Newspaper Page Text
The Montgomery Monitor.
D C. SU L'TOX, Editor and Pr >p’r.
Some Day You’ll Think of Me.
Some dav, mv darling-, when the rose has
died,
That on your pathway throws its petals
sweet.
When the sharp thorn is springing near your
side
And nettles pierce the mold beneath your
feet,
You’ll wish for me.
Seine das', my darling, when the crystal cup
Os Beauty shattered lies, and spilled its
wine;
When Pleasure’s urn denies your lips one
sup.
And you drink deep of Disappointment’s
Urine,
You’ll wish for me.
Borne dav the wreath will wilt upon tby head.
You’ll smell the hud and find a worm with
in.
Some day, my darling, when your friends
have lied.
And strangers mock your frequent tears,
ah!then
You’ll wish for me.
! iome day, my darling, when Death’s dews
fall cold
Upon your brow, you’ll gladly let me
come—
When dreams present the shroud that must
'f enfold
Your limbs, and your sweet lips grow chill
’ and dumb,
You’ll wish for me.
You'll long for him whoso hands were oft
\ denied
/ To pluck a rose lest they tbo bush pollute—
Yet he would come and stand a slave aside.
To grasp the bramble and the thorn up
, root,
i If you but wished for him.
iHe’d kiss your feet the hidden briar had
torn.
And bathe the wounds with Pity’s saddest
tear,
Ale’d close your eyes that ne'er till death had
worn
k pur him one look of love, and at your bier
Ua’d kneel aud pray
Yor strength to watch you taiddon from his
I eight.
For strength to turn aside and leave you
there
Clasped in the arms of everlasting night;
Aud yet, ray darling, not as great despair
He’d feel than now.
I v A GROANING GHOST.
' Some five-and-thirty years ago, when
1 was a young man, my father’s busi
ness experienced a sudden and severe
check. We were many in family, and
■the expenses of education were heavy.
Jt was necessary to retrench. My
father’s place of business lay in the
[heart of the city. We had to keep
horses, if only to take myself and my
father to and from the city. The most
important articles in our scheme of re
trenchment were our horses and car
riages. For all these reasons we re
ceived to move eastward to within easy
Eeach of our place of business. My
irother and myself were commissioned
find a suitable house.
| After a long search we selected a
Biouse that stood at the corner of a quiet,
gober-looking, very old-fashioned square,
feeing the corner house it was larger
(than the other houses, and appeared
[just suited to the wants of our family,
f The next day I was lunching at my
(usual chop-house along with two or
{three acquaintances,
f “Still house-hunting, Denion?” said
rne of these.
‘.‘No, thank heaven,” I said. “We’ve
igot a house at last. In square.”
i “ —■ — square,” echoed he, thought
jfully. “Why square is the .
[Which number have you got?”
1 “No. 45,” I said. He threw his head
back and burst into a tit of laughter.
The other men lauged, too. I looked
from one to another for explanation.
“When you’ve done,” said I with
dignity.
i “Why, don’t you know,” said, my
friend, recovering his gravity, “No. 45
[ square is haunted?" I saw the
.other men looking at me, so I put on a
bold front.
[ “As if every one didn’t know that,”
said I composedly. He was somewhat
taken aback, but returned to the charge.
“Well, you’ll have plenty of com
pany there,” he said. “We shall have
you appearing in the city with a fine
head of snow-white hair, acquired in a
single night Poor old boy!”
I “Don't you be afraid,” 1 retorted.
“There are enough of us to frighten any
ghost. We shall crowd him out”
“I bet you a new hat you don’t stop
there a week,” said he.
“Done with you,” said I promptly.
“As often as you like. Any one else
want to bet?”
No one volunteered and the subject
dropped. But I was extremely uncom
fortable. In the course of the after
noon I took my brother aside and told
him.
“Phew!” said he. “That explains
the low rent. But it’s rather serious.
The governor can’t stand anything of
the sort. You know how nervous he is.”
“Yes, I know,” I said. “And it
strikes me that the best thing we can
do is to move into the house ourselves,
so we can tell him the story is a myth
if any one lets it out to him. Just you
and I.”
“Right,” said he. “We have taken
the house and we can’t afford to lose
the money. Besides, it’s such a capital
place.”
