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HALF WAY.
Have you forgotten where we stood,
Between the lights, that night of spring,
The river rolling to the flood,
So sad the birds, they dared not sing?
No love was ever dreamed like this,
Beneath the shadows of the park,
Beneath a whisper and a kiss,
Between the daylight and the dark.
There had been trouble—this was rest;
.There had been passion—this was peace;
The sunset dying in the west
Slade Nature sigh and whispers cease.
I only felt what I had found,
You only knew what I would say;
But nothing broke the peace profound
Between the darkness and the day.
How will it end? I cannot tell;
I asked it many months ago,
Before the leaves of autumn fell
And changed to winter’s waste of snow.
Yet we stand watching at the gate
Of summer time for promise—hark !
No, love, ’tis nothing ! We must wait
Between the daylight and the dark.
Clement Scott.
FOR ins BROTHER’S SAKE
The True History of a Life of Self-Sacrifice.
B5' COL. GEOIIGE W. SYMONDS.
“The Governor pardoned John Brisben, a
from penitentiary convict, to-day. He was sent up
Bourbon for fifteen years for forgery,
and had ten years yet to serve. Our readers
are familiar with the history of this case, and
the humane action of His Excellency will be
generally commended.’’ —Frankfort (Ky.)
Yeoman.
I read this little paragraph and my
mind went back six years. I knew John
Brisben, and I also knew his twin
brother Joseph. I was familiar with
the details of the action that placed
John Brisben in a felon’s cell, and now,
when the sad affair is brought back to
mind so vividly, I must write it out, for
never before have I met, in prose or
poetry, in real life or in romance, a great¬
er hero than plain, matter-of-fact John
Brisben.
The Brisbens came of good stock. I
think the great-grandfather of my hero
emigrated to Kentucky when Kenton’s
Station, between the present old city of
Maysviile and the historic principal town of
Washington, “dark was the bloody settlement
on the and ground. ” He
came from Upper Pennsylvania and lo¬
cated about five miles from the Ohio
River, on Limestone creek. He was an
industrious, strong-limbed, lion-hearted
old fellow, and in a few years his sur
roundings were of the most comfortable
description. One of bis^ons, Edwin
Brisben, once represented Kentucky in
the Federal Congress. I think he was
tho grandfather of John and Joseph
Brisben. Their father’s name was Samuel
and he died when they were little chil¬
dren, leaving his and widow an little excellent
blue-grass farm a snug fortune
in stocks, bonds and mortgages. The
widow remained a widow until her death.
Mrs. Samuel idolized Brisben was twin a good woman Like
and she her boys.
most twins, the brothers resembled each
other in a striking manner, and even in¬
timate acquaintances could not tell them
apart. But although the physical re¬
semblance was so strong there was great
dissimilarity Joseph in the dispositions surly and hf the,
twins. was morose,
sometimes winning and revengeful. He
was withal a dreamer and an enthusiast;
a man well learned in books, a brilliant,
frothy talker when he chose to be soci¬
able (which was seldom), excellent a splendid
horseman, and a most shot.
John Brisben, on the contrary, was
cheerful and bright, honorable and for¬
giving. He was a man of high moral
principle, intensely practical and method¬
ical, cared little for books, and, although
he said but little, was r. splendid com¬
panion. He was a poor horseman, and I
don’t think he ever shot a gun in his life.
He saw nothing of tho poetry of life, and
as for sport, he work. enjoyed himself loved only his
when hard at He
brother, and when they were boys to¬
gether suffered punishment many times,
and uncomplainingly, that “Jodie”
might go scot free, liis life was, there¬
fore, one constant sacrifice, but the
object of this loving adoration made
▼nt shabby returns for this unselfish de
botion.
They were 20 years old when their
mother died very suddenly. Joseph
made a great pretense of grief, and was
so hysterical at the grave that he had to
be led away.
John, on the contrary, never demon¬
strative, took the great affliction with
his customary coolness. He said but
little and shed no tears.
The property left to the boys was con¬
siderable. The day met they and were made 21 settle¬ years
-old the trustees
ment. There was the bine-grass farm
valued at #50,000, and #100,000 in well
invested securities which could be turned
-into money. Joseph demanded a di¬
vision.
