it is doubtful whether
her children were nearer her heart than
a younger brother of Joel’s, who occu¬
pied her spare bed-room, and had called
her mother ever since she nursed him
through That a dangerous illness.
Ned 8ims had recovered at all
had been due—so said everybody—to
her untiring care; and now that he had
developed into a great, broad-chested,
handsome young fellow, half afoot taller
(than Joel, and endowed with three times
ihis industry and energy, Siddy was
) rather apt to take all the credit to her¬
self, and to be proud of him accordingly.
1 She very often planned his future as
•rihe sat making his new shirts or mend
;ibig iheayriri, his jacket. He was savings no drinker, thank
and so his were mount¬
s' br,' np, and he would soon be able to buy
Aiifonseli a share in one of the boats.
■jAnd then he must marry. “It would be
more ' ipectable-like to have a wife than
to be sauntering about with first one lass
and then another,”
Yet it gave her a smart shock when,
mstead of “keeping company” with
some girl “to tho manor boro,” some
Isherman’s Edward, daughter like herself, she
met flushed with pride and
'happiness, ii/ukiijg by the dressed side of one of the best
and best of theohamber
iinaids at the huge hotel lately erected at
fche top ©I the cliff.
It was Sunday morning, and Siddy,
•coming out of the tiny fishermen’s church
with her baby in her arms, stopped short
and frowned disapproval. Yet it would
be hard to say what fault could be found
with the pretty little creature who lis¬
tened to the young fisherman.
“Take my advice,” said Siddy the fol¬
lowing day, “and break with her. She
is too fine"a lady for you.”
“She don’t think so,” Ned retorted.
“She didn’t show no airs nor graces, did
she, when she walked home with you
'from the church, but praised nice your cold
pie, and talked to Joel as as nice?
And didn’t you see how the children
took to her ?”
“An’ ’kep me in a fidget to my fingers’
•ends that they’d spoil her fine clothes.
If she’s going to walk with yon. Edward,
don’t yon let her wear no more of them
fal-ials; it’s waste o’ money I”
“I don’t believe her brown gown,”
was the angry retort, “cost more than
that shawl of your’n, Siddy; and it’s not
half as flaring.” this shaft Ned made his
After hurling Siddy would find
escape, for he knew not
it easy to forgive a slighting remark oil
the huge patterned plaid which she had
hitherto worn in happy ignorance of its
ngliness
Bnt ere long she had forgiven the
speeoii, and the cause of it, welooming
pretty Liz whenever she could find time
to visit the fishermen’s quarters.
The season had not commenced yet,
and the huge, half-empty hotel was se
inexpressibly dreary that Liz preferred
Slddy’a homely kitchen, even though
it was inconveniently crowded when the
children came in from play; Joel’s bnriy
frame filled up the end nearest the fire,
and Ned took a boyish delight in get¬
ting in the way of the busy wife and
mother.
Not that Liz was always a grateful re¬
cipient of her lover’s attentions. She
had her fits of willfulness, sometimes
evincing an irritability that would lead
to a quarrel. Then Ned would stalk out
of the house, refusing to hear the re¬
morseful voice that entreated his return;
and Liz either fled in another direction,
or when advised to keep her tongue
within her teeth in future, retorted with
the reproach that it was Siddy’s fault;
she was always making mischief between
them.
“If it ain’t enough to cut a body to
the heart to be told that!” exclaimed
the discomfited Siddy. “Don’t you
□ever marry her, Eddard.”
“I don’t suppose she’ll let me,” re
plied Ned, with a heavy sigh. The
varying moods of the girl were perplex¬
ing him sorely. It was not like her to
be so petulant. Had he loved her too
well?
His gloomy air fretted the woman who
loved him with a mother’s love, till at
last she cried—
“Ha’ done with it, lad 1 You’d better
take the shillin’ and be a soldier than
make yourself miserabte for a chit of a
girl that ain’t worth it.”
“Think so?" was all the response he
made, but he lounged away, aDd was
not forthcoming when Joel, his supper
eaten, went off to the beach.
