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t VOL. xvm. ATLANTA, GA-, TUESDAY MORNING, MARCH 2, 1886. PRICE FIVE CENTS. i’ The Demon Plaque. n — AStoryinTwo Parts. J ' vo no jubi BB reauy w givo b wh into this some if hat darkened parlor I had- no* . wordsofadvlcolnacaaeof AAkludaxadoc- Aat Arroseemea to boaspporatranilaace vsSErQaaSB&Bs of whloh tu tied’n By Frank R. Stockton, [Copyilphted, 1896, by 8. 8. McClure. All rights reserved.] PABT X. HELD In my hand a letter which had lust boon given me by Hr. Carper,a gen tleman who was gen erally considered by my law partner, nl- thnngh oar Joint occapation of asot of i officers was the only 1 business connection 3between ns. The j letter was written, for rather printed, If with n typewriter, 'was signed Janet Floyd, and was ad dressed to Ur. Car per. It ran thus: "J will say at onoe that the name at the bottom of this note la an assumed one, and that tbla is written at the' house of a friend Who will address the envelope. I have taken these precautions because I do not wish you at present to know who lam. lly persouaU- ? 'is, however, of no importance whatever, as merely with to direct your attention to a Guo where a fow words from yon may save a Very deserving woman, who Is not able to employ legal advice, from mueh trouble and lass. I feel sure that yon will be glad of the oppor tunity or doing this worthy person a kindness, especially as It will take very little of yonr time. I will not state her case, because I do net clearly understand It, but, of coarse, it Will be plain enough to yon. The old lady's Dime la Mr*. Grome, and she lives on a very little Arm, whloh she owns, at the end of the second lano from the river, on the road to Ormaby park. I know that yon drlvo ont there very often, and it would probably dotain you bnt a short time to torn iuto tho lane and set this good woman’s mind straight about her affaire. I promised Mrs. Grome that I would Bend her a good adviser, and I fool sure you will not disregard this appeal to yonrklndlr feeling and benevolence. “Well," said I, as I returned tho • letter to Mr. Curner, “Janet Floyd, whoever she Is, Eeems to have a very high idea ot your kindly fooling and benevolence.” “Not any higher than she ought to have, if sho knows me,” ho answered, “and I anppose aho dors know me or she would not have taken no much pains to conceal her Identity. But) * although I am perfectly willing to do a kind net whenever called npon, and I think a law yer ought to be jnst as ready to give a few thing toduy or tomorrow. I want to get ont of town .lad us soon ts I can, and I have a lot of work to do before I go. I thought perhaps that you would bo riding out that way, aad wouldn't mind stepping In and twisting this worthy person around so that sho can see Where she standi.” I -Ss I HECEIVED inn ANONYMOUS LETTED. “That Is the way yon support yonr charac ter for benevolence, is it?” said I, ‘‘but as I in tended to go ont to Ormsby park this after noon, I am very willing to too this person, and do what I can for her.” Tho summer eras getting well on, the city Was hot, and I was just as anxious as Curporto get out of town, but was detained by an im portant case which eras to oom* on in a fow days I waa fund of horsebaok exercise, and a ride out to Ormaby park, a few miles from the city, was my favortto way of aolaolng myself after a hot day in court, or In my office. It was about five o'clock in the afternoon When I rode op to the gate of Mrs. Qrome’s front yard and, having tied my horse to that part of the fence which zoomed the strongest, I stepped upon the low porch and knocked at tho door. It was a queer little house, very old and very gray, and there was about it an apparent disposition to spread which gave me the Idea, when I first looked at it, that If tbe grape vines and honeysuckle vines end tho wisteria vines, tho Virginia creeper and the Other vines which encircle It eboat should bn remored, It would fell opart like a wooden pall deprived of Its hoops. The door was opened by an old woman in a short gown and petticoat and wearing ablue muslin apron and a blue muslinsnnbonnek “Good day, sir,” she said, with a little curtsy. “Walk In, sir. I snppose you’re a lawyer. The you;.. lady said sha d send mo one, and I've been a lookin’ fhr yon ever senoa she was here." . I replied that I waa a lawyer, mid would be clad to know what I could do for her. “Take a scat, sir, in this big chair and I 11 fell yoa Jut how old Billy HaakaU U tryin’ to cheat me ont of tho Tory bread I eat an tho bed I sleep on.” And setting herself near ms, cna still-backed, rash-bottomed chair, she ciened her hands on her knees, directed the was a neighbor of mine, Hirem Burns by name, who had a wife an' six children, all girls but the baby, an’ a horse, an' for thirteen years he has worxed my farm on sheen, an' he'd