The whole family were to move in
about three weeks' time. We had no
difficulty in finding a pretext for pre
ceding them, and it was arranged that
some of the bedroom furniture should
be immediately sent in to our new
domicile. We were going to sell most
of our furniture in our West End house,
and the new furniture could be bought
immediately, and placed in No. 45. So
at about 10 o'clock one evening, after
a substantial dinner in town, we let
ourselves into our new abode by means
of the key, and took possession. A
bright fire, lit by our landlaudy, was
blazing in the kitchen. We had a
plentiful supply of whisky «*id tobacco,
and we macfe ourselves comfortable with
our slippers and lounging coats, and
prepared for a night of it.
••Uncommonly comfortable.” said my
brother, approvingly. “Gad, the old
lady knows how to make a lire!”
• T And what a grate! And a chimney
as big as a blast-furnace. There is
nothing like one of those old-fashioned
kitchens for comfort.” Ensconced in
our chimney corners we passed the
time luxuriously enough. We had
made up our minds to sit up all night
and show the ghost what manner of
men he had to dual with.
“We’ll take the ghost by the horns,”
said my brother. “I only hope we
shan’t have to take the devil by his.”
1 was not quite so complacent, for 1 in
herited something of my father’s nerv
ous temperament. However, 1 had
company, and there was Dutch courage
in the whisky bottle, so 1 kept up a
stout heart. We were very cheerful
and light-hearted at first. We talked
over various boyish escapades; we
criticised the characters of our friends
and relations; we got the lidgets; we
found we could not smoke forever with
out burning our mouths. Finally the
fumes of whisky and the heat of the
fire had their inevitable effect and we
began to doze.
I do not know bow long I had been
asleep, but I suddenly awoke with a
violent start. A cold shudder ran
through me from head to foot I had
an indefinable sensation of something
strange and terrible. 1 rose and
stretched myself and tried to feel at my
easy. But I could not 1 touched my
brother and he awoke.
“Hello!” he said. “What’s the mat
ter? Why, I’ve been asleep! What’s
the time?”
“Two o’clock,” said I.
“Just the time for a ghost,” said he
with unseemly levity. “Do you know.
Will, I don’t think he’ll come here.
Ghosts are uncomfortable things and
don’t like good tires- Get too much of
them where they are, 1 suppose. Let’s
go and look for him.”
“Anything for a change,” said I, al
though the thought of perambulating
that great lonesome mansion in the
dead of night was anything but agree
able. “I am wide awake.”
“So am I,” said he, and taking up
the brass candlestick he went towards
the door. I followed him—close. We
passed along the passage, our stealthy
footfalls making a faint sound on the
uncarpeted floor. We heard aud saw
nothing. We ascended the stairs:
Every individual stair creaked horribly,
bul that was all. No ghost.
My brother suddenly opened the door
of a bedroom on the first floor. Instaut
-7 a gust of air blew the candle out.
And as we stood there in the cold wo
distinctly heard —a groan. It was no
lancy. It was a long-drawn, wailing
moan of 1 nc’xpressfbßs horror and pa
thos. It died away in a despairing ca
dences. It seemed like the sorrowful la
ment of a soul in torment. As we stood
there grasping each other’s hands, with
our hearts throbbing in great pulsa
tions, it came again. O, the horror of
it! It seemed to be in the room and
close to us. The cold was deathly, the
silence broken only by that weird and
awful moan. Once more it rose and
fell —and somehow or other the next
moment we found ourselves in the
kitchen, with shaking limbs and ashen
faces, relighting our extinguished can
dles. Then wc looked at each other.
“That was no fancy, Will,” said my
brothel’.
“Fancy —no,” I replied, my teeth
chattering in my head. “What are you
going to do?”
For my brother had relit the caudle
and was moving away.
“I’m going to have another look,” he
said.
. "But, perhaps,” I suggested, “the —
the ghost extinguishes the light.”
‘TU give him another chance,”
said my brother, coolly. “Come along,
you chattering idiot.” I was too shat
tered to resent this unflattering de
scription, and with a quaking heart I
followed his foolhardy footsteps. This
t!me ho opened the door more cautious
ly, and we entered with every nerve
strung to its utmost tension. Holding
the candle on high, we looked aroumE
Pure vacuity. And the sound came not
again.
“Foor old chap,” said my brother.
“He can’t stand the light. Shall 1 blow
it out again?”
“If you do ,” said I. “But, jok
ing apart, who is going to sleep in this
100 m? I’m not, for one. And this
would naturally be the governor’s
room.”
My brother was struck.
