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The Minstrel.
He thought be once could sing
A song of love and spring,
But stammered, though he held a full-strung
lyre;
Because he lacked the art
Which later years impart;
Because the skill was less than the desire.
And now he seems to know
Just how the tunc should flow;
But misses the young ardor once so strong.
The impulse of the heart
Is slower than the art;
The skill to sing is better than the song.
The sobering touch of time
Holds back the hasty rhyme
That in the heat of youth once spurned con¬
trol;
For snared in webs of thought
His flying dreams are caught;
Age looks beyond the seuses to the soul.
Ab, could the singer’s art
Assume the loftier part
As once the lowlier in the realm of song!
Ah, could life’s grander themes
Flow like the early streams,
What minstrel then would say he had lived
too long?
—[Christopher P. Cranch in Harper’s.
MARTHA’S MISSION.
Like a lily, tall and slcuder and
graceful, Alartha Fairfield looked in
her deep mourning dress, waxen white
complexion and liquid gray eyes, as
alto she stood at the window, waiting
for the rumble of the omnibus wheels
eu route for tho station, while close at
her side a heavy-eyed widow reso¬
lutely endeavored to keep back the
tears.
“It will not be for long, mamma,
dear,” said Martha, encouragingly.
And Mrs. Fairfield answered,
bravely, “No, darling, it will not be
for Jong.”
“And only to think, mamma,” went
on Martha, cheerily, “I am to have
£150 a year and a six weeks’ vacation
in the Summer, and all tho duties I
am to perform aro being companion
to an invalid. You don’t know how
rich I feel, mamma, dear. And I shall
send you a check for the very first
quarterly payment I receive; for what
do I need of money, mamma, with my
nice, new outfit of drosses?”
Mrs. Fairfield sighed softly. A sit¬
uation for Martha had been the most
earnest desire of mother and daughter
for the past six months—ever since
Col. Fairfield’s death had left them
comparatively peuniless; but now
that it had actually come, by means
of a newspaper advertisement that
Martha had valiantly answered, she
felt a vague sense of coming danger
and misfortune, which was inexplica¬
ble even to herself.
A long, loving embrace—a tearful
parting—and the moment, so long
dreaded by both, was over; and the
future had begun for Martha.
The first page of the volume was
simple enough—a long, wearisome
journey by rail, a lumbering coach
ride afterwards, into the very heart of
tlie Welsh mountains. And as the
purplish tinges of twilight were be¬
ginning to settle down iu the gorges,
the coach stopped.
“Cross-road for Campington Hall!”
called out tho driver, hoarsely.
“Now, then, miss, look alive; there’s
a carriage waitin’.”
“Miss Fairfield?” said tho chariot¬
eer of this labor equipago, respectfully
touching his hat. “Please, miss, Dr.
Campington scut me down here to
meet you.”
“Dr. Campington!” Martha re¬
peated, “Oh to bo sure?” ns it flashed
upon her mind that Dr. Campiugton
must be tlie medical attendant of her
invalid patroness. “Is it far?”
“No, miss—a matter of two miles
or more”
“Two miles!” Martha leaned
wearily back in the oarriage, and drew
down her veil to conceal the drops that
stood in her eves.
It was a sad and desolate ride, spite
of the sublime scenery, that spread it¬
self, like a panorama, on either side
of her; and Martha Fairfield could not
but rejoice when the man said:
“There’s the Hall, miss.”
It was a spacious aud rather gloomy
looking structure, standing on a
height, with a terraced walk extend¬
ing along its whole front.
“What a large house!” she ex¬
claimed.
“Yes, miss, it is large,” said the
driver. “We’ve had fifty patients
there at a time.”
Again Martha stared, aiid again her
read wit suggested a solution of the
difficulty. Was it not possible that
this lady for whom her services were
SPRING PLACE. GA.. THURSDAY. APRIL 2, 1891.
secured wu au inmate of a “Water
Cure,” or “Hygeian Home,” or some
rctroat for the ailing?
“Miss Fairfield,” spoke a cheerful
voice. “Pray let me assist you to
alight. I am Dr. Campington.”
And a tall middle-aged, handsome
geutleman advanced down the steps—
a gentleman with a high, Shakespear¬
ian brow, and mustache slightly
grizzled—who led the way into a pret¬
ty octagon study, or reception room,
with a red carpet, critnsou curtains
aud walls lined with books, whose
gilded bindings reflected the cheery
blaze of a good fire.
