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THE DA Y OF REST.
Holy and beautiful ! The very bird
That jKmra his wealth of music on the ear
1 fieemn, to our ohastoued hearts, by worship
stirred.
To pay his tribute to the season dear.
fhe breezes pass us by with loitering wing
And less distinct the insects’ joyful hum;
Fainter the voices of the .gurgling spring,
And all proclaims the welcome rest hath
come.
The flowers hang droopiugly on pliant stem,
The pale, thin clouds float down the azure
sea
With gentlest motion; and the heart, like
them.
Fain would go forth, sinless, and calm, and
free!
All things without do utter “ holy time,”
And all within the soul gives answering
cheer;
Tin burden of all grief, and care, and crime
Is vailed from sight, it casts no shadow
here.
Into the deep recesses of the mind,
0 holy peace, descend and long abide 1
Till a perpetual Sabbath there enshrined
Sheds guiding rays across life's obbing
tide! — Boston Transcript .
A MONK EXCELLENT WAV.
“Here you young rascal! djeep that
lone was stern enonglijJJtfciiforee
onc.lienoe of itself, Imt thespeaHttidded
emphasis by seizing the by
the collar ami giving him a tSjlraagli
slinking. It was a small boy, tJNtn and
starved-looking, with many patches on
hi ■ poor clothing and not*'a few rags
that fluttered as In* swung in the grasp
of the strong, w ell-dressed youth who
li : t him. Hut bis grimv lingers never
1 sed their hold of the disputed object,
and his only care seemed to be to keep
it from injury. ITis blazed with
passion as he screamed: iwL
“Imt go of me, Kick rohtosm. It’s
o business of yours, and tfqjfcu make
me break it I’ll kill you,fin* it some time
■ce if 1 don’t. Let gl r%.”
ft was an odd contest, and the boys
gathered round, full of interest, to see
what would happen, though, of course,
they know that the little fellow could
not hold out long.
“(live it to him, Kick !” shouted out
inine, “shako thtvdirly little beggar out
of his boots.”
“Stick to it, Toby,” cried others, to
ho p up “the fun;" “flndm’s is liavin's,
if you ean only keep 'em.”
“Bovs! Boys! What is all this dis
turbance?” inQiiired Miss Lawrence, the
teacher, hurrying to the scene. “Haven’t
J forbidden fighting times enough.”
“Yes, ma’am,” answered Mnrkbnm,
“but this isn't a real fight. Toby Briggs
stole Kay Burgess's toy balloon, and 1
was trying to make him give it up, but
in* won’t, and so you see 1 cannot take it
nwav without breaking it."
“Careful, careful," said the teacher,
gently; “stole is an ugly word. Do not
say it unless you are sure.”
“Well, f am sure, Miss Lawrence, for
1 saw him myself. He watched where
Kay laid it when some of the boys called
him to play tag, and wont and got it and
was making off as fast sever he could
.wffj'n I caught him. ” —u
“Charles,” said Mi.-s Lawrence, grave
ly -she never called him by that hate
ful nickname, Toby—“l thought you
were growing to be one of my best boys,
and now you pay me in this way for
trusting you. You cannot be my friend
if you do such things. Now make it as
near right as you can. Go and give ltay
lris balloon at once.”
The child’s eye liad been fixed upon
tiers as though he dreaded each word as
it fell, while his face grew whiter and
more set, As she ceased a stony defi
ance settled over it. He moved not one
step.
“iQtttflM,” she said, after a long pause
of wonder at the stubbornness of this boy,
who had lately obeyed her every word,
and perplexity as to the best course ih
case lie continued obstinate, “are you
not going to obey me?”
"No ma’am,” replied the boy, slowly.
“I didftlf AFe/ it, and I won’t give it up
to him—not if you kill me.”
Miss Lawrence was astounded, though
no sign of the fact appeared.
“Very well,” she remarked, quietly,
looking at her watch, “we have no more
time to spend with this affair now. Go
into the school-room, all of you, and
take your peats. I will attend to it after
the need have no rec
itations. He can take liis time to
think."
The sunbeams stole in through the
school-room window, marking, as they
moved from desk to desk, the passage
of tho hours. Pleasant summer hours
they wen*. Bees hummed through them,
birds sang, and sleepy windleto swung in
leafy branches, but two hearts in that
room were too heavy to heed.