“You’re right," he said; “we must
get to the bottom of this. We’ll find it
out somehow. And now I think we
may go to bed. I’ll just look around.”
He examined the room carefully, but 1
there was nothing to be seen, neither
was there anything to be heard. So
we gave up the thing for that night and
went to bed. I could not sleep a wink.
My nerves were completely unstrung.
After a night of tossing and fever, I
awoke unrefreshed and mightily pleased
to find myself in broad daylight.
At noon that day I had to run the
gauntlet of my friends. And, 1 am bound
to say, I lied like Ananias. As the day
grew on I grew more and more un
comfortable and I fairly dreaded the or
deJk of the ensuing night. As before,
we dined in town. It was a line night
and we took a walk around the square
before turning in. The houses all i
looked cheerful with their brignt lights 1
Ours alone was black and gloomy. We j
agreed that at 2 o’clock precisely we !
would again visit the haunted room.
There was no danger of our going to |
sleep to-night. \\ e were painfully wide !
awake. All sorts of wild conjectures
crossed my mind as we sat by the ;
kitchen fire, waiting for the appointed j
hour. Perhaps some maniac had taken *
up his abode in the house and roved
about at‘night uttering that awful i
noise. Or perhaps some wily person
had a fancy to live rent-free and had
adopted this method of frightening the i
MT. VERNON, MONTGOMERY, CO.,GA., THURSDAY, NOVEMBER IS, 1886.
tenants away. In any case the eiloct
I was sutflciently horrible. The shock to
; one’s nervous system was the same,
whatever tho cause.
The whisky ebbed fast, but not so
fast as my courage. Mv brother, cool
and practical, was deep in thought
Ho was not likely to indulge the wild
speculations that crossed my brain. He
was seeking some material explanation
of tho weird phenomenon. At last the
hour began to sound. At the first stroke
my brother arose and took up the cau
dle. 1 had provided myself with a
second candle on my own account. We
examined the rooms on the ground
floor without success. We ascended
the stairs and panned outside the haunt
ed chamber. The passagors and tlio
stairs above us were thick with shad
ow. My brother turned the handle,
and the weird sound died away as wo
entered.
In a moment it came again. It rose
and swelled and died sorrowfully away.
It was singularly human. Yet it was
beyond all description unearthly. No
banshee could wail in sadder or more
thrilling tones. We stood there like
Dante and Virgil, except that the au
thor of the “Inferno” and his guide
did not wear carpet-slippers or carry
brass candlesticks. Neither had they
such extraordinary rough heads of hair
as we had. 1 felt mine going gray very
fast. And a cold stream of terror
trickled down my back. My brother
stood still and listened intently. The
ghost groaned again, aud yet again.
In fact, lie kept on groaning. It was
frightful. The wail began in a whis
per; it swelled to an acute pitch; it died
away in a note of woo that thrilled one’s
heart. It was awful to stand there,
waiting for the sound to come again.
My matter-of-fact brother spoke.
“He’s in good voice to-night,” tie
said, approvingly. “A bit bourse, but
I don’t wonder at that. Still, 1 wisli
he’d try another key. He’s been at lliis
long enough. And lie might got him
self tuned—hush!” 1 quite expected
some supernatural visitation to rebuke
this ill-timed levity. None came. My
t-rother, having politely waited until
j Mie ghost had finished, began again:
“All these groans are exactly alike,”
lie said, considering. “That's odd,
isn’t it? Will, I’ll tell you what. The
ghost’s up tlie chimney.” Once more
the sound came, as though to confirm
his words. And it certainly did appeal’
to proceed from the region of the lire
place.
“Still,” resumed my brother, thought
fully, “a ghost in a chimney is an un
comfortable sort of thing. Will, we’ll
have that chimney swept. Fancy a
ghost coming down with the soot. We’ll
see about it the first thing tomorrow.”
This awful threat appeared too much
for our unearthly visitor, for he gave
tongue no more that night. We went
to bed, aud 1 dreamed that the spirit of
a chimneysweep appeared to me and
confessed to the murder of one of the
little boys who were still employed in
those days in his profession. However,
I got some sleep. I got none the previ
ous night.
We left the office early in the after
noon. We secured the services of an
intelligent sweep and a sharp little
bright-eyed boy. The chimney was
amply wide for the youngster to climb,
and up he went. We waited in sus
pense.
When he came down he reported
' that he had found nothing. We ques
tioned him eagerly, but he had seen
no ghost or anything belonging to one.
