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‘Love Laughs at Locksmiths.’
BY MATTIE DYKE BRITTS.
Hillsburg is a pretty little village, somewhere on
the eastern side of the Alleghanies, but I won’t tell
exactly where, and Mollie Dane was one of the
prettiest girls in the village.
At least, so thought Mr. Charley Abbott, and
nothing in the world could have made him so hap
py as to be the owner of one of the neat cottages
on Main Street, in a joint partnership with pretty
Mollie Dane.
Now Charley Abbott was a manly, good-looking
young fellow,'with a frank smile, a clear, bright
eve, and a heart as big as a barn. And as like be
gets like oftener than most folks believe, when he
fell in love with Mollie, she straightway returned
the favor by fal ing in love with him.
It is quite likely that the partnership would have
been speeddy brought about, but Mollie’s mamma
had selected another partner for her fair daughter,
and would not listen to a word about young Ab-
bott.
Mrs. Dane’s choice of a son-in-law was her own
nephew, a rising young doctor, by the name of
Paul Reeves. The Reeves had always been people
of importance. Paul had a competency already,
and at the death of his grandfather he would come
in for a fortune. A better match for her daughter,
surely, thau Charley Abbott, a poor banker’s clerk,
on a thousand a year.
There was one little circumstance of which Mrs.
Dane was not aware—Mr. Paul was not quite free
himself. There was a young lady in the city where
he attended lectures, who had a word to say on that
subject.
Mollie knew it, however, for Paul had a strong,
brotherly friendship for his pretty cousin, and for
Charley Abbott, too; so i hey all three took each
other into confidence, and Paul was the sworn ally
of the lovers.
Mollie was an obedient daughter in general, but
she had a spice of her good mamma's will, and
would not give up Lharley Abbott.
Mrs. Dane would not ptrmit him to visit at the
house, and Mollie was too proud and high-minded
11 appoint clandestine meetings; but there were
many occasions when they ‘met by chance, the
usual way,’ and there were wa ks in the open street,
and several times Charley bravely escorted Mollie
to h< r own door.
Mrs. Dane could not prevent this, except by keep
ing Mollie a pr soner at home. That she did not
care to do. Rut one morning, when, as she sat by
the parlor window, they came walking gayly up
together, and parted at the gate, she could stand it
no longer.
Pretty Mollie came in, smiling and blushing,
well knowing a lecture awaited her, and resolved to
have it over at once.
‘Well, Miss !’ began Mrs. Dane, sitting up very
straight and severe, ‘how much longer is this to go
on •'
‘Is what to go on, mamma ?’ asks Miss Mollie, the
verv pic ure of demure innocence.
‘This disobedience, madam ! This running out
into the street to meet that—that young man V
‘Well, mamma, you won’t let him come here.’
‘That is not an answer to my question, Miss.’
‘Oh ! well—not very long I hope. When he is
your son, you won’t object any longer.’
‘When he is my—whatgasped Mrs. Dane.
‘Your son, mamma. He will be before many
weeks. ’
•You—you—Mary Dane ! You haven’t, you
surely haven’t—’
‘Promised to marry Charley ? Aes, I have,
mamma. I mean to keep my word, too !’ Mollie
turned and faced her mother with the flashing eyes
and firm-set lips which Mrs. Dane knew the mean
ing of very well.
Her own eyes flashed back, as she answered stern
‘ ‘Never ! I’ll see you buried first ! Never, with
mv consent 1’ „
‘With it, 1 hope, mamma. Charley lsconnng to
day to ask you. Rut if you won’t g.ve it, why, we
shall be forced to marry without it, that’s alb’
Mrs. Dane rose to her feet. She was a woman of
few words and quick action.
•He has the audacity to come here for my con
sent. does he V
•Yes, mamma.’
‘Very well. I—I can’t talk upon the subject just
now. I must go up stairs and think awhile, before
I can decide what to do. I am overpowered with
ast onishment. Stay you here, and when I call you,
come up stairs.’
‘Yes, mamma.’
Airs. Dane swept awav, and Mollie waited anx
iously to be called. In a very few minutes her
summons came, and most unsuspiciously she ran
up to her mother in the third story.
She expected to be talked to, but as soon as she
was safe inside the door, Mrs. Dane shut it, locked
it took out the key, and put it in her pocket.
‘There, now !’ she said; ‘I think I shall bring you
to your senses ! In this room you stay. You shall
never leave it until you promise to give this fellow
U *‘Then I shall never leave it!’ returned poor Mol
lie, very pale, but firm and resolute.
•We’ll see ! I fancy a day or two of solitary con
finement will bring you to your senses. And when
your fine lover comes. I’ll show him the door, and
that’s all the answer he’ll get. Now I’ll leave you
to your own reflections.’
