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A Woman's Portrait.
MWn« »j» fa; Qod made bur so,
-Ant deeds at wook-day holiness
Van from har noiseless SI tba snow,
(For has she ever chanced to know
That aught wore easier than to Idem
She is most fair, and thereunto
Her life doth rightly harmonize;
Feeling or thought that was not true
Ne’er made leas beautiful the blue,
Unclouded heaven of her eyes.
She is n woman; one in whom
The rpring tlmo of her childish yearj
Hath never lost its fresh perrume.
Though knowing well that life hath room
For many blights and many tears.
—Jinnies It\tssell Lovmll.
BEHIND THE COUNTER.
■"My first day nt tho store I’’ said Car-
ty Wallingford, with n curious thr!!!
through her, ns if an Ice cold stream
wore trickling down the lino of her spi
nal column. “Oh, I wish I wero a rich
.girl, null'didn't have to work?”
“Work it honorable, my child," eaiil
slid Uncle Wolsey, who, with his specta
cles on his noso was trying to spell
'through tho illegible paragraphs of the
>duily paper, muttering to himself that
“either they didn't print as good as they
■usod In, or clso his old oy(sight was fail-
ring.”
"Y.s, 1 know," fluttered Curry; "but
—but I’m very willing thnt someone else
should linvo the honor this time."
Undo Wolsey turned‘his glasses with
mild reproach upon his niece’s pink-and-
whito balsam of u face,
“1 wish I could bo ns brave ns you,
Uncle Wolsey!" Bniil Carry, as she tied
the crimson strings of her little cupoto
Hinder her round chin.
Old Wolsey Wallingford had sheltered
his little pet lamb by his hearth-fold all
Tier lifetime until noiv. Ho was n jowel-
•er by trade, and he had kept his unpre
tending store open is long ns possible.
But tho tide of fashion went by, and left
him stranded on the unfrequented side-
street, wbero the sign of tho tarnished
silver wnteli attracted no further atten
tion.
And ono day, when he had set all day
in tho window with his magnifying-glass,
working at some impossible old time
piece, whoso owner had died and nevor
called for it, the twilight crept darkly
over his eyesight and his heart.
He laid down his tools.
“All day long,” said he, “and never n
customer! Woll-a-day 1 it is timo for the
old man to Bhut up his store at last.”
He went out and put up tho wooden
shutters, with n heart that was heavier
than they, and from that time thence
forward tho wooden imitation of tho sil
ver walcli Bwung no longer over tho door.
Uncle Wolsey had boon conquered in
life’s battle, and had laid down his arms,
and now It was that Carry reluctantly
throw liorself into tho broach.
How could she let tho dear old man
starve? And Mr. Plckroll's fancy and
-dry goods store on Siith avenue was
really a very creditable establishment,
and Mrs. Pickrell herself had promised,
from the severe heights of the cashier’s
desk, to “keep an eye” upon old Mr.
Wallingford’s niece, and if her services
proved desirable, there was no sort of
doubt but that her salary would be in
creased in time.
Bo Carry buttonod up her sack, drew
on her neat lisle-thread gloves and took
the little basket, In which, wrapped la a
napkin, was packed her lunch of apple-
pie and cheese, and went forth to meet
her new career, little reckoning how
briof it was to be.
At first it was not vory pleasant. Tho
atorc was small and stuffy, with gorgeou 8
piles of cretonne and chintz at the door,
and festoons of laces, silk handkerchiefs
and colored jerseys flapping against the
heads of the girls behind tho counter, of
whom there were three besides Carry—
bold, high-voiced damsels, who wore
their hair down over the bridge of their
noses and giggled incessantly.
Customers came and went, change was
made and paper parcels expeditiously
wrapped up.
Mr. Pickrell walked the floor with his
bands in his pockets, ordered away
(mail girls whoso noses were flattened
too persistently against the windows out-
aide, and smiled beamingly on old ladies
who stopped to examine the quality of
the chintzes and flannel suitings.
Mrs. Pickrell reprimanded the young
■women with the banged hair for giggling
too loud when thero were customers in
tho store, and called to Carry to “mind
what she was about” when a box of rib
bons fell off the counter upon the floor.
Carry grew very weary, her head began
to ache, and she wondered how long it
would be before “shutting-up time."
At last a tall, brown-faced young man
came in, wearing a foreign-looking coat
trimmed with fur, and somehow bearing
in his aspect the indescribable stamp of
belonging to some other country.