Charles Driggs sat stolid and deter
mined, watching tho door furtively, and
calculating his chances of escape, for to
this plan his “thinking” had evidently
brought him. But too many eyes were
upon him, and, spite of the teacher’s
efforts to prevent, many fingers were
pointed at him and many cruel little
tongues whispered “Thief !”
Ah ! what a wild beast instinct it is
that so common one, to hunt the sus
pected or unfortunate, either of human
or dumb creatures, the very ones that
should rouse the Christ-like yearning to
shelter them.
Miss Lawrence watched anxiously.
She felt that there was something unac
countable in the boy’s sudden stubborn
ness and in the value he seemed to set
upon a simple toy. She had found him,
at her entrance into the school, idle,
willful, and disorderly, as neglected
children so often are, but he had been
easily won and had tried earnestly
and constantly to improve. This out
break was puzzling, discouraging, like
so many of the cases teachers have to
deal with. Sometimes they find the
Jtey mystery; opener it is entirely
€ljc (Diyette.
VOL X
out of their roach, and they liavo to
blunder along blindly, doing whnt cir
cumstances compel, feeling that, after
all, it is uot the right way, though the
only one possible to them.
What a weary afternoon; would it
never end ? At last the siuilight slipped
off’the threshold. The pupils soon fol
lowed it. For a moment slit* slackened her
watch, while the larger ones, being in
spelling-class with their backs to the
door, could not see. In that moment
Charles slid round. He was almost gone
—not quite, though.
Miss Lawrence turned just in time to
seize him and throw him, kicking and
struggling, into the nearest seat. She
was thoroughly angry at his persistent
wickedness, and flung the boy down
with the feeling (hat lie was entitled to
no further consideration from her.
“Sit there !” she exclaimed, “and we
will have you fastened like any other
thief.”
Cruel w ords they were—regretted as
soon as spoken bat Hu* boy
seem to hear them. His eyes were fixed
with a glare of terror upon the balloon;
which was slowly shrinking away,
pierced by some pin-point, As it shriv
eled ttj) into an unsightly rag he flung
himself, with a despairing scream, upon
the floor beside it, and lay there moan
ing and grieving like a dog beside some
article once worn by its dead master.
As for Miss Lawrence, she was rather
glad of this unlooked-for escape from her
difficulty.
“Ray," she said, “I will get you a
new balloon, since tiiis one was destroyed
partly through my fault. The school
is dismissed. Charles will remain.”
The boy sat quiet, unheeding the jeers
or the contemptuous glances of tho
others as they passed out, and staring
blankly straight ahead of him, like one
who had just soeu a last liopo go out.
The teacher watched liis face, so stony,
so unchildlike, long after the last young
footstep had pattered out of hearing. At
last she said:
“ Charles, I did not suppose you cared
ko much for playthings that yon would
take those which did not belong to you.”
“ I don’t,” answered the boy, dogged
ly. “ Why don’t ye let me go now ?
There aint nothin’ to stay for. You’ve
smashed it, and that’s the very worst
thing ye could do to me.”
“ Y’ou may go presently; but why do
you speak so tome? 1 did not keep
you here for a punishment. You forget
that I have the toy to pay for, unless
you can help me.”
“ Well, I can’t then,” he, rejoined,
desperately. “ I haven’t got a penny in
the world. If I had had or could a
earned one do you think I’d a touched
his old balloon !”
“But why should you, any way?”
urged Miss Lawrence. “It wasn’t any
thing you needed.”
“ Wasn’t it?” lie cried, furiously. “ i
never needed anything so much in all
my life, and if there’s another to be
prigged in this town to-niglit I’m the fel
low that does it, and you may help your
self. ”
“Why Charles!” exclaimed the as
tonished lady; “are you crazy ? Whnt.
is the matter? Tell me all about it,”
sin* added, coaxingly, almost terrified bv
the strange conduct of the boy.
“ What’s the use?” lie muttered, with
a sullen, suspicious glance. “You
couldn’t help, and if you could, you
wouldn’t. Nobody cares for poor folks
like us. What if we do get sick and
die? It’s nomatter. And as for feelin’s,
who ever thought of our havin’ any ?
Feelin’s is for folks that dress in silks
and satins off o’ the money they cheat
us out of. ”
“Charles,” observed Miss Lawrence,
gently, “I am sure I don’t know what
makes you talk so strangely, but I am
very sorry for you, and if you will tell
me what all this means I will help you,
if 1 ean. Isn’t that fair?”
