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W. F. SMITH, Publisher, romiE ix. TOPICS # THE DAT. Chicago desire* to enlarge her bound aries. Ex-Senator A. G. Thurman is enjoy* ing Switzerland, \ knnor didn’t prophesy the drouth* Mark tbCit down. The general elections in Germany are fixed for the end of October. Nevada is willing to become a Terri tory again. Finances are in bad shape, Of thirty-two circuses now in this country, every one of them is the largest. An artesian well at Yankton, Dakota, 4C><) feet deep, Sows 150 gallons of water per through a six-inch pipe. Boston Coi orr, who shot Wilke* Booth,'has applied for a pension for gen eral disability, due to exposure in the army. Dr. Tanner is reported to have fallen down stairs, at Amsterdam, and killed himself, but as far as we can see, no body believes it. • The severe drouth has injured many trees, us shown by the premature decay ami faltyfig of the leaves. Roots near the u 1-face hare been literally parched. Jennie Junh says sorrowfully that the female tourists abroad seem to have chauged their natures and to have lost some of their finest elements. Jennie should particularize. The Londoners call Wliitelaw Reid, editor of the New York Tribune, who is sojourning there with his bride, “ the long, lank, lissom hollyhock.” That’s right. Give it to him. With the temperature at 100 degrees iu the shade, coal advanced four cents a bushel at Cincinnati, and is now’ quoted at seventeen cents. This i6 owing to the low condition of the river. The Pope’s newspaper, recently de funct, although it cost a mint of money to conduct it, never attained a circula tion of 1,000 copies, and Rome is pretty sure now that papal organs won’t pay. Among other effects of the drouth, milk and butter have rapidly increased iu price. There is no pasture worth speaking of, and in almost all localities it has been difficult to find enough water for stock. Mr. HonnowAY, the English maker of pills, is reported to have given upward of $3,750,000 for philanthropic purposes during the last five or six years. No body has intimated that it was con science money. An effort is being made in Italy to have all Senators, as iu America, elected by the people. Hulf of the Spanish Senators are elected in this way, but the remaining half are still elected for life by the King. The Chicago Tribune declares that gambling has been made a legal insti tution in that city, and that the only city on the continent bearing a parallel is New Orleans. Chicago has a bad reputation, that’s a fact. At the recent Scientific Congress at Cincinnati a loarned savant read a paper “on a mesal cusp of deciduous maudicu lar canine of the domestic cat, Felis domestica.” That is to say, it was the cat, which was under consideration. By a vote of thirty-four to five, the Georgia Seriate has passed an anti-Mor mon bill which makes it a felony for any person, by persuasion or otherwise, to attempt to mislead or influence others in the crime of bigamy or polygamy. As soon as the President is able, it is proposed by Ms physicians to remove bim into a more congenial atmosphere. The malarial influences about Washing ton are excessively injurious to the pa tient’s speedy recovery. Btreet begging has been suppressed In Philadelphia, and other cities will probably emulate her example. The tanner has no redress. In the greatness of bis heart he is expected to endure the ills of life and quietly grit his teeth to himself. _ John Hancock’s chair, the one in vhieh he sat when he signed his name to the Declaration of Independence, now stands in St. Paul’s Church, at Nor folk, Virginia. It was built for a big man, which John was, by all measure ments. Susie Hayden, at New Bedford, Mass., five months ago, became unconscious during religious excitement, and has re mained in a stupor ever since, but now shows some signs of returning intelli gence. It seems that religion, like other things, must be taken in moderation. Several oilers, one of them bidding as high as £2O, have been made for Mr. Bradlaugli’s coat, tom in ejecting him from Parliament. He replies that the garment is not for sale; that ‘ ‘ payment for its tearing will be made by his foes, and until that payment has been exacted the coat has a very special value as a re minder.” So low are the finances of the Sultan of Turkey that no baker or butcher will deliver the wherewithal for a meal at the Yildi y Kiosk unless paid in advance for the same. It is rumoied that, to meet this emergency, the Sultan is clandestinely disposing of, to Russia, the remaining men-of-war at his dis position. Jay Gould, while speaking of the wounded President, said: “I am very sorry for the President’s wife; very sorry, indeed,” and now the Chicago Inter Ocean flys off the handle at a great rate at his excessive tender-hearted ness. A man does not have to be very tender-hearted to sincerely express that sentiment. A prominent manufacturer of glycer ine in New York City says the