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[For The Sunny South.] “IF! M BY LILLIAN BOZELL MESSENGER. The violets I send to you. With their soft eyes so meekly bending In modest sweetnesses unending, Will whisper most of Paradise When them you kiss in fond replies,— Will say the heavens are always blue If love be true! if love be true! Wrong is betrayed by a little sin,— No need of deeper crime; so in A first frail gift the loving may A high soul’s destiny convey; And passion true be known as much By gentle deed and tender touch; A little flow’r be symbol, sign Of that instinct truly divine That gives and gives before ’tis due, If love be true! if love be true! The little prayer I said for you, That floated out on violet wings Softer than roses* twilight brings Between the sunset and the sea— That angels named Felicity— Will ope the cold dark door and roll The stone away from your dim soul; Whence you will come to find instead Your higher self-peace wept as dead, And angels by, you never knew, If love be true! if love be true! The deathless love I gave to you, And that which never came to me; The smile I sought and could not see; The word my soul leaned out to hear, And failing, died of stifling fear,— (When stinging jest and scorning fell About my heart’s shut paradise, As blight from fading flow’rs of hell When Kvil’B shadow on them lies); May form the halo of that crown Worn in full blaze of Heaven's renown When all's forgot or lost, save you And love, if love be only true! OUR PORTRAIT GALLERY. such a prodigy of vice and meanness, that to de scribe him would sicken imagination and ex haust invective. “In Scotland, years ago, there was a man whose trade was murder and who earned his livelihood by selling the bodies of his victims for gold. He linked his name to his crime, and to-day throughout the world it is known as ‘Burking.’” The Speaker.—“Does the Chair understand the gentlemen to be referring in this language to a member of the House?” Mr. Brown.—“lam describing an individual who is in mv mind's eve.” [For The Sunny South.) PEASANT POETS OF SCOTLAND. ROBERT TAW’AIULL. BY PICCIOEA. The Speaker.— “The Chair understood the gen tleman te refer to a member of the House.” _ Mr. Brown.—“I call no names. This man’s music and flowers, or they are coarse, ignorant name was linked to his crime, and to-day and vindictive. They are never clever, and throughout the world it is known as ‘Burking.’ always say, “Yes, I thank you,” when they are If I wished to describe all that was pusillani- courted. If he had done as fair justice to the mous in war, inhuman in peace, forbidden in female sex as he did his own, in the characters morals and infamous in politics, I should call it of David Copperfield, Nicholas Xickleby, or the ‘Butlerism. ’ ” inimitable Sam Weller, it would have enshrined image, the real one does not escape the eye. If She understood the chemistry of the kitchen as enamored of the shadow on the water, still we well as she did the flowers of rhetoric. Neatness look around and discover the image it reflects, and system were so much a part of Charlotte When we read the story of Ivanhoe, our admira- Bronte’s being, that during her conversation tion for the handsome and chivalrous knight with a guest, if any article or furniture stood grows and intensifies to the end; but because awry, she would stop, immediately straighten it we love and admire this hero of romance, does and then proceed with conversation. She always parity of reasoning show that we must go about found time to pare the potatoes and shell the Robert Tannahill was born on the third of the world trying to find one like him ? peas for old Tabby. Mary Sommerville, a pro- June. 1774. in Paisley, Scotland; but as he was The Mrs. Jellabys of this world lived more in found philosopher and one of the most remark- so little appreciated, very little has been written the imagination of Mr. Dickens than they did in able women that ever lived, was so fastidious about him. Some portion of his early life, haw- : reality. En passant, as much as we revere his that she would not have a cook. She could ever, must have been spent in Craigie, which genius, we have very little to thank him for in write syllogisms while the ham was boiling. 1 lies to the northwest of Paisley; for in the sweet his pictures of women. They can manage a key- Let the oracular words of Rousseau and much i song of “Thou Bonnie Wood o’ Craigie-Lea,” he i basket or tie up a cut finger with ease. They of the cant of*the day be refuted by conscien- : thus alludes to the beautiful scenery of that sec- are either sweet and pretty, filling life with tious effort and modesty of claim; and whilst tion; genius is even rarer than honesty, a few of our women may at least be able to add something to the quota of thought and intelligence. BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH or HON. JOHN YOUNG BROWN. “ Old Kentucky ” is a familiar expression-in every American home, and with the fame of the grand old State are linked some of the most illustrious names of the nation. From the days of the immortal Boone, the whole record of the ! State has been such as to endear it to every American heart, and with one accord the great public have united in ascribing to its people the truest nobility. The spirit of Clay seems ever ; to have hovered over the noble commonwealth, and the impress of his exalted patriotism and ineffable majesty of character seem conspicuous in the tone, temper and genius of the people, j It is pleasing to contemplate such a record and | to run with delightsome memory over the bril- ! liant biographies of the illustrious names which Tlie Speaker.