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She Jdontgomeffi JUonitof. D. C SUTTON, Editor and Prop’r. To-Morrow. Ye Bin? of today with its pleasures and pain, Ye Binv of today with its sorrow, But often “today” is a sad-written page. And to I will sing of to-morrow. To-day when tho skies are rainy and dark. Faith and connive we often would borrow, And bo we looked forward with hope and with cheer. And say, “twill te pleasant tomorrow.” Oh, dreary and sad tin* present would be I' the future no bright dreams did offer; If no golden gleams of beauteous dreams .Shone brilliant from ’morrow’s lair coffer. You tell me to-morrow never will eoine With its fulness of joy or of sorrow : I trust in a world far fairer than this J may lltidmy lonx-dreamed-of-tomorrow. I think though its title be changed to to-day. Even the n by its absence of sorrow 1 shall know in that mystical land lar away My beautiful vanished to-morrow. A PIOUS FllAUI). Twenty years ago there lived a wid ow lady in the South of France, in a senside village called Compiogne, near Marseilles, who had occupied the same house for half a century, aud was es teemed as a kind friend to the poor. For a French lady, she was, conspi cuously wealthy, having an income of about eighty thousand francs a year; and this income she . had enjoyed for fifty years, to the constant benefit of the neighborhood in which she lived, lint the evil day came at last, and this, too, in her old age, when she lost al most the whole of her largo property: some said through the pertidy of her broker; some, through rash ventures or speculations; and some, through her honorable desire t» pay the gambling debts of a brother who had lost his hon or as he had lost every in iug else. Bo the secret what it might —and u was never cleared up —she was so reduced as to be practically penniless, haviug sold even her jewels- {tnd her library, and keeping nothing but her household furniture aud effects. The house that she lived in was not her own. She rented it from a not too amiable landlord. This landlord was as much disliked iu the ueighborhood as the lady was affectionately esteemed; and when the time came that the lady was so impoverished as to he unable even to pay six months’ rent, the land lord was perhaps the only man in the whole neighborhood whoso pity was shadowed by self-interest. He did not so much as express sympathy with hi', old tenant. Though she had paid him a handsome rental for so long a time —the villagers said for forty-eight years—the landlord was a man who had but one idea of humanity, and that was to get ,‘iis own ai quarteriJny. \\ o must not presume to pass censure on the landlord. These are men, excel lent men, whose one weakness for money is such an absorbent of all the force of their character that they have no capacity left for appreciating any thing else, and must be regarded as ir responsible idiots. Now it so happened that, about a mile from the lady’s house, there lived a gentleman who had grown rich by picture-fancying. The name of this gentleman was Mousieur Oration. He was considered to be one of the heal judges of pictures, not only in the neighborhood, but in all France. Hi, word fixed the value of any painting. And so wondrous was his gift of dis crimination that ho had been sent lor to I‘aris by the Government of his day to settle rare disputes on art subjects. It was said of him that he could tell a Vernet from a Gaspar Poussin by ouo glance of his type-discerning eye; that, on one occasion, when, at lirst sight of a fine picture, he was asked, “Can this be French or Italian?” he replied in stantly, “Neither, sir; it is a George Morland;” and that he had even turned the jest on some art critics in /ienna, who had labelled a picture wrongly to deceive him. Now this gentleman, who had amassed a large fortune —some said five millions of franc* -by his happy knack of “picking up unsuspected •jems," was well known to the hard landlord, and still belter known to the lady whom 111-fortune had now placed in the landlord’s power. He had been deeply grieved to hear of the lady’s re cent troubles. And he became savage —downright spiteful —when the news reached his ears that his lady-friend was about to be “sold up.” Without loss of a moment he called to see the lady. He begged her, most respectfully, yet most earnestly, to per mit him to defray the trifling debt. She could repay him, he suggested, in a few months or years, if she preferred a loan, and would decline to accept a gift; but meanwhile he implored her not to