An hour afterward Siddy was watch
ing tbe fishing fleet glide away found to
ward the setting snn, when she
Liz by her side, ghastly with agita
hon.
“Where’s Ned?” The girl’s lips
formed the question more than uttered
it.
“He’s down town ’stead of where he
ought to be !” and Siddy indicated the
[•oats. “That’s yonr doing I”
Hamilton Journal.
VOL. XII. NO. 28 .
“No, no; I've been down the High
street,” moaned Liz, clutching at her
friend for support; “he’s not there. He
was seen at the railway station with file
recruiting sergeant. He's away with
him; he’s taken the shilling and gone for
a soldier 1”
“And it was m.v advioe that done it 1”
As she spoke ’Siddy dropped and for on few the
rough bench in the porch, a
minutes she was too giddy to know what
else unhappy Liz was saying.
THE RESULT.
Siddy shut her door against the well
meaning neighbors who would have con¬
doled with her, and all the next, day she
sought by working harder than ever to
forget the violence driven of the the reproaches
with irhich oho had v- eepiug
Liz from het presence.
Ned a soldier 1 sent abroad not to
wrestle with the elements—that was
man’s work—but to be out and hacked
by savages 1 And her eyes would turn
against their will to a wretched daub
upon the cottage wall—a picture of a
battle with the Zulus, in which half a
dozen hideous savages were hewing
down a young Englishman, who to her
excited fancy looked like Ned.
When the children had been put to
bed this horrid picture kept her com¬
pany, till, unable to bear it any longer,
she tore it down and thrust it into th<
fire.
“Siddy 1” It was Liz who had stolen
upon her, and with extended hands was
beseeching her forbearance.
“Oh ! bid me good-by kindly,”
moaned the girl, “for I am going away.”
“What’s that ior ?” asked Siddy,
harshly, I
“I was ill after went back to my
place last night, and they sent for a
doctor, and—and—I haven’t felt well ever
since I slipped off the ladder when we
were cleaning the paint.”
“Go on,” said Siddy, of beginning to
divine the reason these fits of irrita¬
bility that had often surprised her.
“The doctor says I have strained the
mnscles of my side, and must have a
long rest, and so I am no use here and
must make room for some one else.”
“And you've no friends in Loudon.
I’ve heard you say so. Where’ll you
go?” letter
“The doctor has given me a for
a hospital. Oh, Siddy ! say a kind word
to lighten my troubles, for they seem
more than I can bear !”
The strong arms of Siddy were thrown
around her, and Ihere was silenee, till,
ashamed of her own emotion, the elder
woman began making up the fire and
putting “I on the stay,” kettle. cried Liz. “I shall
cannot
lose the train, and they will not keep
mo at the hotel another night.”
“We’ll not ask them Yen’ll bide
here. You’ll have Ned's room, and I’m
going to nurse you well again. ”
So Liz, her heart heavy, her limbs
aching, submitted to be put to bed, and
there wept herBelf into resignation.
When Ned wrote—oh ! surely he would
write, and tell them where he was !—
she could let him know how penitent
Bhe was; and though miequal to hard
work, she was clever with her needle,
and could find plenty who would be will¬
ing to employ her.
Joel was away longer than usual, and
at the end of the week he came homo
sulky. To lose good chances as he had
done all throngh being shortrhanded
had exasperated him, and he growled Ned and at
his wife, abused the missing
looked so black at the guest that she
was fain to keep out of his way.
Siddv had much to cope with while
bis ill humor lasted, but she bore with it
os the richly-deserved punishment of
her hasty advice.
In other respects the world went
smoothly. The doctor called on Liz
and predicted her Bpeedy recovery. that
But nothing wonld lift the load
lay on Biddy’s heart, and as she went
home down the cliff side with her empty
basket she felt weak aDd spiritless, for
the sight of Lizzie’s pale face and the
sound of the heavy sighs the girl
Yireathed as she sat in the old armchair
with her sewing were continual re¬
proaches to her hostess.