“You can take the farm, Jack," he
said. “I was never cut out for a farmer.
Give me #75,000 in money for my share."
So this sort of a division was made.
John continued on at the homestead,
working in his plain, methodical way,
and slowly adding to his share of the
money what he could raise out of the
profits of the farm. Joseph, with his
newly-acquired wealth, set up an estab¬
lishment at the nearest town and began
a life of pleasure-pleasure of the grosser
sort. His brother gave him no advice,
for he knew it was useless. Joseph
spent his money with great prodigality beggar.
and before he knew it he was a
In the meantime John’s $25,000 had
doubled itself. One day Joseph came
to him with a full confession of his pe¬
cuniary troubles . only
“ Jack,” said he, “I am not a
beggar, but I am heavily in debt Help
me out like a good fellow, and I will _ set¬
tle down and begin life in sober earnest
Wi.h m, capacity tor business I can soon
make monev enough to repay you. I
have sown my wild oats, and ^ith a little
help I can soon recover all that I have
squandered so foolishly.” Brisben placed
For an answer John
his name to an order for the #2-5,000 he
had earned so laboriously. Jodie?”
“Will that lie enough, he
asked, “because I have as much more,
which von can have if it is necessary.”
“This will be sufficient, old fellow,”
was the reply. “In two years I will pay
it back.”
He went back to town, drew his money,
paid his debts, sold some of his horses
and discharged several of his servants.
Twenty thousand dollars was left out ol
the loan. He invested this in business,
and for a while seemed to have really re¬
formed. John was encouraged to say:
“Jodie will come out all right. He is
smarter than I, and in five years will 1 h
worth more money than I could make in
a life-time.”
In less than three years Joseph Bris
ben’s affairs were in the hands of his
creditors, and a sheriff’s officer closed
out his business. Again he turned to
his brother for help and sympathy.” trifle
“I own that I managed a care¬
lessly,” he said by way of explanation.
“Experience is a dear teacher, and the
lesson I have learned I shall never for¬
get. If you come to my assistance now
I can soon recover myself.” Brisben placed
Once more John
his name to a check payable to the order
of liis brother, and Joseph entered into
business again. In two years he was a
bankrupt.
“I shall never succeed in business,
Jack,” he said. “Help me out of this
trouble and I will live with yon on
the farm, I shall si.joeed as a
farmer.” hoard to
It took all of John Brisben’s
pay his brother’s debts, but he made no
complaint, uttered no reproach. He
said:
“I am glad you are coming back to
the farm, Jodie. You need do no work,
and will be very happy together. ”
we
So Joseph took up his residence at the
farm, and remembering his brother’s
words, devoted his time principally about the to
hunting, fishing and riding
country. In the meantime John Brisben
had fallen in love, and the daughter of a
neighboring farmer, Compton, by name, of
was his promised wife. and having Being, a full man
strict honor himself con¬
fidence in his brother, he did not object
when Joseph began to pay his affianced
very marked attention.
“I am glad he likes her," he that thought. have
“I am so busy on the farm I
little time for pleasure, and Alice is so
fond of amusement. ”
One night Joseph came to him just as
the shadows of evening were beginning in
to fall. There was a triumphant ring
his voice when he spoke. said, holding
“Jack, old boy,” he out,
his hand, “congratulate me. I think
that from to-day I can date the begin¬
ning of a new life. Alice Compton has
promised to be my wife.”
He was too much engrossed with his
new happiness to see the effect of this
announcement as portrayed on John’s
face. He did not notice the strong
man’s hand tremble in his own.
“Is this true?” faltered John at last.
“Why, of course it is. Are you not
glad ? We love each other and shall be
very happy.”
( « i We love each other, and shall be
very happy !’ ” repeated John mechanic¬
ally, and all the sunshine of his life sank
behind the heavy clouds of despair.
“Yes, Jodie, I am glad, and I wish you
long years of happiness.” rather
He turned away and staggered, did
than walked, to his own room. He
not stir all night. Once a deep, sobbing
groan struggled ’ to his lips, 1 and the
moonbeams struggling through the win¬
dow fell full upon his face, and surprised his pale
two great tears stealing down
cheeks. He brushed away this evidence
of weakness and sorrow, and when the
morrow came, no one looking into his
calm, serene eyes would have guessed
how hard was the battle that had been
fought and won in that lonely chamber.