One of tho bnnged-haired nymphs was
eating her lunch; tho second had rushed
up the street to get change for a ten dol
lar bill; and tho third was engaged in
matching an impossible shade of ribbon
for a young lady who was determined
not to bo pleased with anything.
"Carry I” shrilly signaled Mrs. Pick
rell.
And our heroine advanced gallantly to
tho rescue.
“What can 1 show you?” she asked,
timidly, of tho now customer.
“Silk, please,” said the young man.
And when Carry perceived that he
was considerably moro embarrassed than
hcrsolf, she took courage.
“What color?” said she.
“I don’t know,” nnswored the cus
tomer— “that is—I haven’t quite mado
up my mind. Perhaps you could sug
gest—”
"What is it "for ?" Carry asked, with
mild toleration of his evident bewilder
ment; and nt the same timo sho could
not help perceiving that he was very
hnudsomc, with wavy black hair and and
dark, liquid eyes, long lashes, and plca-
snnt to look upon.
"For a dress."
"A dress? But is it for a young lady,
or an old one?"
"I don’t know,” acknowledged the
gcntlcmnn—“young—that is, not old.
She can’t bo over forty.—To tell you tho
truth”—and ho smiled in spite of him-
solf—“I’ve ncvcrscon the lady. But she
is a cousin of mine, and I want to make
her a present,”
“Yes, I understand,” said Carry. “Is
it to bu black or colorod ?"
“What would you adviso?" said the
stranger, blindly clutching at Cnrry’s
feminine counsel as a shipwrecked mar
iner muy be expected to cling to a float-
ing spnr,
“Black would perhaps bo more suit
able, seeing tlint you don't know tho
Indy’s ago or comploxion,” remarked
Carry.
“But blue and pink aro such protty
colors I” pleaded tho dark-haired young
man, looking longingly at the piles of
lustrous fabrics on the shelves.
“Yes," Baid Carry, growing inter
ested; “but they are only suitable for a
very few occasions, while black is always
appropriate.”
“I thought that only old ladies woro
black silk ?”
“Young Indies do, ulso,” calmly na-
Bcrtcd Carry.
“If you were selecting a dress,” said
tho stranger, in desperation, “which
color would you chooso ?”
“I would choose seal brown,” said
Carry, after a second or two of deliber
ation.
“Eh? should you? Show me seal-
brown then, please,” said the customer.
“It’s a little grave, perhaps”—surveying
tho shining folds, “hut it's pretty, yes,
it’s very protty 1 How many yards now
docs it take for a dress?”
“I should think,” said Carry,' after a
second intervnl of reflection, “that fif
teen yards might answer if it was econ
omically cut.”
“I don’t know anything about ccon -
omy,” said the young man; “I want a
good allowance.”
“Thoa I should recommend eighteen
yards,” odvjsod Carry.
“Cut mo off eighteen yards,” said the
gentleman, promptly; “and put in the
linings and trimmings and all that sort
of thing, please—you’ll know what I
need, better than I do myself. And I
sny—"
“Sir?" said Carry, as ho hesitated.
"Have you anything that would make
a nice present for an old gentleman, do
you think?”
“A silk neck muffler?" suggested
Carry, her eyes running across the
shelves of the store, “or a pair of fur-
lined gloves?”
“Capital!” said the customer. “Put
’em both in the parcel.”
“Thank you, sir,” said Carry. “Where
shall we send them?”
“Nowhere,” answered the customer.
“I’ll take them along myself, and then 1
shall be sure that there is no mistake,
I’m a thousand times obliged to you
miss!”
“Not in the least,” said Carry, with
dignity.
Bo the dark-eyed stranger with the
fur-trimmed coat departed, and Mrs.
Pickrell praised the young shop girl for
tho good sale she had made.
“You’ll be a valuable hand in time,”
said she. “It isn’t often we get a chance
to soil a silk pattern lilco that. Folks
mostly go on Broadway for their expen
sive dresses,” she added, with a sigh.
Carry was very tired when she
came home in tho frosty October dusk.
The store did not close until ten, but the
girls took turns, two by two, to stay af
ter sunset, and Carry’s turn fortunately
did not come until the next night.
When she reached home Undo Wol-
sev had the lamp lighted and the kettle
boiling for too, and was slicing off soma
canned corn beef, and “minding” tho
toast before tho Are at tho saino time.
It looked cheery and pleasant; Carry
drew a long sigh of relief.
