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THE SHEEPFOLD.
P® muu ob do ftheepfol'
Dat guard de sheepfol’ bln,
Look out iu de gloomerin’ meadows
Wliar do long night rain begin—
Bo he call to the birelitf ► liepa’d,
la my ahoep, la dey all come in ?
Oh, den saya dc hirlin’ ebopa’d,
Dey’a aome, dey’a black and thin,
And aome, dey’a po* ol’ wodda'a,
Put dc rtV dey’a all brung in,
But tie rea* dey’a all bruug in,
Den dc masaa oh do eheepfol’
Dat guard de sheepfol* bin,
Goon down in degloomering meadows,
Wliar de long night rain begin—
So he le’ down de ha's ob de sheepfol*
Callin' aof, Come in, Come in,
Callin' aof, Come in, Come in t
Den up t’ro’ de gloomerin’ meadows,
T’ro’ de col’ night rain and win’,
And up fro’ de gloomerin’ raiu-paf
Whar the pleet fa’ pie’oin’ thin.
De po' loa’ sheep ob de aheepfol'
Dey all cornea gadderin' in,
De po’ loa’ sheep ob de aheepfol*
Dey all comes gadderin’ in.
A. Little Hero.
BY FRANK H. STAUFFER,
The main line hod concluded to build
a branch road to E-. Between the
former and the latter were two small
towns, Bameston and Shenstone, both
of whioh made strenuous efforts to have
the branch line pass through thoir
place. Shenstone was the larger and
wealthier of the two; the business men
subscribed liberally to the stock, and
were in great glee when the surveyors
made their appearance in the town.
The inhabitants of Bameston were cor¬
respondingly disappointed, and gave up
the fight. But, muoh to their amaze¬
ment, their village was finally seleoted
and Shenstone left in the lnroh; and
they were still further amazed when
they learned that it had been brought
about by a boy to whom they had never
given muoh credit either for shrewdness
or tenacity.
His name was Fred Sedgwick, aid. and he
was not more than 14 years He
was an observant fellow, however, and
generally arrived at oorreot conclusions.
An idea had seized him in oonneotion
with the rivalry between the two towns;
it was a practical idea, and he deter¬
mined to make the most of it.
A gentleman stopped at the only hotel
in the plaoe, one hot summer afternoon.
His name was Lynoh, and he was the
chief engineer of the surveying party.
When Fred heard of his arrival he con¬
cluded to call upon him, and found him
seated upon one of the porches of the
hotel
“I wish to talk to you about the pro¬
posed railroad, sir,” Fred said, remov¬
ing his hat, his tone and attitude re
speotfu!. t
The surveyor was a genial man, and
was especially partial to boys. He
glanced into Fred’s honest faoe, and
said, with an enoouraging smile:
“It is to be an interview, eh ? Well,
consider me at your leisure.”
“I believe it has been deoided to run
the road through Shenstone,” remarked
Fred, without any preliminary skirmish
ing.
“Yes,” replied Mr. Lynch. “The
people have agreed to take $75,000
worth of stock, and have offered to pre¬
sent us with a lot of ground for a station.
They have even promised to furnish the
stone to bnild it. Barnes ton’s a sleepy
old plaoe, you see.”
“Well, may be it is,” tardily assented
Fred. “That is all the more reason why
it ought to be wakened up. Won’t it
costa great deal to take the road to
Shenstone ? In the way of deep cuts
and trestle-work, I mean ?”
“A great deal, my boy,” replied the
surveyor.
“More than it would to bring it along
that ridge, yonder ?” asked Fred, point
ing. air.”
“Cohaiderably more,
“More than the $75,000 subscribed by
the people of Shenstone?’' persisted
lfaMi
"At least u much,' vu toe answer
be received.
He was silent for a minute, an in¬
tensely thonghtfnl look upon his face.
Mr. Lynch watched him, impressed
with his appearanoe and his direct way
of getting at a thing.
“There will bo a water station?” asked
Fred.
“Oh, yea; we must have water. Wc
can get it from the mill pond.”
“By forcing it up the hill ?”
“Yes.”
“That will cost a great deal, won’t
it?”
“The plant will.”
“The plant,” replied Fred, a trifle
puzzled.
“The machinery, my boy. The tanks,
stationary engine, pumps, and so on.”
“There must be a man to run the en¬
gine,” suggested Fred.
“Yes.”
“Suppose there was a big spring on
that hill yonder?” Fred asked, repress¬
ing his excitement. “Suppose the wa¬
ter oould be brought here by pipes, in a
natural flow, and no 'plant’ necessary ?
Would that be worth considering ?”