They were married, and the man re¬
jected by the bride and supplanted congratulate by
the groom was the first to
the npwly-rnarried pair. A vacant house
on the farm was fitted up for their recep¬
tion and John Brisben’s money paid for
the furnishing.
“Hereafter, Jodie,” he said, “we will
divide the profits of the farm. I don’t
need much, and you shall have the
la’ ger share. ”
Ten years passed away, and John Bris¬
ben, an old man before his time, still
worked from dawn till dark that his
brother might play the gentleman family which and
the keep in comfort drawn the large round him. had
years had It
been necessary to mortgage the old
homestead, t o raise money to pay Joseph’s
gambling debts, for of late years be
had played heavily, and bad invariably
lost.
One day—it was in the summer of
1877—a forged check was presented at
one of the banks at the shire town, by
Joseph v Brisben, and the money for which
it called was unhesitatingly paid over to
him. He was nnder the influence of
liquor at the time, and deeply interested
in a game of cards for high stakes,
which was in progress. The check was
for #2,500, I think. Before daylight the
next morning Joseph Brisben had lost
every dollar of it. To drown his chagrin
he became beastly drunk, and while in
this condition an officer arrived and ap¬
prehended him for forgery and uttering
a forged check. jail, and The prisoner was con¬
fined in word of his disgrace
was sent to John Brisben. The latter
read the message, and a mist came over
his eyes. He groaned audibly, and but
for a strong effort of the will he would
have falleivto the floor, so weakened was
he by the shock.
“She must not know it,” he said to
himself, and he made instant prepara¬
tions to visit his brother. When he
reached the jail he was admitted to tlie
cell of the wretched criminal, The
brothers remained together for several
hours. What passed during the inter¬
view will never be known. When Join:
Brisben emerged from the jail he went
straight to the magistrate who had
issued the warrant for the apprehension
of Joseph Brisben.
“Squire,” he said, in his slow, hesitat-
111 -W J™J^TfriflTrSked wa 'v"v i' en ,- K !
he magistrate, . , , who had , a high regard
“ Y <f v ? have fel or * caused ▼ the .. arrest 4 of f an m
nocent majL
But -began the magistrate . , ,
“Issue an order for my brother’s m
stant release. He is innocent of the
intent to do wroDg. I am the guilty
man. I forged the name of Charles
Ellison to the check he uttered. He
know that it a forgery. (
did not the was astounded magis¬
“You,” cried forger—impossible?”
trate. “You a days; (
“Nothing is impossible in these
said the white-haired old man sternly.
“I alone am guilty. My brother is in
"
uocent.” the
So stoutly did he aver that he was
forger that the magistrate reluctantly
issued a warrant for his arrest, and at
the same time lie wrote an order to the
jailor for the release of Joseph Brisben.
“My constable will be in soon.
the magistrate, but the old hero picked
up both the papers. T
“I will not trouble him, he said; 1
will execute both papers.
And he did. Handing the jailor both
papers, he explained their meaning
thus: T
“They have made a mistake. It is 1
who am to be your prisoner. My broth'
er is innocent.”
Accordingly Joseph Brisben was re
teased and returned to the farm. J' 1 * 111
remained at the jail a prisoner. When
the extraordinary affair became known,
several prominent citizens oflered to go
on the accused man s bond, but he would
not accept their kind offices. At the
the trial he pleaded guilty and was sen¬
tenced to fifteen years’ imprisonment Joseph at
hard labor in the penitentiary. removed
came to see him before he was
to Frankfort, but their interview was e
private one. remained the farm,
Joseph Brisben at
but he was a changed man. From the
day he was released from jail down to
the time of his death, he was never
known to touch a card, and a droo ol
liquor never passed liis lips. Last April
he died, and his confession, duly sworn
to before a justice the of burial, the p eace, In sub- was
made public this: after That he guilty
stance it was was
of the forgery for which his heroic
brother was suffering a long imprison
menr. „
“It was my brother’s wish, _ insisted not mine, _ thflt
reads the document, “He
he who had no ties of blood or marriage
could better suffer the punishment and
the disgrace than I who had dependent
upon me a large family. ”
Noble John Brisben ! Of such stull
are heroes made .—Detroit Free Press.