We sent him up again. This time ho
found out something. This chimney
communicated with the one next door.
“That will be the kitchen chimney
next door.” said my brother. “We
must explore that.” Our landlady was
considerably amazed when we pre
sented ourselves and asked to be al
lowed to explore. After a little demur,
however, she consented. There was
but a small lire in the grate, and this
was taken out.
“I don’t make it up until 11 o’clock
at night.” she explained. ,“Not until
my master comes home tired after his
day’s work. Then we have our bit
of supper and drink our grog, and we
like to see a cheerful blaze. But in the
day I don’t trouble about it.” The boy
went up smartly and shortly reap
peared.
“Why, you’ve got a smoke-jack up
there, missis,” said lie.
“What’s a smoke-jack?” said my
brother hastily. The sweep explained.
“It’s a h-apparatus for roasting meat
fixed in the chimbley. It has little sails
like, just like a windmill, only they are
laid flat instead of being upright. The
hot airs comes up from the fire and
blows these sails around. Then there’s
a cog-wheel and that communicates the
motion to a fly-wheel. A chain passes
round the fly-wheel, coming down to
the grate, and turns the spit.”
“But where are the chains?”
“O, they’ve been taken oil - , I suppose.
It isn’t used now.”
“I didn’t know it was there,” said
our landlady.
“Doesn’t it mike a noise?” asked my
brother, with a quick look at rne.
“We don’t hear it,” replied the land
lady indifferently.
“Will.” said my brother, “just run
back to the bedroom arid listen. I be
lieve we’ve got it. Fiji going to -end
the boy up to turn the thing.” I lid a»
he requested. When I got i > the
room the ghost was groaning in plon
did form. He Was going far fast than
I had ever heard him before.
The mystery was solved.
We kept our secret. We were the ad
miration of every one who knew the
story of the house. And for a very sub
stantial reduction in the rent of a very
comfortable house we had to thank the
Groaning Ghost. Belgravia.
"SUB DEO FACIO FOR FI
THE MIDNIGHT SUN.
The (Jruiul Spoctiiclo to Il«» Witnessed
Where Morning and Kveniiig Meet*
No one comes to Norway without
taking the trip to Nordluud to seo the
sun at midnight. Tourist steamers
make regular summer trips from
j Throndlijcm; but, being a few days in
J ad\anet; of the first of these, I traveled
by a comfortable mail packet, and was
thus enabled to visit all the coast towns.
As almost the entire unite lies between
the Skj.ergaard Islands and tho main
land il is equivalent in snioothnoss to a
rive voyage. The KjOlen range, ex
tending along the coast, is remarkable
for the grotesque and fantastic shapes
rs its lofty peaks. Alternating with
these snow-clad cliff’s are. smiling val
leys and fertile fields, which give bright
ness to the landscape. Arctic birds,
penguins, osprey, and eider ducks,
abound. Whales and porpoises appear.
On the rocks immense numbers of cod
fish are spread to dry. The course lin
ing exceedingly tort nous, vessels navi
gate only by daylight. . Tito harvest
which Nature fails to yield upon the
bleak shore is amply compensated for
by that of the sea. The west-coast
people are farmers of the deep, and
luring February, March, and April
make tlietr headquarters upon the rug
ged Lofoten Islands. Hither the her
ring come and eod and whale pursue.
Prof- Huxley estimates that these eod
consume 700,000,000 herring at a single
banquet. In a single steng 25,000 bar
rels of herring are frequently taken.
The fish are driven into a shallow cove,
nets placed across the mouth, and then
they arc dipped out at leisure, to bo
salted and barreled almost before they
are dead. There are from 700 to 1H)0
fish in a barrel. Cod are caught with
both net and line.
Owing to the long arctic day, vegeta
tion grows very rapidly. Barley sown
in May is harvested in July. Even the
tnrf oil the house-tops is covered with
long grass. The same effect, of sunlight
is observed in the animal kingdom.
