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LADIES’ COLUMN.
Tiny Turtles as Pets.
I must not forgot to tell Chicagoladies
of the latest caprice in the wny of pets,
writes a New York correspondent. Os
course you have gone through the mania
for dogs of various kinds, from the pug
to the sheared French poodle, the most
ridiculous and clever pet dog of them
all, and doubtless you have had your
fling at tortoise shells and monkeys. It
remains for Mrs. Van Rensselaer Cruger,
one of the leaders in society and one of
the most fashionable women of the elite,
to set the gossips by the ears
by the adoption of a pct is,
in plain Eng ish. nothing more nor less
Mian a tiny mud turtle.
This is an actual fact, and, moreover,
the turtle has been christened “Ni
chettc,” and is dressed every day in lit
tle silk frocks and lace fichus. Like Miss
Marion Langdon it affects pink, and is
usually attired in couleur de rose. The
proper thing to do nowadays, if one
wishes to ingratiate one’s self in Mrs.
Cruger’s favor, is to leave a card always
for Nichette as well as her mistress. Mrs.
Cruger has furthermore astonished so
ciety by appearing at the opera once or
twice with her newly adopted plaything.
Nichette also attended the Patriarchs’
ball, and, I believe, is to go out generally
next season at. Newport.
A Chinese <Url'« *»pccch.
Miss Hu King Eng, a young Chinese
girl, made a rather unique speech at a
recent meeting of the Ladies’ Foreign
Mission society, in Cincinnati. Here is
an almost verbatim report of it:
"Ladies -I came to America last May.
Don’t learn much English and hope ex
cuse breaking their language. Last Sep
tember came to Delaware (Ohio) school
(Wesleyan university) and learn a few
words. In America arc many girls and
boys going to school, very much study
ing books, but in my China I can’t find
one school for girls. Plenty schools for
boys,so that boys may learn many things.
Their mothers think boys study books
hope some day make officers. Girls,
their mothers think, study no use. In
my China so many girls not like here.
Hero girls can go down street and buy
many pretty things by themselves,
but in my China always stay at
home. Mothers teach their children to
pray idols; here, in America, boys and
girls pray one God. In my China are
many idols, some very tall, some very
little, some very not pretty: some made
of silver, gold, stone, but many kinds.
They think idols can help them, so pray
to idols all time. If I want this,
J pray this one: if 1 want that, I pray
that one. This one (exhibiting a small
image) is called a God of .Mercy, in my
China. Mothers teach their children to
pray to this idol until sixteen years old;
then pray to others.
"In my China they don’t know they
have no spirit in this idol. I taught
little school for little girls in my China
and talked to them about Jesus. After
a while I wanted to study medicine, so I
came to Delaware college. 1 know God
will help me. I can do without God
nothing. I ho;>e you all pray for me. so
I may learn right fast, and then I go
back to my China, to my dark land.”—
Cincinnati Enquirer.
Fashion Xorcs.
Shirt-drapery is much higher than last
season, and a decided tendency to full
paniers is shown.
Jetted laces will still be worn on
black summer wraps, and beading of all
kinds is as popular as ever.
Fancy bonnets are made of tinsel and
novelty fabrics of various kinds over
frames of wires and lace net.
Pongee dress suits are elegantly em
broider'd in silk of a color to match the
goods or in a oretty contrasting shade.
New silk jer-i ys are beautifully beaded
with jet in various designs, and some
times in patterns covering the whole
garment.
Some of the new cashmere gloves have
the long wrists embroidered in chain
stitch on the closed tops with silk of a
pale shade.
A dainty little lace pin is a spray of
fine leaves and a stem of diamonds, the
flowers being tiny forge: me note in
frosted gold.
Colored silk linings are placed in bro
cade wraps and as they are visible in
the wide sleeves, add a pretty and be
coming touch of bright color.
Esenrial lace, a net with jet pendants
scattered over the design, is one of the'
leading fabrics for combining with black
or colored silk dresses or satin.
For very light dresses for summer
evenings the nun’s railings have the
bayadere stripes of white or silver or
gilt, to be made up with plain white
vailing.
At all times kindness is better than
11-nature and courtesy is a nobler thing
than disrespect. Nothing can be much
more foolish than to go out of our way
to make enemies for -the mere sake of
making them, when a very little pa
tience, forbearance and self-restraint
would have given us instead a helper, a
friend, a panegyrist and a backer.