A LAKESIDE MUSING.
Why George Would not Accept His Loved
One’s Invitation to Stay to Tea.
“You are too tart.”
A ghastly pie-crust pallor that is in
strange contrast to the ruddy flush of his
new necktie passes swiftly over George
W. Simpson’s face as Beryl McCloskey
speaks these words, and as they stand
there together in the dim half-light of
the conservatory, the soft perfume of the
June rose coming through the open win¬
dow on the sighing breeze that is kissing
the sawbuck whose haggard form is
sharply outlined against the woodshed,
he feels instinctively that this loved, woman— and
the only woman he has ever
to win a smile from whom he would
brave tlie horrors of Inferno or go to St.
Louis in July—has been making a toy of
his affections. The thought is a mad¬
dening one, and as it surges through liis
brain aiid starts on the return trip almost
without a pause the agony is bo over¬
powering that the strong man reels, and
would have fallen had not his pants ’ >i
too tight. *s v
“Do you know what yon have cliose qaid,
Beryl ?” he said, bending his face plead¬
to hers and looking with a pitiful,
ing, man-on-third-base-and-tWo-out ejves {ex¬
pression into the beautiful brown
that are upturned to his. But there is
no light of love in those dusky orbs; Ino
warm, -while-when-we-get-home-from-the responsive, you-may-hold-me-a
iittle -
concert gleam. Around the drooping
mouth there are hard, tense lines, and
on the white brow, that is fair as the cy¬
clamen leaves scattered over the lawn of
Brierton Villa, there came no rosy flush
—sweet messenger of love and truthful¬
ness—nothing but the bandoline. faint, perfumy And
odor of homemade as
she does not answer him, but stands de¬
fiantly, only the irregular crackling of
her liver pad telling of the emotion that
Beryl feels, he turns away, steps through
the open window upon the veranda, and
an instant later he is lost to view.
“My God!" exclaims the girl, sob¬
bing as if she had mislaid her shoe bot
toner on matinee day. “I have driven
him away!” and hastily pushing aside
the honeysuckles that cluster around the
window she goes hastily out into the
purple twilight that hangs like a mantlo
over the earth and calls to him.
There is a little stir among the lilacs
and syringas, and an instant later
George has elapsed her to his suspender.
“And you do love me, after all?” he
asked.
She laughs softly, as if bewildered by
her sudden happiness, and then her eyes
fill with tears as she softly strokes liis
face.
“Yes, darling,” is the answer, “and
yon must come to supper now. We are
to have hot biscuits. I made them my¬
self.”
“Yon made them ?”
“Yes,” she whispers, “made them all
by myself.”
“Then,” he says coldly, “yon cannot
iove me,” and starts for the gate. The
girl follows him and cries in a low, de¬
spairing wail for him to come back. But
he does not heed her. On and on he
goes, when suddenly she sees him throw
up his arms, as the drowning man does
when battling with the very air for exist¬
ence, and disappear forever.
He had stepped into a post hole—Chi¬
cago Tribune.
The Kentucky colonel who comes tc
Little Rock and is arrested by a negre
policeman is the most outraged man it
the world. He always swears that ht
owned a hundred slaves liefore the wai
and that no infernal “nigger” shall ar¬
rest him, but he changes his mind ana
accompanies “de culTud gen’leman.”—
Arkansaw Traveler.
A Home.— The Soldiers’ Home estate
at Washington covers 502 acres. There
are 500 inmates, with 150 out pension¬
ers, who cost $8 per month. The reve¬
nue is about $160,000 a year, derived in
part from #100,000 levied by Gen.
Scott on the city of Mexico for American having
permitted guerillas to fire on
troops, and from a fee of 12i cents a
month deducted from the pay-of all sol¬
diers in the army.
QQY CRUELLY TREATED.
_
TI1E FIRST “BLOODY SHIRT” AND
HOW THE PHRASE SPREAD.