Wagtails frequently rear two broods in
ono season, so rapid is the development
of their young. At Bodo, the sun lin
ing continually above the horizon, I
was enabled to devote twenty of my
twe itv-two Lours’ stay to an excursion
inti the country, embracing a visit to
the Sultstfom. This famous whirlpool,
con pared with which the maelstrom
see led .insignificant, is formed by the
pre aire of.a rising tide forcing a stream
thr [glj a narrow strait into a sub
sidi ;y fjord. As the tide rises or falls
last;.■ than tlie basin can fill or empty,
iiie force of tlie current becomes enor
mous and its roar terrific. Owing to
eddies, a wedge-shaped wall of water
extends inward from the mouth of the
fjord until its apex disappears in the
vortex of tlie whirlpool. At Trornso
there is an interesting Lapp encamp
ment, where the fur-clad nomads of the
North bring their reindeer for Hummer
pasture. There being no snow in the
vicinity the desire for a sled-ride could
not be indulged, from llammeriest,
the northernmost town of Europe, the
voyage is speedily made to that rugged
promontory. Nordkap, from whoso
summit tlie nocturnal sun is seen riding
high over the mysterious Arctic ocean.
Rly deepest impressions from wit miss
ing the sublime spectacle of the mid
night sun were received at a point near
er the Arctic Circle. Il was one of
those hushed evenings which occur with
a falling barometer; so still that tlie
glassy surface of the adulating sea was
unruffled even by tlie breath of a
zephyr. Southward, above a wall of
cloud, majestic mountains reared their
snowy peaks. Far in the west floated a
fleet of fishing craft, and long lines of
water fowl were wingiug their way to
rocky resting places. Above the sun,
which from my stand near the compass
I watched swinging northward, lay
several parallel strata of fleecy clouds.
The water horizon rolled up higher and
higher until, like a great golden globe,
the sun rested upon its rim. The lower
cloud stratum became orange-tinted.
The next was dyed with saffron shades,
while the rosy reflection of the upper
stratum painted with delicate pink the
Kjolon cliffs in the south. For several
moments tlie motion of the earth seemed
checked, the sun stiii resting on the
ocean’s rim, and then— most startling
vision! —a line of litrht appears below
the fiery orb- the horizon iH retro
grading. By thus forcing the mind to
regard the sun as stationary iri his true
position, arid centering the attention on
our own planetary motion, an effect is
produced far more amazing than that
experienced by the startled Hezekiah
when the shadow retreated on the great
dial of Ahaz.- — Edward K. Taylor, in
San Francisco Chronicle.
Everything fair In War.
Jonas H ,of Washington. Ind.,
toward the close of the late war, was
body-servant to a quartermaster, and
after the close, and when the quarter
master had been mustered out, as Jonas
tells the story, he requested Smith, as a
last service before jiartirig, to take a
large box on a dray to the freight de
poi and ship it, asking Smith at the
same time “if lie could read and write.”
Jonas answered that lie could not,
started off with the box, and on the way
to tie station removed the shipping-tag
which bore the name of the quarter
master and that of the place the box
wa» to be siiipped, and substituted his
own name and address, arid by that
means obtained a box of new army
blankets the quartermaster intended to
capture or steal from Uncle Sam.
Jonas, who is fairly educated, said in
extenuation of tbi.-> commercial transac
tion: “Mr. Quartermaster‘captured’ the
blankets from the government, and 1
captured them from lum. Everything is
fair in war.” —Detroit Free Tress.
llow to Make Coffee.
Au English cook writes on this sub
ject;' it is not good policy to purchase
coffee ready ground, but if it must be
douc the supplies should bo small
ami frequent. Anyone may test the
purity of ground coffee by shaking a
littlo over a tumbler of clear, bright,
i cold water, and leaving it for an hour
| Or so. Pure coffee communicates its
| color to water slowly, and when the
| color has been imparted the infusion is
| still bright and clear, and the color is
never deep. But chicory and other
adulterants quickly produce an opaque
| and dark infusion. The difference is
so striking that for ordinary purposes a
better test is not required. To jilaco
! good coffee on the table daily is a
• simple and inexpensive business, but it
can not be done at a penny a cup, as
some folks are in haste to aver. At for
12d. to 20d. per pound a good coffee ill
j berry is always obtainable, and It]
pence mav at tlie present time lie con
sidered a fair family price. It is best to
roast, and grind as wanted, but the
grinding is tlie one important point,
because ground coffee quickly parts
with ils aroma, and there is a great
charm in having it made immediately
from Hie mill. In some houses tlie
trouble of grinding is thought much of,
but, as a matter of fact, it is almost
nothing, and a mill costing only a tew
shillings will last a lifotinio. Coffee
should never i>e boiled; it should ho
made with soft water at boiling heat,
but if lull’d water must be used it should
not be made to boil until wanted, for
boiling augments its hardness. A com
mon tall coffee-pot will make as good
coffee as any patented invention, but a
case litre is a convenient thing, as it pro*
: duces bright coffee in a few minutes,
and thus enables us to secure a maxi
mum ot tlie aroma and dispense with
the use ot any rubbish called “linings.”