Nothing is easier than fault-finding.
No talent, no self denial, no brains, no
character is required to set up in the
grumbling business. But those who are
moved by a genuine desire to do good
and benefit their fellows have little time
x for murmuring or complaint.
At the end of 1884 there are 285,000
miles of railway in the world, which
would make a line from the earth to the
moon, with 35,000 miles to spare.
CBlje (LSijctte.
VOL. XII.
Love Better than Fame.
‘l*ll win a name,” .the warrior cried,
“To crown the maiden of my heart!
Her eyes will flash with loyal pride
When forth upon my quest I start.”
The lady watched, with undimmed ey<\
The soldier ride upon his way,
Nor sobbinq moan nor tender sigh
Enticed his stay.
And yet she pined from hour to hour.
“Twas love, not fame, I craved,” she said.
“Ho little knows love’s mystic power.”
And lower still sho drooped her head,
she days and months sped swiftly past;
'Die warrior’s brow was wreathed with fame.
And homo be rodo. "'Tis mine at hist—
An honored name.”
He met her in her father’s hall,
And knelt to kiss her slender hand.
"Lol at thy feet I iay them all
Love, honor, fame!” She hade him stand.
“Thy love was all I craved,” she said.
"With that my heart was all content!”
And ou his breast she laid her head,
Her sorrow spent.
—Ethel May.
BERTHINE’S RUSE.
There was scarcely a sound in the
forest as the snow fell upon the trees,
a fine snow that made their branches
appear as if covered with an icy moss.
Before the door of a house a young
woman was chopping wood. She was
tall, and, though slender, was strong.
She was a child of the forest.
A voice was heard coming from the
house:—“Berthine, you should come in
soon, for there are Prussians and
wolves roaming about.”
Berthine replied, as she split a block
of wood with a powerful stroke, “1
have finished, mother. lam coming.
lam coming. It is still light,”
Then she carried in the wood, went
out again to fasten the oaken doors of
the shed, and again entered the house,
fastening the large bolts of the door.
Her mother, an old woman whom
age had rendered timorous, sat near
the lire spinning.
“I like it not," she said, "when the
father is away. Here we are, two de
fenceless women.”
“Ah!” replied her daughter, as she
glanced toward a large revolver sus
pended over the fireplace, "I can easily
kill a wolf or a Prussian—it is all the
sune.”
Berthfne’s husband had joined the
army at the beginning of the Prussian
invasion, and she lived with her moth
er and father, the old forester, Nicho
las Pichon, who had obstinately refused
to quit his woodland dwelling for the
town.
The nearest town was Rethel, an an
cient stronghold perched upon a rock.
The inhabitants were patriots and had
decided to resist the invaders. They
had procured cannons and muskets
and equipped a militia. The soldiers
were drilled daily by M. Lavigne, the
haberdasher, who was an ex-officer of
dragoons.
Tims they awaited the arrival of the
Prussians, but the Prussians did not
appear. They were not far off, how
ever, for twice already their scouts
had pushed through the wood as far
as the house of Nicholas Pichon, which
was the outpost in the forest of Ave
line. Twice each week Pichon went
to town for provisions and informed
the citizens of whatever had occurred
in his neighborhood. He had gone to
town this very morning to announce
that two days before a small detach
ment of German infantry had halted
at his place for about two hours and
then departed. The officer who com
manded them spoke French.
That, evening, when Berthine was
about to put the pot on the fire to
make the soup, two violent knocks
were heard at the door. As the
women made no reply a loud, guttural
voice s id, “Open the door!" Then,
after a brief silence, the same voice
continued, "Open the door or we will
break it in.”
Berthine took down the revolver
from above the fireplace and slipped it
into her pocket. Then she said, “Who
are you ?”
The same voice replied, “The detach
ment of soldiers who were here the
other day.”
“What do you want?” said the
young woman.
“We have been lost in the wood
since morning. Open the door or we
will break it in!”
B rthine had no choice. She quick
ly drew the large bolts, and opening
the door saw before her six men—
six Prussian soldiers, the same who
had stopped there two days before.
“Why do you come here at this
hour?" she said in a resolute tone.
“We are lost,” replied the officer.
“We recognized your house. We have
had nothing to eat since morning.”
“Come in,” said Berthine, as she
stood aside to let them pass.
They entered tl.e bouse. They were
covered with snow and appeared to be
completely exhausted.