“Yes, ma’am,” replied the boy, slowly,
after a long, wistful gaze into the trou
bled and gentle eyes of the teacher; “I’ll
tell ye, though there’s nothin’ you can
do, as I know on. You see, my little
brother Len lias been sick a longtime
uid gettin’ thinner and thinner, till lie’s
ie.st an poor and pale as a ghost. It’s
mostly the poor food he has and the hard
times, the Doctor said, and ho finally
told mother tliero wasn’t no use of his
cornin’ any longer; so he don’t, and poor
little Len has got so weak he can’t sit
up any more, but just has to lie still all
day long, with nothin’ to pass tho time
away or make the time any easier, only
when some of ns hold him up to the
window a few minutes at a time. He
can’t bear it long, but it seems to please
him. Well, the other day, as I was
doft’ so, a boy came along with one of
them things, an’ it took the poor little
fellow’s eye, so it seemed he must have
one But mother told him she couldn’t
get it, ’cause she hadn’t a bit of money,
and then he didn’t say another word, but
just turned his poor head over on the
pillow, when he thought nobody was
lookin’, and cried all to himself.
“I’ve been tryin’ ever since to get
somethin’ to do, so I could buy him one,
but nobody would give me any work.
He was so bad this mornin’, mother
said she was afraid he wouldn’t last but
a day or two. He’s out of his mind a
good deal, and then he talks mostly
about the pretty red moon, and says he
is going to climb up into the sky and get
it. I thought maybe he’d die easier to
have it, and when I saw Bay Burgess
with one in liis baud I made up my
SUMMERVILLE, GEORGIA. WEDNESDAY EVENING, AUGUST 1.1883.
iniiiul to get it if I could. It wasn’t
real, downright stealing for mo to take it
from him; really it wasn’t, Miss Law
rence. Only just taking a little of what
belongs to us—for father spends ’most
every cent he earns at Mr. Burgess’s
drink shop, though mother has begged
Mr. Burgess on her knees not to sell to
him. We’d bo comfortable and decent
as anybody if we could only have fath
er’s wages; but they all go to help build
Mr. Burgess’s grand house, and put fine
clothes on liis wife and buy nice tilings
for his children, when our poor Lon
can’t have one little plaything, and he
a-dying of slow starvation. That’s what
mother says it is.”
And the boy broke down with a sob at
thought of liis pet brother’s wrongs.
Mias Lawrence had not the heart to
argue with him. She was poor herself,
but no this had over crossed
her path.
“You may go, now, Charles, she
said; “but let the balloon rest, for to
night, and don’t give up; your brother
may not be so ill as you think.”
He departed, a little comforted.
The teacher wont straight to the one
toy-shop of the village and purchased its
last remaining toy balloon. Then a
new sign, “Theodore Gray, M.D.,”
scarcely noticed before, arrested her at
tention, and soon she was on her way to
the house of want, accompanied by t
young physician who was not too well
established and successful to attend the
poor.
Little Len lay oil liis bed of suffering
-liis thin, drawn face so white that lie
looked already dead, and one felt almost
startled to see the blue eyes micloso.
Charles sat gazing at him in despair.
A fruitless fight against want and mis
sy showed everywhere.
While the Doctor examined his pa
tient, Miss Lawrence sought tho heart
broken mother.
" Wo have come to help you, if yon
will let us,” she said, simply.
So the two—poor themselves- —set to
work to relieve those so much poorer
and more unhappy.
Little Leu’s sunken eyes brightened
at sight of the rod balloon, and after a
supper of warm broth he fell asleep
with liis hand on the string and tho
bright globe nestled against liis wan
check.
No; ho did not die.
Richard Markham hoard tho story
next day and went to see him. To liis
credit be it said, he was not ashamed to
take Charlie by the hand, and say:
“Forgive me, lad. I was more to blame
than you. I ought to have found out all
about it before trying to make a public
example of you, when I had never
known you to do anything like that
before.”
“ I don’t blame you,” replied the other.
•* ft was the first time, and it sluill be
the last. But, of course, there are plenty
win) won’t believe me.”
For a while all Richard’s spondiug
nioney went to the Driggs family, (fillers
too, in time joined to help them, so that,
though always poor and struggling as
how could they he otherwise '> -they did
not again reach such a depth of want.