Mechanically the sorrowing land-locked woman
looked toward the pretty
bay lying below the rocky ledge on
wkioh she was resting. The smack ot
old Aaron Jones, who had sailed away
far beyond where the other fishermen
cast their nets, had jnst come to an
anchor, and, borne shoreward lioatwiih by the
flowing tide, came tbe smack’s
the first installment of finny treasures. sight of
One of the rowers, catching
Siddy, greeted her with a lusty cheer.
She recognized him in a moment. It
was Ned ! The report of his having en¬
listed was a false one, invented by a
half-tipsy idler. He had sailed in the
Wonder, because in treaty with the
owner for a share in his ventures, and
the opportunity of talking over and
clenching the bargain was too good to
be missed.
How Siddy laughed and cried in her
joy no one ever knew. Sh
sight till the lovers had n:
reconciled and her firet w
were a reproach for not wi]
deaner. said b
“If yon two’ll be
told the young couple, “you’ll, And tl
ried as soon as yon can.
last bit of advice I ever means to g.
But whether Siddy will keep thic
solve remains to be seen.— Can?
Magazine.
The Advantage
If you are poor, there is one consola
tion. Yonr heirs will not go into court
prove that von were an imbecile dur
ID g your childhood, and an idiot gibtiering at the Inna- time
0 f yonr marriage, a died. For there
ti c for years before you
are people m this world for whose exist
enee (jod has some all-sofficient reason
that is wisely hidden from mankind, who
j ns t love to rush into the court-room
and the newspapers to prove such things
a bout their rich fathers. They can’t al
wa y e prove them, bnt they try their
best. And yet there are some people
who think there is no world better or
more perfect than this one.
_____________
1
Thb wise man avenges injuries by
benefits.
HAMILTON, GEORGIA. THURSDAY, JULY 17, 188L
BAD BOOKS OF THE DAY.
TAI.MAOB HAM SOMETH INIS TO MAY
ABOUT THEM.
And Also About Their Evil Influence Upon
the Minds of the People.
In tho Brooklyn Tabernacle Dr. Tal
aaage Sunday morning spoke of inde¬
cent literattire. His text was from
Eoolesiastes:—“Of making books there
- n & n
, &T _ „ . „„„„„
so somauj many yearn j'r 1 ” A “•■ D A book ! It took
centuries to make it. ™ Thank , rirw* God for (a,
books. The printing press is the
mightiest power for good or evil. Take
the one fact that from the daily press of
New York there goes forth 450,000
copies a day. How far it reaches, tho
influence of the American printing press.
I have an idea that it is to be the chief
agency for the evangelization of the
world and that the last great battle
is not to be fought with swords, but
with type. A gospelized printing press
crushing out a pernicious literature.
The greatest blessing that has come to
this world since Je-us Christ came is
good journalism, and the worst scourge
Is unclean journalism. Yon must apply
the same law to the book as to the Jlews
paper. Under unclean literature tens of
thousands have gone down. The longest
tram on the Hudson or Erie Railway is
not long enough to gather up the mde
cent boolm and periodicals that have
been published in tho United States for
the last twenty years.
Is there nothing we can do to stop
this evil? The first thing for us to do
is to keep ourselves and our families
aloof from iniquitous books and news
papers. The question is asked. Is it
right to rear! novels ? \\ ell, I have to
say (here are good novels I believe that that make the
heart purer, but three
fourths of the novels of the time are
pernicious and baleful. First stand
aloof from all books that give false pio
tureB of human life. Lifois not all a
tragedy, nor all a farce. He who is a
confirmed novel reader is unfitted for
the duties of life which is a tremendous
discipline where everything great is
achieved by hard, unceasing, persever
ing labor. Also stand aloof from books
which have some good bnt a largo ad
mixture of evil. I flM t care how good
you are yon cannot afford to read a bad
book. Also stand aloof from books
which corrupt the imagination, the
polished literature which arouses all the
bad passions of the soul. Years ago
there came forth a French authoress
under the assumed name of George
Sand. She wrote in a style, ardent,
eloquent, damnable horrible its results. m its Her snggoBtlvoues influence lias j,
in
not yet relaxed, and all the bad books
we have got from Paris within the past
five years have been only Sold copies of that
woman’s iniquity. by Christian
booksellers. Under the nostrils of your
cities there is to-day a fetid, reeking
literature, enough to poison all the form
tains of virtue and smite your sons and
daughters as with the wings of a destroy
ing angel. If the evil goes on there will
be for yonr children funeral of body,
mind and soul—three funerals in sue
day. There is no evil that compares
with it. They victims are going bad down books by the
millions, the of and
newspapers. Accursed are the books
which make impurity decent and crime
honorable and hypocrisy noble. Ye
authors who write them, ye publishers
who print them, ye booksellers who dis
tribute them shall be cut to pieces, if
not by an aroused public sentiment,
then by almighty God, who will sweep
you to the lowest pit of perdition, ye
murderers of sonls! Oh, stand aloof
from such infernal literature.