—“ The Chair thinks the gentle- the State has given to American history. In man from Kentucky did not reply in good faith bold relief upon the fadeless record stands the to the question put to him. The Chair regards most distinguished name, perhaps, of which j fromW ■ America will ever boast. In the coming ages it j/r. Brown.—‘‘The Chair had no right to an- will loom up yet more brightly, and should the j ticipate what I had to say.” American Republic decay and* totter to its fall, At tbe conclusion of his speech,.a resolution the glory of Henry Clay will linger like a sun- ? f _ CeDSUre W “, offere d for using such severity of [For The Sunnv South.) “When Doctors Disagree, Who Shall Decide ?” BY BURTON’. I have never arrived at a conclusion in my life. ‘Thou bonnie wood of Craigie-Lea! Near thee I pass'd life's early day. And won my Mary's heart in thee. The broom, the briar, the birken bush, Bloom bonnie o'er thy flowery lea; And a' the sweets that ane can wish Frae nature's hand are strew'd on thee. Far ben thy dark.green plantin's shade, The cushat croodles am'rously; The mavis down thy bughted glade. Gars echo ring frae ev'ry tree.” j It is said that this scenery, which the poet has 1 so well described, has been ruined by the erec tion of a most unpoetical object—a gas work. Alas, for the changes of time!—ntilizalion has In my self-reproachings for that fact, mingled often made sad encroachments op. tip) beauties with regrets when conclusions are desirable, I am consoled by reading of a certain great man, that “his varied and profound wisdom, added to his remarkable powers of nice discrimination, were the probable causes of his being almost without an opinion on the many questions whose pros and cons agitate smaller minds.” But even now I am in doubt whether I am ‘ ‘ the great man” or the small mind. If I were an infidel, I would as soon wish to | pluck the sun from his sphere as to unsettle a man in regard to the creed on which he has of nature. Tannahill's father was a silk gauze weaver, and Robert received only an ordinary educa tion, and when very young, assisted his father in weaving. Even while at school he wrote verses. Owing to a weakness in one of his limbs, he was prevented from joining in the sports of his school-mates, and composed riddles in rhyme for their amusement He was not only a poet, but a musician, and to his loom was at tached a rude desk, on which it is said he wrote down at intervals old melodies he had heard, beam over its ruins. Kentucky is justly proud of that name and of such other names as Critten den, Breckinridge, Sidney Johnson, Prentice, Morgan, and hosts of others, and to the proud list is now added another which will live in the heart of the nation. At a very early age, John Young Brown dis language in debate towards a member, and the excitement ran high. Many able speeches were made on the resolution by the most distin guished members, and it was at last, amid in tense feeling, put to a vote, when 161 favored it, 79 opposed it, and 49 refused to vote. Mr. Brown was asked by the Speaker what he had to say, when he replied that “ he stood by the record.” He has been re-elected to the Forty-fourth him in the memory of many a woman as con scious of the defects of her sex as she is tena cious of their virtues. His picture of Mrs. Jel- plaved extraordinary talent and remarkable pow- “ as beon re-elected to the Torty-tourth ers of oratory, and even while a college boy, he , Congress and will make a brilliant member, occasionally appeared upon the hustings and °° ly ^ tort -' A’ 011 ™ of ag f e and re P re : addressed the people with stirring eloquence on ae “ ta °? e ol the wealthiest const the political issues of the day. The mantle of Hm popularity at home Kentucky’s great orator seemed to have fallen and tbls recent defense ot tbe 530111 [For The Sunuy South.) LITERARY WOMEN AS DOMES TIC CHARACTERS. BY CAROLINE MARSDALE. sents one of the wealthiest constituencies of is immense, South has made upon him, aid when he had entered public life bil “ P°P« lar in a11 tbo Southern he soon wielded an irresistible power over »*tes. Hls nanie ™ llbvo a “ ong tbe lllustrl - the masses, electrifying them by the Atlantic ous men ot grand old Kentucky, sweep of his oratory. So great was his popu larity that at a very early age he was nominated for Congress on the Democratic ticket in opposi tion to the Hon. Joshua H. Jewett, an old mem ber who had served the