let so small a sum —not to let so small a service on his part —stand in the way of her saving her "household gods ” The lady was grateful, but ob durate. If the landlord, she said most injure anyone, it had best be that per son who was iiis debtor; and, for her part, she was not unhappy in the con templation of at least honorably dis charging a just debt. So the worst came to the worst at the appointed time. All the villagers were full of sorrow for the kind lady. Many of them clubbed together, and tried to raise the full amount, which was no more than two thousand live hundred francs; but the lady, when she heard of it, instantly stopped the subscription, aDd assured the good vil lagers that “it was of no importance.” Indeed, she bore up so serenely under her sudden change of fortune that she might be said to be as admirable in ad versity as she has been in her uses of o-reat wealth. The date of the public sale was duly advertised in the newspapers; and the huge placards which were posted all about the village were read with tear ful eyes by many villagers: ••To be sgld. J>y auction. 09. the morning es Tuesday, bepiemner ism, .u cicvcir to twelve o’clock, the household furniture and contents of the Villa Antoinette,” etc., was the announcement which occasioned grief to a hundred friends, and which aroused no little resentment against the landlord. Accordingly, on a hue morning iu September, just twenty years ago—iu 1865 —a little crowd was gathered early, round the Villa Antoinette, and not a few persons passed within the villa. Everyone of note, or rather everyone who had money, was anxious to secure some souvenir trom the sale. Indeed, many persons were present, not to buy anything for themselves, but to “buy in” what could be bought for the kind lady. And here it must be meulioued that the law of France, iu regard to sales, is more considerate and more just than in the English law; for it is not permitted, iu a French sale by auc tion, to sell one stick more than is re quired to pay the debt; so that the mo ment the exact amount is reached, the auctioneer is obliged to lay down his hammer. In this particular case, the exact amouut to be covered was two thousand seven hundred and titty francs —the amouut of the debt witu the expenses —so that it was hoped that the really valuable furniture, including not a few raro antiques, aught not, all of it, be scattered to the winds. The auctioneer commenced business at twelve o’clock. By this time most of the rooms were quite full. There were present —strange effrontery!—the landlord of the villa, who smiled his welcome to inauy a visitor wiio did uot love him; aud also the distinguished picture-fancier, Monsieur Gruttou, of whom mention has been made just above. The landlord aud picture-tan cier shook hands. Why not? Hands meet in this world when hearts are far apart, just as heads are ofteu uncover ed by reluctant hands. “Language was given lo conceal our thoughts,” and politeness was given us well, to conceal the degree of disrespect which we may interiorly entertain for those we greet. The landlord aud the picture-fancier lived in the same ueigh borhood. It was less trouble to he civil than to be candid. Yet some versons smiled when they saw the amiable picturo-faucier ex changing normal, polite greetings w.Mi the landlord, it had been whispered about that “Mousieur Gratton, the great picture-fancier, had tried to settle tbis affair out of court,” and had made overtures to the landlord —which had net been accepted—for the pacific set tlement of the debt without a sale. Bo this as u might, tneiC w 'a» no sign oi pacification in the fact that the auc tioneer had arrived; nor in the handing •bout of printed catalogues of the sale; nor in the marked “Lots” which stared everybody in the face. Still, Monsieur Gratton looked blandly on the landlord. And there was, perhaps, more than a touch of irony in the voice of Monsieur Gratton—who was a cult ured gentleman as well as a judgo of pictures—when, saluting the hard land lord, he said, in his suavest tones, “Monsieur, jo vous souhaite lo bon jour.” And now the picture-fancier moved about the room—the room in which the sale was to take place. Naturally, being a picture-fancier, he would look at the pictures; and he did look at them, with a lazy indifference. From one picture to another picture lie parsed somewhat quickly, with that tort of unattractedness which, if ex pressed in honest language, might be .ummed up in the comment, “What tubbish!” He had moved nearly round the room, with an