I must in this connection oall to yonr
mind the iniquitous pictnres of our time.
Onr cities to-day are cursed with evil
pictures. These death warrants are on
every street. Oh, young man, do not
pick np these poisonous adders ! A !
man is never better than the pictures he
loves to look at. there If to-day is 1 shall have
shown you that something for
ns to do to stem the tide of pernicious
literature I shall have done a work I
shall not be ashamed of in that day
which shall try every man’s work. Re
member that one column of good read
ing may save a sonl and one column
of bad re ailing may destroy it. Go
home to-day nnd examine your libraries
and the stand where yonr books and
newspapers are, and if you find anything
there that cannot stand the tost of the
judgment day do not give it to others;
that would despoil them. Do not sell it;
that wonld tie getting the kitchen price of hearth blood.
But kindle a fire on yonr
or in yonr back yard, put the poison in, i !
atid keep stirring the blaze until every- !
thing has gone to ashes from preface to
appendix*
The
famous >
grains of g._>.
inestimable tread sparkling -mi ne,
no t j n narrow fissnros, but a
d()0dj naturally became the resort of
Bp ecnlators by land And sea. Its valiv
WM noised abroad through the ten•
0 { tbe Mediterranean countries, a
possession was the subject of r
bloody struggle. Anciently, ar
j n historic times, the unskilled
0 f (joichis, shepherds through
generations, used to lay a sheepsk
t he bed of a shallow stream, w !
would hardly call a river. r
caught and held the shinier
thick mat; it was then
tree, and, when dried.
precious dnst were sb
you have the whole f
Fleece."
THE WEAK rOIJfT IN STEAMsftlPS.
Any YpiihpI will tf<nk U n Certain One of
her Hulkhrni’ .Viiiienis J'llltt.
Says a well-known correspondent: So
much has been said about tho sinking
by collision of the steamship State of
Florida when she was provided that with
five water-tight what bulkheads, bulkheads an and ex¬
planation of the are
what they will and will not do may Ire
worth the space. A bulkhead is a water¬
tight iron partition built across the hold
of the ship below the main deck. Tho
five bulkheads of the State of Florida
AiXlded tho * h "' iu o 8 « !
compartments. £ f People £ suppose ^ that, if
^ those Me en nnd flj]ed
with water, the ship wi.. still float. This
is true for five of the six compartments,
blit there is not a steamer that sails out
of New York with a cargo on board that
will float when the compartment that
contains the engines and boilers is filled.
Here is a picture of the compartments :
8 r
6 s XNOINES. a l
4 'coni.