“Eh!” exclaimed Mr. Lynoh,suddenly
interested, and surprised at the boy’s
brightness. “Is there such a spring ?”
“There is,” deolared Fred. “And the
water can be brought here by its own
gravitation.”
“What you say is indeed worth taking
Into consideration,” Mr. Lynoh said, as
he stared directly in front of him.
“That, and-the less expensive oharaoter
of the route, would more than offset
what the Shenstone people have to
offer.”
“Suppose we subscribe $60,000 here
at Bameston ?” Fred asked, his eyes
sparkling. “That ought to bring us the
road, don’t you think ?”
“It would at least reopen the hear
ing,” admitted Mr. Lynoh.
He laughed softlv over the pronouns
we and ns which Fred had used. It d^s
a declaration of oitizenship, an intima¬
tion that he was bound to be identified
with the progress of the town.
“Can the spring be bought?” the
surveyor asked.
“I am afraid not,” replied Fred. “It
can be leased, however.”
“For 999 years ?”
“Is that the way it’s done ?”
“Yes.”
“Why don’t they make it the even
thousand ?”
“It wouldn't do to seem too grasp¬
ing,” replied Mr. Lynoh, laughing.
“Now, my boy, as you have presented
an idea that looks eminently praotioal, I
do not propose to allow anybody to de¬
prive you of the credit of it. I will be
here one . week from to-day, when you
can report progress.”
The immensity of the undertaking
confused Fred. He hadn’t thought of
carrying the heavy end of it.
“What am I expeoted to do between
now and then ?” he asked
“You are to secure a lease of the
spring and raise the $50,000.”
“All right,” cried Fred. “I’ll do it
I am much obliged to you for giving me
your attention.”
He lifted his bat and started oft
“That’s more tliau an ordinary boy,”
was the surveyor’s mental comment.
“He’s got grit enough to do all that he’s
set out to do.”
Two days later the surveyor examined
the spring and its possibilities. It was
a strong spring, and high enough above
the town to carry the water thither with¬
out any outlay beyond the plaoing of the
pipe 5 :.
“I’ve leased the spring,” Fred said,
as he issued from a clump of bushes.
“It’s down in black and white. Mr.
Benson couldn’t write very well, and so
I drew it up myself. It may be worded
a little strugglingly, but I guess it will
do.”
“Allow me to look at the paper.”
Fred produoed it A smile came to
the surveyor’s Ups as he reed it It was
I dated, signed and witnessed, and read
as follows:
“I hereby agree to lease to Frederick
Sedgwick, or any person or persons, or
corporation, represented by him, thd
«P rijQ g upon my property and the use of
the water thereof, for the term of 939
J ears » for the consideration of $100 a
year. This use is not to be exclusive,
and is not to work injury to me or to
my property, or my own need of the
water.”
“It is an assent,” decided Mr. Lynch.
“Though not in strict form, it can be
made binding. We would be willing to
pay Mr. Benson $200 a year, and so it is
not likely he’ll recede. Did you tell him
your purpose ?”
“No,” replied Fred. “He thought it
a funny proposition to come from me, I
knew, but he saw that I was in earnest.
I guess ho had a notion some one sent
mo. You see, I have no money, nor has
father.”
“The contract isn’t valid,” Mr. Lynch
said.
“Why not?” asked Fred, with a
stare.
“Because you are not of age,” replied
Mr. Lynch, a quizzical look in his
eyes.
Fred gave vent to a prolonged whistle.
“I never thought of that,” he said.
“I don’t believe it crossed Benson’s
mind, either. What’s to be done? You
will have to see him yourself.”
“No,” replied Mr. Lynoh. “You must
do all yourself, for I want the credit to
be entirely yours. Oh, we’ll give
Bameston something to talk about.”
He laughed gleefully, and thrust the
lease into his pocket.
“Master Sedgwick, the lease will do,”
he said. “Mr. Benson will regard it as
a big thing for him.”
“Sir, how fiid you learn my name ?”
Fred asked, looking a little mystified.
“Ah, now that isn’t sharp in you,”
rejoined Mr. Lynch, with a grin. “Isn’t
it in the lease ?”
“So it is,” admitted Fred.
“How about the $50,000?”
“I’ll raise that 1” cried Fred.
He was as good as his word. He did
not expose any of his plans, but was so
sanguine and enthusiastic that he in¬
spired the leading men with the same
spirit.
The directors of the road met a com¬
mittee of the citizens. Mr. Lynch pre¬
sented the case, and Bameston secured
the road, and it was never called a sleepy
old town *fter that.
The citizens were prefuse in their
thanks to Mr. Lynoh,
“I don’t deserve any credit,” he sard.
“Here’s the boy who brought the rail¬
road to Bameston.”