air of calm con .empt, casting a glance on this water tolor, on that oil-painting, when sud denly bis eye became arrested by some object which seemed to claim just his momentary attention; and, standing opposite a small picture, he felt for his eye-glass, and then put it ostentatious ly into his eye. In another minute he had taken the picture off its stand; ho bad seated himself leisurely in an arm c’ air; he was caressing the picture with an obvious artistic interest; and the whole room —all who were present —were observing him. The auctioneer commenced business as follows: “Gentlemen, in the order of the catalogue, the pictures stand first for your competition. These pic tures are not, perhaps, by great artists —that is, not by "artists with great names —but you will see that they are, all of them, good pictures. Now, here we have Lot One. (Monsieur Achilie, please turn that picture to the light, and just draw the curtains back from the windows; I thank you.) Here we have Lot One, a really capital water color by that rising young artist, Henri Durart. What shall we say, gentle men, for this very pretty picture?” Aud the picture was knocked down for twenty francs. “Lot Two,” proceeded the auction - eer, swiftly, “is really a fine oil-paint ing, by Lecroix—a grand picture! fcthall we say two hundred francs, to begin with?’’ But sixty francs was all that “the grand picture” could be flattered iuto bringing into the treasury. "Lot Three,” now said the auction eer, after a short pause, and apparent ly looking about the room to discover it. "Ah! I see that Monsieur Gratton it admiring it! Monsieur Grattou,” said the now pleased auctioneer, “you have Lot Three in your lap, and are caressing it! You will tell us, sir, what you think of this picture?” And Monsieur Gratton woke up, as from a reverie. He seemed to have been unconscious of the auctioneer. He immediately banded “Lot Three, to one of the assistants, and then relapsed into a calm state of indifference, as though he had forgotten what had in terested him. “Tbis is a small picture by—Ah! the MT. VERNON, MONTGOMERY CO., GA„ TH URSDA Y, SEPTEMBER 23,188 G. name is not given,” continfled the auc tioneer, as though inquiringly. “l’er i.aps Mousieur Gratton can oblige us by telling us who was the painter of this picture?” But Mousieur Grattou simply shook his head, negatively, signifying that ho neither knew nor cared. The auc tioneer therefore proceeded with the sale. “The title of this picture is ‘The First Streak of Dawn.’ What shall we say for this clever picture?” And iio one making a bid, Monsieur Grattou, the picture-taucier, iu lazy tones, "Fifty francs.” "Fifty francs!” echoed the busy auc tioneer. “Any advance, geutlomeu.ou t'.io small sum of fifty francs?” “And the landlord of the villa, who had been watching Monsieur Gratton, and had seen that he had been groatly struck with this little picture, stepped forward and examined it with care. Whether tired by admiration, or by emulation,' or by greed, ho decided that he would himself make a bid. So, as no one else spoke, he looked at the auctioneer, aud said, somewhat hush fully, “Sixty francs.” Monsieur Gratton looked nt him quite surprised. What ou earth could he know about a picture? After a very brief pause, and after one look at tho landlord, he said, with calm confidence, “Ouo hundred francs.” A smile then lit the countenances of many present. And the smile became broadened iuto a kind of chuckle when the landlord, as though inspired with a fine envy, boldly broko out into, “Two hundred francs.” Monsieur Gratton looked annoyed, and uot good-tempered, but very quick ly responded with, “Three hundred." “Four," said tho landlord, almost Immediately. At this point Monsieur Gratton, who had not left his arm-chair, rose and walked quietly to tho auctioneer, utter ing, however, the two words, “Fivo hundred,”»as though he inteudod that bid to be the final one. "Six hundred,” said tho landlord. “A thousand francs,” said Monsieur Gratton, rather peevishly, obviously bored with the landlord’s interfer ence. "Twelve hundred," said the land lord. “Fifteen,” said Monsieur Gratton. “Two thousand francs," cried tho landlord, while tho people in tho room began to look at oue another, and to wonder what this rivalry could por tend. “Two thousand live hundred,” said GrsiiOk, at the same time taking the notes out of his pocket-book, and proceeding to count them for a settlement. The landlord, feeling his dignity to bo at stake—at least, that was the ex terior improssion—with but little