A ship floats when loaded because she
wo jg} lg ] e ss than an equal bulk of water,
>pj ie f orwar( j compartment, No. 1, is
very small. The bow of an iron ship is
very sharp, amt so the space is narrow,
car g () stowed there. Tho sixth
compartment, in the stem, is like it. If
e jt}, er were tilled or knocked clear off
t j 10 buoyancy of the ship would be little
affected, because they are so nearly
so[ j d jron tli.at they probably weigh
about as much as an equal bulk of water
would. The forward compartment in
the Nevada wns filled the other day, bnt
it only weighed down tho bows a little,
The second compartment is filled with
cargo which is usually of greater spe
c jp ic gravity than water. The third is
filled with cargo anil half with coal,
qi,e j OHr th contains tho engines and
boilers and some coal. The fifth is full
fl f j K , aV J y cargo. It is plain that if either
the 8eco nd> tllird> or fiIlh compartment
should be opened ship by would a collision little the
buoyancy of the l>e
a ffe c ted, because they are alrendv corn
p] e te]y filled with heavy cargo, and
wo nld admit but little water. The bulk
beads serve only to lessen the possibio
damage to cargo and to keep the water
ou t the compartment which contains
the engines. Tho capacity of this com¬
partment as compared with the others
ma y be shown by figures taken from tho
steamer State of Nebraska. She is 385
feet long, 43 broad, and 34 feet deep,
jj er cnr g 0 capacity is 167,200 .cubio feet,
q’he capacity of the engine and boiler
compartment is 110,720 cubio feet,
With all that air space, which is dimin
jsbed somewhat by the engines and
bolters, iiei main deck, was o tool 10
inches out of water wlion sho sailed out
o{ y orb por t recently. It required
a ll 0 f t ho 110,000 cubic feet of air space
to ] ceep her there. Fill that space with
water and she would go down, as the
state of Florida did, inside of twolvo
minutes. The State of Nebraska is a
new and a strong ship, and she is built
on the most approved style siifo of marine.
architecture. She is as as any pos¬
Benge r ship afloat,
A Fair Girl’s Conquest.
I’HK COURTSHIP OP A YOUNG SCOTCH
I/AIRD WHO PULL IN LOVJS WITH AN
AMERICAN GIRL.
A London „ , letter ... in . ,, the Chicago .
Tribune, says; Ihere has been much
gossip over the recent union of Mihs Jos
hn, of Pittsfield, Mass., with a young
mil wealthy Scotchman. Miss .Toshn is
jne of the cleverest and most admirable
of girls. Her marriage is quite a roman
tic affair. She met her present husband
in Rome, where, subsequent to the
death of her father, her mother anil she
wore spending a few weeks. Miss J.
was not, of course, going out at all, nor
was she receiving calls at the time, so
tbe young Bird, with whom it was a
,ft8e °f l° v<) ft t eight, was in a piti
lble state for days and weeks. City When he
bis inamorata left tbe Eternal
promptly followed, and finally obtained
permission from Mrs. Joslrn to address
her daughter. To make a long story
’hort, everything, on inquiry, proving
more than satisfactory, tho young man
proposed and was accepted. The well¬
duig was set for the next fall sometime,
The parents of the young Jlance came
*oon after to make the acquaintance of
their future daughter, and the result
was the total subjugation of the entire
family by the charming American girl,
Usually it is the prospective groom who
(> ,ea f s ““f 4 «<rongly for a the short engage
!’«* »» tins case expectant
father-in-law was so enchanted with las
’ on f choice that he joined in the for
tner s entreaties for an early wedding, and
m »' lch purpose that three weeks after
m . preHent»*~~ to hw eons/Sr
fr«.
TALKING TO THE HOYS.
AMIIUKT l'ALAVICK ABOUT TIlINriSIN
HKNEKAL.
And More Pnrllonliirly Alinnl Trrnlnirfil of
I’nrtnOi, and Looking Out For ihr Fu
tnro
My son, I heard you “the speak old or man," your
father the other day as highness.”
and of your mother ns “her
Suppose their ways arc old-fashioned,
and thoir grammar a little off, nnd they
don’t feel like keeping up with the
fashions of the day ? Not one father or
mother in ten had the advantages you
enjoy. Forty or fifty years ago they
walked three or four miles to a country
school to pick up a little learning, whilo
now you are talking of going to collego.
They began poor aiid have toiled and
labored nnd saved for their children.
You just remember that things have
greatly changed in this country. Years
ago a calico dress wns seen at church far
oftener than silk. Mon wont to meeting
clad in homespun.