-V Typo’s Apprenticeship Sixty-six Years
a«o—A Brutal FIokkIuk and Wliat Came
ol **•
[From tho New York Star.]
j n ^j 10 g p r j U g 0 f 1817 your correspon
j e nt, then 15 years of age, was duly iu
Ventured as an apprentice to learn the
irt of plating with the firm of Kappel,
Crow & Co., publishers of the Museum
cmd Gazette, a daily morning paper in
Savannah. Michael J. Kappel was the
pri llc ip n l of tlie firm and Cosam Emire
portlet wa9 employed as editor. There
were two other apprentices, Joseph
Wliitenbury j cousins and Joseph Taylor, both of
w lom were of Mr. Kappel, and
were brought by him from Hartford,
Q oun _ Bartlet had a brother who was
foreman of the printing department, and
q le yyhole concern were boarding at the
northeast corner of Broughton and Ber
Iiar( j streets, in a genteel boarding-house
yj vs happy Lydia and Carson, industrious a widow
lady. I was in
my new employment and became infatu¬
ated with type-setting, and Mr. Kappel,
observing my proficiency, became very
partial toward me, and ordered that I
should be given occasional job work to
do, in which I displayed much skill.
Each of us boys had a routo on which
to serve the papers to the subscribers,
and this was accomplished before break¬
fast.
In tho summer of 1819 the editor,
Bartlet, took to himself a wife. Mr.
Kappel Hartford, was absent this summer on a
visit to Conn. As soon as he
left the city Bartlet took the threo ap¬
boarding-house prentices away from Mm. Carson’s
and transferred them to
his own domicile. This was undoubtedly
done for the purpose of feathering his
own pelled nest. Tho the three second boys were table, com¬ and
to eat at
the leavings were so stinty that three
boys were compelled to sell the old
newspaper exchanges bread to grocery stor's their
to buy loaves of to appease
hunger. Besides, their clothing was in
a bad plight and ragged; their shoe
leather was so worn that part of the time
they were compelled to economize by
going barefooted in carrying out tho
newspapers to subscribers. The citizens
noticed, silently, our condition. As for
myself, I never mode a complaint plantation to my
father, who lived on his five
miles from Savannah, nor to my uncle,
a magistrate in the city, nor to my
cousins. We bore our misfortunes “with
Christian fortitude and pious resigna¬
tion.”
At length resignation ceased to be a
virtue with us, mid we three held a con¬
sultation, with the result that I should
write a letter to Mr. Kappel and acquaint
him with the facts as above narrated.
This was signed by both tho other raised boys, the
and between the three we
amount of 25 cents (the then postage on
a single letter between Savannah and
Hartford), for which we had to go
hungry awhile for sacrifice of funds.
In a couple of weeks after the posting of
the letter to Mr. Kappel, Bartlet came
up from the reading room and requested
me to bring to his residence a small par¬
cel which he placed in my hand. After
. washing my hands and donning my rag¬
ged bombazine coat I started on tho
errand unconscious of what was to hap¬
pen, even after he bade me go up to the
boys’ bedroom. Ho followed me up,
and, after locking the door, he drew
forth a letter from his pocket as lie
seated himself on one of the cot beds
and remarked: “I have just received a
letter from Mr. Kappel in which he
states that he had received a letter from
you complaining of my treatment of you.
Now, tell mo what you wrote in that let¬
ter, without equivocating in the least, for
I have it nil here.”
I proceeded truthfully to relate the
contents of that letter, when ho ordered
me to take off my coat. Obeying the
command, he drew forth a brand now
rawhide he had concealed from view.
“Now it is my turn, and I’ll teach you
to write letters!”
That base wretch, with all tlie strength
he could muster, belabored my back and
limbs until he was tired. I fell, fainting,
to the floor. How long I lay there I
know not. Recovering he bade me arise.
I got upon my feet and he renewed the
attack. “I’ll make you ask for pardon
ere I stop.” Again I suffered until I
seized him by the arm and told him to
“ stop or we should go together below." out of
the window to the ground I
had received at least above a hundred
cuts from that rawhide. The coward
ceased. “Now go to the office and tell
Joseph Withenbnry to bring up a half
dozen quills to the house."