Every one to his taste, we will say, but
as careless people make the coffee too
strong one day and too weak the next
the ground coffee and the boiling water
should be both measured, and it will
always take as much as four cups of
water to make three cups of coffee. For
the breakfast table the addition oi
about one-eighth of chicory is an im
provement, but. for tlie dinner table
coffee should lie made, without chicory,
because it dulls the piquant flavor of
the genuine article. Two points in
coffee-making deter people from using
it the trouble of grinding and tin
boiling of the milk. The grinding,
however, must lie done, and it is reallj
nothing, but the boiling of the milk can
lie advantageously evaded by using
Swiss milk, which harmonizes perfectly,
and by many well-trained palates is
preferred to fresh milk heated.
I*ny or Pass.
There is a general interchange of
passes among railroad men, and the
president and vice-president of the
Fonnsylvariia railroad have passes all
over tim country. Fresident Roberts is
a very strict man. One stormy day in
whiter ho got on the New York division
and took a seat in the middle of the ear.
The conductor knew him, as we all do,
and when he passed him the president
simply nodded. It was a catch, and
Roberts was only trying to see if bis
man would break the rules and not
make him show his pass. The conduct
or fell into Hie trap. When he passed
through the train again, Roberts arose
from liis seat, and, tapping him on the
shoulder, said:
“Seo here, you have not seen my
pass.”
“No, sir,” faltered the conductor,
“but -but 1 know who you are.”
! “That makes no difference;” retorted
Roberts with a frown; “the rules are
made to be obeyed and not to lie brok
en. The rules laid down for your guid
ance say that any passenger who has
neither a ticket nor a pass must pay his
fare or you must eject him from the
train.”
“1 know it,” replied the conductor,
“but ”
“No ’huts.’ Now you may go."
“I haven’t seen your pass yet.
though,” demurely remarked the tick
et-puncher, wishing to demonstrate tins
thoroughness of the lesson.
“That’s right,” replied Roberts, ap
provingly, “make no difference between
the president of the road and the poor
est passenger.”
Ho reached in liis inside coat pocket
and then into Ids vest pockets. His
face grew red and he fumbled around
his hip pockets. The conductor grin
ned. Roberts' sallow complexion grew
paler and then redder. He went through
liis pockets again, but no passes. The
conductor’s smile grew more expansive.
“Humph!” exclaimed tlie president.
“Singular! Just slop as you pass this
way again.”
The conductor stopped, and the pres
ident dryly handed him a $5 bill and
told him to takeout the fare. He had
left his book of pisses at his office. —
—Newark Call.
Knocking Over Tilings.
There are hundreds of -people who 1
seem to have a faculty for knocking j
things over. It is not sale to .Jet such j
people come near a lamp or a valuable *
vase. They are sure to brush against ■
it, and over it goes. 1 saw a slight j
young man on one occasion merely 1
bru*. against a heavy marble statue
am?it fell- fortunately on the grass of !
the lawn. He declared that lie did not '
push it, and I don’t believe lie did. It !
was unconscious magnetism. 1 hese
people I speak of, whom other people
call "clumsy,” are magnetic and un
conscious of their power. It’s a queer
subject and worth following op although
where it would lead uo one can tell.—
PliiladelftUiu Call. ~,
VOL I. NO 38
SOME STRANGE HANDS.
There U a Great Deal of Character In
Them if We Only Knew It.
Hamid reveal habits, occupations,
trades, "says a writer in Cassell's Family'
Magazine. A crop of them rises at the'
thought, like the show thrust up from a
crowd in honor of a candidate after an
election speech. There is the carpen
ter's, with tlie broad thumb, and those
of the fraternity of Hour, ingrained,
mealy, and white; the musician’s with
the powerful wrist and the lingers deli
cate, sensitive, and agile to the last de
gree; the hand of the seamstress, with
an honorable little bit of uutmeg-grater
on the forefinger that works so hard; of
| the scientific man, who lectures to ex
plain mysteries to lower mortals, and
whose exactitude of touch is the image
of his mental precision, while the nerv
ous stretch of his fingers corresponds
with his tension of mind.
