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The Right Will Right Itself. When overcome with anxious fears And moved with passion strong, Because the right seems losing ground And everything goes wrong, How oft does admonition say: “Put trouble on the shelf; fc'ruth will outlive the liar's day, Aud Right will rigid itself!” By all the triumphs of the past, By all the victories won. I’he good achieved, the progress made Each day from sun to sun; In spite of artful ways employed By perfidy or pelf. Of one thing we can rest assured, The Right will right itself! Unshaken in our faith and zeal, ’Tis ours to do and dare, To find the place we best can fill, And serve our Maker there; For he is only brave who thus Puts trouble on the shelf, And trusts in Ood, for by IIU aid The Right will right itself. — [.Josephine Pollaidin the Ledger. WHAT THE WOMEN DID. ■JY HELEN FORREST GRAVES. It was oue of those June days when the wild roses dye all the woods with deepest pink and the farmer begins meditatively to decide which of his fields will first be ripe for the glitter¬ ing scythe. Mr. Chipfield sat by the window, with his farm calendar and account- books piled upon the low wooden sill, a stumpy pen in his hand and a cone- shaped glass inkstand on the table be¬ fore him. A close prisoner within his house from acute rheumatism, he yet ruled his domain with a rod of iron, and boasted that everything on the farm went by clockwork, the same as if he were able personally to supervise it. He was a small, sallow man with bead-like black eyes, close-cut hair and a grim, Napoleonic jaw. By the opposite door 6at Mrs. Chip- field, a clean gingham apron tied hur¬ riedly over her charming costume, while Joanna, her red-cheeked sister, leaned over the back of her chair. The minister stood in the middle of the room, a paper in his hand. “It’s a very commendable purpose, Brother Chipfield,” said he. “These poor creatures have long needed a chapel in their midst, and it’s aw out¬ rage longer to neglect it. How much shall I put you down for?” • “For nothing at all,” said Mr. Chip- field. “Eh?” said the minister. “I can't afford no such luxury as domestic missions,” said Mr. Chip- field. “Times are hard. Farm pro¬ duce is low- No, you needn’t put my name down at all, parson.” Mr. Clover turned to Mrs. Chip- field. “Generally,” said he, “the ladies are more generous, What AVill you give me, Sister Chipfield?” “I haven’t a cent to give,” faltered Mrs. Chipfield, with an appealing glance at her husband. “Chipfield buys every yard of calico I wear and gives me every cent I send out for yeast.” The minister looked very grave. “And you. Miss Joanna?” said lie. “I'd give you a hundred dollars,Mr. CloA'er, if I had it, cried Joanna, blushing to the roots of her shining, chestnut brown hair. “But the poor¬ est beggar in the city streets ain’t poor¬ er than I am.” “Humph!” said Mr. Clover, “where shall I find Mr. Zephaniah Gedney?” There Avas a moment’s silence. Mr. Chipfield stared straight out of the window. Mrs. Chipfield turned her face away. Joanna Gedney was the one to speak at last. “We don't know,” said she. “He went away this morning, Seth told him he wouldn’t have him idling round the place no longer.” “I sup; ose he would have worked if he could find something to do,” said Mr. Clover. “This ain’t no house of refuge for all the drones iu creation,” said Mr. Chipfield, with the Napoleonic jaw set square and firm. “Them that won't work, neither shall they eat.” Mrs. Chipfield’s apron was at her eyes. Joanna bit her lip. The minister gathered his papers to¬ gether and departed, not greatly en¬ couraged by the success of his mission in this especial household. ‘What are you standing there for, Mary?” said Mr. Chipfield, harshly. ♦‘Ain’t that there churning sp’iling? Go and drive the red calf outen the truck-garding, Joanna, as quick as you can!” “Seth,” cried his wife, with a sud¬ den accession of courage, “I wb^i you'd do like Squire Staples, and give me an allowance, that I could maybe save out of.” “And 1 wish,” valiantly added Jo¬ anna, “that you’d pay me fair wages for what I do in this house over and above my board’s worth. 