demand for the article for the manufacture of nitro-glycerine has been unprecedented during the past fortnight. Whether this briskness is for the Irish or the Russian market he was unable to say, as he only furnishes the raw material, not the finished goods. Massachusetts is incompatible worse; she is a bubbling mass of do mestic infelicity. Within a period of one year, England, with a population of 24,000,000, reports only 800 legal separa tions (or divorces) whereas Massachu setts, the model commonwealth, reports over 600. Massachusetts is where they have about ten women to one man. Selina J. Gray, and hbr husband. William Gray, have brought suit in the U. S. Court at Cincinnati against tfie Cincinnati Railroad Company under the Civil Rights law, asking damages in the sum of $50,000. Selina, who is a colored lady, avers that she had pur chased a ticket from Cincinnati to Lex ington, Ky., and that when she at tempted to enter the ladies’ car, she was refused admission by force. So it goes. The following from the Cincinnati Commercial is mitigating, although truthful : “Sorrow breaks out in spots over “ the impending failure of the Star Route prosecutions.” But it dees not matter whether two or three fellows are inserted in the penitentiary. A fraud has been exposed, and the public busi ness upon which a great swindle was fastened, is made economical and rep utable.” Several artesian wells at Cincinnati are flowing successfully. An artesian well, in a season of drouth, is an inval uable thing, and communities are learn ing by experience their importance. In 1833 the French Government began sinking an artesian well in the suburb of Paris, which was completed in 1841, at a depth of 1,792 feet, when the water spurted 112 feet above its top and con tinues yet to run in a constant stream, discharging 500,000 gallons per diem. In an effort to sink an artesian well, St. Louis failed at a depth of 3,000, feet, whereas Cincinnati is successful at a depth of 400 feet. Low geological for mations are essential to secure a good flow. Courting in the Arctic Regions. Ah, yes, fond youth ! It may be very nice to court a girl in the far northern countries where the nights are six months long; but just think of the vast amount of peanuts and gum-drops the young man, when going to see his girl, must lug along with him in order to kill time, and induce her to believe that his affection for her is as warm as ever. And then the sad leave-taking a few weeks before sunrise! He whispers “ Good-night, love,” and she softly murmurs, “ Good-night, dear. When shall I see you again?” “To-morrow night,” he replies, as he kisses her up turned face. “ Tomorrow night,” she repeats, with a voice full of emotion. “Six long, weary months 1 Can’t you nail around a few days before breakfast, Charles?” Finally Charles tears him self away, with a promise to write her one hundred and sixty letters before the next day draws to a close. A Sad Anniversary. After having waited the ten regulation months Madame de B. remarried at the beginning of the eleventh. “ Are you happy ? ” an intimate friend asked, soon after. “ Extremely so ; my second husband is charming, amiable—he does every thing he can to please me; there is only one thing that is disagreeable.” “And that is?” “ That it will soon be the first anni versary of the other’s death! ” Lioird to lutiii&tfiai iiiter.st, the Diffu ioi! o: Troth, riia E*t^ u ~ yof Justin, aJ tiie Pxeservatiac of z People Government. INDIAN SPRINGS, GEORGIA. THAT DAT, BT EVA A. B. BARNES. The day was one of those sweet, rare days That only come with June, When hearts breathe forth instinctive praiae And pulses are io tune ; And o’er the hUI and o’er the lea My own true lover came to me That day. I know that skies were never so blue, Or flowers e’re half so sweet, And De’er a road so smoothly white Did lie ’neath trees that bend to greet, As where we met, my lover and I, Met once in spite of our destiny That day. ’Twas but a glimpse of the might have been.” A clasp of hands o’er years, A briel forgetting of worldly din, A precedent of tears ; v And life with its ceaseless ebb and flow Closed o’er two lives, their weal and woe, That day. Yet ’twill stand forth on memory’s green, Marked with a snow-white stone ; ’Twill come to meet in the land unseen, Wiieu each shall claim his own, And we can wait, my love and I, Holding in trust from memory That day. DIED OF A BROKEN HEART. A Story WhieANar be Bond With Profit by Parents. [Johnny Bouquet In New York Tribune.] A father in a New England town had a son—a little, large headed boy of ner vous intensity, with eyes of startling bonder, and long curling eyelashes, which started, like his fawn-like eyes, with quick apprehension and timidity—a boy who played with all intensity, kept doing something all the day long, with out the power to rest, walked off alone and even when alone spoke with himself, chased the geese with little legs as lean and swift, and at the