hesi tation, capped this last generous bid with the still more generous offer of “Three thousand." “Ah. well!” said Monsieur Gratton, shrugging his shoulders, and putting his pocket-book hack into his pocket. “I really cannot bid any more.” And he smilingly wont back to his arm chair. “That stops tho sale,” said the auc tioueer, sha r ply. And a great hubbuL of talk filled tiie room. Nor had the salo lasted more than twenty minutes. The landlord, by his one bid for the picture, had fully cov ered his tenant’s debt and the expenses, so that all that had been sold of tho good lady’s property were three pic tures, and not a stick of the furniture. Nothing could havo been more satis factory. So the crowd now dispersed, each one to his own home; and many a surprise was expressed, and many * criticism was hazarded,as to the why of this spasmodic rivalry for the picture. “Take my word for it,” said one good villager to another, as they weudo' their way home through the village lanes, “Monsieur Gratton, the picture fancier, knew what he was about when he offered a good price for that picture. He never buys a bad picture. If be offered two thousand five hundrer francs, that picture is worth at least six thousand. The landlord has got hold of a masterpiece, and he knew that when Monsieur Gratton bid tegh.” “D!d you notice,” answered the oth or, “tiow Monsieur Gratton looked at the picture? Why, he took the picture iu his lap, and then he looked at the back of it, and then he looked into th» corners, and then he turned the picture upside down, and then lie took a mag nilier and seemed to look under the frame, as though ho would discover some old writing. Depend upon it, that picture is a gem. Mon LHeul what it is to know a thing! Now you or 1 might have passed over that picture and never thought it worth more that the rest of them. These savants, as they call them, are wonderful men.” And precisely the same range of ideas was passing through the mind of the landlord as he carefully wrapped tho picture in a piece of silk, and then wrapped it in another soft folding. To have ontwitted a supreme judge of pic tures, and to have more than covered the full amount which was due to him (for he intended to sell that picture for its full value), were two satisfactions which seemed to him to compensate foe the unpleasantness of “selling up a widow.” The following morning the landlord started early, to make a call upon Mon sieur Gratton, the picture-fancier. It was barely ten o’clock when tho land lord arrived, and he was at once shown into the presence he desired. Monsieur Gratton received him very graciously. Monsieur Gratton talked briskly, and was unusually voluble—ou every subject save that of yesterday’s sale. The more tho landlord tried to ‘.’lead up" to that subject, the more "SUB DEO FACIO FORTITER.’ did Monsieur Gratton lead away from it, till at last, utterly daunted in every effort to “drag it in,” the landlord took his hat and was departing. But na ture was too strong to be vanquished. The landlord had called with ouo par ticular object, and be could not go away without succeeding. So, sum moning all hiscourage.as ho was back ing out of the room, and as Monsieur Gratton was suavely bowing his adiuux, lie said, abruptly— "Oh! Monsieur Grattou, pray pardon me for asking you—l know 1 have no business to do so—but why did you take a fancy to that little picture?” “Whv did ltake a faucyto that little picture?* echoed Mousieur Gratton, as though surprised; “that little picture! What little picture? Ah! you mean the little picture I wanted to buy, but which you so unkindly took from me. Yes, 1 must say I thought it shabby o. you to supplant me," said Monsieur Gratton, laughing gaily and good-hu moredly. "Now, might 1 ask you," continued the landlord, quite diffidently, “sine . of course, you know these matters hot ter than I do: what might ho the value, the pecuniary value, of that really ver; charming little picture?" “Pecuniary value—that little picture —pecuniary value!” re-echoed Mon sieur Gratton,looking surprised; “upon my word, I have not lliu smallest idea. 1 am sure i never gave tho subject a thought. Pecuniary value! Oh! 1 dare say twenty francs,or twenty-live francs. But really, I havo not considered the point judicially.” “Twenty francs, or twenty-live francs!” exclaimed the landlord, utter ly unable to hide his disgust; “twenty francs, or twenty-five francs, it's full value! You are jesting, Mosieur Grat ton, you are jesting!” “Jesting!” responded the picture fancier, quite