“Pray be seated, Miss Fairfield,” he
said. “The servants will bring you
some tea di-ectly; and when you are a
little rested and refreshed, my house¬
keeper, Mrs. Bland, will show you to
your room.”
And he left the apartment before
3fartha could ask the eager questions
which were trembling ou her lips.
Presently a maid came in with a
tray containing cold fowl,ham,French
roils, and a small china pot of frag,
rant tea; and whilo Martha was enjoy¬
ing her repast with the apetito of
eighteen, a tap came to the door, and
a tall, slight girl, all in white, with a
wreath of flowers in her hair, glided
in.
“May I come in ? We were all for¬
bidden to disturb you; but I knew you
wouldn’t mind me.”
Martha looked admiringly at her
soft, brown eyes, and tho mass of
golden brown hair that flowed down
over her shoulders.
“Do you live here?” asked sbo.
“I stay here,” said the girl, until he
comes after me.”
“Until who comes?”
“Hamlet, Princo of Denmark.
Don’t you know.” she said impatient¬
ly, “I am Ophelia? Ah, you may
well look surprised. People think I
am dead, but here I ain, you see. And
Hamlet loves me through it all. He
will come; I am suio he will come.
You have arrived from the world,” she
cried suddenly. “Perhaps you have
seen him—my Ilamlet?”
A cold thrill of terror shot along
Martha Fairfield’s nerves. Was the
fair young girl crazy?
At the same minute a servant, in a
mob cap and plain gray stuff gown,
entered.
“3Iiss Ophelia,” cried she, “How
ever came you here ? Come away di¬
rectly, miss, or I’ll call tbo doctor."
Tlie girl shrugged her shoulders im¬
patiently.
“I am not afraid of the doctor,”
said she. “He is always kind to me.
Besides, he knows that his position as
court physician depends entirely upon
my good word with the King.”
“Come away, miss, dear,” coaxed
the woman. “You must get to bed
early, you know, or you won’t be
fresh when he comes, as may be he’ll
do tomorrow morning.”
“That is true,” said the girl, her
dark, sleepy eyes lighting up. “Yes,
Hester, yes, I will come.”
And kissing her hand to Martha,
with a gay gesture of farewell, she
skipped away after the maid.
Martha followed her to the door,
and there, pacing up and down the
wide passage, by the light of a sus¬
pended lamp, was a silver-haired wo¬
man, with a large wax doll in her
arms, over which she bent her head,
making au inarticulate cooing sound
as she walked.
“Who is that?” she asked of the
woman who was leading tho passivo
“Ophelia” away.
< i It’s Mrs. Jessup. Poor thing!”
She added, in an undertone, “she
thinks that’s her baby as died and was
buried thirteen good year ago. There
comes the doctor now.”
As Dr. Campington entered ilartha
Fairfield confronted him with a pale
face.
“Sir,” said she, wildly, “what place
is this you have brought me to? A—
mad house?”
He sat quietly down, beckoning her
to an opposite chair with an air of
quiet authority that she found it im¬
possible to resist.
“You are quite l’ight,” said he. “It
is what the world calls a mad house,
but we, who are wiser in the history
of moral and mental disease,term it a
Sanitary Retreat.”
“But yon have deceived mo. You
advertised for a companion to an in¬
valid.”
“Have we not many invalids here?”
Dr Caimfineton asked with a smile.
“I put it to your own reason and good
sense how many answers wo should
get to au advertisement worded thus:
‘Wanted—A Keeper in a Madhouse.
Now, Miss Fairfield, I see protest
and refusal in your eyes. But take
time to reflect. Your duties will bo
light, merely the supervision and com¬
panionship of the two or three refiued
and delicate invalids who cannot bo
entrusted to the coarse and uncul"
tured attention of menials—your sala¬
ry double what was mentioned in the
advertisement. I will await your de¬
cision tomorrow morning in this apart¬
ment. Betsy,” to the little maid who
hal brought the tea, “Show Miss
Fairfield to her room.”
And in a large and airy apartment,
with casements which overlooked the
mountain slopes, Martha Fairfield sat
down to decide.
There was something in Dr. Camp
ington’s calm eyo and calmer words,
that reassured her—the “Madhouse”
seeming uo longer to possess terror in
her sight.
“We have outgrown the supersti¬
tious age of the world,” she told her
seff; “and 1, in particlar, havoahvays
prided myself on my strength of mind.
I have—a mission—three hundred a
year. With that sum I could givo dear
mamma even luxuries. Yes, I will
stay.”