Mrs Dane let herself out, locked the door on the
outside and went down-stairs, leaving poor Mollie
completely taken by surprise. Rut what could she
do ' She could not jump from the third story win
dow nor struggle with her mother for the door-
key ’ Her case appeared hopeless, for she had not
even any chance of communicating with her lover,
Airs. Dane allowing no one to come up-stairs but
h 'lTv'tiie end of the second day, Mollie had cried
and fretted herself into such a fever, that Mrs.
Dane felt her.-elf obliged to send for Dr. Paul
1 Dr ^Paul came, looked very grave, prescribed
some medicine, and told Mrs. Dane he thought it
best to look in again before bed-time. And he
made out, when he shook hands with his cousin, to
leave a tiny paper in her soft hand.
The instant the key was turned again upon Mol
lie, she unfolded the scrap of paper, and read
•Dear Mollie: Charley and myself agree in
thinking that desperate cases require desperate
remedies If you are willing to follow our lead,
give me a hint when I return to-night. P.’
Mollie had no writing materials. So she tore a
bit from a blank leaf of a book, and scratched a
few words deeply upon it with a hair-pin. This
she managed to give to Paul when he made his sec-
ond cafi^ui wag stiU ve ry grave. He told Mrs.
D u’e that be was afraid Mollie would have a tough
siege of it unless he could help her at once (and
that was> he truth, too!), and promised to come
again early next morning. , , .
Mollie took her cue from him, and pretended to
be*much sicker than -he really was. So when Dr.
Paul came in the morning, he found her in bed in
her own room on the second floor.
Mrs Dane, much alarmed, had ventured to re
move her there, thinking she would certainly make
no attempt to see Charley Abbott while she was
S < This time Paul brought Mollie another note, and
it read thus:
‘When I come to-night, Charley will be in my
carriage at the door. I will get Aunt Jane out of
the room and you must fly down and make your
escape quickly. Courage, now ! and be all ready.
Moll V was very sick all the morning. In the af
ternoon she thought it prudent to grow better, and
when Airs. Dane brought up a cup of tea at supper-
tune she found Mollie dressed, wrapped in a big
sinwl, and sitting in an easy chair.
i why Mollie, wbat made you get up ?’ she asked.
‘Oli 'mother,’ savs Alollie, ‘you know I never
could bear to lie in bed. Let me sit up awhile, and
I shall rest better to night.’
Mrs Dane did not object, but she menially re
solved to have her go back to the third story in the
‘Throw your shawl over your head—don't stop
for a hat—and run down to Charley. I’ve left the
front door open on purpose. Fly, now, and make
no noise. I’m going to run down and tell aunt on
second thoughts, I have decided to let the mustard
wait till morning. You’ll escape while Pin gone,
you know, so I shall know nothing about it. Re
quick, now !’
Mollie flew down, and Dr. Paul followed, making
a good deal of needless noise, and kept his aunt
nearly five minutes before she remembered that
Alollie was alone.
Then she hurried to her post, but the bird was
flown !
Paul put on an air of such surprised innocence,
and was so indignant at the idea of their running off
with his carriage, that Aunt Jane never was cer
tain as to his complicity.
Rut at last she wisely resolved to endure what
she could not cure, so she forgave Air. and Mrs.
Charley, and now they all live together as happy
and cosy as can be.
Mrs. Greanleafs Boarder.
BY MRS. C. W. BARBER TOWLES.
COMING WOES.
m Dr 1 ^iul came soon, pronounced her better,
sou. ded her lungs, and said he still thought she had
better have mustard applied to her chesL If Aunt
Jane would prepare the poultice herself, to make
sure it was just right, they would apply it at once.
Aunt Jane, not supposing there was any danger
in leavine the patient a few moments in the d< c-
toFs ^rf, walked right into the trap, and went
d °TlMi moment The ^rdown stairs, the sick ^irl
sprang up, crying excitedly, Now, Paul, what f
0, mamma, it isn’t possible you have taken a
boarder ! How horrid ! I know I shall hate him.
AViio did persuade you into taking such a step i’
The speaker, Nelli9 Greenleaf, a pretty, spark
ling brunette, with wavy black hair and a dear lit
tle, insolent retrousse nose, a rose leaf cheek,rosebud
mouth ami roguish grey eyes, asked the question,
while she stood before the mirror one blustering
March morning, tying on her fashionable little hat,
and re-arranging the clustering bangs on her fair,
but rather low fi irehead.
‘No one persuaded me, Nellie. I was pressed into
it by the force of circumstances. We are obliged
to do something, for we can't live on air; money is
wbat we want. Here is a bill a jeweler, who calls
himself Smith, has just sent in. Eleven dollars and
a half! a small sum, but every little takes from
our scanty treasury. See if you know anything
about it. It is so badly written and spelled I can
hardly make out the articles.’