I obeyed tlie order. Joe was at his case,
setting type. “What’s up?” said he.
“Bartlet wants you to bring half a dozen
quills to the house, right away. He has
received a letter from your cousin, Kap
peL” Joe went immediately. He was the
oldest apprentice and was large for one
of his age, red-haired and a “bully boy.”
In twenty minutes Joe was back to the
office. I was seated at the head of the
back stairway that led to the yard. Joe
came to me and said that Bartlet ordered
him to go to tho “boys’room.” “He
followed me with tlie rawhide and told
me to pull off my cout,” said Joe. “I
just seized hold of him and said I was
aide to put him out of the window, and
if he did not unlock the door and let me
out immediately J should defend myself
at once—and he did so. The sneak un¬
locked the door, and here I am, undis¬
mayed. ” from
the Pretty reading soon Bartlet with came the up rawbnle
room
in his fist, and, stepping up to the press
lehind which Joseph Taylor was correct¬
ing proof, said to him:
■‘I’ll learn you to give your signature
•o letters to Kappel, you villain.”
He gave the boy about half a dozen
■flight cuts, and then came tome where I
van seated and told me to go to my work,
'lis brother—the foreman—came for¬
ward and told him that 1 was in no con
lition to work, and told me that I had
'etter go np to the house and he down
mtil to-morrow.
Instead of going to my uncle and mak
ng a complaint against the wretch, I
rent to the “boys’ room” and laid ray
.cerated limbs ujiou the cot. When
•rie of the boys came up to call me to
go to dinner I was unable to go, and he
1 irought mo a glass of water. That night
I had a raging fever, and instead of tak¬
ing off my clothing for the night as usual
I found it an impossibility to do so, as
('VC ry limbs garment was adhering to my body
and from the bloody lacerations
made by Bartlett with his rawhide. At
sunrise in the morning I arose and had
barely strength enough to reach my
uncle’s house, which was not more than
the fifth of a mile distant. He sent at
once for a physician and a negro with a
horse and buggy to bring my father to
the city. When the doctor came my
tortures were renewed in the endeavor
to detach the clothing from my wounds.
The shirt, when spread out to view, after
being removed from my quivering fiesh,
was more of red than white.
“Save that garment juntas it is; place
it carefully away,” evidence said the against doctor; the “it
will be damning committed this horrible
wretch who has
act.”
My uncle issued a warrant for Bart
let s arrest. He appeared and the gave trial
bonds for his appearance when
should come off. In a couple of weeks
u\y fever was broken up and I could
leave my bed. In the meantime Hon.
Levi S. De Lyon, an graciously eminent tendered lawyer,
came forward and
his services to conduct tlm case before a
court of three magistrates, my uncle de¬
clining to act as one of them. In a few
days after the case was called at my
uncle’s office, and the defendant made a
miserable defense. Mr. De Lyon made
a most thrilling appeal to the three pre¬
siding magistrates, holding aloft the
bloody shirt : “Look at this evidence of
cruelty. We don’t, in Georgia, use such
vile cruelty on our negro criminals, and
the law of the State forbids the use of
the rawhide upon the white inhabitants.
I, myself, when an apprentice in the
lawyer’s office, was struck with a rawhide
not a hundredth part as severely as this
child has suffered, and yet it was suf
ficent to cancel my indentures, and on
that occasion I pleaded my magistrates own case.”
A brief consultation of the
ended with a verdict for tho plaintiff, a
fine of $1,000 against the defendant and
the canceling of the indentures.
REVISED ANECDOTES.
Something In the Way ol Fable* fl-oni
Harper’s Magazine far July.
Diogenes.— Diogenes the Athenian
having by his cynical remarks induced
the citizens to believe that their rulers
were no better than they should be, and
that he had a comer on virtue and in¬
telligence, met one day at noon tho Com¬
mittee of One Hundred, and upon in¬
quiring of them their mission, was in¬
formed that ih-y were looking for an
honest man to run for Chief Magistrate
of the city on a non-partisan ticket.