district with honor and fidelity. When his name was proposed he, with characteristic manliness, informed the conven tion that he was not old enough to be admitted if he should be elected, and declined the nomi nation: but he was nevertheless nominated and It i s the oft-quoted and selfish philosophy ol elected by a handsome majority, but could not Rousseau that “the glory of woman lies in being take his seat at the first- session on account of unknown,” an oracle, like many other oracles, his age. At the second session he attained the , . .. .. requisite age, and was sworn in and served as a llable to exceptions. While women generally member of the Thirty-sixth Congress. He was consult their true dignity and happiness by faithful and unassuming, and though his record seeking a quiet, domestic career, we still maintain \\as not marked In anything specially striking, tEnt there are such among them that have en- lt was satisfactory to his constituency and he , .... . , . was re-elected to the Fortieth Congress after the dowments suited to exert a happy influence over war, but was prevented from biking his seat by mankind at large, and are only fulfilling their political disabilities, and his district was unrep- duty and destiny by giving them scope. Some resented. . women are created to preside over the nursery, In 1872, his disabilities having been removed, 5" he was again brought out as a candidate for the lbe dairy and the kitchen; there are others Forty-third Congress, and was elected by ten whose spirits burst with music and poetry like thousand majority; and during the last session the -Folian string that gives forth its unbidden of that term, which has recently closed, rendered T , • , . I-.- v. melody only because trod made it so. It is of himsell forever famous in American politics bv J laby is too much of a caricature. We go into her br ' n J?, s lbe ccdd cbl H s over me in August, study, fipd her clad in a loose, seeled wrapper, ; ./'^ bo ? se a country-reared girl, says yet an- with slip-shod shoes and untidy room, seated at 1 ? lb ®f’ ? ne wbose P 0Te *Jy bas trained her into her desk in an inky wilderness of papers and babll f °f economy. Oh, lemons . how Mr. communications of various lengths—a corres- Asa “ . ® twelve-hundred salary does dwindle pondence relative to the civilization of Barrio- to appoint by the diminishing process of Mrs. boola-Gha-all given over to the affairs of the Asas dry-goods accounts, though her “second public and Africa. Her house is encrusted with * J s was lbe only silk dress she ever owned dirt, the bright sun shines in dimly through the j be tore marriage. I know that kind of logic de windows on neglected, sour-tempered children, clded b 's choosing, hut the syllogism took the sockless, hatless and strangers to soap. But the j rheumatism before it got as far as the “there- large, brown eyes of Mrs. Jellaby are looking y °—• staked his salvation. AA hatever is on the side I arranging them to suitable, words. While the ot religion and virtue I let alone, there being j humble weaver sat busily toiling day after day, enough bad things in the world to mend. It is ) le was living two lives. Fancy sat at the loom only in the minor points ol belief, which some i 0 f tfig poet’s inner life, and wielding her mag- hold to dogmatism, that I am even inclined to j j ca ) shuttle, wove the texture with whose gossa- be iconoclastic. Indecision is the bane of my existence,—and I must confess to a wicked desire to tilt a hobby when it seems ridden securely. For instance, j when one tells me that “immersion is the only | mode,” I think the only argument he needs is, ‘ “Why do not all learned theologians accept it?” Who said, “ In your strongest trust, keep just one thread of doubt”? Oh, if I could keep just one thread of trust in my strongest doubt! I am a marrying man; hut shall my locks become silvered o’er and my form bent with oc togenarian infirmities, ere I cast anchor in cer tainty ? How can I decide on Miss Estramadura, when fifty doubts torture my mind whether Miss Clementina will not do better? They tell me “after Piety choose Amiability.” Well, there’s my noble friend Ben, who hung bis happiness—no, his chances for it — on that peg, and yet his wife’s sweetness of temper, never ruffled by unkempt children, an untidy house, or soggy bread, must have something to do with his so often saying to me: “Burton, you ought to be a happy fellow.” I never accept his invitations to dine, that I do not fly into terror from a trust in amiability, as the “sine-qua-non” of conjugal felicity. But advises another: “Find a woman who has a will of her own; avoid milk and cider when mixed. Spirits is as much needed in women as in men.” But here comes a tilt to that end of the beam. I have it on good authority that when Mr. John Hayden does not feel inclined to attend an evening party, Mrs. John Hayden appears unattended. That’s energy—the kind which over into poor, benighted Africa. She does not see that Peepy’s hair hasn’t been combed for a week, or that the peevish child