1 declare, I felt justlike a pauper just now!” Seth Chipfield snarled like an ill- conditioned dog. “Because Squire Staples is a fool,” said he, “that’s no season I should be one. And as for you, Joanna Gcd- ney, if you don’t like stayin’ in my house on these terms, you can leave it. It passes me what use you wo¬ men can have for money. You'd only waste it if you had it. I can't trust neither of you with no sum bigger than a dime!” Joanna’s eyes flashed. “You’re a mean, stingy miser, Seth Chipfield!” said she. “Mary is tied to you. She can’t go and leave you, but I can, and I will! And if you want a drudge in your kitchen after this, you can hire one!” Joanna Gedney wus as good as her word. She left the house that even- ing, but on the morrow she was obliged to return to her sister’s aid. Seth Chiptield’s ailment had suddenly taken an inflammatory turn. He was confined to his bed, helpless as a log. “It’s a judgment on him,” said the girl. “Oh, Joanna, don’t talk so!” said meek Mrs. Chipfield. But through all his pangs and tribu¬ lations, Seth adhered to his financial policy and dealt out the funds, penny by penny, as they were needed. “Women hain’t no business idees,” said he. “You need to treat ’em jest like they was children. Mary wouldn’t know what to do with a big sum of money, if she had it. As for the farm, if Peter Prickett can't come to look arter it, I s’pose you’ll have to send for Zephaniah again.” “Zephaniah’s clerking it, down at the new store,” said Joanna, who just then came in with a bowl of chicken broth. “What new store?” “One that they’ve opened down at the cross roads.” “A pretty clerk they’ll have,” snarled Seth. “I’d advise ’em to get ready for bankruptcy, an’—ow! there’s no need to scald a fellow’s throat with your boiling hot stutt', Jo¬ anna! Who’s been fool enough to open a store at Hawley’s old stand? Whoever it is ’ll make a dead failure, that’s sartain!” “They say it’s doing a good busi¬ ness,” observed Joanna, stirring the broth around to cool it. “Don’t you never believe ‘they say!’” growled Seth. The next day bad tidings came to them. The Necker Banking Com¬ pany, in which Chipfield’s little sav¬ ings were invested, had closed its doors. The Wilding Iron Syndicate, to join which he had mortgaged his farm, had deserted its shafts, left its derricks standing like skeletons against the mountain side and dis¬ solved into thin air. Seth heard the news silently. “Mary, ’ said he, “give me the old pistol that belonged to Great-uncle Jeduthum. I may as well clean and oil it, lyin’ here with nothing to do.” “I won’t give it to you, Seth Chip- field !” said his wife. “I can read your eyes, if I can’t trust your voice; and you shan't have Great-uncle Jedu- thum’s pistol!’’ Seth turned his face aside. A tear, salt as the Dead Sea and bitter as gall, crept down his wrinkled face. “If a man’s ruined,” said he, “the best thing he can do will be to die! Oh, what a fool I’ve been—what a fool!” Joanna Gedney Aivatched him in- tently. “I guess likely you wish noAv,” said she, “you’d subscribed somethin’ to Mr. Clover s mission, and laid pipes to the well to save Mary carrying water up the hill, and bought her the black silk gown she wanted—” “Don’t! Joanna!” pleaded Mrs. Chipfield. “Yes, I do,” said Seth. “There, now—I wish it like all everlasting! The old farm will have to go, Mary, You and Joanner ’ll have to go out to service, and me— Well, there’s always the town-hou9e for me. I’ve brought it on myself!” “Seth,” cried Mrs. Chipfield, “don’t take on so! The farm won’t have to go. Me and Joanna will take care o' that. And there ain’t no question of the poor-house for you. Tell him, Joanna—tell him what we've done!” “It was my plan,” said Joanna, “but Mary she joined into it, and Zephaniah he backed us up. It’s our store down at the Cross Hoads, Seth, and 1 bought the goods down in Phila¬ delphia, and hired the house and put Zephaniah in to clerk it. And we’ve doubled our money a’ready, Seth, for all you used so often to declare that women hadn't no business ideas; and we’ve done a capital business in cali¬ coes and crockery and canned things and Yankee notions. And we've paid back all we borrowed of Squire Sta¬ ples, and got a nice little sum of money in the bank a'ready—our own money, Seth, that we don't have to go begging to no man arter. And you needn’t fret about the mortgage and the Wilding Company and the poor- house, for Mary and mo will take care of you!” Seth Chipfield gave a little gasp. “You — ain’t —jokin’—be — you?’ said he. “I’ll show you the bank-books, if you want,” said Joanna, briskly. “Ah, Seth, you never had no respect for what you used to call our money faculty, but Mary and I know what colors women liked in their gowns, and what the best brand in flannels was, and which pattern in bowls and tea saucers was fancied most at Hill Hollow! “We ain’t a bad pair of mer¬ chants; give us plenty o’money and discretion combined to use.” Mary Chipfield looked wistfully at her husband as Joanna went away to produce the volichers for her words, in the shape of leather-bound bank¬ books. “Seth,” faltered she, “you ain’t mad with me, be you? But Joanna, she planned it all out, and I was so put to it for a little money to spend “Mad with you?” repeated