a been doin’ It now, him an 1 his horse, If he hadn’t died—I mean Hirem, of coarse—an’ his death is a great lots to me, as it wae also,” tbe quick[v added, ea If she hsd forgotten something, “to his wife and family. Bnt that la neither here nor there. I had nobody to work my farm; I couldn’t do it myself, an al together It was pretty herd on me, Hiram Burns dyin’ jest when he did. The neigh- bora all knowed it an’ talked about it, an’ Billy Haskell, an oldith man that llvoa about a mite from here, he come over an’ offered to work the farm on sheer an’ ftimfah e boss jest as Hiram did. Now Billy didn’t begin to bo aegood a worker as Hiram was, but thsre wssn’t nothin’ better to be done, as fir as I could see, an’ so I agreed that he should como an* work the Arm an’ furnish * hose, an’ have half the crap. Well, tbe lonp an’ the short of the sturyisthat Billy came and worked, bnt he didn’t fnrniah no hose, an’ I had to hlro tho Widdor Burnses hoes, which she was mighty glad to lot, every time there was any hose work to do, which seemed to me to bo pretty much the whole time. An’ now, Billy, ho up an’ says, an’ ha sticks to It, too, that he’s to have half the orap. An’, sir, Metre it to yon, A there anybody in this world, excent Billy Haskell, that ’ad call that fair?” “Certainly not,” said 1, "it your neighbor did not famish a horse, and thns fully perform his contract he is not entitled to hit fall half share of tho crop.” - ‘That’s jnst what the young lady Midi” exclaimed Mrs. Grome, with much animation, evidently delighted to have me on her tide, “an’ the said, says the, that if a reg’Iar lawyer could he got to go an’ tell that old Billy, It ’ud settle him, an’ he’d knowjthete’d be no use of suin’me. which ho keeps on throat’nln’ to do, 'specially senes this year’s crap ’ll toon be corn in’In, which it,hae nearly rained me to hire tho work bein’ done for, an’ if old BUly wu to soe me botidrt I might jest at well have agon- ’rel vandoo, an* go to tho poorhouse.” “Bnt If ho has no case be can’t hnrtyou.” I raid. “I suppose yon ire willing to give him whet A Airly dne him?” “fisrtslnly,” said she, “I’ve offered to pry him wages for every dsy he worked, bnt he won’t take ’em. What be wauts is half of last year’s trap. Ifa no nso my talkin’ to him', which I’ve done over «n' over. An’ the young lady, ahe.went an’ talked to him, but he tliinka women don’t know nothin’, an’ he stuck it out jest the rsme, that ho ought to have half tho crap. There never was a lady like that yonng lady. If she'd a been my own dsrtor and had been away from me fur a long time, an’ jest come back, sho couldn't a-been kinder, nor more willin’ to do fur me.” And then tho old woman went off Into a eulogy of this lady, to which I did not pay atrlct attention, for my mind waa beginning to he Interested in my surroundings. When I came from the bright light outside iuto this somewhat darkened parlor I had- no- Heed that there seemed to boaTraporabnmla-ico here to see these things as was brought from Chlny, She ain’t the fast one that’s done that nether, fur the city’s a good deal nearer than it used to he, an’ people’s, hoerd about ’em, and a good many folks hascoraoto look at ’em,mostly pretendin’ that they just stopped to git a drink of cool water from the well, which they couldn't are from tho road, an 1 why three rich peoplo In carriages should have to drivo up this lane to git a drink ot Water' more'n I kin tell, and none of 'tu E ot nnthln’ for tholr pains uuthcr, fori even’t como to soilin’ tho things I was raised among ylt. But thA young lady, an’ I wish I'd thought to ssk her name, sho’s above all alch sneakin' dodges as that. She jeet come wanted to look at ’em. jost as n good C yonng woman onghtor do, though in finor clothes an’ rather more flowers an’ Uoe oil her hat than would have been thought not elnful in my day; bnt people 1s changed. An’ I showed her my things, en’ while she waa lookin’at’em I told her how It was likely they’d be sold, an’the very houos over my heed, If old Billy Haskell como to hove his stay, an’ as I said before, sho ltstenod jest ss if she'd been e relation, an' asld she'd, send somebody that nd go an’ see old Billy, an' set everythin' ell right, an’ that if I ever sold that dish I most lot her have it, an' she’d pay mo a good price. I said I couldn't Bake up my mind to that all ol a sadden, but I’d think about it, to which sho told me that the was going array the next day to the sea shore, an' when she got hook see was coinin' out here, an’ hoped I'd let hor hare It. which I’vo made up my mind to do. An’ then she went over to teo Billy, as I tolled you, an' come beck to let me know it wasn't no good an' said she’d toad e lawyer that the knew, tomako It all straight to him. Afore the went away the took the oorner ot hor hsndkorchlef an’ Tabbed some of thorn brass lines on