has made a cal endar of his bare legs by writing down his afflic- tions on them, his mother having consumed all the paper in the house. The commiserated hus band, who is a merchant, comes home to a lunch of cold potatoes. He generally groaned, but was unexceptionably amiable. Sometimes he got milk, sometimes the cat. got it. If two of the children had been stolen, she would not have missed them, so engrossed was she in Barrio- boolan documents and holding interviews by ap pointment. Whilst this is an amusing satire, the truth is, no sane woman will so far lose her sense of duty as to become such a nonenity. Nevertheless, Leave oft’ a little of the high coloring of Mr. Dick ens’ pen, and you have the picture as the world generally accepts it. Domestic discord that is often found in fami lies where the wife is given to literary pursuits, infallibly proceeds from the fact that she is a lit erary character, and consequently brings misery My venerable Aunt Alathy’s certainty in the marriage guide is domesticity in a wife. She is constantly pointing to Rainey Rosser as an ex ample. Sis Sue tells me she has herself heard Miss Rainey declare that she “guesses she has done up her work for life in a family of ten, and when she is married she guesses again she’ll have an easy time, costand come to what it may.” “Hedge” has had it his way for a long time; won’t some one else invent a bran-new logic ? And now to close my presentation of facts (very “ stubborn ones”—but I never argue from any other daUi), there is our near neighbor, sweet Mrs. Ethridge, who is ashamed to have it to say that she never swept and dusted a room or turned a cake before she was a Mrs., and yet she is accorded the best housekeeper in our village — her own little white hands doing a large part of her honse-work and all her sewing. Gay belles chrysalis into domestic wives and rustic Maud Mullers into married belles; and Pyrrhonism, I fear, is going to be the sea of doubt in which my barque will go down delivering in his most impassioned style the most scathing invective ever uttered, perhaps, on the floor of Congress. General Butler, the “Essex statesman," with the blustering arro gance peculiar to bimaelf, had refused in the most discourteous manner to give Young Brown a showing on the floor, and indulged his charac teristic spleen towards the Southern people. The usually mild and equable temper of the elo quent young Kentuckian was intensely aroused, and he awaited his opportunity. On the follow ing day the scene presented in the House was a grand one. The galleries were crowded with the beauty and intelligence of the gay capital. The lower floor was filled with busy members and privileged characters, all excited on the Civil Rights question. Young Brown arose, and with his handsome, youthful face all aglow with excitement, became the cynosure of all eyes. His thrilling eloquence soon enchained the vast throng and hushed the Babel confusion which this class that we would speak—their habits and with what sympathy they were regarded by the opposite sex. We hear so much said and see so much writ ten about the character and habits of literary women, that it has almost passed into a proverb— to be a literary character is to be ignorant and neglectful of domestic affairs. Men look upon them as superfluous existences crowding the canvass of life without adequate effect. They picture a literary wife as one who is holding such high converse with the muses as not to know how potatoes are boiled. To have a liter ary wife is to eat sour hread and wear undarned socks. They are looked upon as people who live in cloud-land—perpetually dreaming and never knowing any fruition—utterly wanting in that unromantic faculty called common sense. Her eager chase of the glittering mirage ends in fretfulness and disappointment, and she has not Young ladies, what are you ?—who are you?— where are you ?—and why don’t you label your selves ? I pause for a reply. “WHAT’S THE NEWS?” though . ( barque ne’er before was freighted with more hon- and confusion to her house; whilst the 8 husband j esl d ® slre I® 1 b »ven out of the engulphing is invariably true to the family interest, wears mae stronl 0 uncertainties, his amiability as a crown of righteousness and bites his lips in impotent silence. Poor fellow ! I he plays a subordinate part by her side. She has a depth of insight that looks through and j through the shallow theories of philosophers, j and her superior instincts are a sort of dial by j which men have only to set their clocks and ■ watches and all will go well. She can read the All the axes and buck-saws found in the ruins Scriptures in their original tongue. Greek and of Pompeii are of light make, as if constructed Hebrew are mere play to her—Sanscrit no more for woman’s use. than A, B, C. She can talk with perfect fluency j The Grand Lodge Independent Order of Good and’exclaimed* eX fl ept Englbdl ' S .