My boy, don’t get any foolish notions
into "your head. benb—If If your father is old
and gray and your mother is
trembling and weak and lias no care for
the frivolties of this day, it is toil which
has brought these, days of hard work
and nights full of anxioty that their
children might be spared the blne-jonns, same slav¬
ish life. Where they wore Where
you have broadcloth. they ate
johnnycako you have sweet enko and
pie. Whore their mode of life atul
forced economy amusements prevented them books, from
enjoying think society, how make the or shillings
just you offered to interest and
fly, and what is
amuse you I
Now lot’s have a word to say about
economy. I’ve been right among you,
and I know that you want this, that anil
the other, and “want it bad. ’’ Up to
the time of the war if one of the boys of
that day had a dime to spend for Fourth
of July, he thought himself well fixed.
The boys want about five dollars apiece
nowadays, and that is all gone before
noon.
If we got a new book it wns considered
a great piece of extravagance. The lad
who had cash enough to walk into a
panoramic exhibition, buy a pair of
skates, or treat himself to sweet-meats
was looked upon by the rest of ns as a
Jay Gould.
I’m not saying that you shouldn’t
have money and uso it, but right there
is a vital point. Be sure that you really
need what you buy. Ask wheels yourself which if it
will pay? Money is the on
the world moves. Acquire tho habit, of
tlirowiug it after every novelty brought
out and you’ll by nnd by have ft second
ham! mriseiim ami no’cash to run it.
I dislike a stingy boy, but when I sc*
a lull planking his nickels down at tbe
desk of a savings bank I know that he is
one of the future men who is going to
build our railroads and do our wholesale
business. There’s a big difference be¬
tween being stingy fttul being economi¬
cal. The richest men of America are
liberal in giving to churches, they asylums
and to tho unfortunate, but never
waste. They don’t indulge in this or
that simply Itocauso they have money
enough to pay for it.
Now, if yon are about 15 years old
you’ve got a sneaking idea into yonr
bond that it’s a hig tiling to use an oath
occasionally. You never made a greater
mistake 1 It is true many men use more
or less oaths, bnt 1 would like to have
you find mo one who isn’t ashamed of it I
It’s a mean habit, for it is n habit. I
know you can point to the greatest
men in the land nnd prove that they
spit out oaths, bnt that’s no reason why
yon sbonlil follow suit. There isn’t a
swearer in this country who doesn’t feel
a quiet satisfagtion in sitting down to
converse with a man whoso langnago is
clean and pnre. There's nothing manly
in using an oath. Swonring is about the
first thing yon hear from the lips of a
fool or drunkard. Even a heathen can
swear. I
Now, don’t get the idea that want
yon to bo too good. The too good hoy
is a nuisance. He was born to be an
angel, but they forgot to spike on the
wings. I want my bov to rub against
everyday life a little while he is a boy.
If he has the idea that a hunter’s life is
full of juicy buffalo steaks and victories
over grizzlies I’m going to send him in¬
to the woods for a week to live on wood¬
chuck meat, carry a cold in liis head
and be jumped out of his boots the first
time an owl hoots. If ho asks for money
I’m going to give it to him, but I want
to sit down of a Saturday night and seo of
how he spent it, anil show up some
Ill's foolish bargains. If he wants to sail
the bounding billow I know of a hike
captain who will take him on atrip from
Detroit to Saginaw, and if he can’t
him in jnst one voyage nobody else .
' and tali
- broth'
* P
$1.00 A YEAR.
A SLEEPLESS NIGHT.
Experience ot n Wnkelnl Man Tryln* to
4’onnt Himself fo .Sleep.
One night when I had retired at my
usual hour, about 10 o’clock, thinking
sleep was ready to go to bed too, I found
I was laboring under a mistake. Sleep
wanted to remain up a while longer. My
thoughts got to wandering, and I
thought it really got to be time that I
wns asleep. But sleep eluded mo. I
was taking too lively an interest in the
mining industry. You can't lay hold of
sleep bodily, a's you would seizo hold of
a pump handle. I would lie on my right
side a while, then on mv left, nnd didn’t
feel good on either. I felt tired—had
boon working too hard in tho mines. Then
I would draw up my knees, next coil like
a dog. Still sleep did not take pity on
me nnd go to roost on my weary eyelids.