“Well, which is it to be—Yes or
No?” Dr. Campington asked on the
morrow, when 3Iartha met him, with
clear, violet eyes and looks of quiet
resolve.
“Yes.”
“I thought so. In fact, I knew it,”
lie said, laughing, “For I am rather
a physiognomist in my way, and I
read your face yesterday.”
And 3fartha stayed at Campington
Hall; but she never wrote to her
mother that she was in a—madhouse!
At the end of the quarter Dr. Camp
ington paid her £75.
“Well,” said lie, “have you found
it very hard work?”
Martha smilingly shook her head.
“On the contrary,” said she, “1
like it. Ophelia is one of tho sweet¬
est girls and best companions I ever
knew, when she can forget her one
delusion; and”—
“Yes,” said Dr. Campington, “and
they all like you. So do I.”
Martha smiled and colored. Dr.
Campington watched her face intently.
“Alias, Fairfield,” said ho, “you
have never asked me what nearly
every one else does—why I do not
marry?”
“Because,” said Martha, “I can im¬
agine the reason. -Your standard is
high—you never yet have met the
woman to realize it.”
“You are wrong, then, Martha,”
said he. “I have met her. She stands
before me now. Alarlha, I may as
well confess tho truth—I have allowed
myself to full in love with you, hard
headed, hard-hearted man of medicine
though I am. Will you become my
wife?”
And Martha Fairfield answered,
“Yes; I will.”
Gracious, graceful and gently she
presides over Campington Hall, tho
sweetest and happiest of young wives ’
proud in her husband’s marvellous
power of doing good; proud in her
mother’s happiuess; still pronder of
her own success in soothing the jarred
natures of those in whose minds Rea¬
son sits unsteadily.
“I used to long for a mission,”
Martha says. “I have found it now."
Wave Power.
Only a small portion of the world’s
energy exists in coal, and our indus¬
tries have iu reserve the power of the
sunbeams, of the tide and of the waves.
Even tho last might suffice for man’s
necessities, a rolling wave twenty feet
high exerting a force of about one ton
to tlie square foot. The average force
of ocean waves has been estimated to
be 611 pounds per square foot during
summer and 2086 pounds during the
winter months. A force of 6983
pounds has neon known during a heavy
gale.— [Sturdy Oak.
What a Minute Holds.
In a minute, overall the world, about
eighty new-born infants ha vs each
raised a wail of protest, as if against
thrusting existence upon them; while
as many more human beings, weary
with the struggle of life, have opened
their lips to utter their last sigh.—
fBoston Globe.
CURIOUS CLAIMS.
Queer Reasons for Asking for a
Share of the Pension Fund.
The Oddity of Human Nature
Aptly Illustrated.
The oddity of human nature has
found an apt illustration in some of
the many claims for pension that have
been received iu.5ar the law. Many
men well hi^ 3 stretched their consciences their imaginations in
as as their ef¬
forts to be placed on Uncle Sam’s
great and rapidly growing pension
roll. They allege every disease and
ailment known to the science of med¬
icine, and then urge tho claims with
energetic persistency. Some of the
causes alleged are as odd as they are
interesting. An ex-soldier in Ohio
wrote:
“I don’t exactly know what disease
I am suffering from, but I do know
that I deserve a pension, as I am
suffering the pains of death all over
my body.”
Another veteran in West Virginia
thinks he should receive a pension be¬
cause, as ho states it, during the war
he fell off a thirty-foot bridge which
resulted in “a general breaking up of
his system.” A veteran of the Fourth
Wisconsin was salivated by reason of
an excessive use of salt pork during
his army career, and now he applies
for a pension because lie “got salva
tion in the army,” as lie puts it.
Under the provisions of tho recently
passed dependent pension law it is
only necessary for a claimant to show
Hint lie incapacitated from manual
labor, whether the causes are due to
army service or not, in order to in., o
his uamo placed on the rolls. To
show his inability to perform manual
labor, the affidavits of neighbors are
necessary reciting that fact.
A veteran in Howard county, Mil.,
sent (ho testimony of a neighbor, who
no doubt meant well enough, but did
not know bow to express himself. The
latter swore to the statement that he
had known the claimant for ten years,
and that “he would not work unless
he was compelled to.” Tho witness
of course meant to say that claimant,
while really unable to work by reason
of his physical infirmities, was fre¬
quently compelled to attempt labor in
order to sustain liimself.
The widow of a man who shouldered
n musket in the Pennsylvania Reserves
wanted a pension, and was asked if
her husband was ever wounded.
