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Over Their Graves.
Over their graves rang once the bugle’s call,
The searching shrapnel, and the crashing
ball;
The shriek, the shock of battle, and the
neigh
Of horse; the cries of anguish and dismay;
And the loud cannon’s thunders that appall.
Now through the years the brown pine
needles fall.
The vines run riot by the old stone wall,
By hedge, by meadow streamlet, far away,
Over their graves!
We k,ve our dead where’er so held in
thrall,—
Than they no Greek more bravely died, nor
Gaul,—
A love that's deathless! but they look
today
With no reproaches on us when we ^ay,
“Come! let us clasp your hands, we’re
brothers all,"
Over,their graves!
THE WEDDING JEWELS.
“Two of ’em going to be married at
once!” said Aunt Amaranth. “Well,
that’s good luck for Emily Jane. Six
girls are a dreadul dispensation of
Providence.”
“I don’t think mamma thinks so,
Amnt Amaranth,” said Lucy Pond,
coloring.
“She don’t say so, of course, out of
consideration for the feelings of you
girls,” said Aunt Amaranth, sourly;
“but there’s no sort of doubt but that
she thinks so, poor dear! I don’t know
why you couldn’t, some of you, have
had the sense to be bora boysl”
“You talk as if we did it on pur
pose,” said Lucy, half laughing.
( ( Well, how do 1 know but what
you didX’ retortel -Aunt Amaranth.
“There! you needn’t bang the dishes
about in that way. You’ve cracked
more teacups, Lucy Pond, and chipped
the edges of more saucers, in the six
weeks that you have been here, than I
did since I’ve kept house!”
Lucy’s lip quivered; the roses
deepened on her cheeks.
“I try to he careful,” said she.
“No, you don’t 1” said Aunt Ama
ranth, tartly, “You don’t try to do any
thing. except to curl your hair and fix
over your gowns and read poetry books,
when you ought to be sewing for me.
How do you expect to pay for your
board and lodging, else?”
• “Your black dress is finished, Aunt
Amaranth, and I did up all your mus
lin caps yesterday, and every pair of
silk stockings is darned so you can’t see
the joins!” eagerly speaks up Lucy.
Aunt Amaranth elevated her hands.
“There you go again!” said she.
“It’s your chief failing, Lucy Pond, to
want to argue every question that comes
up. I do wish l could break you of
that!”
■a
Lucy made no answer, but her com
pressed rose bud of a month, the two
round red spots on her cheeks, and the
mechanical drumming of her fingers on
the table noar by, evinced the unquiet
ness of her spirit.
How she would have like J to fling all
Aunt Amaranth’s ostentatious patronage
back in her face, and return to the little
city house where the five other sisters
were all happy together! But that was
quite out of the question.
Mrs. Pond was poor; it cost a great
deal to live. Lucy, after all, was only
one of six, and it had been considered a
fine thing for the little maiden when
Aunt Amaranth Jay had given lier a
grudging invitation to come and visit
her. And here were Clara and Bessie
to bo married to young Dr. Clifford and
Harry McYicker—yes, Aunt Amaranth
was right, it did seem as if the sun
of good luck were rising on the Pond
horizon once more.
“I suppose,” said Aunt Amaranth,
still following up the thread of her re
flections as she knitted steadily away at
her black silk mitten, “they’ll expect
some sort of a wedding present, from
me.”
“I don't think they’ll expect any
thing of the sort, Aunt Amaranth.”
“Girls always do. Well, let me see.
I’m not rich, but there’s that solid sil
ver salvei- of mine. I could have the
initials rubbed out and replaced with
*C. IV for Clara Pond, and I’ve kept
that set of family jewels all these
years—■”
“Oh, Aunt Amaranth, don’t.”
“Brooch and ear-riugs!" authorita
tively enunciated the old lady. “Girls
always like trinkets. Bessie is the eld
est. Bessie shall have the pin and ear
ly-* drops. They ought to go in the fami
But when this news reached the Pond
tribe great was the consternation it pro
duced.