table eating his meals could not sit very still, nor bear to sit all the morning in church because his heart was too rapid in his little nar row chest, where every rib could be counted against his tender flesh and skin. In the morning he was awake at earliest light; at evening his tired nature yielded to the deep sleep of exhaustion. His mother feared she could never raise him to be a man. His father thought he was too long becoming a man in gravity, so briety and formal obedieuce. “What ails my son ?” the father sternly asked. “He is rattle-headed and with out stability. I fear for him. Do you chastise him enough? Spare not the rod lest he grow beyond you and your rule.” “ Alas !” exclaimed the mother, “he has his little world, we cannot see, per haps. He is growing and sensitive. The doctor says we must not push him at his studies, but let him play all he can, VI I • his frame is equal to liis'braiu. f • The father shook his head and spoke sternly to the boy, and feared he was go ing to give them all trouble growing up so seldom moulded and unrestrained. All day the little boy was doing some thing, carrying the cat by the tail, carry ing the dog under his arm, making pic tures ou paper, of engines and steam boats, and bellows. “ He will be an artist,’’saidhis mother hopefully. “ He will spoil the library,” exclaimed the father suspiciously. Antagonism grew up between the father and the boy, born, on the boy’s part, of fear; on the father’s, of criticism and severity. The boy ran to his mother and asked her protection from his father’s suspecting eye. The father feared his wife was spoiling the son with mistaken generosity and allowance. At times the father’s habitual suspicion broke away like the clouds above hard, human Britain, and he laid his rigorous books of theology down to take his boy walking, and they grew a little nearer. Then again the father observed some voluptu ous tendency in the son which started his fears anew; some taste for worldly, passing modes and joys. “Wife,”he said, “do you ever give our boy money ?” “A little,” she said ; “a few pennies to buy drawing materials and colors ; he will be an artist I think.” “Money,” exclaimed the sire, “is the root of every evil. You had better give him fire or poison. He will become a wild, ruined spendthrift.” The idea that his wife gave the child money operated in the father’s head like jealousy or revenge; it tinted everything about his son’s oonduct, and he believed his wife had set deliberately to work to indulge her child at the expense of his soul. One morning, thinking of such things the father lay awake in bed, and a gen tle noise disturbed him. The sun was up, though it was scarcely 5 o’clock, and the light and air striking through the chamber curtains showed the little boy in his night gown stealing toward bis father’s bed. He glanced sharply to ward his father to see if he was quite asleep, and then swiftly, like a little bird, hopped upon a chair and ran his lean white fingers into his father’s vest pocket. “Ha ! ” thought the father. *‘ My son in my pockets by stealth, before I sun awake, and imitating the bad example of my wife, who often, perhaps, searches unauthorized there!” As he said this a dreadful idea crossed his mind. That son, spoiled by the mother’s indulgence, already corrupted by spending money, was a thief—a thief while yet a child! He rose in bed and spoke in a voice of thunder: ‘ ‘ Robert, you are stealing my money P Horror froze the boy; he dropped from the chair like a cat, and was into his own bed in the next room and covered his face with his sheets. Anguish and stem re solve possessed at once tne fathers’ stricken heart He had delayed too long to chastise his wayward son, now gliding into ruin. It must be done, hard though it should be. He awoke his wife, and, suppressing her replies with an iron will, related the story of her depraved child. “Henceforth,” he said, “I must be the magistrate and mother, instead of you ! Robert, come, dress yourself !” He thrust the frightened mother back. The boy fell on his knees but could not speak one word, so large the knot that gathered in his little throat, so resolute the startled, fawn like eyes, as ii agony and perversity worked together to make him obdurate. Down the stairs and into the orchard, away from sight, the fathe* bore his child, and making him kneel upon the grass, struck hard and slow with the switch bf the apple tree, tellin# his boy to confess ; yet dumb as Isaac upon the altar beneath his father’s knife, shrinking childhood of the boy received his hard chastisement. Carried back, all trembling as with a chill of death, to the house of mourning, the little boy was laid in his bed, still frozen tight of speech and only the ointment of a mother’s tears fell upon his tortured back and famine narrowed shoulders, but his large eyes turned to a little box that he kept his treasures in, and they placed it in his bed where he lay all day sighing from