“Oh, yes,” she replied, “he received
an axe wound of the right foot.”
Being askod to explain the circum¬
stances surrounding tho wounding of
her better half, she said lie cut liis
foot while splitting wood. It was not
during the war that this occurred, but
in 1879, at their home in Pennsylva¬
nia. The pension attorney wanted to
know what bearing such on occur¬
rence could have upon the pension law,
and the widow answoied curtly:
“Well, sir, the axe ho cut his foot
with is the same one ho brought home
with him from the war. It was an
army axe.”
A rather remarkable declaration was
made by a Michigan veteran. He
stated under oatli that he picked up a
shell on the battlefield of the Wilder¬
ness and took it into his tent. While
holding the missile between his knees
examining it, the shell exploded,
“badly shattering his nervous system,”
but miraculously causing no other in¬
jury.
An ex-cannonier of one of the reg¬
ular batteries claims that he stopped
a cannon ball with his abdomen, and
has since been greatly troubled with
Btomachic disorders. The ball, he
Bays, was a spent one, and came bound¬
ing along, striking him squarely on
the exterior of the inner man and
nearly knocking him into the middle
of the following week.
One Gioranna, a member • of the
well-known Garibaldi Guard, recites
in his application for pension that lie
was “probed” by a rebel bayonet at tho
Bull Run fight, and a Jersey cavalry¬
man says he was “severed” by a rebel
sabre at Spottsylvania Court House.
These are only a few of the queer
causes for pension that are daily re¬
ceived at tho department. There are
thousands of others equally queer.-—
[Washington Post.
A figure of speech: Money talks.
VoL XL. New Series. NO. 9
Pass and the Sunfish.
Some yejtra ago I was wandering
through an aquarium store in New
\ork to see what there was out of the
ordinary run, when the proprietor
said that he had one specimen that lie
would give mo if I would take him
away. “There he is,” and pointing
to a tank I saw a beautiful sunfish,
colored with his gold, blue and bronze
tints, really a most attractive fellow.
“That fish is a terror,” continued
the man, “a bully and a cannibal. I
can’t do anything with him. He has
thrashed and killed every lish I have
put in there, driven out a big turtle,
and is now occupying a tank alone
that might hold one hundred lish.”
As tho fish was evidently a charac¬
ter I made up my mind to take him,
and a few days later he was domi¬
ciled in a south window in my homo
and the sole occupant of a good, largo
aquarium. I believe tho little fellow
was not familiar with the word fear;
he was a warrior and always ready
for the fray. When I approached, in¬
stead of running away he darted to
meet my hand, and even a shadow
against the tank was sufficient to
his dorsal fins to stand erect. Ho
soon learned to feed from my hand,
and then to leap from the water after
flics which I held over it, and some of
the jumps would send him almost clear
of his native element. When I thrust
my fingers into the water Jack, as he
was called, would dart at them audim
mediately assume that it was some
enemy; so I fell into the habit of
teasing and allowing him to miss my
fingers; and from day to day he be¬
came more vicious until he was the in¬
carnation of ill temper.
Tills state of mind was one day the
cause of an amusing occurrence. A
pet cat had come into the room, and
seeing tho water and feeling thirsty,
she deftly sprang upon the rim of tho
aquarium, and stooping down began
lapping the water. Hardly had her
red tongue touched it than something
bright shot up from the bottom of the
tank. A wail of terror. Puss lost
her balance and fell into tho tank with
a tremendous splash, then scrambled
out and fled from tho room, her mind
in a whirl of fear ami terror. The fish
had espied the tempting red tongue
and seized it, so alarming and aston¬
ishing puss that she fell in. This fish
I consider to have been more than or¬
dinarily intelligent, and probably ho
could have been taught many tricks
had he not succumbed to an accident.
— [Sau Francisco Chronicle.
The Love of Drugs.
It is an innate idea of the English
and American mind that there must
perforce be some drug adapted to tho
ever-varying states of the body which
contains it. So many disorders, so
many remedies. The faith that never
wavers that Nature lias a panacea for
every ill is touching to witness, and
seems to flourish in an age of scienco
and skepticism as vigorously as in tho
past. Americans especially exhibit a
robust form of this faith. American
girls, it is said, now carry about with
them ornamental cut-glass bottles con¬
taining quinine pills, with which they
dose themselves from time to time. If
fatigued, they take two pills; if chilly,
one; if hungry (as they generally seem
to be), four or five. We believe that
ten is the correct dose for wet feet.