Oeth. “I’m mad with myself. I jest wish I could undo all the last ten years!” He lay quite silent for some time. Then he spoke up. “If I had jest a hundred dollars left outen the ruin,” said he, “I know what I’d do with it.” “What?” asked Mary, who was si¬ lently rubbing his pain-swollen joint! with liniment. “I’d send for the parson, and give it to him for that ’ere mission. When a fellow has turned his back on the Lord he can’t expect the Lord to look out for him.” “There needn't be no ‘if’ in the matter, Seth,” said his wile. “Me and Joanna will draw out the money you want any time you say.” “Yes, that we will,” acquiesced Joanna, eagerly. Seth Chipfield lifted his eyes re* morseful ly to her face. “You ain't following my example,’’ said he. i 4 I Avouldn’t let you have nothin’ to subscribe.” Joanna laughed cheerily. “We'll let bygones be bygones,” said she, “if only you’ll own up,Seth, that women can manage money.” And Seth “owned up."’—[Saturday Night. Glimpses of the Sultan’s Treasures. In a letter from Bucharest, Colonel A. Loudon Snowden, United States minister to Greece, Servia aud liou- mauia, gives the following account of an experience in the far East: “On my way here I stopped over in Constantinople for a feAV days, visit¬ ing the objects of interest in that re¬ markable city. The Sultan designated an aide-de-camp, avIio conducted us to such places of especial interest as the general A’isitor is not expected or per¬ mitted to see. The treasure house of (jj e Sultan, Avhich contains the ac- cumulations of centuries, is simply in- j e scribable. Here are stored dia- mon ds, emeralds, pearls, and other precious stones, such as exist in no other p]ace in the wor ld, and in quan _ titles beyond calculation as to value. The palaces on the Bosphorus are mar¬ vels of beauty and splendor.” Encouraging. Nimrod Stoutleigli—Any shooting here, my boy? Native—Yessir. Dad just shot a man dressed like you.—[The Argosy. THE LAST ROUND UP. nd of Cattle Grazing on Land Occupied by Indians. A Ring of Horsemen Around Twenty Acres of Cattle. The last general round up ever to be on Indian lands has been made. E. M. Hewins, president of the Cherokee Strip Live Stock Association, has rounded his herd of six thousand cat¬ tle in the Osage Nation, which was the only large herd in the Indian country remaining. The round up will be re¬ membered as the end of cattle grazing, not only in the Osage country, but in all the territory heretofore leased by the Indians to cattle men. The spring round ups began on the western edge of the “Cherokee strip.” The rounders worked from pasture to pasture eastward until the Osage Na¬ tion was reached and the end had come. On a recent Thursday all the cow¬ boys oil the Hewins ranch were in the saddle at 4 o'clock, and by 11 o’clock the sixty-five thousand acre pasture had been thoroughly surrounded and the cattle were gradually moving to¬ ward the centre of the range, where the round up was to take place. By 9 o’clock nearly seven thousand cattle, including strays, had been gathered into a radius of about three miles square. Then began the careful work of closing in without causing a stam¬ pede. Slowly the cattle were brought up over a raise, the summit of which overlooked Alum Creek Valley, about ten miles south of the northern Terri¬ torial boundary. Beyond the summit was a basin forming a huge circle, comprising an area containing about four thousand acres, and in that the round tip was to take place. A moment later and a stampede seemed inevitable. The steers had sighted the grove of shade trees and the daring and skilful riders were scarcely seeu and nothing heeded as the mad rush was made toward the grove. • Those of the spectators who had seen such sights beiore knew at once what the result would be, and they immediately apprised the others that it would be wise for everyone to make hurried arrangements to climb the nearest trees. And this was done barely in time, for on came the herd running madly, heeding nothing, un¬ til fully half of it had dashed across and beyond the stream, raising a cloud of dust that for a time obscured all the surroundings, and laying waste all that was in their way. After another hour’s hard driving the entire herd was again surrounded and forced into submission down in the lowland. When this was accomplished the picture became intensely interesting. The outsiders were indeed masters of the situation as they patrolled the rear line of tiie beard's onward march. A hundred expert horsemen were then in sitflit forming a ring on the outside of the herd that \v T as meant to be and did prove to be impassable. L .ch horse- man led from tivo to three horses, changing from time to time