The father did not reform, for the dram
shop still stood open and liis earnings
dropped mostly into its till. Bnt work
was furnished his family-—so they man
aged to live.
Miss Lawrence has never ceased to
practice tho “ more excellent, way,” and
many lips call down blessings upon her.
She does not teach the village school
now, but a lady sometimes stands at u
window over the new sigu—now no longer
new —wlio looks much like her.
I think you will find, too, that the
Doctor is soon to take a student who
signs himself Charles Driggs .—Arthur's
Magazine.
Postage Stamps Ruling Firm.
For seven years he had been a clerk
in the ioe business, but only a week or
so ago be was appointed a clerk in the
post office. One day he was stationed at
the stamp window. He sold tliree-cent
stamps for fifteen cents each or four for
j.nlf a dollar. One-cont stamps he told
thiii people were hard to get at any price,
and ruled firm at seven cents, with a ris
ing tendency. Postal cards were held
at ten cents, and stamped three-cent en
velopes were three for a quarter, Ko
cif-ty raised a howl when he charged a
commission of ten per cent, for register
ing a letter, and charged exchange, dis
count, and commission on money orders.
When the postmaster returned, there
was a scene. The young man listened
to reproach and explanations. He ex
amined the schedule of prices very care
fully, resigned immediately, and went
back to the ice business. “That
postoffice,” he told his father, “won’t
last six weeks. You never saw such a
cut-throat business. They’ve no more
idea of a fair profit than they have of
the North Pole. Why, it would ruin the
government if all the offices sold stamps
for nothing, as they do here.” And In
made up his mind that he would write
to the President and toll hirn how shame
fully the merchandise of the government
was being cut away down below Novem
ber prices right in the beginning of hot
weather
An old lady in Kalamazoo, Mich., ol>
jected to the setting of a telegraph pole
ju her premises, saying she wasn’t going
to have that thing there to telegraph
everything she said all over town,
A BRAVE ACT.
(INK 1I AN ACTS Wllll,l. OTHERS ONI.Y
HY HPATIIIZK,
How a Kim a wav 11 or ho was Slopped nml a
Lillie lilrl'n Lire Saved.
[From tho Now York Times.]
Wliilo the Boulevard from Macomb’s
Dam bridge road to the Park was
crowded with all kinds of pleasure
equipages, recently, great excitement
was produced in the vicinity of One
Hundred and Fortieth street by a frantic
cry of “Clear the track 1 A runaway!
Drive on tho side-walks I” A man in a
light road wagon was driving liis horse
toward the Park on a run and screaming
this warning to the drivers in the street,
Behind him, iti the middle of the broad
thoroughfare, a powerful roan horse wiih
dashing madly down the street, drawing
a top buggy, which swayed from side to
side, while a little girl of 13 years clung
desperately to tho lines, with white face
and streaming hair. Everybody gave tho
runaway vehicle a wide berth. Men in
light wagons whipped their horses fran
tically upon tho sidewalk, coachmen
drove their carriages hurriedly to tho
side of the road, ladies and gentlemen on
horseback galloped wildly to tho fences,
and although sympathetic women in
their carriages screamed and men
turned pale, no ono made the slightess
effort to assist the child, who without
looking to tho right or left, was scream
ing: “Oh, won’t somebody save mo!
Oh, somebody stop him ! What shall I
do 1 Oil, what shall Ido 1”
A quiet-looking man in a clerical
frock coat, who was meditatively driving
a large “ buckskin” horse before a light,
road wagon toward the city, hoard the
warning cry of the man who was trying
to clear the road, and looked around just
as tho roaq, horse, on a frantic run, was
passing One Hundred and Thirty-ninth
street, and all the vehicles were crowd
ing to the left-hand side of the road.
• The quiet man, without a moment's
hesitation, put liis horse, which was a
fast one, to his speed, and drove swiftly
beside the runaway steed.
“Don’t be afraid !” ho called coolly to
the child, wlio clung to the lines like a
little heroine. “Now, do just as I toll
yon ! Hang on to the lines, and pull
most on the left, and when I toll you to
jump, do it. Will you mind what 1
say ?”