The g rl turned and took the coarse, dirty note
into fingers, delicate as mother-of-pearl, on which
several rings glittered, and began to read:
‘To Christofer Smith, dr.,
April 26, to wok on brespen 25cts.
to repair wach 2.50
(one dooler paid)
to one gole ring 1.5°
Lord gracious ! mamma, I can’t go through all this.
The fellow ought not to be paid, he is such an igno
rant booby, but I dare say the eleven doolers ancl
fifty cents is right, for I bought several things from
him last year. Give me the money and I'll settle it
this morning.’
Mrs. Greenleaf took the sum from a purse that
held only twenty dollars.
‘You see, Nellie, the necessity of taking boarders,
and you must do all you can to make our small
home agreeabe to the gentleman.’
‘What on earth are you going to do with him,
mamma ? Where will you put him ?
‘Into t!,e little blue room overhead, and I want
you to hurry back from your shopping to assist
about fresh curtains, and then you can practice that
new music to play for him. H« is very ; efined ami
will appreciate everything of that sort.’
‘A fig for nice men ! I sha’n’t care the wrappings
of my fingers for him, I know. He is a theological
student and as prim as a Quaker, I'll be bound.
When I marry, it will be for money. If he was
some rich old chap, wouldn't I play my cards for
him though ?
She did not utter these reflections aloud, as she
hurried out irto the windy and rather desolate
street, for she knew she was an extravagant little
chit and in one way and another daily augmented
theliurilens her widowed mother sorrowfully bore.
Rut there was something exhilerating in the cold
air and she walked with a quick step to Bradford <fc
Co.’s, where Johnnie Green was head clerk. It
was so nice chatting and flir ing with Johnnie, and
some how—no matter who the customers were—
Johnnie always found time to wait on her. Nellie
was the handsomest girl in Poplarvdie Few ladies
had cared to come out on that rather unpleasant
morning. Young Green was quite at leisure and
smiled at the figure flitting through the door.
‘Quite a Alarch morning, Miss Nellie,’ he said in
his blandest tones. ‘Can I show you anything !
We have just received a hew assortment of spring
goods—bereges, muslins, prints, &c., and trim
mings that are perfectly lovely. Let me sell you a
dress this morning.’
Nellie’s eyes brightened as it fell upon some silk
patterns and she wisned that she was rich; it would
be so nice buying all the pretty things she wanted,
but she tossed goods about, looked at this thing and
that and finally ended in purchas ng a box of hair
pins and a paper of needles; then the conversation
fumed upon a new actress, and a ride that was to
take place soon among the young folks in the vil
lage, and it was quite eleven o’clock before she left
the store.
‘I must go now and settle with that remarkable
scholar, the jeweler,’ she thought as she hurried
out, ‘and then I want to call at Miss Sherman’s and
look at her latest style of hats, and by that time
dinner will be ready and I must go home.’
As she was tripping lightly down street a gust of
wind took the little grey hat, with its fluttering
plume, from her head and blew it right into the
face of a tall, broad shouldered man, who was com
ing onto meet her.
He stopped and looked for a moment bewildered
as if he thought a bird of Paradise might have
alighted on his nose, then he took the dainty little
chapeau between his thumb and finger and looked
at it comically and finally at Nellie, who stood
quite still, uncertain whether to laugh or be vexed
at the mad frolics of the wind. Her hair had fal
len down and hung in wavy masses about her flush
ed cheeks—her eyes were very bright through ex
citement and she stood as if wondering what the
strange young man would conclude to do with the
piece of millinery in his hands.
He approached, bowed, smiled, and very grace
fully restored it. She thanked him, tied ii on as
best she could and both went on lheir ways.
Scarcely a phrase had been spoken, but as the girl
hurried forward she mused thus:
‘He’s just splendid. AVhat handsome eyes !
what a quiet gentlemanly air ! Some men would
have giggled and some would have been impudent
and some would have behaved clownishly, but he
went through it like a gentleman. I wonder who
he is ? a stranger evidently, for I know every soul
in Poplarville. If our new boarder was a man like
that, I shouldn’t mind practicing two hours a day
fi r him, but a stupid theological student ! bah !’
The dinner bell was ringing when she reached
home and Mrs. Greenleaf met her in the hall.
‘Hurry, Nellie,’ she said in a half whisper. ‘Air.
Denver is in the parlor and I’m going now to in
vite him in to dinner. Arrange your hair, for the
wind has blown it down, but don’t be long about it.’
‘O, who cares for mother’s boarder.’ thought the
little minx, but if he pays his bills regularly, I’ll
try and be civil to him.’ 4
She washed her face, brushed her hair, re-ar-
ranged her bangs and went down. Judge of her as
tonishment when she recognized in Mr. Denver the
hero of her street adven ure. She stopped and
blushed until her cheeks were redder than the wind
had made them. He, on his part, received the in
troduction very gravely, although she felt quite
sure he was conscious of having seen her before.