gravely; “why should i jest upon such a subject? You ask me a very simple question, and I give you a very truthful answer.” "'Then why, sir—l say, why sir,” asked the landlord, with suppressed passion, “did you bid two thousand live hundred francs for that picture?" "Really, Monsieur le l’loprietalre," replied Monsieur Gratton, with a grav ity ami an iuuocenco that were quit.) crushing, “you astonish mo by so curious a question. If a man takes a fancy to a picture, or if lie wishes t possess it as a souvenir of a kind laity for whom he lias tho very highest es teem, may he not bid what lie likes to.' it? At least you, sir, wore evidently of that o|»- -in. wit ani> Hinvtme. “I say, Bobby,” whispered Feather ly, was your sister pleased to learn that 1 had called upon her?” Prof. J. L. Sullivan is more popular iu Boston than the Puritan—and ho is onlv a whaling craft at tiiat Philadel fih.*■ Press, A poet sings: “1 see tho flush upon thy cheek.” If this is the case, that poi>\ would do well to lay down his ha: d unless he can boat it.— l'rxk. ■Yes, indeed she was,” replied Bob by “When mother told her that Mr. Fo ilicrly had called while she was out she said, “Thank Heaven!”— New York bU.I. Neither bustles nor corsets are worn in Japan, and when a .Japanese maid en sits down iu a skating rink she go s her money’s worth every time.— JJv rtinyton Free Press. Explained.—Auger (a young author) “There seems to be a conspiracy against mo among the publishers.” Gimlet—“ How so?” Auger—“ They havo all of them declined the same thing.” — Puck. The brewer who maketh good beer in the day and pultelh a good head on it is bettor than he who drinkoth tho beer at night and waketh up in tho morning with a good head on himself. Stockton Maverick. There are thirteen widows living on one street about 300 yards long in Arncricus, Ga. Tho city authorities propose to put up at each end of the street a sign: “Dangerous passing.” Somerville Journal. Nautical husband (jokingly)—"O, I’m the mainstay of the family.” Wife —“Yes, and tho jibboom, and the — and tho ” Small boy (from exper ience) “And the spanker, too, mamma.” — Troy Press. Frank J. Black, the genial aud bril liant young journalist who writes about medieval theology and other lit tle things, made us a very pleasant call last evening. We were not in at the time — Punxsulawney Tribune. The Rev. Phillips Brooks recently spoke tor half an hour at the rate of 213 words per minute, which proves conclusively that there is nothing a woman can do which a man cannot do just as well or better.— Lowell Citizen. Ella Wheeler sings “body and heart seemed shaken, thrilled, aud startled by that greeting.” An enthusiastic admirer thinks that some big listed fellow must have slapped Ella on tho back and asked her how the weather suited her.— New York Journal. “I am just as much opposed to tip pling as anybody," said Eenderson; ••hut, nevertheless, liquor rightly used is a blessing to humanity. When I was ill last winter, I actually believed it saved my life.” Fogg—“Very like ly; but how does that prove that liquor is a blessiug to humanity V'—Boston Transcript. A well-educated young lady in Rich mond wants a position as teacher in Danville. She has passed the giggling age, but is not too old to be a very agreeable companion, arid the editor of this paper can heartily recommend b»rr to any family desiring an intelli gent teacher and companion.— Van- A morning papor has this truly sen sational heading to on® of its columns: ••>idward Graui shoots a woman with w.-ioin he was madly in love thro Pines." Nothing is more common tViu a man’s being in love three times, br.t it is not usually with the same wo nikin. San Franciscan. Yhcro is a growiug fear among tho MttlitWCOUU ladies of Su Louis society that Maxwell may prove to boa gen tltnir.n, a scholar, anil an innocent man after all. If such proves to be the case they should prosecute him for ob taining adoration under false preten ses. — Leavenworth (Kas.) limes. Miss Clara Louise Kellogg has boon out West singing to enthusiastic au diences of cowboys and miners. In re luting her experience at Butte City, Miss Kellogg says: “Ouo lady came 2UO miles to hear me, uud said she was well paid for tho trip.” Any one who would travel so far to hoar Clara Louiso would have to he well paid,— The Humbler. i “lu tho first place, brethren,” said a 1 camp-mooting orator last night, “wo must bo careful of what wo say, ami in tho second place”—there was some noiso ih the eougrogution caused by people coming in and the speaker paused—“in tho socoml place,” re peated tho speaker, aud again ho paused, and a small boy arose and cried out: “The Alloghenys are in the second place; Cincinnati got licked.” —Pittsburg Chronicle- Telegraph. Lata inventions—A thunder-rod for pooplo who are liable to bo “thunder struck” on receiving unexpected intel ligence; a grindstone for pooplo who are in tho habit of “grinding their teeth” when tlioy are iu auger; a do vico for grubbing people who are “rooted to tho spot;" a patent air ship for restoring people to their homos who are "carried away with emotion," “transported with delight,” etc.; a steam-roller for people “potri j tied with astonishment."