his inarticulate soul. The father’s heart was wrenched to think of such a frail, dear son persisting in his wickedness, and turning from re pentanoe. He sat by his side all that afternoon demanding his boy to confess and save them both the pain of another chastise ment. The boy trembled, but did not speak, and put his arms around his little box as if it was his brother. The long night through a sigh went through the chamber ever and anon from those suffering lips. Neither man nor woman slept. At early day the anguished father felt that the stern pun ishment must be meted out again unless his boy spoke and repented. He rose and passed into the ohamber where the son lay in his lowly bed, all strewn with his little drawings, and his arms around his box. He sighed no more, but seemed asleep. Upon his face a color paler than the snowy sheets extended. Another guest was in the bed ; the guest that cometh like a real thief in the night. “Mary !” cried the father, “Mary, my wife, come here ! Robert is dying!” The mother came on feet of doves’ wings. She raised her son upon her breast The little lips unclosed and spoke the last forever to this world : “Hove my papa. Mamma, I only wanted his pencil, not his money. Dear God, let papa love me. ” And so, among the little drawings he had been working at every dawn, till his pencils were worn to the wood and he would have borrowed his papa’s noiselessly, whose sharpened pencil was in his waistcoat pocket, the little artist yielded up his broken heart. Only the room resounded with a childless father’s cry: “ Oh! had I my son again, even though he were a thief !” Fortunes Lost in Cornwall. Every tourist in Cornwall is familiar with the deserted engine houses and ruin ous chimney stacks which form so char acteristic a feature of the scenery of the Western mining districts. They have their picturesque aspect, but they are the evidences of wide-spread ruin. To thousands of families they have been, in the phrase applied to an unprofitable speculation by Carlyle; “The grave of the last sixpence. ” They stand there by scores and by hundreds, dilapitated, stripped of every morsel of wood or metal that would sell, towering over wide wastes of rubbish-heaps, their high sounding names forgotten. Millions drawn from the wealth and the poverty of outside investors have within tne past thirty years been buried in the bowels of the Cornish hills, or have found their way into the pockets of some wily pro jectors. It is not twenty years amce a shrewd Cornishman made large profits by disposing of shares in a mine with a high-sounding name, near his native vil lage ; upon inquiry the magnificent mine S roved to be merely a pit some score feet eep, with a windlass and a bucket! This gentleman was indeed rather too clever, for he speedily found himself in jail, but after no very long time he was let loose again upon his prey. How many aliases he has had since then, or into how many mine-broking firms he has developed, probably no one but himself knows, but more than one well* puffed mine of the present mining revival is known to have owed its origin to his energies. It may be quite true that, on a capital of £I,OOO, Devon Great Con sols made in its earlier years more than a million profit; that South Caradon gave its wealth on even easier terms ; that Tresavean paid £60,000 dividends in one year. But let ns look a little fur ther into the results, and we shall dis cover that the families that have realized wealth by mining, and not from the dues they have received as lords of min ing property, are few and far between. Often within the life-time of the indi vidual, frequently in the next generation, mining has taken what mining gave. The greatest mining fortune of the last two or three generations was that which eventually came into the hands of the late Sir william Williams. His eldest son and heir adhered to the traditions of his family in supporting mining enter prise, and—he died insolvent— London Standard. Forty thousand wax candles are in staneously lighted by a single match in the Palace Royal, Berlin. The wicks are previous connected with a thread spun from gun cotton, on igniting one end of which all the candles in the 700 apartments are lighted simultaneously. BLACK DIAMONDS. Statistics of Coal Production. The coal trade has about it no sugges tion of antiquity. The old Romans cut aqueducts through coal fields with the loftiest contempt for black diamonds, and it was not until 1240 that coal was used in London. Sixty wears later there was considerable trade in coal, and in 1880 the production of coal in Great Britain was 134,008,288 tons. The United States, with* a coal area of 192,000 square miles, produced 66,200,- 934 tons of coal in 1880, while Great Britain, with a coal area of 11,900 square miles, produced 134,000,000 tons, and Germany, with an area of only 1,770 square miles, produced 46,953,002 tons. In the same year France produced 17,104,485 tons; Belgium, 