The quinine bottle is equal to every
emergency, and produced on all occa¬
sions. We are glad it is no worse
than quinine; at one time it used to bo
morphine and strychnine pellots; it
might even now be ether.—[British
Medical Journal.
i . Milk Yielding Trees.
Tin eke are a number of very differ
ent kinds of trees which have received
or are known locally as cow or milk
yielding trees, hut wo very much
doubt if any of them would thrive in
northern Florida. The one native of
Venezuela is probably the best known,
and was first described by Humboldt,
who says the milky juice of the tree is
extensively used by the natives.
There is another—but belonging to a
different genus of trees—found iu
British Guiana, and another in the
countries of the Rio-Ncgro, while the
fourth is known as the cow tree of
Para, South America. Of the latter
you would probably not find it diffi¬
cult to obtain seed, for the fruit, which
is about the size of an apple, is plenti¬
ful iu the markets of Para.—[New
York Sun.
Good Night.
“Good nightthe trembling lashes fell
And softly kissed her satin cheek;
He felt her beauty’s magic spell—
•‘Good night,” was all he dared to speak.
And yet her manner had been kind,
Her eves had beamed with friendly light;
But he no further speech could find
Than those two simple words, “Good
night.”
But he hail softly pressed her hand,
And met with his her glance, half sby.
And thought, "She'll surely understand
The language of Uie hand and eye.”
And as he homeward took his way
W ith this bright hope his heart was fight:
“I may not always need to say
The parting words to her- -Good night.”
— r -latte Cod Item.
HUMOROUS.
Tho loafer may never get rich, but
he always has a corner on tho street.
There is no activity in business cir¬
cles superior to that of the buzz
saw.
Never loan your watch to a musi¬
cian ; it is a part of his training to
keep time.
The man with rheumatism has no
patience with the giddy young folks
who dance.
There is a great deal of beating about
the bush when the nurseryman’s agent
comes round.
It is queer about society: The min¬
ute a man gets asked into it ho expects
to get asked out.
Peddlers cannot be said to bo pop¬
ular, and yet many of them carry
everything before them.
Julius—Oh, if you’d only love me
as warmly as I do you! Nellie—We
would both be cremated, I fear.”
There are many people in tho world
who laugh all the way home and stf 1
as soon as they reach their fro I
door.
A mule would rather hoar hiins'i
bray than to listen to anybody f \ V
music. A good many people are
like him.
Nature has provided that all things
must grow up. Perhaps this will ex¬
plain why beardless (lodes cannot
grow “down.”
That New York boy who was graft¬
ed to a dog’s leg by llie surgeons
should hasten to take something to
keep the bark oil.
Was Ilamlet mad? He probably
would have been if he could have wit¬
nessed some of the modern impersona¬
tions of his character.
First Street-Car Horse—Liston to
my tale of woel Second Street-Car
Horse—I’d rather listen to the
driver’s tale of ‘Whoal’
Literary Aspirant—I’m about dis¬
couraged. Everybody laughs at nay
writings. Philosophical Friend—Why
don’t you turn humorist.
Tramp—Can yer give a feller a
scrap of suthin’? Lady (calling her
190-pound son)—Yes, sir. Johu will
givo you all the scraps you want.
!, I tell you,” said Koots, “there’s
an indescribable sense of luxury in
lying in bed and tinging one’s bell for
his valet.” “Yougot a valet?” “No;
but I’ve got a bell.”
"I took 31 r. Goslin’s measure the
first time I saw him,” remarked Mrs,
Bleecker. “Yes,” replied Miss Beacon
Street, of Boston; “Ids dimensions
can bo approximated very readily.”
Debtor (to angry creditor)—But,
Sir, I have no money and cannot settle
your bill I You cannot get blood out
of a turnip, can you? Creditor—No,
sir, but I will get blood out of a beat
if that bill isn’t settled pretty soon.”
Of old, the tailor made the man,
But now his aid we summon
To work on more extensive pian—
He also makes the woman!
Thirteen Health Rales.
The thirteen rules for the mainten
ance of health which have just been
circulated in all the military stations
in India, by order of the commander
in chief, are so generally applicable as
to be worthy of circulation iu every
home in America. The warnings that
less meat and more fruit and vegeta¬
bles would be more conducive to
health, that spirits should bo eschewed,
that sleep should be taken before, not
after, meals, that the value of wearing
flannel, even in hot weather, cannot be
estimated too highly, are commonseuse
ones, which many people in America,
as well as iu India, might take H tb
heart with advantage.— [CommeVcial
Advertiser.