“In that case, fellow-citizens," further. replied
Diogenes, “y < m need go no I
am the man \ on are looking for. Your
candidate ! will lie.” And after accept¬
ing the nomination ho added, in confi¬
dence, to tho friends in whose hands he
had placed himself, that he did not be¬
lieve hi a man hiding his lantern under a
tub.
Alexander and Bucephalus.—P hilip
of Maoedon was the possessor of a horse,
Bucephalus by name, which all liis
grooms had in v;rin endeavored to train
so that it would allow a three-ininuto
record.
His youthful son Alexander, however,
undertook tho job, and was not long in
subduing tho animal.
Tho news of this exploit having been
brought to the king, ho was not slow in
sending for his son, to whom he ad¬
dressed tho following words: “You
must seek out for yourself some
other kingdom than miue, my son, her
cause people who go into the horse
business are rarely good for anything
else.”
It was upon hearing these words that
Alexander wept to think that he would
have to conquer other kingdoms instead
of coming into one at the old man’s
death.
ClHBAR AND TnE PILOT. — C. Julius
Ccesar having occasion to make a sea
voyage, a storm sprang up, and the ves¬
sel was placed in imminent peril. freedman,
At this moment CiBsar’s
Cn. Pompilius Mucilaginus,. whispered
to his master, “Would it not be well
for you, O Cmsar, to encourage the pilot
by reminding him that he carries Closer
and his fortunes ?”
“By no means,” replied the conquer¬ and
or. "It would only rattle him; be¬
sides, if he saved us he would expect o
liberal tip.”
Mohammed and the Spider. — Tlie
Prophet Mohammed, while fleeing from
his enemies, was compelled to take ref
uge in a cave, across the month of
which a Bpider spun her web, so that the
pursuers on coming up were convinced
that no one had entered there.
Upon rejoining his family in safety the
Prophet did not fail to give an account
of his wonderfnl deliverance, and ever
afterward his young wife Ayesha, it was
observed, would rate severely or even
chastise the slaves when she had noticed
that they had neglected to sweep down
the cobwebs from the roof of the harem,
observing that people could not he too
careful about such tilings, recognition of her
Mohammed, in therenpon
affection and thoughtfulness,
adopted Ayeslia’s black petticoat as the
standard of the Arabian nation, quelling
the murmurs of the haughty chiefs, who
were reluctant to follow so feminine an
emblem to the field, by the remark that
if he, the Prophet of Allah, was so much
afraid of that petticoat, mnch more
would the infidels be terrified.
A crippled man stopped a Philadel¬
phia lawyer on the street the other please day,
and begged for alms. “Won’t yon
give a poor man, with a large starving?” family,
something to keep them from
For a wonder, the lawyer’s heart was
touched. “M.y ]>oor fellow,” he said, “I
feel for yon. 1 haven’t any change to
give you, but I tell you what I will do :
If you want a divorce, I’ll only charge
you half rates.”
Losing Money.—T he principal stock¬
holder in five Connecticut cotton mills
declares that they are running shut at an
actual loss, and would bo if the
companies did not dislike to stop their
employees’ means of livelihood.
* FOURTH OF JULY.
Distinguished Events on that Day Durln*
Three Centuries.
In Medical Truth for July, 1883, Dr.
Duscowski, gives the following table of
every important historical event which
happened on the Fourth of July since
this country was settled by European
colonists: massacred
In 1648—The Mohawks
the inhabitants of St. Joseph’s village,
Mass.
1676—Bacon of Virginia, supported by
liberty-loving colonists, triumphed over
the Royal Governor Berkeley, who was
forced to ratify all resolutions of an in¬
dependent assembly. condemned
1692—Rebecca Nurse as a
witch at Salem.
1744—A treaty of peace ratified at
Lancaster, Pa., between the Governor
of Pennsylvania, the Commissioners of
Maryland and Virginia and the Six Na¬
tions.
1754—Benjamin Franklin’s plan of
confederation of colonies against the In¬
dians and French adopted by sill except
Connecticut. Colonel George Washing¬
ton, having retreated with his starving
men from before the three times stronger
Frenchmen to Fort Necessity, capitu¬
lated to Villiers: the Americans were
permitted to leave with all honors of
war.
1775— Georgia appointed delegates to
the Continental Congress.