— Poston Cour \ ier. An English visitor at one of tho smaller spas in Germany was com plaining the other day to a garcon at his hotel that the water lie took really seemed uot to havo the slightest effect, so far as ho was concerned. “But j you soe, monsieur," replied tho waiter, j who, it should be said, was under no tice to quit his place, “It is necessary to he patient. Now, I well remember a lady at this hotel last season who took the waters, and sho did not die until sho had boon hero close upon six mouths.”- London Figaro. “How’s yer hoy gottiu’ erlong, Jas per?” asked a nogro, meeting an ac qiiuintunco. “Ken talk right smart, now, kain’t ho?” “Talk right smart? W’y, you oughter hoali dut chile open his niouf. Talk? W’y, 1 tell yer wul he ken do. Hu can ' talk through one of deso lioali tellyfones." “Go way, now.” “Ob, it’s or fuck." “Yerdoan tell mo so!" “Cose 1 does.” “Tulk through a tollyfouo, eh?” “Jos liko 1 tells yer. Es dal hoy doan grow up to lie a lawyer I’ll jos’ ax somebody to tell me der reason; (hit’s what I’ll do.” —Arkansaw Traveler. Johannes Schonor, a zealous as trologer of tho sixteenth century, once when on a journey put up at a friend’s house, where he saw the youngest child of the latter, ict. 2, lying in the cradle. Ho immediately sat down at his friend's writing-desk and drew up the baby’s horoscope, in which lie fore told that it would grow up to be a gal lant warrior, and, like bis father, would attain to high rank anil digni ties. After glancing at tho papor the father exclaimed, laughing: “Why, Johannes, it is a girl!”— Ucr Schaik. A religiously inclined correspondent at the seashore writes that Gol. Robert lngersoll’s wall-eyed atheistic pup was chewed lip and hud four handfuls es fur bitten out of his hack the other day by an Established Church of En gland terrier at Long Beach. Tho lu gersoll dog harked too violently at tho sun, implying that it was only the re flection oi nothingness, tho Establish ed Church dog protested, the contro versy foliowoif, and the atheistic dog came out of it practically worthless, even for use as a door-mat. The rivalry between Houston and Galveston continues unabated. No mat ter what the residents of oue city claim, the residents of the rival commercial center dispute the claim. A Houston man was in Galveston not long since, tne guest of a resident of the latter city. The Galveston tnau frequently gave his Houston friend a cigar to smoke, at the same time deprecating the inferiority of tho weed. “Now,” replied the Houston man, “you have been telling uie all along how had your cigars are. I want you to stop j with me a day or so when you come to j Houston, and 1 will convince you that ! J can treat my guests to worse cigars than you ever smoked iu your life, i’ll give you cigars that will break you of the habit of smoking altogether. ' The woman Astie de Valsayre, who came into notoriety by fighting a duel on the field of Waterloo with another woman who had very properly called j her a fool, first wanted i'astcur to ex periment on her instead of rabbits with j his anti-hydrophobia inoculation; but j lie refused. Then she wanted Dr. Grusdlbach to try on her his plan of I freezing a person solid and thawing tho j subject out again after a year or two in as good vital condition as ever, but ho also declined. Now she wants to go to I the Congo country to' help Do Brazza civilize the blacks. i; -n and eighteen inches i, c ,|, ,• ii • tic common products jf .>,ll " I !