“Yes,” answered the little girl; “but
save me, oh, save mo, if you can 1”
The quiet man gave the buckskin
horse a cut with his whip, and the ani
mal broke into a gallop and brought tho
seat of lito master's wagon even with the
runaway horse’s head. Then the man
quickly wound his lines about bis right
hand and with the loft seized tho runa
way horse’s bridle. Tho frantic beast
plunged aiul jerked liis head away, al
most dragging the man from his seat,
and dasln and on, the man losing his hat.
and whip. But he at once drove along
side tho horse’s head again, and again
seized the bridle, which was again torn
away from him. He drove up again and
made a third attempt, and met a like
failure. “Don’t give up,” he called out
to the child, who was losing courage ami
crying; “justhangon to the lines.” Then,
in very vigorous language, he exhorted
some of tho horsemen whom they were
flying past to come to his assistance, but
not one responded. Tlio two animals, in
this time had run down to One Hundred
and Twenty-eighth street, and between
One Hundred and Twenty-fifth and One
Hundred and Twenty-sixth streets lies a
heap of stones, mortar, and bricks,
where a building is in process of con
struction, and toward this jagged pile
the quiet man, who was still driving and
encouraging tho girl, saw that tho runa
way horse was headed, and knew that
he must make a final effort to stop the
animal at once. He drove up beside
the head of the beast again, seized the
bridle, dropped his lines, and, calling to
liis own horse to stop, lie sprang to lhc
ground, dragging tho runaway liorso’s
head with him, and after a sharp strug
gle brought the brute to a standstill and
took the child, who was almost, fainting
from the buggy.
The little girl said that her father
who had been driving with her, had
been run over at One Hundred and
Thirty-sixth street, and that the horse
had run from there, a distance of more
than a mile. The quiet man drove back
to look for the father, and met him driv
ing down in a grocery wagon to look foi
his child, whom he expected to find
dead or dying in the road. He was not
badly hurt. He said that ho stopped in
tho road to check up his horse and gave
liis little girl the reins. Some other
horses came up behind and startled the
animal, and it bolted. Ho clung to its
head and was dragged a block, when tho
beast got away and the wheel of the
buggy went over his log. The quiet
man drove them both home, but declined
absolutely to say wlio he was.
Tub dirtiest man that you will en
counter is the one that leaves a box of
soap at your house for a few days, “Is
it real good ?” asked a lady of one of
these soap venders; and then, looking at
him, she added, > effectively, “ But, ol
ooil's-*, you wouldn’t know anything
about it.”
Is there in this country any law
against marrying a deceased wife’s sis
ter?—Stranger. No; none is needed.
When the average man marries a second
time he usually prefers to change hid
mother-in law, RliUaUelp/da Rews.
WIT AND WISDOM.
Tub very iikst thing for you to do is
to do the very host thing you know how.
This is a hard rule to follow, but a safe
ono.
It is the eaisest thing in tho world for
a father to give liis daughter a clieok for
•if 10,000 on her wedding day; but it is the
hardest tiling in tho world for the bride
or any other person to get it cashed.
Thu remains of a man, with his hand
in the pocket of tho remains of another
man, have just been discovered in the
rains of Pompeii. He is believed to have
been a pickpocket.
A man who named liis horse “Drum
mer” in hope that he would beat time,
was soon taught tho error of liis ways hv
another who named liis horse “Tramp"
so ns to place him in a position to beat
anything he came in sight of.
“You ought, to see iny new dog,” said
Ato B. “He’s one of tin* best Gordon
setters I oversaw. ’ “I’ve got a scttei
that will lay over him,” rejoined B.
“Bet you a V you haven’t” “Taken,"
said B. Tho bet is still undecided be
cause I! trotted out a lion.
“What is that with an Apron?"
"That, my sou, is a Woman.” “What
is she trying to 1)o ?” “.She is trying to
drive Ten pullets and a Gentleman Hen
out of the Garden.” "Will she doit?’
“No, my son, but she will spoil the Gar
den,”-—Burlington b'ri ‘ Press.
The Czar of Russia once met by acci
dent Colonel (Lietsiii in a state of in
ebriety. "Look here, sir,” said the
Czar, “wliat would you do if you met a
Colonel of the Guard in tho condition in
which I find you ?” The Colonel drew
himself up, gave the military salute, and
replied with great gravity, “I would not
condescend to say a word to the brute."
liis wit saved him his commission.
A Lvov whose husband had been elect
ed to Congress and who was much dis
turbed by the stories she had read of tin
malarious atmosphere of the capital
asked ono of his constituents if lie
thought, it was safe for her husband t<
live in Washington. “Hate?” he re
joined, "well, I should say so. It’s
about tho only place in the country
where a man can steal with positively
no risk of being sent to State Prison for
it.”