SCHLEY COUNTY NEWS.
“Aunt Amaranth’s opals, indeed!’
said Bessie, a tall, slim, young brunette.
“I wouldn’t have’em if you were to
give me a thousand dollars, Of all
gems, opals are the unluckiest!”
i i My dear, that’s all nonsense!’’ said
Mrs. Pond, a gentle, dove-eyed little
widow, with golden hair streaked with
silver. “I’ve been wishing we could
afford you a pretty set of topaz, or some
thing, and—”
“But I wouldn’t wear opals,” said
Bessie.
“Well, then, suppose you take the
salver, and Clara—”
“No, thanks!’’ said Clara, with a
toss of the yellow head that was like
her mother’s. “I don’t want any sec
ond-hand ill-luck, either.”
“But what will your aunt think?”
11 What she pleases,” said Clara.
“She is so kind to dear Lucy.”
“I am sure that’s no merit on her
part,” said Bessie. “No one ‘could
help being kind to Lucy.”
“What am I to say to her?” sighed
Mrs. Pond. *
“The truth, mamma, of course.”
Undoubtedly this was good advice,
yet the truth is by no means always pal
atable.
Auut Amaranth was very angry.
“The jewels were good enough for
the Jay family,” said she. “1 don’t
know why the Ponds shou’d turn up
their noses at ’em. However, let ’em
do as they please. Its their business,
not mine, if Bessie chooses to do with
out her wedding present. What is it,
Lucy? the minister again? It seems to
me he calls pretty often, don’t he?”
“Y-yes, perhaps ho does,” admitted
Lucy, with downcast eyelashes.
“Can’t you see what I 13 wants? ’
“He asked for you, Aunt Amaranth.”
“Well, I suppose I must go in and
see him,’' said the old lady, adjusting
her cap ribbons. “He’s a very good
young man. That last Sunday’s ser
mon of his w is really very good for a
beginner.”
She went in complacently, but when
she came out, she looked reproachfully
at Lucy.
“Lucy,” said she, “is this true?”
Lucy hung down her head.
“Why didn’t you tell me before?”
“I—I thought you must surely see
it for yourself,” murmured Lucy.
“Well, I suppose I hive been blinder
than any bat!” sighed the old lady.
“It never once occurred to me that you
would make any sort of
wife.”
“I mean to try my be9t, Aunt Ama
ranth.”
“And he wants you to be married
right away. Well, you’ve been a good
girl, Lucy,” reluctantly conceled the
old lady, “and we’ll go shopping this
afternoon and get you a gown or two,
and a bonnet aud a shawl. I suppose
you'll want to go honm and be married
where Clara and Bessie are?”
“If you don't object, aunt.”
“Much good my objecting would do,”
said the shrewd old lady, “Well,
well, young folks will be young folks,
and I must look out for a wedding pres
ent for you now.”
Lucy lifted her soft brown eyes to
Aunt Amaranth’s face. She ha l pitie 1
the old lady's discomfiture when the
opals had been so ruthlessly rejected by
the other two brides.
“Aunt Amaranth,” said she, “you
need not look out for anything new for
me. You have spent a deal of money
on mo already, and you are propos
ing to spend more. And if you don’t
mind, why shouldn’t I wear the jewels
—the old family jewels—that you were
going to give to Bessie?”
“Would you like them?” sharply de^
mnnded Aunt Amaranth.
“Yes.”
Yov have no silly prejudice against
opals?”
“No, Aunt Amaranth.”
“Do you like them?”
“I am sure that 1 shall like anything
that you give me, Aunt Amaranth,”
said she, “whatever it is. ”
t l Humph,” said the old lady. “You
are a good girl.”
Great was the cooing and chattering
when the three brides-clect were togeth
er in the little red-brick city house,
each working on her own trousseau—
for the Ponds were poor an 1 dressmak
ers’ bills were not to be thought of.