The clock struok 12, and I heard the
chickens crow. I was glad to know they
wore awake; that there was something
beside myself that couldn’t sleep.
Counting myself to sleop occurred to mo.
I began.
When tho clock struck 1 I had 9,000
counted. That didn’t seem to be much,
and 1 wondered if I couldn’t do better
than that in the next hour. I sot out in
tho direction of 2 o’clock, counting and a I
little faster. The clock struck 2,
had 10,000 I had got together from 1 to 2,
making 19,000 in all. I now began to
think of how many I could count by 8
o’clock, if I got down to business. I
turned loose. As 8 struck I had 12,000,
lacking about an inch, which I traversed
beforo tho sound of the strokes died
away. gotting warmed to work
I was up my
and wanted to wake np a fellow in the
next room and bet him I could got
75,000 by daybreak or fio’olock. I didn’t
awake him I though; threw ho was of the a stranger, blankets
and large. off one
and spoil away to 4 o’clock. As 4 was
tolled off I had so close to 18,000 that I
claimed it. It was allowed to mo by the
referee, I could feei my heart heat with
excitement as I threw off another blanket
and Started for the next station. When
the clock began to striko 5 I wanted a
fow hundred of having 14,000, but by a
spurt—counting 100 to each stroke of the
clock—14,000 was reached, making
58,000 ieft so far. There was only an hour
to count 17,<MX), to make the 75,000
that I was struggling for. But my blood
wns np and 1 would try it.
As 1 swung away on tho final heat, I
threw off from the bed the final blanket
and unbuttoned tho collar of my night¬
shirt. I wns perspiring freely. stretoh, 1 oamo
thundering in on the homo
straining evory nerve to make 75,000.
As the clock struck 6 and the rosy dawn
p»ap«d in at my window I lacked a hun¬
dred or two of tho 17,000, but I skipped
up to it on the last stroke. It was no
embezzlement; nobody was paying I me
for counting, and the counting was
doing didn’t belong to anybody.
I arose from my couch to begin the
duties of tho day. 1 didn’t feel rested;
felt more like I had been trying to head
off a runaway eaif. Counting may do for
a thin sort of pastime; it is cheaper
than billiards, bnt as an excitement to
arouso sleep I can’t recommend it .—flan
Franciscan.
All that He Wanted.
An interesting scene was noticed on
one of onr most fashionable residence
itrects the other morning, says the Bos¬
ton Journal. A gontloman coming down
town to business saw under a lnmp-post
a man whose duty it is to clean tho glass
Around the gas-lights, and who, while
engaged in his work, hail broken a light
md out his hand terribly in three
1 daces. The man was white anil faint
roni loss of blood, which he had no
means at hand to stanch.
“Hullo 1” snid the gentleman ; “that's
a bad out. Just let me look at it.”
“No,” said the sufferer, “you’ll only
get yourself mind,” all bloody." said the other—who,
“Never doctor—and
tiy the way, was not a
whipped a ease out of his pocket, from
which ho took a large roll of court plas¬
ter and pair of scissors. Then he made
the man hoiil out his arm and roll up his
ileeve, and wiped away the blood and
jut out strips of court-plaster and laid
diem on, while ol»crved a rapidly-gathering tlje
srowd admiringly consumed at least twenty opera¬
tion. The job gentlema” reUpd
minutes, and the up
again and '
his case prepare
“What can I do to r
roar kiwlnenfl ?” bM the
“Keep the Htroet-lamp
douse a !i“
4or
t
THE GRANT YOUNGSTERS
WHAT TUB WESTERN BAD BOY HAS
TO SAY ABOUT THEM.
