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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 ! '