But Lucy had shared the best of all,
through Aunt Amaranth’s unlooked-for
generosity.
“She has been so good!” said Lucy,
with sparkling eyes. “Oil, I’m so
sorry that I ever wa« crow or uopat to
her!”
“For all that,” said Clara, “it would
take more than Aunt Amaranth’s silk
gowns and pretty embroideries to in
duce me to wear those hideous opals of
hers.”
“I would wear anything to please
Aunt Amaranth,” said loyal Lucy.
“Suppose you show them to us,”
said Clara.
4« Oh, I have not come into posses
sion of them yet,” said Lucy. “Aunt
Amaranth is to bring them when she
comes to the wedding.”
‘ You won’t wear them to be mar
ried in?"
“If Aunt Amaranth wishes it, I
wil'.”
And to this resolution Lucy bravely
adhered, in spite of logic, persuasion
or ridicule.
It was the night before the triple
wedding. Aunt Amaranth, fresh from
her journey, was drinking tea and eat
ing cold chicken at a corner of the table,
and asking innumerable questions.
“Only three girls left, eh, Em ly
Jane?” said the old lady, “Well, if
they’re all as good as Lucy here, I
almost wish they were mine, B ,-the
way,here’s Lucy's brooch and earrings.”
Mrs. Pond glanced timidly at the
lilac-velvct case. In her secret heart
she, too, feared the reputed ill-luck of
opals; yet Aunt Amaranth wa3 by far
too important a person to offend.
“Do you want to put ’em on?” said
the old lady, abruptly, to her favorite
neice.
“Yes, Auut Amarauth,” sail Lucy
smiling.
“He’s coming tonight, I suppose!”
“Oh, cf course!”
4 t I should like him to see you wear
ing them,” sai 1 Miss Jay, complacently.
“Then 1 will put them ou,” said
Lucy, taking up the case.
“Let, me do it, my dear,” said Auut
Amaranth.
Two drops of fiery dew, across of
glittering white stones, flished at Lucy’s
throat and iu her little, shell-like cars.
“Oh, Aunt Amaranth!” she cried
out.
“Diamonds!” screamed Clara.
“But I thought,” stammered Bessie,
“that they were opals!”
“So they were once upon a time,’
said the old lady. “But I got tired
of ’em. 1 never did fancy colored
stones. So last year I changed ’em off,
by adding a little to the sum total, and
got the diamonds instead. Diamonds
are the thing for a bride—eh, Lucy ?”
“But, Aunt Amaranth,” pleaded
Lucy, “they are a deal too good for
me.”
“Not a bit,” said the old lad/ stout
ly. “They’re not a particle brighter
than those eyes of yours. > >
And of all the three brides, gentle
little Lucy shone most radiantly, with
the famiiy jewels, on her marriage day.
“If we had only known!” said Clara.
“Oh, if!” cried Bessie.
i ■ If is a big word for a little one I”
said Aunt Amaranth. “You took your
own choice* girls.”— lie eu Forest
Graves.
Night Sights in New York Streetcars.
Late at night one sees many curious
scenes iu the street cars, says a New
York correspondent of the Chicago
Herald. Coining from the theatre the
other night I witnessed one that im
pressed me quite a bit. Tiie ear was
full of people returning from various
theatres. There was a pretty girl snug
gling up under the wing of her es
cort; the prosaic married couple who
stared straight before them; an old
German decidedly the worse for beer;
a girl with a tawdry, yellow wig and
a cheap cotton jersey, and rhine
stones in her ears. There entered the
dirtiest, weariest, saddest, oldeit-faced
little wretch of a newsboy, who of
fered his papers. No one heeded the
begrimed, entreating paw. He was
about to plunge off the car Vlien a
well-dressed man who looked if he
might have been dining out, oillel the
child, and much to his amaze 1 awe,
bought his entire stock. The little fel
low, who looked as Moses may when
the manna dropped from heaven, sprang
from the car and was lost iu the
darkness. The swell amused himself
by tearing the paper into bits and cast
ing them out into the night.