The theological student proved to be not only a
religious but a very polished, agreeable inmate.
He did not talk about regeneration, free agency,
the decrees and foreordination, all the time as Nel
lie had felt sure he would, but entered agreeably
into any conversation that chanced to be intro
duced. She learned too, incidentally, that unlike
most theologians, he was quite wealthy. She ar
ranged the fresh curtains with tasteful fingers and
practiced the new music for hours without fatigue.
She evidently was in love with the boarder and the
boarder fell in love with her.
They were engaged before the year drew to a
close, and aftewards he playfully took to calling her
his ‘windfall.’
They were married the next March. Everybody
seemed to be happy on the wedding day, but
Johnnie Green. To this day he does not like to
hear any mention made of Mrs. Greenleaf s boarder.
As Predicted by Astrologers,
Planetary Culmination Threatens Pestilence—Rail
way Accidents and Steamboat Explosions.
In a conversation with Air. S. W. Eaton, the New
York astrologer, that gentleman said : ‘I do not
pursue astrology for bread and butter’—Mr. Eaton s
business card shows that he is a manufacturer of
novelties in real and imitation lace goods—‘but
simply because the theory of
PLANETARY INFLUENCE
furnishes an explanation of w h it cannot be account
ed for in any other way. It elucidates some of the
most extraordinary proceedings of nature with
respect to the mental and physical constitution of
different members of the same family. Look how
curiously children of the same family turn out.
One is an Oliver, another a Richard Cromwell one
brother is proverbially lucky, another is proverbi
ally unlucky—some lives are full of casualities,
while others are unscathed. Yet these differing
fates were stamped in each child’s career at birth,
and registered by the stars. The positions in which
the planefs and the moon were poised in the mag-
neticaid lai icab-parvadingether at themomentot
birth determined the future man, just as approach
ing perehalia of Jupiter and Saturn foretell 11 tne
earthquake. Yet in this there is no interference
with nature. Nature’s laws do not evolve her prin
ciples or display her secrets. Nature did not dis
cover the mariner’s compass ; but the law of the
Almighty appointed one who should find it out.
The circulation ot the blood has been going on since
the beginning of animal and vegetable life ; but it
was not known to man till Harvey appeared.
‘So, then, you are of the opinion that the position
of th'e stars the sun and moon at _ a child s birth
show what the future man will be t'
‘Certainly! With respect to astrology it can truly
be said that ‘coming events cast their shadows be
fore ;’ and in this way astrology is a philanthropic
science. We see the danger ahead, and avo.d it.
The wise rule their stars ; the ignorant are ruled by
lheir stars. Ry indicating periods of danger as
trology becomes, as I have intimated, the handmaid
of philanthropy.’
Here Mr. Eaton handed the writer a book, entitled
"Astrology as it is,’ by ‘An Officer of the English
army ;’ ihe date of publication being IS56. As
trology is in such bad repute in England,’said Mr.
Eaton, ‘that the officer did not dare attach his name
to his work, lest he might be dismissed from Her
Br tannic Ala jest y’s service. I know the writer to
be Col. C Clements, and if you turn over, you will
perhaps be interested in the horoscope of the Rona-
parts.’ It is sufficient to state that the aspects at
the nativity of the Great Napoleon abundantly in
dicated the' manner of man the world feared, as
well as his rise and fall. His career had then of
course become, in 1856, when Col. Clements wrote,
a matter of history ; but with Napoleon III, iti was
different. He was then in the zeniih of his fame
and power. The Crimean war had bathed him in a
reflected glory. Queen Victoi ia was his guest. He
appeared to be the abiter of Europe. His dynasty
seemed to be firmly established in the hearts of the
French people ; yet this is whai Colonel Clements
a-rote in the book, published for private circulation:
Saturn is unfortunately placed m an angle in
MID HEAVEN ;
the moon also is in angle in square to Saturn at his
nativity. Time will show whether his Imperial
sty will suffer looses and disgrace in his ad-
jd years. It is ominous of evil.’ The world
knows how true was this signification of the stars
at his nativity. Another quotation may be permit
ted from Colonel Clement’s book, especially as the
horoscope has reference to Queen Victoria’s young
est son, and as no portion has been, or, as far as
human prescience can discover, is likely to be ful
filled :
T11 his Royal Highness Leopold’s nativity Saturn
is also unfortunately placed in mid-heaven ; but it
is not in bad aspect to the moon and other lumjna-
re. He has a Sutelhum of five planet it the ninth
house, which will I ring great noio i ty and fame
(according to the transits and directions in force at
the' time) during some period of this it 3 al prince’s
life.’ Tlii-, as the reader will see, is in the bosom of
the unrevealed future.