The young woman pointed to the
wooden benches at either side of the
large table, saying. “Sit down. I will
make soun for you.”
SUMMERVILLE, GEORGIA, WEDNESDAY EVENING. JULY 15,1885.
When the soup was prepared tho
Prussians ate voraciously. As they
were thirsty, Berthine descended into
the cellar to draw cider for them. She
remained there a long time. The cel
lar was a little vaulted cave, which, it
was said, had served during the revo
lution both as a prison and a hiding
place. It was reached by a narrow
winding stairway, to which access was
gained through a trap in the centre of
the kitchen.
When Berthine reappeared she wore
a cunning smile. She gave the jug of
cider to the Prussians.
When the soldiers had finished eat
ing they lay down to sleep about the
table. They stretched themselves ou
the floor with their feet toward the
fire, their heads supported by their
cloaks rolled up for pillows, and soon
they were snoring in six different tones.
They had slept soma time, when
suddenly firing was heard without,and
so plainly that it seemed to be directed
against the walls of the house, The
soldiers rose at once. Two more re
’ ports were heard, followed presently
’ by three others.
1 ; Berthine appeared. She was appa
rently frightened. Iler feet were bare,
* sho wore a short skirt and carried a
1 candle in her hand.
’ j “Tho French are coming!” sho ex-1
claimed. “There are at least two hun-
1 dred of them. If they find you here
1 they will burn the house. Go into the
1 cellar quickly and make no noise If
you make a sound we are lost.
The officer, thoroughly frightened,
1 ’ said in a low tone, “Wo will; we will.
How shall we descend ?”
The young woman quickly opened
the trap door and tho six men disap-
1 peered, one after another, down the
* little winding stair.
When the point of the last helmet
1 had disappeared Berthine lowered the
1 heavy oaken plank, thick asa wall and
hard as steel, which was held in place
by hinges and a lock, and, turning the
key in the lock, began to laugh. It was
( a low, hysterical laugh. Then she
suddenly evinced an irresistible desire
dancj over tho heads of her prison
’ ers.
| Soon, however, she heard murmur
ings under her feet. The prisoners
s had divined the ruse, and presently
1 ■ the officer mounted the little stair and
began to pound the trap door with his
’ ! fist. Again he cried, “Open the door!”
1 .
: “What do you want?” she asked.
3 I “Open the door.”
“I will not.”
' I The man became angry, and ex
' claimed, “Open the door, or I will
1 break it in.”
Then she began to laugh, saying,
3 “Break it, my good man; break it,”
’ j and he began to knock with the butt
3 i end of his musket against the door of
f °
: oak closed above his head, but it re
sisted the force of his blows.
3 The young woman went to the outer
door of the house, and, opening it,
looked out into the night and listened.
3 A distant sound fell upon her ear.
Then she cried with all her might:—
1 “Ho, father!”
“Ho, Berthine!” a voice replied.
i i 1
Presently the large shadow o a man
appeared where the moonlight fell be
tween two trees.
“I have the Prussians in the cellar,”
said the young woman.
“Prussians in the cellar? What
Prussians? How did they come there?”
Berthinesaid, laughing:—“They are
those who were here the other day.
They were lost in the forest, and I am
keeping them cool in '■« cellar.”
’ ! Then she related the adventure, how
’ ■ she had frightened them with the re
port of the revolver, and had fastened
1 them in the cellar.
' : “Well, what would you have me do
at this hour?” asked the old man.
“Go and fetch M. Lavigne and his
troops. He will make them prisoners,
and will be glad to do it.”
“Yes, he will be glad,” said Father
' Pichon, with a smile, as he departed.
For a long time Berthine remained
: alone, with her eyes fixed on the ;
3 clock. From time to time the Prus-'
sians were heard battering away at
‘ the trap door with their muskets. At i
length, thinking it time for the troops ,
to arrive. Berthine opened the doorj
1 and listened. Soon she saw shadows i
moving in the forest. They were the
shadows of M. Lavigne’s men. There 1
were 200 of them, and each carried 200 I
i cartridges.
M. Lavigne arranged his troops so (
as to surround the house. Then he j
entered the dwelling and informed I
himself of the force and position of the
enemy.
M. Lavigne stamped on the trap
door, calling to the Prussian officer.
: The latter made no reply. Again M.
Lavigne called, but in vain. After a [
* lapse of twenty minutes he summoned ;
i the officer to surrender, promisingthat i
the lives of himself and his men should
' be spared and that they should receive
i good treatment. There was no sign
I of capitulation. Then the cm mand
ant arranged his plan of attack.