A Groat Men sail on.
It Hello, Penjab,” said one reporter
to another, “looking for a sensation?”
“No, I discovered one last night.”
“How?”
“By stepping on a tack while I was
walking with the baby .”—Merchant
Traveler.
NAMING THE SHIPS.
How Titles Repeat Themselves
in the Navy.
The Naval Department Un
moved by Superstition.
The approaching launch of cruiser
No. 5, says a Washington letter to the
New York Sun, has brought to the
navy department a curious remons
trance against formally fastening upon
hex the name of San Francisco, on the
ground that it is unlucky for a sea
going ship. What is most singular is
that this suggestion comes from the
Pacific coast, which as a whole is tak
ing pride in the honor propose! for
its chief city; and all the more because
the first vessel built by the Union Iron
works for the government received the
name of an Atlantic sea-board city.
Even were the notion more widely
shared, the Navy Department would
hardly lend itself to propping up super
stitious theories especiady to the detri
ment of a city. It would quickly get
into hot water on the subject, and on
every occasion of wrecks, either in its
own service or in the merchant marine,
might be forced to go through a process
of rechristening, like the renaming
of streets m Paris after a revolution.
Besides, San Francisco is really a wholly
new name in our naval nomenclature.
So also are Chicago, Charleston, and
Newark. Atlanta would be, had not a
Confederate ram of that name been
captured during the civil war and added
to the Government forces. The armored
vessels Maine and Texas also have names
new to the navy, as have several of the
double-ferret monitors. Yet it is safe
to say that should the list of the mer
chant marine be ransacked, more than
one of these namci new to our Govern
ment vesiels would be found attached
to vessels that have met disaster.
Other names in our new steel fleet
reproduce those of vessels that have
met with ill fortune. For example,
the first Philadelphia was sunk in battle
with the ^British on Lake Champlain,
and the second was wrecked oil Tripoli
and her officers and crew taken prison
ers, while she was recaptured by Deca
tur only to be burned. Yet who does
not feel satisfied in giving to the fine
new cruiser launched the other day the
name of Biinbridge’s gallant 36-gun
frigate? Two other Philadelphian seem
to have ended their careers more quietly.
There have been several Baltimores in
our service, one of which, after cap
turing an English brig during the war
of 1812, was herself captured by the
enemy. The others have no hard luck
recorded against them. We had one
Vesuvius, a bomb vessel, which ran
ashore and lost her guns the first year
of her purchase, while another, also a
bomb vessel, had better fortune. Our
first Yorktown was wrecked in the Capo
de Verde Islands, although eventually
recovered, while two privateers of the
same name, after doing a great deal of
damage to British commerce, were them
selves captured. Sixty years ago our
navy had a Concord, which was lost on
the east coast of Africa. Dolphins by
the dozen have been in our service,
taking together st ite privateers and the
regular navy, Several of them were
captured, but many more had good
fortune. There have been five Bostons
in the regular navy, one of which was
sunk in battle, while a second was cap
tured by the British at the surrender of
Charleston, and a third was burned at
Washington in 1814, so that she might
not fall into the hands of the British
when they entered the city. The fourth
Boston was wreckc l an 1 lost in the
West Indies.