Inquiheb— You wish to set Mr. Suaggs
and his next-door neighbor to fighting.
Easy enough. Some dark night just
take a load of ashes and old oyster cans
and dump them in Snaggs’s back yard.
He'll lay it to his neighbor and Hling ’em
over tho fence. The neighbor’ll he mad
der than a candidate for office beaten by
ono vote, and will sling’em back. Then
things will hum; lawsuits, pulled noses
and bloody heads will be tho result and
you can sit back and see the fun.—ltos
lon Post.
A FATHER’S LONG VIGIL.
WalcliliKi Over I lit* ftoil.v of liis Uinigli*
lor for Nonrly Live illoiitli*.
A few days ago the remains of Miss
Annie Brewer were interred in a marble
sarcophagus constructed in the yard ad
joining her father’s house in East Har
tford, Connecticut. The circumstances of
this case are sad and peculiar. Miss
Brewer wns the lfl-year-old daughter of
Edward Brewer, a leading citizen. She
was tho idol of her father, whoso wlmlo
life seemed to be wrapped up in her. A
week or two before Christmas she was
taken sick, and, after a short illness,
died. On her deathbed she. expressed a
horror of being put into the ground, and
her father promised that she should not
lie. In spite cf tho entreaties and per
suasions of the friends and relatives, he
declined to allow the remains to be taken
from the house. The corpse was dressed
for the grave and was enclosed in a hand
some coffin, which was placed in tho
parlor. Every day an undertaker visited
the house, and did what was necessary
to preserve the remains. The unhappy
father refused to be comforted, lie sat
by the coffin all day long, and it was
with great difficulty that ho could bo
persuaded to snatch evori a few moments
for his meals. In the early evening ho
retired to bod, but at about midnight
arose again, dressed himself, and re
turned to his vigil. lie addressed to tin*
inanimate form words of endearing affec
tion, kissed tho marble lips, and passed
liis hand across the brow. When day
light came he returned to liis bed for u
few hours, and then rose to go through
the same programme. Day and night
from the time of her death until about
tho middle of April, these strange actions
were kept up. At about that time Mr.
Brewer’s health broke down, and he
agreed to tlio removal of tlio remains tc
a vault to bo constructed on bis own pre
mises and easily accessible, so that he
might still hold communion with his
child. It is in this vault, just com
pleted, that the girl's long linburiod re
mains wero placed. Tho ceremonies
were simple and private.
The Witnesses. —It is decided that oi
the independent witnesses who gave evi
dence against the Inviueibles in Dublin,
Alice Carroll will receive $2,500 and
Emma Jones, Huseley, and Meagles
$1,500, and all be sent out of the coun
try. Alice promised tho Invincibles not
to swear against Brady and Kelly if they
would give her $250, but as they did not
do so she offered her services to the
crown.
ISO 38.
A FATHER’S WANDERINGS.
NTOHV OF A MAN AVIIO AI'FKARM AK
TKH AN AHSKNCH OK *1 IVKNTV
FIVIt VKAItN.
A Nli.rv llull Would bo Worked up Into n
Two Vol Novel - Artcr Twenty.
five Yenr.
The story of John Henuso, who turned
up in Reading, Pa., a few days ago aftei
an absence of twenty-five years, is in
many respects remarkable. When he
disappeared Homme had a wife and sever
al children, the youngest, of whom,
Mary, then three month* of age, is now
married. Mrs. Henuso heard nothing
of her husband until soon after the late
war begun, when slio received a letter
announcing that ho had been conscripted
into the reliel army. Nothing more was
heard from him and he was mourned as
dead.
On Tuesday a bronzed and woather
beaten man of sixty-five years registered
at tho Berks County House. He wore
long hair that fell upon his shoulders In
curls and liis ears were adorned with
gold rings. It was the samo John who
hod disappeared a quarter of a century
ago, seized with a longing to once more
see his wife and children. Ho learned
that they were still living. Tho moot
ing between the long-separated couple
was not a gushing ono. There wore no
tears of joy and no clinging in fond em
brace, but nevertheless the prodigal
husband was cordially greeted when he
had established his identity.
Then he visited liis youngest daugh
ter, Mrs. Rolland, That lady waß en
gaged at her household duties when she
was suddenly confronted by a strange
man.