“Let Planchut rnd his men come I
here,” he said. Planchut, who. was a
zinc worker, and two of his assistants
approached.
“Tear down tho gutters and the j
waterspout from the roof.”
In a quarter of an hour fully fifty
feet of these wooden gutter*, wera |
brought. Then he had a little hole
made at the edge of the trap door and
formed a conduit from the pump to
this opening.
“Now we will give these Prussians
something to drink,” he said.
Then he ordered a number of men to
the pump, who relieved each other
every five minutes. A stream of
water glided through tho conduit and
fell into the cellar. The work of ■
pumping was continued for three
hours, the commandant in the mean
time marching up and down the kitch
en, wondering why tho men did not
capitulate. About eight o’clock In
the morning a voice was heard at the
little grated aperture which served to
ventilate the collar, saying:—
“1 want to speak with the French
officer.”
Lavigne replied from the window,
advancing his head only a little:—
"Will you surrender?”
The Prussian officer answered that
I ho would.
“Then pass your muskets out,” add-
i ed Lavigne.
Presently one musket was passed
through the aperture and fell upon ‘
the snow, then another and another,
until all had been passed out. Then
thesatne voie^said:—
“We have no more. Make haste
and let us out, for wo are nearly
drowned.”
Tho c<r - nndant oponed tho trap
door. Four dripping heads appeared 1
—four heads with pale faces and long j
yellow hair. Then, one by one, the six
Prussians emerged, wet, shivering and
frightened. They were seized and
bound. The commandant at once led
away his prisoners, with whom he en
: tered Rethel in triumph. M. Lavigne
was decorated for having captured a
■ Prussian advance guard. —Prom the
j French.
How Savages count.
It is very amusing to see the people
of Kamtschatka attempt to reckon
above ten, for, having reckoned the
i fingers of both hands, they clasp them
; together, which signifies ten; they
| then begin at their toes and count to
j twenty, after which they are quite con
founded, and cry “Matcha,” that is,
| “Where shall I take more?”
A Moravian missionary relates of
the Greenlanders that they in counting i
proceed beyond twenty with great re
luctance, and generally apply to all
numbers above twenty a name which j
means “innumerable.”
Parry, the groat Arctic explorer,
says of some tribes of Esquimaux that
: they require to use their fingers to
count as high as three, and generally
make some mistake before they reach
■ seven.
; Many South American tribes are !
i said to have no more than four distinct ■
numerals; and the consequent diflicul
, ty in understanding high numbers is
well illustrated by a statement of Hum- '
bold!, that he never met an Indian <
' who would not, if asked bis age, say,
j indifferently, sixteen or sixty, not con- j
I scions that there was much difference
between the two.
The following anecdote of a South
American traveller confirms the state- i
meat. This traveller, when out with I
a party of ten or a dozen Indians, ;
asked one of them, “Are we many?” ;
“Yes, we are many.” “Are we innu- [
merable?” “Yes, we are innumera- !
ble.” “That tribe,” he says, "when
i they wished to tell how many captives
they had taken were unable to state
: the number, but would mark out a j
space of ground and say there were as ;
many as could stand in it.”
The inhabitants of some West Indi- j
an islands are said to exclaim whenev- !
era number exceeds ten, “As many as j
; hairs of ray head,” or “As the sand of I
the sea.”
The Yancos, a tribe dwelling near j
the Amazon, have no name for any j
i number beyond three, "and lucky it is :
' for those who have to do with them,”
says the traveller who records the fact,
; “for their name for three is ‘Po-et-tar
ra-ro-rin-co-a-ro-ac,’ ” a w ord of ten
syllables. Who can wonder that arith
metic has not flourished in these lands?
A Superfluous Boy.
William Trotter has been paying his
addresses to Miss Rosa Hedsteer, of
Wace. Ilis visits have not been very
frequent of late, and last night Tommy,
Miss Rosa’s younger brother, said:
“You ought to come and see us every
• evening. Mr. Trotter.”
“Why, Tommy?”
"Because it makes sister Rosa so
happy to have you go away. Y r ou
ought never to miss an evening.”
They missed Trotter for the rest of
i that evening.— Texas Siftings,
(tropical sea wonders.
; Marine Life in the Waters
Off Lower California.