° goes the Templars of South Carolina met in Charleston aga i n . Farewell! I shall never see yon more.” satire and so dies the proverb, Live and let on the twenty-seventh ultimo. On a visit to Glasgow, some time after this, he How few, alas ! are there of literary men whose G *°. r g ia Stat £ Teacher f f Association will exhibited symptoms of insanity, and on return- meet in Griffin on Tuesday, the fourth instant, ing home, complained of sickness and retired and remain in session for three days. to his bed. Soon after the bed was found empty, A most heart-rending scene was the drowning ; and bls bod y> 011 being searched for, was found ~- -• - — — - - in a brook near the house. This sad event oc- i gossa mer fineness and sheen his beautiful songs were clothed: “For life is one, and in its warp and woof There runs a thread of gold that glitters fair, And sometimes in the pattern shows most sweet Where there are sombre colors.” The golden and perhaps the only bright thread which glittered in the poor weaver’s sad life was the thread of poesy. In the sunlight of happi ness, genius may slumber, but the voice of sor row seldom fails in awaking it, causing it like a star to shine forth, brightening the darkness of life. As the silken folds fell from his loom, thoughts were being penned upon that rude desk which rivaled the shimmering gauze in brightness, and threw around the sad child of song a poet’s legacy—the mantle of immortality. When he was twenty-nine years old, he became acquainted with R. A. Smith, the musical com poser, who set to music several of his songs. As a writer of song, Tannahill ranks next to Burns, and what was said of his great prototype may be said of him; “His ear was ever attuned to melody—his eye was ever open to beauty, his heart ever alive to pathos; not a bird sang, not a flower bloomed, not a streamlet murmured, but he associated with his own feelings. ” Among the most popular of Scottish melodies are: “The Braes o’ Balquhidder,” “Jessie the Flower o’ Dunblane,” and “Gloomy Winter’s noo Awa” It has been said of Tannahill: “He had the eye of a landscape painter as well as the head of a lyric poet, and his delineations of Scottish scenery in verse rival in poetic feeling the land scape of the late Horatio MacCulloch; while in simple, affectionate and melodious language, his lyrics have not been excelled, not even by Burns himself.” What an exquisite pen-picture is presented in the following lines from “Jessie the Flower o’ Dunblane:” “ The sun has gone down o’er the lofty Ben-Lomond, And left the red clouds to preside o'er the scene; While lonely I stray in the calm simmer gleamin', To muse on sweet Jessie, the flow'r o’ Duublane. How sweet is the briar wi’ its soft fauldin' blossom! And sweet is the birk wi’ its mantle o’ green; Yet sweeter and fairer, and dear to this bosom. Is lovely young Jessie, the flow’r o’ Dunblane.” The origin of “Gloomy Winter’s noo Awa” is given in a letter by R. A. Smith, who was an in timate friend of the poet. Miss •, of , was very fond of the Scottish melody, “Lord Balgownie’s Favorite,” and expressed a desire to see it set to good poetry. The musical composer applied to Tannahill, who composed the song, “Gloomy Winter’s noo Awa.” The young lady was so pleased with the verses that she requested Smith to invite the author to her house; but, owing to the poet’s extreme bashfulness, it was only by strategy that his friend could prevail upon him to go. The magic influence of the music and the kind hospitality of the ladies soon reconciled him to the situation. They were urged to remain to dinner, to which Tannahill yielded a reluctant consent. After a cheerful glass or two, he became more self-possessed and talkative, and went away delighted with his visit. The sentiments which he had entertained, that nothing but pride and cold formality were to be met with in the higher walks of life, were entirely changed. The disappointment and neglect connected with his literary life broke the too sensitive heart of the unhappy poet, and he sank into confirmed dejection. Possessed of all the deli cacy of feeling and tenderness of soul of the Ayrshire plowman, he unfortunately lacked the gayety of temperament and self-confidence of the Ettrick shepherd. Tannahill must have been on intimate terms with Hogg, for we are told of their spending a night together, which afforded the weaver-poet some recreation. He journeyed with the shepherd half way to Glas gow, and when parting, grasped both his hands Farewell! we shall never meet charity and forbearance equal their zeal and in tellectual energy, who would not rather give captious blame and charv praise than a word of _ „ encouragement to the climber. If the nature of of young Mr. Maxwell and Miss Dunwoody, in women is too shallow and feeble a soil to bear Burch’s mill-pond, near Augusta, Georgia, much tillage and only fit for light crops, let gen- A Nebraska druggist got a hoy to take a sniff erositv help her on with these, such as they are. of hartshorn as a joke. Boy kicked over a ker- Few women have equaled men in the depart- osene lamp; kerosene took lire; loss on store, ment of literature. There has been but one thirteen hundred