15,446,531 tons ; Austria, 15,447,292 tons ; Russia, 2,588,604 tons; Spain, 775,000 tons; Nova Scotia, 788,000 tons; Australia, 1,750,000 tons ; India, 4,000,000 tons ; Japan, 750,000 tons; Vancouver’s island, 250,000 tons; Ohili, 50,000 tons ; Swe den, 90,000 tons ; Italy, 220,000 tons ; China, 4,000,000 tons. Increase in the production of coal in England has not been rapid. But in countries like the United States, Russia and Australia, the growth in business is astonishing. Ten years ago Russia mined only 829,745 tons of coal, and in 1829 Australia produced only 780 tons. In 1858, the output of the whole German empire was 4,883,585 tons of coal, and 1,417,420 tons of lignite. In the United States the production has been more than doubled in the last ten years. The following table shows the production of coal in the different States of the Union in 1869 and 1880 : Tons, 1809. Tans, 188(1. Pennsylvania, anthracite 13,866,180 23,437,242 Pennsylvania,"bituminous 7,708,517 19,900,000 Illinois 2,629,663 4,000,900 Ohio 2, >26,285 7,000,000 Maryland 1,819,824 2,136, 160 Missouri 62 ,930 1,600,000 West Virginia 608,878 1,400,000 Indiana 437,870 1,196,490 lowa 263,487 1,600,000 Kentucky 160,682 1,000,000 Tennessee 133,4 1 9 641,042 Virginia 61,803 100,000 Kansas 37,938 650,000 Oregon 200,000 Michigan 21,160 35,000 California 600,000 Rhode Island 14,000 15,000 Alabama 11,000 340,000 Nebraska 1,425 100,000 Wyoming 60,000 226,000 Washington 17,844 175,000 Utah 6,800 276,000 Colorado 4,500 676,000 Georgia...., 100,000 Total 31,116,595 66,200,934 It will be seen by this table that while the older of the coal-producing States, like Pennsylvania, Ohio and Illinois, have about doubled their output, the newer States like lowa, Kansas and Ne braska have increased their production ten and twenty fold. The consumption of coal at Pittsburgh for 1880 is about 2,000,000 bushels; New York, 5,250,000. The receipts of coal at Chicago were 2,886.748 tons; St. Louis, 1,675,000 tons; New Orleans, 3,187,400 tons; Cincinnati, 1,787,230 tons; Cleveland, 1,750,000 tons. The United States stands next to Great Britain as a coal-producing coun try, but, while Great Britain exported 18,702,551 tons last year, the United States exported 614,000 tons, more than half of this going to Canada. Ellsworth’s Death—Grief of President Lincoln. In an account of the death of Col. E. Ellsworth, in Alexandria, Va., on May 24, 1861, by the hand of the tavern keeper .Jackson, furnished the Philadelphia Times by Capt. Frank E. Brownell, his avenger, occurs the fol lowing: “It was only a short time, however, when a message came that the President wished to see me at the engine house. I w ent. There was no one but the Pres ident, Capt. Fox, of the navy, and the undertaker. Mr. Lincoln was walking up and down the floor, very much agi tated. He was wringing his hands, and there was, I thought, the trace of tears upon his cheek. He did not appear to notice my entrance at first. Lifting the cloth from the face of the dead man he exclaimed, with a depth pathos I shall never forget: I My boy, my boy ! Was it necessary this sacrifice should be made ?’ After a while he made me re late the whole occurrence in detail. I had scarcely finished before Mrs. Lin coln came, and I was again asked to re peat the story of the tragedy to her. The following letter from Mr. Lincoln to the parents of Ellsworth has, I think, never been in print: “ la the untimely loss of your ncble son our (.tfl.ction here is scaroely less than your own. So much of promised usefulness to one’s ooun trv, and of bright hopes for one’B self and fr.ends, have rarely been so suddenly darkened as in his fall. In size and years and in youth ful appearanoe a bov, his power to oommand men was surprisingly great. This power, com bined with a fin* intellect and indomitable en ergy and a taste altogether military, constitut ed in him, as seemed to me, the best natural talent in that department I ever knew. And yet he was singularly modest and deferential in social intercom se. My acquaintance with him began less than two years ago, yet through the latter half of the intervening period it was as intimate as the disparity of our ages and my engrossing engagements would permit. To me he appeared to have no indulgences or pas times, and I never heard him utter a profane or intemperate word. What was mors conclu sive of his good heart, he never forgot his par ents. The honors he labored for so laudably, and in the sad end so gallantly gave his life, he meant for them no less than himself. In the hope that it may be no intrusion on the sacred ness of your sorrow I have ventured to address this tribute to the memory of my young friend and your brave and early-fallen child. May God give you the consolation which ia beyond all ear hiy power. Sincerely your friend in a common affliction, A. Lincoln.” Ah xdxtob in Lehigh County received a new subscription last week—the first In six months—and he anxtounoed it under the head, 'The Cry Is, Still They SOBSCftIPTION-Sf.Sff. NUMBER i HUMORS OF THE DAY. Capt. Eads has quite an admiration for the offspring of Africa because it’s apt to be a little jetty.