Beautiful Sponges, Oysters with Lamps,
| Ocean Butterflies, Wonderful Shells,
Fannie B. Ward says in a letter
from Mulege, Lower California, to the
New York Sun: The sea seems to be
doing its best hereabouts to make up
for the barrenness of the land. It is
stored with an incredible number and
variety of fish, including all those to be
found in southern waters, and common
as well as pearl-producing oysters,
i The most beautiful sponges abound in
; the Gulf, no less than a dozen differ
ent species out of the fifty into which |
naturalists have classed them. Most
numerous is the sponge lomentosa,
bright orange-colored, and full of gela
tinous flesh. When dry it turns snow
j white, and when broken resembles
| bread. If rubbed on the hand it will
raise blisters, and when dried in an
oven its stinging properties are in
creased. A common variety here is
the oculata, which grows to an extra
ordinary height. Its delicate branch
es are furnished with rows of small
projecting cells along the edges, and
its intricate galleries rival the Laby
rinth of Crete. Here is also the tiny
coronet sponge, its single, pale yellow
I tube wearing a crown of spinis topped
I with shining rays; the lemon-hued
grape sponge, its hollow branches re
sembling the fruit of the vine, the
openings at the top being evidently
mouths through which the animals im
bibe moisture. Then there are literal
oceans of coxcomb sponge, and the
j common coarse variety which grows
so plentifully in the Mediterranean.
I It is the latter species which is best
known to commerce for its absorbing
capacity—the same for which the no
ble matrons of Rome gave large sums
of money to have saturated with
myrrhed wine and held to the Ups of
| those enduring tho torments of cruci
fixion,to subdue their intolerable thirst.
Poking about the salty sands in pur
suit of information, Betsy and I find
entertaining study even in these most
insignificant of created beings. While
the young oyster and his migrating
cousin, the mytilus, are sowing their
wild oats and roving here and there,
the sedate grandparents anchor them
selves snugly at home, by means of
small cords, which they weave around
the stones. And what do you think
of the oyster which lights up thedark
noss of his solitary dwelling by a liv
| ing lamp? Examine any common
I oyster, and in the centre of most of
| the shells you will find a bluish spot,
j resembling a star. Apply to this a
j powerful microscope, and you will dis
cover that this bit of phosphorous con
sists of three different sorts of animal
cules. The largest of these has forty
eight legs attached to its slender body,
a black spot on the head which is evi-
I dently its only eye, and a back exactly
i resembling an eel's; the second insect
J has also one eye, numerous feet, a dog’s
; nose, and a body composed of several
I rings; while the third has a speckled
: body and a colt’s head, topped with a
I tuft of hair. Each of these creatures
I Is beautifully luminous, and together
I they resemble a bluish star, which,
i perhaps, like the enchanted lamp of
, Armida, serves to lure wanderers to
i destruction in supplying the oyster’s
| larder.
Not least interesting among the bi
j valve family are the scallops. The
kind called butterflies of the ocean are
| frequently seen flitting about over the
; clear waters, rivalling the papilonace
ous tribes in beauty of coloring.
Though enclosed in a citadel of consid
erable thickness, the animal can not
i only float upon the waves, but can
mo* a considerable distance on land,
i Sometimes an adventurous scallop finds
| himself deserted by the tide and left
■ high and dry above his native element.
[ Then, by spreading his valves as wide
| as possible and shutting them with a
; jerk, he propels himself about five
| inches, and continual repetition of the
! operation gradually tumbles him for-
I ward into the sea. In fair weather
they congregate together and mount
i the billows, forming little fleets, with
half their shells erected to catch the
breeze, and the other half, which holds
the animal, remaining immersed be
low. When any foe appears, or a sud
den squall darkens the surface of the
deep, each little creature instantly
shuts up shop, and his pigmy vessel
disappears. Doubtless it was this
curious habit of the shellfish which
suggested the poetic fable of sea gods
taking their airings in scallop chariots
drawn by tritons, like Neptune’s car,
as portrayed on the medal of Claudius.
Here are also found numbers of the
* oyster jawbrea, like that worn by pil
grims, who "fixed the scallop in their
i hat before,” to prove they had cros e 1
the sea on their way to the Holy Land.
But to us the most curious of all io
NO. 26.
the Buccinum purpura and its rela.