“How nice it is to bo at home, Unc’o
Wolsey 1" she cried. “Do let mo mako
that toast 1 And, oh t it hasn’t boon
such a very hard day, after nil. And
Mrs. Pickroll says 1’vo made tho best
sale she has bad for a week. JJuch a
handsome young man. UncTo Wolsey I
and he treated me as if I wero a princess
instead of a working girl, nad—"
"Stop, stop I” said Undo Wolsoy,
pnusing with the knifo still in his hnnd.
“I’vo had a good -looking young man
here, too, Carry. Needn’t think you’vo
got a monopoly of the article. What do
you think of your poor mother’s cousin
from tho seal-fur fisheries in Alaska?
And what do you think of his bringing
theso things hero os n present for you and
me—eh?"
Unde Wolsoy laid down tho knifo,
and carofully dusting his hands on the
roller-towol, drew forth from tho bu
reau-drawer a seal-brown silk dress-
pattern, and a pair of fur-lined gloves,
wrapped around with a spotted silk neck
muffler.
“Why, Undo Wolsey—" almost
shrieked Carry.
“What’s the matter?” said the ola
man. Ain’t they pretty? Oughtn’t I
to have taken ’em?”
“It’s tho very man,” said Carry. “1
sold them to him this afternoon.”
■‘Hey?” said Undo Wolsoy.
“At tho storo," said Carry. Oil,
Undo Wolsey I And is ho roally my
cousin? I am so glad.
"Glad of what? retorted a strong,
choory voice, nnd in enmo tho mysteri
ous stranger himself. “Why, I declare,"
ho cried, if there isn’t tho little girl who
sold mo tho things to-day.”
“Glad that you are my cousin,” said
Curry, with a mischievous smilo and a
low courtesy. “Because—because I
thought you wero very pleusnnt and
kind—■"
“And I thought—’’ said tho stranger.
“But no, I won't toll you whut I thought.
How do you do cousin?”
“I am so glad you chose the seal
brown silk 1” demurely observed Carry.
Wlmt should 1 have done with n bluo nr
a pink silk!”
“It would havo looked very well on
you,’’said tho cousin meditatively eyeing
her, “bluo would havo matched your
eyes; pink, your chcoks.”
“Just my sontiments,” chuckled Uncle
Wolsey. “Come, young folks—come;
tea is ready. And tho toast is getting
cold.”
Not until tho visitor had taken his
leave did Uncle Wolsey, smoking his
pipe beforo tho fire, impart to Carry an
additional piece of news.
“What d’ye supposo Mr. Lennox told
me he came down to the States for,
Carry?"
"I'm sure I don’t know,” said Carry,
innocently.
“To get him n wife I” said Undo Wol-
soy.
“Oh!" said Carry, shading licr faco
from tho fire. “Iam sura I hope ho
will be successful I”
The three banged-hnir young maidens
at Pickrcll’s Emporium subscribed to
buy a Bob' mian glass cologne set for
Carry Wallingford’s wedding present;
but they murmured much among them
selves hccau e this ggldcn stratum of
luck had not come to them,
“We’re just as pretty as she,” said
they; “and much prettier, some folks
would say. And why couldn’t the 'cus
tomer have fallen to our lot?"
There aro some questions which Cupid
alone can nnswer. And he, the winged
rogue is obstinately silent.—Helen Foreet
Graves.
Tho Law and tho Profits.
Mrs. Bumpkin's oldest boy had gone
West, and a friend of the family
was making some inquiries about him.
“I understand John is an attorney,”
he said.
“Yes, and he got lots of busi
ness,” she answered, with a mother’s
pride.
“Ib he a criminal lawyer?"
A shadow fell upon the good old lady’s
face.
“No, not yet,” sho said. “Leastways
he hain't told me. But I’m afraid ho
will be. The law is so dreadful tempt-
ing.”
Doubtful of the Outcome.
Life insurance agent (filling out appli
cation)—Your general health is good, is
it not?”
Applicant—“Never lmd n sick day in
my life.”
Agent—“Uin. You do not contemplate
entering upon any hazardous undertak
ing, I suppose?”
Applicant—“Well, yes, I am afraid]
do. 1 am going to get married Wednes
day.’’- Lowell Citizen.
QUEER WMPONS.
A Book Agent’s Story of a
Midnight Attack.
Bourn) 0audios os a Means of Defense
Against Indians.