“Your name is Mary,” said he break
ing a short silence aDd advancing a step
or t wo.
“Yes, that is my name,” answered
Mrs. Rolland, eying her strange visitor
suspiciously. “What cim Ido for you ?”
“lam your father, Mary, who left you
when you were a babe three months old.
Am I quite forgotten ?”
And tears came to tlio old man’s eyes
as he leaned against tho counter and
gazed at his daughter. Mrs. Holland's
first impulse was to summon assistance,
for she feared tlio man was demented,
but ho stopped her and soon convinced
her that his story was true, and then re
lated to her his past life.
To a correspondent of the Times Hen
use told his story. He said when he
loft Reading ho went to Virginia. Here,
when the war broke out, he was forced
into tho rebel army, and when on the
march to Gettysburg he escaped, but
was recaptured and placed on board a
war'**oßß6l. Ho again escaiied, and then
made his way westward, only to be cap
tured by hostile Indians. For a time he
was kept a close prisoner, but eventually
ho adopted tlieir habits and mode of life,
and was looked upon as a member of the
tribe. Ho lived with his red brethren
fifteen years, and during that time
learned several dialects. Then came a
yearning for the home of his youth. He
bade his savage friends farewell, went to
France, and after a brief sojourn there
returned to America by way of Cuba.
“ Then I camo to Reading,” sorrowfully
concluded the aged adventurer, “ and
I will leave again as quietly ns I camo.
tho city is strange to me, the people are
all strange, and even my own family do
not seem to recognize me. I will leave
for the South; T have friends there.”
And lie kept his word, for he left as sud
denly as he came, not even bidding his
wife and children farewell.
Gambling in the Army.
Tho Washington Republican says:—
Said an old army correspondent re
garding the revolutions of gambling
among army officers at Washington: “ It
is not to be wondered at that idle army
officers should gamble when it is a fact
that the vice was a common one during
tho most, active campaigns of tho late
war. I have seen men spend the even
ing between two days of a battle in
playing cards for stakes. It wasn’t ex
actly gambling under fire, but it was the
next thing to it. There wns hardly an
officer’s mess, regimental or staff, that
was not a poker club, and thousands of
dollars changed hands after each visit of
the paymaster. Freeze-out poker, the
winner to maintain tho mess until the
next pay-day, was a common form of
gambling among tho oflicors. Many of
the private soldiers were lively gamblers,
and hardly a company was without its
‘poker sharp’—-usually a cool, quiet,
1 goody-goody’ sort of chap from omo
country district. Early in tho war pro
fessional gamblers haunted every depot
of supplies and pressed upon commis
sioners, quartermasters, and paymasters.
One or two paymasters lost fabulous
mms to these sharks; then defaulted,
were sent to prison, and the gamblers
Rod to Canada until the storm was over.
The vice is as common and as fashionable
in the army among officers and privates
as it ever was—the only difference is that
the army is not quite as large as it was. ”
Tins is the Urn * of year at which the
luxurious young man takes his girl out
in a village cart in the country, and as
he points with the whip at an orchard
full of blossoming trees, and they are
both looking at it with their hearts full
of poetry, tho horse flies across a bridge,
and the cart suddenly jumps into a rut
full of water, bounces about two yards in
the air, and tills their eyes and ears with
mud,— Puck,
Flagrant Outrages on u Citizen.
The Providenco, R, 1., Journal gives
a detailed amount, of malicious persecu
tions to which Mr. William A. Wooden,
a farmer of Cumberland, has been siilh
jeoted of late years. Twelve years ago
his two largo barns wore burned, with
oattle and horses. In 1882 his born and
other outbuildings woro again burned,
involving a loss of $2,100, on which
there was only SOOO insurances 1 11 clear
ing away for the new barn which is now
being oreoted there was found among tho
debris, in the centre of the oellar, a bot
tle containing dynamite. Boon after the
barn wns burned several of the fences
about tlio land worn torn down and
thrown into the road, and iiko disgrace
ful actions aro kept up until this day.