Fred became the hero of the day.
Suddenly everybody seemed to remem¬
ber that he always had been a pushing,
quick-witted fellow.
Mr. Lynoh appreciated him enough to
place him on his corps. Fred rose
rapidly to distinction, and is now not
only the chief engineer of the branch
road to E-, but of the main line and
all its subsidies — Interior.
Speedy Work. —The recent case of
Hanson against Hanson illustrates the
speed and success of the divorce cases
in Nova Scotia. The wife sued for a di¬
vorce, and within three months from the
commencement of the proceedings an
absolute decree was granted. The hus¬
band’s farm was sold for costs, and
bought in for the wife, and the husband
dr.ven from the Province to escape ar¬
rest. The wife is now free and success¬
fully run ning the farm.
It has been computed that before
Prince Henry of Batt^nberg began to #
bask in the sunshine of British royalty
there were only six men iu the world
from whom a husband for Princess Be¬
atrice could have been selected. There
would not be this number of royal la¬
dies for the future King of England to
select a wife from. Not improbably a
consort will be found for him amoDg
the descendants of the Emperor Wil¬
liam.
THE ARMY BEAN.
ti hat AN OLD HIM.DISK. HAS TO SAY
ABOUT IT.
The Direct Cause ef Unhappiness and back
•I Congeniality la Mnldlera’ Families—
Oeaiaii Suaaeaied lor a Monument.
Many of us are the same thick-headed
youDg men who got every camp kettle
iu the regiment filled with rice the first
time we undertook to cook it, and beans
—glorious old beans! Thy memory
haunts me still, like a strain of forgotten
music! Tried and true friend to the
last, cau we ever forget thee! Who can
think of beans and their service to the
cause, and ever grow old ? God bless
the patriots who raised the beans that
insured victory to our arms—and sold
them to the Government at $9 a bushel.
To this day, whenever I unexpectedly
come face to face with a dish of cold
beans, the past rLes before me like a
dream, and I long to be a soldier again,
if only for one meal. Our wives,
mothers, daughters, sisters, oousins
and aunts are mostly good cooks, but
they can’t begin to get up bean soup
like we had it in the army. I believe
I could get along pleasantly with my
wife but for this one sad fact. It may
be that 1 tell her of it too often. At all
events, she don’t seem to relish it as
much as we used to do the soup itself.
It is my belief that most of the unhappi¬
ness and lack of congeniality in soldiers’
families might undoubtedly be traced
to this very same cause. It is rather a
taking poetic fancy that there is music
in a smile, but you and I and all of us
know to a dead certainty that there is
nourishment in a bean. It gets away
with the goober pea every time. Bean
soup did more to put down the rebellion
than some of our generals, and yet it is a
scandalous fact that its great service to
the cause has never been officially 4 rec¬
ognized, and no sweet jingling poetry
has been written in its honor. It ought
to have a monument that would stand
right smart of rough weather, and
whoop its glorious memory down to
posterity. It might be in the shape of
a colossal camp-kettle, with vines clam¬
bering about it, and the bas-relief of a
sick man drawing rations on the stirring
stick. The soldier’s illness could be
easily indicated in the old way—by giv¬
ing him double rations.
A Gift of True Love.
The Milwaukee Sentinel says: Ella
Wheeler-Wilcox has a bracelet which
her friends describe as “a poem written
In gems.” It is a gift from her hus¬
band. A golden horseshoe, studded
with turquoises, bears the date of their
first romantic meeting; a small gold
plaque, set with superb rubies, the date
of the first ’ letter written by Mr.
ever
Wilcox to Miss Wheeler ; & Roman gold
star set with sapphires represents the
engagement week. Several other days
and events are symbolized in beautiful
designs, the whole completed by the
“wedding bangle,” an exquisite anchor
and crown set with six rabies and sir
diamonds. The bracelet was designed
by Mr. Wilcox and presented as a sur¬
prise to his wife.
The Stomach. — The Hon. Carl
Schurz, in a lecture, advocated good
housekeeping, and said soda biscuit and
bad pie would ruin any man’s stomach,
and when the stomach is rained the
man is done Vor. He related interesting
stories illustrating the high esteem in
which a good housewife is held. One
was Bismarck’s wife, who “carried the
keys” dangling by her side, and said
that to a mau of sense there is an attrac¬
tion about a bunch of keys which a.
bunch of diamonds never possessed.
The Toboggan. —“How did you like
it?” asked a Canadian girl of an Amer¬
ican visitor, whom she had steered down
the steepest slide on a toboggan. “Oh 1:
I wouldn’t have missed it for a hundred
dollars!” “You’ll try it again, won’t,
vouf” “Not for a thousand dollars ! '