to a fresh steed. All this time the “cut-out” ex- perts leading these extra horses came up leisurely in the rear. At ele\ r en o’clock the round-up had been made and the majority of the rounders gal¬ loped away toward the “chuck” wagon for dinner, Avl.ile a feAV of their number kept the herd from spreading. The cattle were at this time thorough' massed and standing side by side. As they stood they covered an area of from twenty to tAventy-five acres. As they uioA*ed sIoavIv and restlessly among each other they had the ap¬ pearance of a great SAvarm of bees. Presently there began a concerted sIoav movement called “milling,” and soon the dust became so dense that the* whole scene Avas enveloped, and not eA*en the daring coAvboys could be discerned. This Avas kept up for about fifteen minutes, Avhen a passing gust of wind bore the clouds of dust west and revealed the herd once more quieted and the cowboys in command. — [New York Herald. Favorably Impressed. Interviewer— Are you favorably im¬ pressed with this country? Eminent Lecturer—Very. I'm rak¬ ing in a thousand dollars a week.— [New York Weekly. Health Rules in Hot >V eut|l A natural consequence of tij extreme heat in Chicago r pendence of people upon Physj and the desire to secure medii vice upon the care of the health ing warm weather. Some of received in physicians’ may be usefully considered • parts of the country subject to waves; even a reiteration 0 f known health maxims is not sir ous. The Chicago physicians that it was a dangerous expert try to keep cool by drinking a ) c , liquors, and this advice was tesh the fact that more than half ofp tints of sunstroke in that city ^ e . customed to drink alcoholic liq^ Carbonated waters were reco !u ed as excellent preventives. Mill cold acid drinks, like lemonade other fruit beverages, taken fr eo ly and a little at a time, tvere posed as healthful, but ice-water placed under the ban of disam» * *— Rules were made in regard to proper kind of wearing apparel the physicians declared that 1 clothes should not be worn, ganj biitl light-colored, light-weight tvoj should be chosen in warm In mentioning the diet, it was J asserted that much meat should J eaten, but that vegetables and II should form the warm weal staples. | One of the most important nJ rules was that against mental amlj sical exertion. In Chicago, where is urged forward in an intense rid for wealth, such advice would be pecially necessary, but in all ty American communities it is worth j sideration. Even those summer sorters who are supposed to find as well as refreshment during thei mer months are with strained from pursuing pleasure wil great amount of physical and mei exertion. The energetic Ameri temperament takes little account weather changes, and medical wan is particularly needed at this the year.— [Boston Herald. Millionaire and Bootblack. A bootblack walked into the oi of Mr. Armour, lie had none of outfit with him, but the bootblacki stamped In his face and all over He went to the gate where a gui stands between his post and the gre est packer in the world. “W’ere’s de ole man?” asked urchin. The guard told the boy to get “You tell de ole man dat I Avant see him. I want to see him alone. don’t want to bodder you ner de ( man. But I want to see de ole mi an’ 1 Avant to see him right off.” Mr. Armour at his desk the ragged request. “Let that come in here,” he called to the man on the gate. The urchin a proached Mr. Armour in a busine* like way. There were no prelinriusfl compliments. “Sav.” spoke the urchin, “I toot nap out dere m de alley, and Av'il* A\’as asleep some o’ dem kids frointl board o’ trade come along and strip 1 (stole) my kit an’ I’m short, ter borrar a dollar to buy me a I’ll pay you back on dc flan. See?” Mr. Armour handed the boy ' silver dollars and told him to go. 0 the boy handed back one of the dolkfl and said: 1 “I doan’ Avant but one. I‘na gwj o'J to pay it back, and acre's no use man goin’ in deeper’n liis head, l a n keep my head above dc water.” The truth of the aboA*e the story sew j A’ouched for by one avIio suav and overheard the conversation! Tribune. Got It Wrong After All. A Windsor Locks little gii'U old enough to enter the infant class sj the Sunday scliqol, avus ambitious repeat a text of Scripture as the o M ones did at the concert exercises, humor her ambition and make it re sonably certain that she would ?u ceed, the mother selected the text, “It is lawful to do good on 1 Sabbath day,” and taught her n® she rehearsed it several times correct 1 !' When the supreme moment arriH however, the little orator electric her audience and mortified her mo” with the proposition that “It is to do good on the riiabbath daf- ‘ [Hartford Post.