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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,