It is clear from these examples, con
fined to the comparatively few names
yet chosen for our new navy, that it
would not be easy to choose appropriate
names guaranteed to have been wholly
unconnected at any time and in any
place with ill fortune. The case would
appear stronger on taking up iu the
same way names of vessels in the old
wooden navy, many of which have been
duplicated on several vessels. Of
course, the Navy Department might
not attach to a new vcisel the name of
its illfated Huron, when a thousand
others were equally available; but it
could not afford to examine the records
of thousands of merchant vessels in
this and other countries, in order to
be sure that a nama it had selected had
never at any time been associated with
some disaster. Indeed, for that matter,
the merchant marine is itself not over
sensitive. Ih old times it was easier
to select total novelties, and supersti
tions were more respected; but nowa
days it would be almost as idle to at
tempt to look up all the former uses of
a proposed naval name as to make a
a study of the comparative good and
Hi fortune of a name to be given to
a
child. A happy instance of a challenge
to omens has occurred, in the naming
of the splendid new racer, City 0 f
Paris.
As to the selection of names, it j,
subject in our navy to statutes, which
prescribe that vessels of certain ratings
shall be called after cities or rivers • r
states, as the case may be, while others
are governed in this respect by official
choice. These statutes may not always
have been strictly observed, or at all
events there has been some apparent
confusion through the different classiti
cation of ironclads and other vessels,
tonnage measurement, being applied to
the former and tonnage displacement to
the latter. But the selection of the
names of cities and states has in general
followed the statute requirements in the
new steel fleet. No doubt vessels like
the San Francisco, the Newark and the
Chicago, whose names have never before
been used iu the naval service, although
fiequent enough in the merchant marine
will find very much the sama fortune
as the Boston, Philadelphia and Balti
more, and for all, let it be hoped, good
luck surpasses the bad.
Cured of Ills Sleepiness.
The recent railroad disasters, say3 the
Chicago Herald, has recalled a number
of stories regarding the carelessness of
engineers and other men in the opera
ting department of . railroads. An old
railroader was telling recently of the
time when he used to be conductor of a
freight train. It was his misfortune to
have an abnormally lazy engineer, who
would go to sleep on the slightest
provocation. Wnenever the train was
sidetracked to wait the passage of an
express train the engineer would Mo
down on his seat in the cab, prop his
feet up against the boiler bead and go
fast asleep, lie ■would remain that way
uutil the noise of the flying express
awoke him. Then he would yawn aud
prepare to pull out. Tile boys in the
train crew did not like this. 4 i Why
can’t he stay awake and watch for sig
nals as we do?” asked one of them one
night, as the long train was on a siding
waiting for the arrival of “INo
6 .” “Well, , why don’t you see
that he keeps awake?” asked Iho
old railroader, who was in charge of
the train. “I will,” said the br£â€“e
man. With the assistance of the oilier
boys he firmly set the brakes along the
train and then hung a red lantern from
the roof of the engine eab so that it
was hanging in front of the window
just in front of the slumbering engi
neer. These preparations made he put
his foot on the old- fash:one l crank
whistle and there was an awful shriek.
The engineer jumped up and saw the
red light. Confused for the moment
he thought lie was about to run into the
rear end of another train, so he reverse l
his engine and jumped into the ditch,
nearly breaking his neck. Of course
the engine did not move a peg. The
boys were all back in the way-car by
this time, and when the sleepy engineer
recovered himself aud limped up out of
the ditch he thought he must have been
dreaming. However, lie lost a year’s
growth and never went to sleep at his
post after that. He was cured*
He Must Be In Love.
There is a man living in Hartford,
Conn., who deserves the prize for ab
sent-mindedness. A few days ago he
was having his loots blacked bv an
Italian street bootblack. Just as the
job was finished and iho gettlcraan had
picked out a nickel from his purse an
acquaintance sloped up and began
talking. The gentleman absent-mind
edly put the nickel in his pocket and
gave the purso to the bootblack, who
seized it and disappeared. The purse
contained $2.15. Since that time the
Italian has been asked tj give it up but
refused. Bo the gentleman had him ar
rested.— Chicago Hom'd.
A White Peacock.
The Zoological Society of London
has just received a while peacock. This
bird preserves the markings which die
tinguish the species, particularly the
largo eye-like spots on the tail feathers.
The effect of the3o spots is most re
markabio. They are exactly liko the
pattern on a damask table-oloth.