Let us briefly glance at some of the more recent
triumphs of astrology, I11 Zadkiel’s Almanac, pub
lished in 1S75, under the flag of the United States,
there was predicted a theatre on fire, with numer
ous coffins standing around for December, i876.
The Brooklyn fire occurred on the fifth of that
month. In Raphael’s Almanac for 1S7S, published,
of course in I877, it was predicted under May: ‘The
Emporer of Germany has Mars in square to his sun
(t. e ., to the sun as it was at his bft-th) about the 9th
and 10th, which may cause him indisposition or
troubles in his empire.’ As we all know, the em
porer was shot at on the 10th, and again, later on,
was shot at and wounded.
i On ihe 30 h day of June next, about twenty-six
minutes past 7 o’clock in the evening, Greenwich
time, there will occur the conjunction of Saturn
and Mars, at which time the zodiacal sign of Sagit-
tary will be rising and Scorpion culminating. The
conjunction will happen in the third house and in
the middle of the sign Aries, the ruling sign of
England, Germany, Denmark, Naples, and Birming
ham. Hence writes Raphael, the astrologer : ‘We
have no hesitation in declai ing that the effects of
the conjunction will be most malefic. It will enter
the houses of kings, of nobles, and slay more than
one victim. It will stir up feuds and bloodshed
among the nations of the earth, and cast down
more than one throne. Fires will be prevalent.
Sickness and pestilence will ravage the land, and
sore distress will fall upon mankind. The most evil
configuration is the square—i. e.. an angle of ninety
degrees—of ihe sun to the conjunction of the two
planets.’ Judging from all the aspects, this pro
found astronomer and astrologer feels called upon
to declare that ‘there is but one interpretation, and
that is, great morality, a terrible plague of cholera
or small-pox of extensive and fatal virulence ; also
death to high persons.’ This has exclusive refer
ence to Europe. Now for ourselves :
WOE FOR AMERICA.
When the conjunction of Mars and Saturn occurs,
reckoning for Washington, D. 0., the sun will be in
the ninth house, wh le the conjunction will trans
pire in the sixth house. Hence ihe omens are bad
for health and journeying. Fatal accidents will be
recorded on the railways, steamboat explosions,
etc., in the near future, and New York will suffer
during the conjunction of the 30th of June next.
The events of the next few years are likely to
have the effect of burning the revelations of astrol
ogy into the brains of people who have hitherto
been scoffers. It is well to remember that mere
Mephistophelean denying accomplishes nothing in
this world. As Lavater said, ‘the true philosopher
looks first to examine the positive proof of the
proposition, while the unenlightened mind first ex
amines the negative objections.’ And as Dean Stan
ley, alluding to the capsizing of the Eurydice, said :
‘The calamities of this world, so it would seem, come
not by accident but by fixed laws—by a combina
tiou of causes which, on looking back, seems irre
sistible.’
THE LIGHT BRIGADE.
A Graphic Description of the Charge
by a Survivor.
A girl marked the figure 18 in her shoes. Then, when
she eloped, she swore to the minister that she was “over
eighteen.”
The editor of a paper recently insisted that poets must
be brief The next dav he received a composition enti
tled “The Ballad of the Merchant;” “Trust-Bust!”
Senator McCreery, of Kentucky.
McCreery is one of the most remarkable men who
has ever been in the Senate. Physically he is the
most conspicuous member of it. His thin pipe-stem
legs are surmounted by a rotund body, and that in
turn is crowned with a head perfectly massive in
proportion, perfectly bald on top, and fringed with
long, straighr, jet black hair. The face is flat, large
and smooth shaven, and the eyes small and deep set.
He appears habitually in a full dress suit of rusty
black, carries his hands in his pants pocket, chews
tobacco incessantly, and has the most benignant
countenance imaginable. He is a modern Pickwick.
As a humorous and pathetic speaker he has no equal
in the Senate, and neither Conkling nor Blaine
command the attention of the Senate in a more
marked degree than he has on the few occasions he
has vouchsafed to speak. His voice is deep and
mellow, and his language more pure and simple
than that of any public speaker of the day. His
fund of information is inexhaustible, and the play
ot his imagination delicate and boundless. But for
his chronic indolence he would be one of the most
noted men in the country. As it is he is one of the
most notable. His speech was an exquisite sample
of both his humorous and pathetic ability.
“How does the Monsieur wish to have his hair dressed?”
“In silence, please.”
A survivor of the celebrated ride into the jaws
of death gives, in the B ston Commercial Bul
letin, the following graphic picture of the
charge :
Lord Cardigan’s eye glanced us over ; then
spurring Lis horse forward a few paces, he said :
My men, we have received orders to silence
that battery.’