Recently outrageous actions have been
committed at tho family iomh on Ills
farm. Tho door has been taken from
its hinges and thrown into the middle of
the road, and tho gate has been torn off
and placed by tho roadside. On tho
slabs are caricatures of di graceful ob
jects, and many lines of vulgarity writ
ten with red lead. In the tombs are the
liodios of Mr. Wooden's father-in-law,
sister-in-law and his two children. At
the commencement of the season ho
found in his lots which lie, intended to
mow first, that in several places were
large pieces of iron, umbrella wires,
largo stonos and- other missiles stuck
into the ground, so that the knife of the
mowing machine would come in contact
with them. He discovered this by ono
of Ills hired men going through the field.
Not long ago ho was plowing, and at
night left his plow in the field. Upon
returning tho next morning the plow
wns nowhere to ho found. Finally it
was discovered in a swamp near the field,
with both handles and the share broken,
which made it unfit for use. About tho
first of last month Mr. Wooden went to
his well on tho night before which tho
dood was done, and found tho bucket as
usual, all right. The next morning tho
work girl went to tho well, which Jins
two 1 moke to; and on letting one down
for tho other to come up noticed a change
in the oolor of tho water. Bhe brought
it up, and upon making an examination
found the bucket to be filled with fresh
cow manure. Tho water has been unfit,
to drink or to use since this was done,
although it lias been cleaned out. Fre
quently in the morning he lias found tins
front of his house bedaubed with filth
and tho fences around tho house tom
down nud mutilated. Only last Sunday
evening the bars at ono place on his
farm wero falcon out and thrown into
the road. Mr. Wooden says he knows
of no reason for thus ill-treating him,
except, perhaps, political animosity or
personal grievance, of which lie is una
aware. It would seem that the State
ought to take some means to protect a
citizen in his rights, if the town is una
ble to do so.
A Human Pageant.
Tho tournament in the Villa Borghese
at Rome in honor of the marriage of the
Duke of Genoa was an interesting spec
tacle. It will be remembered that the
Piazza di Heena, which was planned for
pageants of this kind, and where many
have been given since the days of Pi ■]x >
PaulV., lias exactly the outline of an
ancient Roman circus. The seals which
hail boeu erected along tho sides and
semi-circular ends were filled with about
thirteen thousand spectators. In the
royal pavilion, on the middle of one side,
hung with crimson velvet and decorated
with flowers, were tho King and Queen,
the bride and bridegroom, the Duke (if
Aosta and Prince Amulph of Bavaria,
with their respective suites. On their
right was a pavilion for tho foreign am
bassadors and envoys, and on their left
others for their families and for the
Cabinet Ministers. Tho cavaliers, all
young Italian nobles and cavalry officers,
divided into four squadrons of thirty
four riders each, two representing Bava
rians and two Italians, were mounted on
richly caparisoned thoroughbred horses
and wore liaiulsomo sixteenth century
costumes of gay colors, with plumed hats.
They rode into the lists preceded by tho
herald, Prince Odosoalclii, trumpeters
and standard bearers, and were led by
the young Prince of Naples, who ac
quitted himself gallantly. The sports
were of the various kinds practiced at
such pageants—since tilting wont out
with the use of armor—the Turk’s head
the hunt of the rose, and the like. Tl;,
men rode well, and the evolutions, es
pecially those at a liaml gallop and over
hurdles, were admirably executed, anil
elicited loud hursts of applause. So gay
a spectacle has not been witnessed in
Rome for many years.
The Candle Parade.— Speaking of
the fireworks at tho opening of the East
River Bridge, a war veteran said: “Dur
ing tho spring of ’GS candle rations were
issued to tho army of tho Potomac. The
men had no use for them, and they ac
cumulated. One night a single com
pany, each man carrying a lighted candle
started in procession through the camp.
Regiments, battalions, and brigades
caught the infection, anti 50,000 candles
glimmered and danced in every direc
tion, winding like a fiery serpent over
the hillocks, and stretching out in a sea
of flaming dots as far as tho eye could
reach. The bridge illumination was
very line for its kind, but for beauty and
novel effect I think the candle procession
ought to handle the snuffers. Many veter
ans of the Army of the Potomac will re
member the candle parade.”
A VERY SAD SIGHT WAS PRESENTED On
Union square, the great theatrical cen
tre in New I’ork a few days ago. One
of the best known actors in tho country,
a man of culture, refinement and intelli
gence, was indulging in what the “boys”
euphoniously term a “tear,” and took
great pains to show himself in a very
Borry condition, He has lost a good en
gagement and won the commiseration
and sympathy of his friends, however
ill deserved they may bo. It is not
#1 range that strong drink should be so
much stronger than a strong man.