As Good as Other Roys In Their Way* Bnt
They Trnsted Too Much on Borrowed
Capital*
“Oh, the Grant boys are like lots of
other Milwaukee boys all bad oyer the country,” Grant said is
the boy, “and
like many fathers of less business sagac¬
ity, Grant is a good man to sit around
and draw a pension, and wait for another
war. He is entitled to live like a king,
and have all his expenses paid his by mili¬ the
government he perpetuated by
tary genins, but he is not equal to run¬ be
ning a peanut stand. There should
a law prohibiting him from trying to go
into business, and no one should be al¬
lowed to kauoodle him into the use of
his name to catch suckers. Grant made
tho mistake that nearly all fathers make,
lu thinking his sons are smarter than
other boys. Because Grant was a suc¬
cessful soldier, it was no evidenoe that
his boys were alx»ve the average. They
were ordinary boys, had an ordinary ed¬
ucation, and would have stood as good
a chance as most boys in running a gro¬
cery, reporting on a daily and paper, or of
braking on a freight train, in any failed,
these positions they might have successful,
and they might have been
and come to tho front. But because
their father was a good soldier, the boys
thought they could run a business that
would paralyze the ablest financier in
this country, and the poor old father
was induced to believe his boys were
made of better material than other boys,
and ho lent his name to their.wildcat,
foolish enterprises, and they at owned ^ince
owned tho earth. Some one else
the earth under thorn, but they owned
it on top, and they got the big head, and
competed with millionaires who had
more money than they oould possibly
spend, and for a year or two you have
read moro about tho stylo the Grants
were putting on than yon have of the
Astors and Vanderbilts. While tho lat¬
ter were spending money that had al¬
ready been earned, and laid np, tho
Grant boys were discounting the future
and spending money borrowed on the
strength of the name of their pa. Now
that it is over, anybody can see what
fools they wore, and what a weak old
father Grant was, and they will drop
down to their level, and if thoy ever
amount to any thing again, it will bo from
wlmt they earn, unless they are weak
enough to help spend tire money that a
grateful people contributed to their
father, and I should think they would
Iks about equal to that emergenoy. It
is a clear case of big head on the part
of the whole family, and nobody is sorry
for any of them except pa and ma. It
is not entirely the common boys like mo
that make trouble for parents. You
would think that tho sons of great men,
statesmen, soldiers and scholars, would
he jHsrfeot models for ns boys to go by,
but I read that such drunkards, boys are spendthrifts more apt
to bo swindlers,
and dudes than ordinary boys. And
great men, from the president down,
have many heartaches, and pass many
sleeploss "nights, thinking bring of sons the who
are doing their best to gray
hairs of their parents in sorrow to the
gravo. I toll yon parents that only have
a few jokes player! on them, are in luck.
If Grant’s boys had initiated their pa
into a Masonry, and given the goat de¬
gree, as me and my chum did my pa,
Grant would have picked himself up
and felt a good deal better than he does
to be initiated into the ‘One Tlionsaiul
And Ouo,’ whore the first degree is
•pottit larceny,’ the second degree ob¬
taining money on falso pretences, and
tho third degree highway robbery.”
The Secret Correspondence,
I board a lady remark, a fow days
Ago, that she always the opened directed the letters
which came to house to her
husband. Now, I should judge that man
to bo one of the kind who follows tho
straight path free from entangling appli¬
ances, wlio lias no occasion to fear an
ins]iection of ilia mail. That is the sort
of a man one cannot help admiring.
One feels a real pleasure to know suoh a
man in this world of general onssednesu.
When I heard that lady I instinctively
felt what a jewel she hail—not at all
like some young fellows—and old ones,
too—-that I oonld montion. I felt that
he was a man who had followed the olose
lines which I many years ago laid out
for myself aud have religiously adhered
to. No letters ever come to mo which
tho wife of my bnzzum—had I one—
oonld not examine, and I have found
such a course to bring wonderful peace
of mind. I know men who have special
arrangements made with the distributors
nt tho post-office to place all letters
bearing their names, no matter how ad¬
dressed, in « box whioh they j>ay so
much a year for. I am told that there
are men who iiavo tho correspondence
business down to snob a science that let¬
ters addressed to them in fictitious
names reach them without trouble. It
is said there is an especial place in the
post-office known as the “demi-monde
row,” whore letters are held until called
for—a private mark on tho envelope
showing the” sra T]. '*■ ''‘Mild go
to the b“'
- gr-