1776— The Declaration of Independ¬
ence signed. British soldiers landed od
Staten Island. Delaware adopts a pro¬
visional constitution.
1779—Tryon started on a raid into
Connecticut with 2,600 men, plundered and
New Haven, and burned Fairfield
Norwalk; from thence proceeded to Sag
Harbor, committing depredations every
where 17si
—Williamsburg, Va., evacuated
by the British.
1788 —Groat procession in Philadel¬
phia, celebrating the ratification of the
Federal Constitution.
1800—All children of slaves in New
York, bom on and after this day, declared
free.
1804—Bom in Salem, Nathaniel Haw¬
thorne, the well known author.
1814— -President Madison oalls for
93,500 militia against Great Britain.
1815— Trial trip of the first Fulton, steam ves¬ and
sel of war, built by Robert
called Fulton the First.
1826— Died, the ex-Presidents,
Thomas Jefferson, author of the Declar¬
ation of Independence, and John
Adams,
1827— Total abolition of slavery in
Now York.
1829—The Chesapeake and Delaware
Canal opened. —Treaty between the United
1881
Stares and Fiance, at Paris. The
French Government agreeing to pay
#5,000,000 indemnity. The first locomo¬
tive built in America, by Colonel Long,
was tried on tlio Newcastle and French
town Railway.
1845—The people of Texas ratify their
annexation to the United States.
1851—The corner stofie to the wings
of the Capitol laid at Washington.
1861—Extra session of 37th Congress.
President Lincoln recommends the rais¬
ing of 400,000 men and #400,000,000.
The Confederates erect a battery of rifled
cannon at Mathias Point. Va.
1863—Vicksburg surrenders after
many and bloody battles on land and
water. The paroled prisoners numbered
31,277, including fifteen generals.
Among the spoils of the battle were 206
siege guns, 6,000 head of cattle, 1,000
liogsheads of sugar, 380,000 pounds of
ammunition, 500 horses, #5,000,000
worth of clothing, 50,000 stand of small
arms. Confederates retreat from Ten
nossee and lose about 300 prisoners.
Alexander H. Stephens desires to confer
with the United States Government.
1864— The Enrolment act signed by
President Lincoln.
1865— Laying of tho comer-stone of
the Gettysburg Monument in Memory
1866—A destructive fire consumes one
tliird of Portland, Me. Loss $10,000,
000 .
1868—Third amnesty proclamation by
the President. National Democratic
Convention at New York.
1870—The the yacht American race across yacht Daunt¬ the At¬
lantic won by
less.
1871—Proclamation of General Grant
announcing the treaty and of Washington fall
between England America in
operation. 1874—Ground broken for the building
of the Centennial Exhibition at Phila¬
delphia. The bridge over the Mississip¬
pi, at St. Louis, one of the wonders of the
world.
After the Sparrows.
The English sparrows which have col¬
onized Pennsylvania have been doomed
by statute to extermination. But the
aggressive little plunderers in a game
of this sort with mankind hold several
strong cards of which the strongest is
their fecundity. The farmers and gar¬
deners seem ito be in earnest, however,
and will probably win in the end. They
will not waste ammunition on the birds,
but destroy their nests and eggs at breed¬
ing time. Moreover, a popular French
cook in Philadelphia asserts substitute that young for
sparrows are an admirable
reed birds, and that on numerous occa¬
sions hosts and guests alike have
eaten the former in thankfulness of heart
that Providence had provided such a
luxury as the latter. If this be so and
man’s stomach and pocket take the same
side in the contest, it is »U up with the
sparrows.
Noth i no for Charity.— Commenting
on the recent article in the Lon Ion •Spec¬
tator, showing that during the last 10
years'17 Englishmen million who pounds, died 52 had more left
more than one
than half a million, and .195 more than a
quarter of a million. Truth, of Loudon,
says thatonly.two of the millionaires were
distinguished for their philanthropy, and
that with the others “charity began and
ended at home. ”
Dividends. — The semi-annual div;
tlends payable in Boston in July aggn- of
gate $12,286,960, which is an mere se
#2 129,978 over July of last year-, hut a
decrease of $516,058 as compared with
January last