The slight-of-hand professor is a man
of long lingers. A conjurer with a slow
and chubby hand would betray the aw
ful secrets of the plum-pudding that is
; taken from the depths of your best hat.
But besides character and trade, the
bands toll the ago. Soft and routid. the
baby’s nail - of pull-balls, with their fat
wrists deeply ringed, appear as if they
never can do anything in this world.
Yet the girl’s hand will become a treas
: lire, and the boy's hand will battie with
life and with his fellow-men for the
mastery. It is appalling to think of
what those helpless puff-balls have be
fore them.
After the tirst dimples they become
the inky hands of school; then the awk
ward hands that don’t kuow what to do
with themselves. Years pass, the boy’s
hands ceases to grumble at gloves—yes,
ho wears them in extravagant freshness,
in comparison as his collars grow up
ward, and his shoos tighten within an
inch of his life. The result of these
phenomena is that a ring begins to
shine with charming strangeness on an
other hand, that seemed a child’s but
yesterday. The young wife tells by her
hands that it is not long since the wed
ding, because she cannot let that new
ring alone, but twists it arouud for the
novelty, and admires it with an uncon
scious knack of carre,ssing it in idle mo
ments. Her dimples disappear, as the
children gather to make a home circle;
it is the hand of the woman now, with
j its very framework traceable.
Dimples, bones, and wrinkles mark
the three stages of life’s progress. With
the wrinkled stage the steadiness of
youth often remains in resolute charac
ters. When the Duke of Wellington,
was a very old man ho could still fill a,
glass of water to the last possible dropi
and hold it up steadily brimful. The/
j helpful hands keep their youthful ao-|
tivity, 100, far into the withering agn.,
! And in nobly-loving natures there is a
sort of immortality of youth; the warmth
of affection has given more than a royal
prerogative; the hand is beautiful al
ways to the eyes that know it familiar
ly. The later years only stamp it with
the impress of a longer past of tender
ness, faithfulness, and bounty. It is not
tho “old” hand but the “dear” hand,
and it never grows older, but only more
| dear. He who doubts the truth of this
1 last mystery has not yet found out that
; hands as well as hearts have a peculiar
place in our knowledge and love of one
| another. •
Sharp-Witted and Close-Fisted. 1
This is one of the latest stories in
connection with the Scott act: Some
' time ago a citizen ordered a barrel of
cider from a manufacturer not a dozen
miles from (iiiolph. The cider was not
delivered at the time appointed and a
few days afterward tho buyer asked the
seller why he did not till the order. The
1 answer given was to tiic effect that ho
J would lilce to be paid his money first
'The reply was that the money was all
right and to deliver the eider at once.
The seller accordingly went to the resi
dence of the purchaser a few days after
ward witli the cider. He would not de
liver it until ho had received tho col
lateral. After some talk '.he purchaser
handed the man ,t bill. As soon as
the order was taken from the wagon
the purchaser remarked; “Now, you
have played a pret y sharp trick on me,
doubting my honesty, now I will have
my torn. If you do not pay me back
that I will inform on you for selling
contrary to law.” The deliverer of the
| cider was in a fix, so to speak, blit he
was equal to the occasion. After a gen
eral talk, in which it was understood
that the receiver should pay for the
eider at convenience, tho matter was
apparently settled. The deliverer then
asked all hands to have a drink, which,
was served, when lie immediately asked
for his sii, remarking that he waa
not the only man who would bo com
pelled to pay a line of S6O. It is need
less to say that tho cider was paid for
forthwith. — Ouelplt (Can.) Mercury.
"Say. Jones,” said Bent low, “I un
derstand that you and Jerflyn are no
longer friends. What’s the trouble be
tween you?” “Trouble!” replied Jones.
“Trouble enough. He’s a scoundrel,
that man is, a villain, a cowardly thief!
O, if I only had him here now!” “Why,
my dear fellow, you seem to be excited,
i cant believe that Jerflyn is a3 bad as
that. What did he do to you?” “Do
to me? Trilled with the best and holi
est feeling than man can know —friend-
ship! Do to me? Betrayed me by his
false, smiling hypocritical face! Do to
me? Cheated 'me, outraged my finer
feelings, bruised me, and wounded me.
Do to me? Induced me to try to learn
ride on a bicycle! 0, the
Somerville Journal. *5
Martin Luther’s home as a child at
Mansiiukl. Saxony, has just boon rt»*
stored to its original condition. —,