• 1 I VOL. I. NO. 29. MISSING LINKS. Artificial human ears are made of celluloid, a recent invention. Scientific inquiry is being made into the medical virtues of dogs’ tongues. Amethysts ami pink cameos are the fashionable line stones of the season. China has 3,600 miles of telegraph hue, and only seven milos of railroad. Salida, Col., is said to have sixteen saloons and "not one church spire in Sight" Wild woodcock have been seen late ly in the parks in the very heart of London. Elizabeth Hickman, of Xenia, 111., has a son seventy-four years old, who is a great-grandfather. Edward Evorntt llale says three hours of daily brain-work will get out all of the best there is in a man. Ewing Watterson, Col. Henry Wat terson's eldest sou, works on his fath er’s pupei and exhibits special aptitude for the business. Is it true that, when washing their faces, men alwuys rub up and down and snort, while women apply the wutor and then stroke gently down ward? Out of 60,000 prosecutions by the English society for the prevention of cruelty to auimals during the last twenty-live years 66,000 have been successful. Since Alma-Tadema’s engagement to design a sot of furniture for a New York banker another metropolitan millionaire has oiuployed Sir Frederick Leighton to paint three ceiling panels for him. Said l’asha, the Grand Vizier of Turkey, is a man of exalted private character. Hu was a devoted husband, was prostrated with grief at the death of his wife, and is now giving the best of his life to his young children. Edwin Booth and his daughter have just placed in the Episcopal church at Middletown, It. 1., a window in mem ory of the actor's doceasod wife. It Is 13x9 feel and is pronounced admirable both in design and color. l>r. Wadsworth, tho new Bishop of Salisbury, England, once had a piece bitten from the calf of his leg by a sav age dog, and would have bled to death bad not the lady with whom he was walking improvised a torniquet from a couple of handkerchiefs. A Frenchman has constructed a six cliauibored revolver an inch and a half long, the smallest fire-arm In lae world. It is complete in all respects, fires cartridges with fulminate, and has poufur enough to send one of them through an ordinary pane of glass at four paces. A young gentleman of 8 ysars, on the Hack Hay, who bad already five brothers, was told one day last week that he hail a sister. As the news seemed to all'oct him rather badly be tyus finally prevailed upon to tell what the trouble was. .Sobbing he told his mother that ho wanted all brothers, as he was in hopes of having a base-ball nine. The phrase “a wheel within awheel" undoubtedly had its origin in the Bi ble. J» Ezek., i., 10 we find the ex pression, "a wheel in the middle of a wheel.” The revisers of the Bible have adopted the popular phrase “a wheel within a wheel," whether as a more correct transcript of the original or In deference to the common phrase is known only to themselves. A man in a lonely part of lowa had brain fever in consequence of the death of his wife, and on recovering could not remember where he had buried her. During the interval the three persons who had assisted in the inter ment became scattered. Very desir ous of locating the grave, the widower dug over most of a ten-acre field be fore findiug the remains. A Michigan girl outdid her compan ions in a craze for autographic albums by haring about a hundred letters from the same number of men bound in a volume for hor parlor table. As the missives represented her extensive and usually sentimental correspondence since she hail arrived at the age of chirography the collection proved very interesting to callers. Hutton Jour nal. The death occurred lately at Oxford Neck, Jlel.,of Nathan Mills, colored, at tho age of 107. He always wore his shirt-bosom open in winter snd sum mer for fear of taking cold if he fasten ed it lie was much respected by the white people of Oxford Neck. Os all his children only two survive him— Levin and Nero—both of whom are great-grandfathers. Nathan lived to see live generations of his children and grandchildren. The neighborhood of Oxford Neck is peopled with his de scendants. A correspondent of a Boston news paper says that Mr. Nast's wife is the original of Columbia, the tall, beauti ful woman with the classic face who has been so prominent in the allegor ical pictures during and since the war. These pictures tirst gave Nast his na tional fame. In beauty of conception and execution they have never been excelled, and are chapters of the histo* ry of the nation’s mind—photographed moods, as it were. Columbia, let it bo noticed, is altogether a different figure from the Goddess of Liberty. She it Nnet’s special creation in the world of aru Tho sea-shell business of California is little known to the public. The pro duct consists of mother-of-pearl, pear oyster, brilliant or curious sheila from Japan, China and the South Seas, and the several varieties of abalone.