dollars. The druggist is now Mary Sommerville and one Charlotte Bronte; but driving a team. because all cannot be Mary Sommervilles and The Indianapolis Journal says the Tennessee Charlotte Brontes, is it right tor the critic to Legislature has submitted to the people of that think that he is doing a chivalrous duty by rec- state a constitutional amendment providing that ommendmg all women of mediocre faculties to t he Legislature shall meet only once in four abstain from writing ? AV e think not, for it must years. There is a deal of wisdom in the saj'in" be plain to all who look into feminine literature, that the world is governed too much, that its deficiencies are due less to the want of rev. x> , tt , . ..... ., intellectual power than to the possession of H °f e ; ln P] easant llltle ^ those qualities that belong to intellectual excel- ?/ Eulhbort ’ was destroyed by firei recently. But lence-patient diligence, a sense of the responsi- lf , lts dest i uot, f °“ shoold lead to tbe bulldmg of r - - - ° - -■ - 1 a fine brick hotel on that same spot, it will be a curred when the unfortunate poet was only thirty-six years old. The spirit of song is a fearful, even as it is a beautiful gift, for how often does it prove a her itage of woe to the favorites of the mnses! Truly do they “ Learn in suffering what they teach in gong.” throng and hushed the Babel confusion which m mts au pauemuiugente, u sense u LUC responsi- fi brf k h t j that same spot it wi [[ be a ax's ^„e oT „ | h 1 eft«« g ,v el o, h ep„ m ,„ve, m „™, °“ ^ . ™? "-W »»? - «■’. Neapolitan song, not „ b,ter if eonr head be made of butter,- tb«, h„ w ,«, „ e „, h in which a young fisherman has moved his boat defense of the South, every Southern heart swelled with pride at the effective eloquence of *“ the young Demosthenes. With gushing fluency under a rock on the shore. Below the surface and thrilling power he turned to the unparlia mentary “Beast,” who had the day before basely maligned the South, and said: of the water he sees a beautiful face. He imag ines it to be that of a nereid, and casts his net to catch this supposed nymph of the ocean. He only loses the image and brings up a few ugly “Now again that accusation has come from fish. He returns home disappointed and enam- one—I speak not of men but ol language, and ored of the supposed nereid. Again and again within the rules of this House—that accusation fi e goes, but now discovers that it is the reflec- against that people has come from one who is Hon of the face of a mortal girl on the rock close outlawed in his home from respectable society; behind him. whose name is synonymous with falsehood: who This moral of human life is scarcely less false i is the champion, and has been on all occasions, than the story itself. AVe do not go on duped )of fraud: who is the apologist of thieves; who is by an illusion. However deluded by an ideal says a homely proverb, which may mean, let no woman rush into print who is not prepared for consequences. Among the most efficient civilizers of modern times, we find Mrs. Montague—who was more than once a match for Pope—Madam De Stael, Mrs. Sigourney and Mrs. Hemans. Hannah More, by her pen, afforded more efficient protec tion to the three kingdoms against the shock of the French Revolution than the entire army and navy of Great Britain. She was a synonym of “I seethe villain in your face,” said a Western order and neatness. Mrs. Montague lived in judge to a prisoner. “ May it please your the highest style of magnificence, and her apart- honor,” replied the prisoner, “that is a personal ments were kept in order and faultless taste, reflection, sure.” The Brotherhood of Locomotive Engineers have thirty thousand members. If an insured member dies, his widow, children or heirs re ceive three thousand dollars. Since the insur ance company was organized, nearly one million dollars have been paid, the amount last year being over ten thousand dollars. The only' sal aried officers are the grand chief engineer, first grand engineer, and first grand assistant. There is Alexander T. Stewart buried in his great marble mansolenm, which he calls home. It is large enough to put his $40,000,000 or $50,- 000,000 in if each dollar were actually as big as it is in his eyes. His is the costliest, loneliest, dreariest mansion in the whole avenue. It is a monument to his pecuniary success, and to the vanity of money getting. People feel chilly when they walk by it, the shadows it projects being larger and darker than they are from any other house in the street How mast he enjoy it with no one in that magnificent isolation but his aged wife—no chick nor child, not a single per son of his name in all the wide world in whose veins flows his cool, cautions, ever-calculating blood. A Dubuque boy was troubled for fear that'he would not know his father when they both reached heaven, but his mother eased him by remarking: “All you’ll have to do is to look for an angel with a red nose on him.” Why are the girls in Missouri always sweet Because they are Mo. lasses.