My G—d !’ my brother ejaculated. Then
grasping my hard, be said :
Fred, my di ar fellow, good-bye ; we don’t
know what may happen. God bless you ; keep
close to mo—’
‘What more he might have said was lost in
Lord Cardigan's ringing shont of :
‘Charge!'
INTO THE JAWS f F DEATH.
‘We went in a trot; the trot changed to a can
ter, and the canter to a gallop. Through the
lines I could see Lord Cardigan several horse-
lengths ahead riding as steadily as if he was on
parade. Now, to tell the plain truth, when we
had ridden a short distance, say one hnndred
paces, I felt terribly afraid. The truth flashed
upon me in a moment that we were rii’ing into
a position that would expose us to a fire on
both flanks, as well as the fire from the battery
in front of us, which we had been instructed to
silence. I said to myself. ‘This is a ride to
death ! but I said it loud, enough for my
brother to hear and he answered and said :
‘There goes the first!'
‘The first was Lord Lacan’s aid-decamp, Cap
tain Nola”, who, aftt r making a slight detour,
was crossing our left to join ns in the charge.
A cannon bail had just cut him in two as my
brother spoke.
‘My heart leaped into my month and I almost
shrieked with fear, but I restrained myself, and
setting my teeth hard I rode on. A moment
later the r fie bullets from the sharp shooter*
on the hillsid began to whistle about oar ears.
Saddles were emptied at every step. Then
came the whistling shot and the shrieking shell
and tore through our squadrons, mangling men
and horses, ploughing bloody furrows through
and through our ranks. Then my fear left me.
My whole soul became filled with a thirst for
revenge, and I believe the same spirit animated
evrry man in the ranks. The r 1 yes flashed
and they ground their teeth and pressed closer
together. The very horses caught the mad
spirit, and plunged forward as if impatient to
1 ad t 8 to our revenge at d iheirs. At this tic e
there was not mnch to be seen. A heavy dense
smoke hung over the valley, but the flaming
mouths of the guns revealed themselves to out
eye sat every moment as they belched forth their
murderous conten s of shot and shell.
‘Now a shot tore through our rankp, cutting a
red line from flank to flaDk, then a shell
ploughed an oblique and bloody farrow from
oar right front to our left rear : anon a ricochet-
ting st ot rose over our fr nt ranks, fell into
our centre and hewed its way to the rear, mak
ing terrible havoc in its passage. Oh ! that
was a ride. Horses ran riderle, s, and men
bareheaded, and splashed with the blood ol
their comrades pressed closer and closer, and
ground their teeth harder, and mentally swore
a deadlier revenge as their numbers grew small
er.
“INTO THE GATES OF HELL.”
‘Alone and in (rout rode Cardigan still keep
ing the same distance ahead. His char er was
headed for the centre of the battery. Silently
we followed him. Up to this time neither my
self nor my brother had received the slightest
scratch, although we were now riding side by
side with comrade s who at the start were sepa
rated from us by several files. We reached the
battery at last. Up to this time we had ridden
in silence, but what a yell burst from us as wt
plunged in among the Russi. n gunners. Well
won d it have been for them if they had killed
us all before we reached them. They bad done
too little and too mnch. They had set us on
fire with passion. Only blood could quench
onr thirst for revenge. We ptssed through the
battery like a whirlwind, sabering the gunners
on our passage. I don’t believe one of them
lived to tell the tale of that ride. Out of the
1 attery and into the brigade—an army it was—
of cavalry. Our charge was resistless.
‘The Russians fell before our sabres as corn
falls before the ieaper. They seemed to have
no power of resistance. And there was no lack
of material to work upon. They closed in upon
us and surrounded us on every side, but we
hewed our way through them as men hew their
way through a virgin forest and only stopped
when we reached the bank of the Tehernaya
river.
BLOODY REMINISCENCES.
•Wheeling here we proceeded to out our way
back again. On the return ride I was assailed
by a gigantic Russian trooper who made a btrike
at me with h s sabre. I partly guarded it, but
not wtolly, and the next moment felt a stinging
pain in my neck. It passed in a moment, how
ever, and I was about to make short work of
the treoper, when I heard my brother cry :
‘Ah ! you jpould, would yoa ?’ and. the Rus
sian tell cleft to the chin.
‘We cut our way through and once more en
tered the fatal valley. When half way back to
onr starting point a cannon shot struck my
brother and bel eaded him. ‘Tom, ah, thank
you!’
The color-sergeant drained another glass.
‘When we formed up on arriving at our start
ing point, Lord Cardigan, with the tears stream
ing from his eyes, said :
•It was not my fault, my men.’
‘And the men replied with one voioe :
UNDISMAYED.
‘We are ready to go in again, my lord, if you
will lead us.’