— Yonkers Ga zette, In Baltimore a fine of $1 is imposed for every oath used. A newspaper man on a princely salary would die a pauper in that city. —Modern Argo. A Canada farmer discovered a pit containing 500 skulls. Must have been the site of an ancient theater to have had so many dead heads in the pit. “ Dis vas der vinder mit mine disgon tend !” remarked an excited Teuton as the window sash came down upon hia neck while he was looking at a bicycle race. A bride is reported to have lately said : “I told all my friends to have my name put on my presents, so that if di vorced George should not be able to claim them.” Notice at the door of a ready-made clothing establishment, in one of the poorer quarters of Paris : “Do not ffo somewhere elsa to be robbed; walk m here. - Argonaut, It is now claimed that Satan pre vailed over Eve by imp-ortunity. —N. Y. Herald, P. I. Has it been demon strated ?— Commercial Bulletin, Yea, it is the latest devil-opment. Beeoheb says that Hades is a State rather than a place. He doesn’t say what State, but “Go to Texas” has al ways been considered synonymous with that other profane injunction. We don’t see why the revised edition won’t suit a big percentage of the folks. It has just as handsome bindings, looks as well on a centre table and is just as good to press leaves with.— Boston Post. Ohio’s valuation is said to have in creased only $13,000,000 in ten years. In view of the fact that half the Btato has been holding office during that period, the story may be considered a lie.—Bos ton Post. A Quinoy lady who feels aggrieved at a notice in a recent number of the Argo threatens to box our ears. This would make a live boom in the lumber busi ness and cause the hearts of several idle carpenters to rejoice.— Modern Argo , Clergyman—“ No, my dear, it is im possible to preach any kind of & sermon to such a congregation of asses.” Smart young lady—“And is that why you call them ‘dearly beloved breth ren?’ ” —Columbia Spectator. A Cincinnati youth practiced smoking cigars and blowing the smoke from hie nose, but just as everybody thought him awful smart he became deaf, and ia likely to remain so.— Detroit Free Press. He must have had a very poor nose for hearing. When a young man devotes fifteen minutes to arranging his necktie on Sun day evening, and brushes his hair with a little more particularity than usual, it is a sign that he has “pressing” busi ness on hand, and will get into a tight sqeeze before midnight. “ I understand that your son is a bach elor of arts,” said Mrs. srown to Mrs. Homespun, whose son had just been graduated at Harvard. “Well, yes,” replied Mrs. Homespun; “yes, he’s a bachelor—but he’s engaged.”— Boston Transoript. William Penn was a very honest man. He would not rob the Indians of their lands. Not a bit of it! He honorably gave them seven pounds of bread and some jack-knives for the territory of Pennsylvania. Such honesty cannot but be rewarded. —Boston Post. “When I have prepared a remarkably good sermon,” said Rev. Mr. Gush well, “it generally happens that I have a very small congregation to listen to it. “ What a memory you have ?” exclaimed Y°gg, in tones of astonishment; “ how long ago was it that you prepared that sermon, did you say.— Boston Tran script. Does the World Miss Any One I Not long. The best and most useful of us will soon be forgotten. Those who to-day are filling a large place in the world’s regard will pass away from the remembrance of men in a few months, or, at farthest, in a few years after the grave has dosed upon their re mains. We are shedding tears above a new made grave and wildly crying out in our grief that our loss is irreparable, yet in a short time the tendrils of love have entwined around other supports, and we no longer miss the one who has gone. So passes the world. But there are those to whom a loss is beyond repair. 1 here are men from whose memories no woman’s smile can chase recollections of the sweet face that has given up all its beauty at death’s icy touch. There are women whose plighted faith extends be yond the grave, and drives away as pro fane those who would entice them from a worship of their buried loves. Such loyalty, however, is hidden away from the public gaze. The world sweeps on beside and around them and cares not to look in npon this unobtruding grief. It carves a line and records a stone over the dead and hastens away to offer homage to the living. It cries out weepingly, “le roy est mort,” but with the next breath exclaims joyously, “ vive le roy/] A CATKim in New York, it is said, is able to make almost all the dishes of a complete bill of fare from a fresh-killed hog. “Why, are you alive yet, my old friend ? I heard you were dead. ” “ Nice friend, you are. You didn’t even come to my funeral.*’