“Ono of my adventuros, ch?” began
the book agent, as tho others settled
intothoir scats more comfortably. “Well,
about eight yoars ago I carried a pack
of novelties, suoh ns you frequently see
exhibited on tho streot corners and pre
sided over by m sun-burnod Italian.
With another man and n young fellow
of eighteen I traveled through Kansas to
the Colorado line, selling and trading
our wnres to tho Indians for nnything
marketable in tho cities. About the time
of our arrival in tho western part of
Kansas the memorable Indian outbrenk
was terrorizing tho country. From tho
south and west camo reports of the ter
rible outrages perpetrated by tho Indi
ans and greasers. Houses wero burned,
tho inmates wero killed instantly or tor
tured to death and all the
cattlo wero • driven off and scat
tered. You may bo suro I felt consider
able solicitudo concerning tho safety of
my little party, and took oxtra precau
tions to find socluded spots whon camp
ing. Of course, under tho conditions,
I deemed it advisable to got out of tho
neighborhood immediately. To do so
we found it necessary to pass through
tho country most likely to bo. lnfcstod
by straggling bands of Indians. De
spite tho ri.ks wo ilotorminod to mnko
tho attempt. After a long, hard day’s
tramp wo cucampod for tho night in ouo
i of those small canyons so prevalent in
western Kansas. It was an cxccllont
place, too. Our backs wero effectually
protected by a natural cavo in the sido
of tho bank, tho ontrauco to which was
concealed by brush and tall grass. Sam,
tho boy of tho party, wns an unusually
bright young fallow and vory familiar
with tho tuctlcs of Indian warfare. Just
beforo lying down I noticed him
untying a good-sized bundle of sticks
resembling short broom hnndlos. Ho
placod them in easy reach nnd tumbled
down to sleep. I had also noticed him
fumbling around tho bushes n
short timo beforo, but didn’t
pay much attention to his actions.
Tho other follow and mysalf concluded
not to set a guard, as wo wore in such
an excellent placo. I don't know how
long wo had slept when wo woro awak
ened by Bam, shaking us slightly and
whispering:
“ ‘Be quick now, tho Indians are get
ting ready to slip in on us.’ ”
“By this timo wo woro both wide
awake ready with our riflos.’ ”
“‘Liston,’ whispered Sam.; ‘hear tho
dirty scamps Blipping up. Put down
tho rifles. I’vo got something better.’
“Ho hnndcd us cash four of the sticks
mentioned, remarking:
“ ‘Thom’s roman candles. I’vo got apilo
of whoppers along, nnd I think we can scare
theso scamps clean out o’ their hides.’
“I caught tho idoa in u moment nnd
strained by ears to listen for further
demonstrations from tho attacking party.
We could hoar them creeping hero and
there through tho bushes, scarcoly
a noise, but easily distinguished in the
silence of the night.
“ ‘Now,’ whispered Bom, ‘take two
in each hand I’ll light them.’
“Suiting tho action to tho word, he
contrived to light them in rapid suc
cession. Then wo turned them into the
bushes, and, heavens, wlmt a sight
was revealed as the candles flashed.
About fifty villainous-looking sav
ages nnd greasers wero stooping
and creeping along toward us. At
the first flash they stopped as if spell
bound. We turned them so the
green and white balls would strike
them la their faces, The candles were
tremendous affairs, and eight or ten of
them popping away apparently inde
pendent of human aid was enough to
terrorize any one. Our assailants wa
vered a moment, then with a terrible
yell, bounded away toward high ground
ns if iho devil himself was in pursuit.
Wo could hear them scramble up the
hillside, mount their horses and gallop
away. Sam afterward explained that ho
had brought tho candles along as a sido
speculation, nnd he also explained that
he had arranged a system of strings
among tho bushes so that no ono could
approach very closb without meeting tho
obstruction nnd alarming him. It is
needless to state thnt we reached safe
ground in duo lime without further mo
lestation. ’ ’—Omaha Herald.
A Funny Story.
“Hu! ha! ha I” iuughed Dumley as lie
finished a long chestnut. “Capital story,
eh, Fcathcrly?”
“Yes,” replied Feather'.}-, “it’s good
ever timo, Dumley; good every time.”