J tive, the stationary Murex, the same
little creatures which furnished the
‘ royal purple of imperial Tyre. Betsy
! and I have been dabbling in the same
branch of business, and in the course
-of our experiments have converted all
i our available paraphernalia into purple
l of varying shades. The story goes
j that a favorite dog of the Tyrian Iler
; cules, while prowling about the sea
shore, accidentally broke a buccinum
shell which stained his mouth such a
gorgeous color that Tyrus, Hercules’s
sweetheart, vowed never to see her
lover again until he should bring her
p. robe of the same hue. Thus con
strained, Hercules gathered a great
> quantity of the shells, and persevered 1
till the nymph was gratified and the
art given to the world. A white vein, 1
growing transversely in a little hol
low near the head of tho fish, holds the (
precious dye. Each tiny creature ]
yields but one drop, and hence the
real Tyrian purple vied in value with (
gold itself. If cne wishes to try the ,
i experiment of Hercules, let him pro- ,
ceed in this wise: After sufficient
| liquid has been extracted, drop by
drop, from the throat of the fishes, wet
the wool or cotton in it and spread it
iin the sun. At first it appears pale
green, then the color of the sea, and in
. a few minutes sky blue; then it deep
ens to purplish red, and in an hour or
more turns to gorgeous purple. By !
: washing the linen at once it changes !
I to a brilliant crimson; but when the 1
color is once sot nothing can fade or
| turn it. ,
The Handsome Neapolitans.
They are a handsome race these ,
! Neapolitans, and some day in the far
| dim future, when they learn andprac
tice the elementary arts of the toilet,
their good looks will show forth with
additional lustre. Such splendid, great
flashing black eyes, such stately figures,
such rich black locks, unkempt and
rusty though they be, are seldom to bo
seen even in the other parts of Italy
The picturesque lazzarone, with his
red sash, bare legs, and general taste
for melody and macaroni, has entirely
vanished. But though his picturesque
ness has disappered, his laziness and
dirt remain. It is now twenty-five
years since Victor Emanuel and Gari
baldi rode side by side into a rescued
Naples. But in this quarter of a cen
tury no wave from tho incoming tide
of freedom has swept over this city.
There is a new Rome and a new
Genoa. Divine Providence can alone
ell when there will be a new Naples.
No wonder that the cholera came hero
aud reigned triumphant for so many
: month of late. King Pijflt, never had
a kingdom more thoroughly unswept,
more abominably garnished. Ono
i much needed reform at least will
I shortly be accomplished. Naples is
entirely destitute of drinking water
that is even moderately palatable and
tolerably wholesome. Her general i
supply is drawn from wells, in many,
instances occupying the same excava
tion as the cesspool of tho house and
only separated from it by a wall of a
single brick in thickness. No wonder
' that severe illnesses arise from drink
ing tho liquid thus contaminated. A
grand new aqueduct which has been in
process of construction for some
years past is to be formally inaugura
ted on the 30th of this month. King
Humbert and Queen Margherita are
coming, from Rome to preside at the
ceremony, and thereafter for the first '
time in her history tho city will enjoy |
the benefits of pure drinking water. [
Eu<y Hooper in Philadelphia Tele- j
gram.
General Sheri dan’s Three Girls. ;
Children of officials often give a re- i
freshing side to social life at the capi- I
tai that makes it not all superficial and |
frivolous. "It has been said of General
Sheridan that he is not a success as a
“society man” because ho is too much
in love with his pretty wife. The "hero
of Winchester" is even more devoted
to his children, three girls and “little
Phil,” Jr., a boy of 5 years. The twin
girls, Mary and Louise, look up to
their older sister. Irene, who is but a !
year older than themselves, with a'
faith in her superiorii.y that is some- '
times amusing.
“So you three little girls are sisters,”
said a lady the other day. meeting tho
trio out for a walk.
“Oli. no; wc are twins. Irene is our
sister.” replied one of the pair with se
rious simplicity.
At the fancy dress children’* party
given at General Beale's house Irene
wore a long train. Little Johnny
Hazen, only son of Chief of Signal Ser
vice Hazen, was so much amused that
lie Jangl ed at the little lady The twins
were ind'gnant, and oho of them ex
claimed:
“Just see that boy laugh at our sister.
I don’t like him a bit, md I don’t know
his name. But you know his father i 3
the man who makes the weather.”—
Wasl tngton Capit I.
What Recompense!