Just then I becamo dizzy. My scalp had
been lifted by the stroke of the Russian’s sabre,
the skin of my cheek cleft across to my upper
lip, and I fainted from loss of blood.
■When my time expired in the cavalry I re
enlisted in this regiment. I am always proud to
hear myself called one of the six hnndred.
When you observe a wife exhibit unusual affection for
her husband, you may expect to see her before long with
a new bonnet.
A New Yorker says there wouldn’t have been anv milk
in the cocoanut, if the milkmen of that neighborhood
had anything to do with it.
A man in this town froze the bottom of his feet lately,
and as beheld them to the store, he remarked: “Two
soles with but a single thaw out.”
Never scold the rook in compunv. If von wish to give
her a “blowing up,” let her build the fire with kerosene.
You will always aid the local paper at the same time.
A hen-pecked husband said, in extenuation of bis
wife s raids upon liis scalp: “Yon see, she takes her own
hair off so easiR, she doesn’t know how it hurts to have
mine pulled out.”
A boy, whose honesty is more to lie recommended than
his ingenuity, once carried some butter to a merchant in
a country village in exchange for goods. The butter
having a very beautiful appearance, and the merchant
being desirous of pr (curing such for his own use, invited
the boy to bring him all his mother had to spare. “I
think,” said the boy, “she can’t spare any more, for she
wouldn't have spared this, only a rat fell into the cream,
and she did not like to use it herself.”
Not many miles from Boston two sisters bv the name
of Pepper are employed in the same establishment; one
of them has red hair, and goes by the name of “Red
Pepper,” while her sister, with black hair, is known as
“Black Pepper.” A male relative is also employed in
the same place, and is called “Pepper and salt,” li is hair
fairly representing that noted oyster-saloon mixture.
Neither of these persons by their temper partake of the
fiery nature of their cognomen.
A gentleman was one day relating to a Quaker a tale
of deep distress, and concluded very pathetically by say-
g: “I could not but feel for him.” “Verily,'friend,'”
replied the Quaker, “thou didst feel for thv neighbor;
hut didst thou feel in the right place—didst thou feel in
thy pocket?”
A gentleman in New Orleans was agreeably surprised,
the other day, to find a plump turkey served up for his
linner, and inquired of his servant how it was obtained.
“Why, sa,” replied Blaekec, “dat ar turkey is been
roostin'on our fence .tree nites; so dis mornin’I seize
him for de rent ob de fence.”
Some people have queer ideas of happiness. A gentle
man walking in the environs of London lately, overheard
the following conversation between a man ami a woman,
who appeared as if just come from some pleasure-trip into
the country: Woman—“Blow me, Bill, how tired I do
feel! I’m as miserable, too, as a starved herring. What a
miserable world this is! I wish 1 had never been born—
that X do; and now J am horn. I wish myself dead again!”
Man—“Why, Bet, what’s the matter with you now?
What are you grumbling about?” Woman—“Why,
don't 1 tell yer I’m as miserable as a rat?” Man—“Mis
erable, indeed ! Why. what on earth would yer have ?
You was drunk Monday, and you was drunk again
Wednesday, and I’m blessed if you haven't had pretty
near enough to-day. If that ain’t enough pleasure for
yer, I don't know what is! I suppose you wants to be
a downright hangel’ere on earth." "
The royal court aristocracy in Canada seems to look
ridiculous on the other side of the water when the colo
nial reflection of imperial pomp has something snobbish
about Us pretentiousness. We are told that arts and
genius must be brought to bear in teaching the Canadian
ladies how to appear it court; nd the Vourte y, the w. 1'q
the extending 01 Hie arm for the irain, and each physical
movements are practiced before some competent teacher
of deportment, who charges well for the lessons.” Two
of these are recommended, one a Miss Birch, an ominous
name for an instructress, and the other a Mr. D’Kgville;
and we learn that the former is “assisted by several assist
ants, who stand in the relative positions to Her Majesty
and the royal family.”
Of course no woman ever did such a thing, but sup
posing now for the sake of argument, as it were, that a
woman was to go to church for the purpose of showing
off her new basque, would it be sac-religious, so to
speak?
“What is home without a mother” who can cut the
slices thick and butter them thin ?
There was a young lady named Hanner,
She had a nose like a bananner;
She teached in a school,
Ail’ she rid on a mule,
But she could never play the planner.
She married a feller named Tanner,
That carried the star-sprangled banner;
But they fell out and tit—
She’s a grass widder yit,
A11’ he drives a dray in Savanner.
Women may become lawyers, but women cannot sit
on juries. They could never agree.
A man may be a day-dreamer; he may take no inter
est in everyday affairs: in the busy world he may be as
a drone in a hive—but just step on" his pet corn, and see
how quickly ho will wake up!
William Augustus to sleepy room mate: “Como, John
Henry, why don’t you get up with the lark, as Ido?”