A Secure Refuge for Criminals. |
Iu tho Island of Formosa nature her
self hat formed a fortified home for
bloodthirsty criminals. Formosa is an
island nbout ninoty miles off the coast of
Chinn, from which country it is separa
ted by tho channel of Folkon. It was '
unknown to tho Chlncso until the year
of 1403, and in 1034 tho Dutch estab
lished a settlement there, but after 8S
years of pcaoeful residence they wero
expelled by the famous rebel Coxingn,
whose successors ruled tho island until
1033, whon tho Chinese took full posses
sion. Then tho population was from
3,000,000 to 3,000,000; now it lias dwin-'
diod down to a littlo moro than 100,000. :
Although only 330 miles long and 80
miles in breadth, nothing is known—by
civilized beings—of tho interior portion, 1
for it is inclosed by nn enormous vol
canic range, and it is within this thnt all
tho aborigines now herd together.
Theso natives havo a slender form,
olivo complexion, long hair, and blacken
their teeth. They havo no writton lan
guage, and their religion is conflnod to
a superstitious beliof in demons and sor
cerers. No wondor then that they are
easily govornod by soma of tho moro ad
vanced descendants of tho robol Coxingn,
many of whom havo taken up their
abode with them, and a wild and des
perate lifo they lead. Tiiey taka advan
tage of tho asylutd offered by this belt
of country to mnko organized expedi
tions therefrom for purposes of pillage,
and even go so far as to nrrnngo defen
sive operations against tho dwoilcrs on
the soaconst as n pretext for the levying
monoy. Moro than 1000 cases of inurdar
are committed by thosa pooplo ovory
year, and tho Chinese authorities are
completely set at deflanco.
Tho mountainous nnturo of tho coun
try and tho largo numbers to bo dealt
with preclude all success of tho Chinoso
soldiers against ihom. The brignails
know every loophole, nod can get out
side, whereas tho others arc unable to
find their way in. Tho policy of tho
present governor of Formosa seems to bo
to draw all the nntivos outside and away
from their associates. This plan hat
partly succeeded, but there are still at
least 100,000 natives leagued with brig
ands, and nnturc’s lofty volcanic wall*
still remain u fortress impossible to storm,
but easily hclcl by those red-handed do*-
peradocs.—San Francisco Call.
A Great Poultry Farm.
There is a poultry farm of 8000 Ply
mouth Itocks, at Lancaster, Mass. Mr.
Hawkins, its owner, calculates to havo
about 8000 fowls every fall, and carries
over 3000 laying liens through tho wlntor.
His farm contains twenty-live acres, und
his poultry buildings an acre and a half.
These comprise six or sovon sliods, 300
foot in length. Each shed is divldod
into apartments of 13x30 foot, nnd about
twenty-flvo hens aro kept in cnch divi
sion. A yard is mado in front of each
apartmont,
Mr. Hawkins believes thnt if confined
poultry havo their wnnts' attended to
they will do ns woll as if allowed free
rango. Hu bases this belief on Boveral
actual tests. In hatching timo ho sets
two hundred liens in ono day, and puts
flvo hundred eggs in un incubator, which
Is duo to hatch on tho saino day, tho
chickens from which will bo distributed
among two hundred liens. His sales of
fowls and eggs for hatching at fancy
prices aro large, about ninoty per cent,
being proflt. Ho also has a standing
order for sixty to ninety dozen of eggs
daily, for which he gets the highost mar
ket price. Mr. Hawkins began at the
ago of twenty-one with ono hundred
liens, and by careful management and
economy his business has enlarged so
that at tho age of twenty-eight ho has a
very handsome incomo. Tho poultry
manure is quite an item. He sold last
year flvo hundred barrels at |i.80 pet
barrel.—Farm and Fireside.
— 1
Americans Who Catch Titles.
It lias bccomo proverbial for American
girls to marry titled foreigners, but it is
very rare that an American young man
wins the heart and hnnd of a titled
Europcun. It was indeed accomplished
in the case of Mr. Asbmcnd Bartlett, hut
then Lady Burdctt-Coutts was so old
and the groom so young thnt tho con
tracting parties could not bo held re
sponsible for their acts. But the recent
marriage of Mr. Harold W. Pearsall
witii tlie daughter of the Marquis Origo,
King Humbert’s master of tho horse,
presents a good example of a noble
family of the old world allying itself
with republican stock in the new. Sir.
Pearsall's stepfather is Count R:sse, who
resides in a charming villa in the beau
tiful environs of Florence. His mother,
Countess It sso, is tile daughter of Mrs.
Elizabeth 15. Phelps of New York, a
lady of a largo wealth nnd still larger
views on ail questions pertaining to
social progress.—[N. Y. Star,