Ho might have sung a song tho world should
hear,
Whose clarion notes had sung so loud and
clear
That mon had listened and been mado
The better for tho fray,
Tho moil and care of every day;
Stronger to boar tho heavy burdens 1
By lite on toilers in the onward way;
But fate said nay I
Sho might have had the right to say "My own,”
The joy of being loved sho might have kuown,
Had wrapped around her as a shield
From every stinging, poisoned dart
Os envy, hatred, or malicious art,
The mantle of a love that would not yield *
To any foe, but die to save her heart! . •
But fate said nay!
Site*wept her vanidibd hopes, yet sweeter trod
The path of self-dßnial that leads up to God.
Ho did his work in tho
That God had given him, and labored well;
The future world alone can tell
What recompense should come to those who
hero
Bow meekly and work on, nor curse tho knell
That sounds fate's nay!
HUMOROUS.
A round dozen—A dozen of oranges.
The place to live in when the next
flood comes—New-ark.
A roller skate may gather no moss,
but it barks a good many shins.
“Wo meet to part no more,” said tho
bald-headed man to his hair brush.
Men’s heads are something like
omnibuses—the empty ones make the
most noise.
“What is a lake?” asked the teach
er. A bright little Irish boy raised
his hand. “Well, Mickey, what is it?”
“Sure, it’s a hole in the kittle, mum.”
An exchange asks: “How shall we
prevent mice from gnawing the bark'
off fruit trees?” Kill the mice of
course. .A dead mouse never gnaws
bark.
A Philadelphia woman says she was
kissed by a spirit at a seance. That
sensation must be almost as gratifying
as being hugged by the ghost of a
chance.
An exchange notes that tho Horse
shoe Fall at Niagara has receded some
300 feet from its original position.
Probably an attempt to getaway from
the hackmen.
First Boston Girl—“ Going to vocal
practice this morning, Minerva?”
"Second Boston Girl—“No, my dear
Calliope, I have a bad coltl and am quite
hoarse.” “Ah, been exposing yourself
to the weather?” “Yes, I went out
yesterday and forgot to put on my
spectacles.”
Grant and the Kentucky Lndics.
The Kentucky women are as en
thusiastic about horses as the men.
They unhesitatingly place the horses
before themselves as the great attrac
tions of the state. I remember hear
ing a conversation between General
Grant and a Kentucky girl at the St-
Louis Merchants’ Exchange in 1875,
when President Grant was visiting
the St. Louis fair. A number of
ladies were introduced to the Presi
dent, whereupon he spoke in very
high terms of St. Louis, the fair, &c.
“You are mistaken, Mr. President—
we are not from St. Louis,” laughing
ly said one of the girls, “we are from
Kentucky, a very fine state, you know,
which possesses three things all men
of taste must appreciate.” Smilingly, ’
the President asked her what they
were. She answered: “We have the
fastest horses, the prettied women
and the finest whiskey in the ~ orld.”
The President replied: “Your horses
are certainly justly renowned; 1 have
some on my farm near here; yourself
and party prove the correctness of
your second observation, but whiskey
is one of the things that require age,
and your men consume it so fast that
it rarely has a fair chance to become
good.” The girls thought that if
General Grant could not make a long
speech he was apt at repartee.
Cliaiigiiig tho Subject.
"Always,” said papa, as he drank
his coffee and enjoyed his morning
beefsteak, “always, children, change
the subject when anything unpleasant
has been said. It is both wise and po
lite.”
That evening on his return from
business he found his carnation bed
despoiled, and the tiny imprint of slip
pered feet silently bearing witness to
the small thief.
“Mabel,” he said to her, “did you
pick iny Howers?”
“Papa,” said Mabel, “did you see a
monkey in town ?”
“Never mind that. Did you pick my
flowers?”
"Papa, what did grandma send me?”
“Mabel, what do you mean? Did
you pick my (lowers? Answer me yes
or no.”
“Yes, papa, I did; but I thought I'd
change the subject,”
'• ■— ‘
A Phrenologist’s Mistake.
“The developeiuent at the back of
the head, my friends, indicates filial
affection,” explained the phrenologist.
.'Now you will observe,” he wen’ on
feeling the head of the boy on the plat
form, “that, this bump is abnormal in
size, thus indicating that this lad
loves and reveres his parents to an
unusual degree. Is it not so my lad?”
“Naw!” “What? You don’t love your
parents?” “I think well enough of
mither, replied the boy, “but I aint
very fond of feyther, "That bump
you’re feelin’ of he gave me last night
wid a cricket stump.”— Public Opin
ion.