John Henry, grimly: “Been up with him all night.”
Whiskey is made of leather now. This is tough, but
there is one comfort about it; a man can convert his
boots into the fiery liquid, and go to bed with them in
side, instead of on.
A happy motner of male twins enthusiastically refers
to her treasures as her “sweet boy and boy.”
Anecdote or Ben. Butler.
Ben. Butler was called on by a person who
wanted to have a talk with him.
•Mr. Butler, ‘said he. ‘one of my neighbor's
cows jumped my garden gate last night and
completely destroyed my flower beds. The gate
was of the height required by law, and was
closed. Now I wikh to know whether I can obtain
danageb? ‘
•Most assuredly,‘replied the widow's friend.
•Well, Mr. Butler, how much?"
‘OL! about ten dollars."
‘But, Mr. Butler, 1 triumphantly, 'the cow
was your a . “
-AL! said Mr. Butler, thoughtfully; and he
looked unutterable things out ef his bad eye.
Then he turned to his desk, scra'ohed c-ff a few
lines on a piece of pap«r and handed it to bis
visitor. It was in the form of an acoonnt, and
and read as follows:
* B. F. Butler to Mr. ,dr: To damages
caused by oow, $10; by legal advice, Cr., $15 ;
balance dne me, $5. *
'Mr. , ‘ said Mr. Bntler, softly, * yon needn't
hurry about the payment.'
-jumping the rope by the
Another harbinger of spring-
little girls.
Bo(a)rder troubles—tough steaks and underdone buck
wheat cakes.
The surest way to lose your own health is to keep
drinking somebody else's.
Dancing masters rarely have any money, but they are
always taking steps to raise some.
Blessed is the neighbor who is so busy with his own
affairs that he has no time to pry into yours.
Reckless of orthography, an impassioned swain wrote,
“Mary. I love the well.” ’ She replied that she was glad
he didn’t drink liquor.
“Do you ever have malaria here?” asked a lady of a
stupid hotel-keeper. “Yes, madam, we’ll have it to-day,
for I’ve got the best French cook in the city.”
Mrs. Dunshudder fed a tramp yesterday because he
wore an old army coat of faded blue. “You went
through the war?” said the sympathetic soul. “Yes’m ;
I was drummer.” and when the fellow reached the side
walk he concluded the sentence, “for a hardware store
in Chicago.”
George, dear, don’t you think its rather extravagant of
you to eat butter with that delicious jam.” No, love,
economical; same piece of bread does for both.”
Books are man’s best friends. They never go back on
him when he lends them to a neighbor.
The head of a mule is too heavy for the other portion^
of his body. It makes his hind feet fly up too easily.
“Yov’ll never miss the water till the well runs dry.”
And there’s a heap of fellows about this town who
wouldn’t miss it then.
The boy who was getting a little too large to enjoy the
flattery of his mother’s sister, said he had got “syc-oph-
ants” long ago.
It is a fact fully understood by railroad men that the
lines having the most long tunnels on the route secure
the bulk of the bridal-tour trade.
A mule’s head does not contain a brain capable of cul
ture and refined rearing, but it is wonderful to what an
extent the other end of him can be reared.
One day this week a young man from the country
stepped into one of our oyster saloons and called for a
dozen oysters. When asked by the waiter how he wanted
them dressed, the verdent replied: “Hang it, I don’t want
them dressed, I want them naked; and don’t forget it!”
Adolphe to Armida, on their way to Church “How I
would I were the prayer-book you clasp so lovingly.”
Reply—“How I would you were, for then I could shut
you up.”
“When I sleep ’neath the daisies” is the title of a new
piece of music. It has not become popular yet, as the
weather is too cool for so light a covering.
It is in church that the unexpected happens. At one
of the meeting-houses in Portland, Me., lately, a gentle
man who was sitting in the choir gallery and tipping
back his chair, was suddenly shot through a panel in the
organ casing and landed on the top of the big bellows.
Tliere he remained quiet for half an hour until the ser
mon was ended, without once daring to move, on ac
count of the noise which the bellows would have created.
Dressmakers and butchers are ever weltering in gore.
Life is a “Mr.”y to a sober man, and a “mizzer”y to a
drunkard.
“This,” said Au ustus as Mattie sat in his lar, sweetly
singing, “this is a mat-on-knee performance, darling.”
We never tried to spin afore
A yarn which has been spun afore;
But when we pun on Pinafore,
It seems we’ve heard of the pun afore.
Why cannot two. slender persons ever become great
friends ?—Because they will always be slight acquaint
ances.
“What have you done for the boys?” asks a noted di
vine. Well, less see; we’ve prepared several obituary
notices in anticipation of the green apple season.
The nose may not be a counterfeit detector, but it can
distinguish a bad scent from a good one.