the pAto that goes aronnd tha flowers on' the outlandish Aggers, an’ said the believes they arts pure gold, an’ that the thing had been stole from tome heathen palace, which wasn't a very smart thing In her to say when wantin’ to bay, but I (han’t charge hor much more on account of their twin’ a chance that they may ho gold,” “I think yon ought to let her have It very cheep,” said I, “considering the ttonblo she bat taken on your account, and if I should succeed In making yonr neighbor oomo to sat isfactory terms, I’m not •nrebut that yoa ought THE OLD LACY TELLS tnnzzle of her sun bonnet All upon me and began her story. “You see,” raid she, “that I’ve got a little Arm here, and tone# my hoe- bund died I ain’t got no men Aiks to work U, Her folks of no kind, for that nntter. Bat I got along well enough till last year- Thera piece with otyecA, over each piece of pink gauze, to koep the fliee off, while on tbo’wnlls were a number of email pictures, protected in the same manuer. In Act, the room presented the appearanco of a patient In the early stages of a pink fever. But, on the well, and in a position whore the light of tho open door fell All npon it, wu an object which was not oovered with gauze. This was a risque, of some sort of earthen ware, which appeared A bo of a very enrloua design. I haves great fancy for ceramics, and, like many other people, I affect thou things which are odd and unlqno more than thou whloh are bcautlAl-snd unique, I waFsomuch Interested In tbA planne that I arose and approuhed It while the old woman was still praAlng her benefactress. It whs, indeed, a very curious object, the like of which I had never aeon be fore. It wu a round plate aboat a foot In dAmater, add quite deep, ao aa to be almost basin-llke In form. Tho bodyot tho plaque was of a rich, red oolor, bnt It wu nearly covered with oriental designs of various hues, the forms of which wore outlined with what appeared to bo threads of bnua, which ware evidently merely sunk into tho clay, and not fastened upon a copper basis, aa in Clolsonna ware. But the moot ^remarkable feature of thA plaque was tho body of a llttlo demon, Jet black In color, and about foar Inches In length, which leaned over the edge of the plate, hla legs and feet being underneath It. Directly opposite to him, leaning Ar backwards over the edge of the pAte, wu a bright, green Chinaman, with hA legs ana feet also underneath. One ontitreteked arm of the Meek demon clutched the end of tho qnene of tho green Chinaman, tho combination of queue and arm forming a handle to tho date, though apparently too slight for m in bat way. Tho wide-spread foot of tha China man, and those of the ao'vil, under the plaque, served ss supports to it whether sot npon the table or hnug npon thd wall. There was an nraount of wild, idiotic ’glee on the face of the demon, and of untrammelcd terror on that of tho Cbiuaman,which gave a delightful life and vigor to the lltuation. "May I aak where you got thA?” I nil to Mrs. Grome, who now stood by me. “That's jest what the yonng lady wanted to know,” the answered, “She said she conldn’t tell whether the Chinee wne meet afesred of l avin’ bis pig tail polled ont, or gitttn’ketebed by the devil, an* it looksra if one’s got to hap pen, sure. Well, yon see the way I gat tbA, an’ a good many other things about tho room, was through en ancle of mine, who wumate on a ship that went to Chlny an’ them parte more’n fifty years ago. He brought back these things in' give 'em to my mother, though If people bad thought ss much about 'em then u they do now, I reckon they'd a been sold en' something nseAt bought with the money. The yonng lady I wu tollin’ yon of, she did admire that devil dish, though she eeid I oughtn’t to cell It by that name, en’ she wanted to buy It, but I don't know about that These things has been changin'here ever sencc I Was n gal, an' the Ait lesions my mother give me In kaertol dustin' was on three caps ail’ raaeen en’chlny Aggers, en' I've dusted ’em reg’Iar ever eenee. If I was to come down In the mornin' en' find any of’em gone, tt ud seem to me os if It was the begin- nin’ of the breakup. But if I eVer do aell any thing It'll be that dish, Arifs the ugliest piece of goods I’ve got an’ the young lady did so admire It that I took the klver off it so she could look >t it better, an’ wuilo it was off I thought I might as well wash it, an' I ain't put It on agin.” “If you shouldn’t sell It to that lady,’’said I, “I should like very much to bay it my- K '“6b, no, no, no!” cried Mrs. Grome. “If inybodv hays that dish, an’ I ain’t sore I’ll sell It at all, It’ll he that young erector, who’s jest as rrettv as that chlny thing Is ugly, though, of course, I wouldn't sell it to her, Ar that, but she wu ao kind an’ good listenin' to all my troubles, an' A goin’ over to see old Billy Has kell aif in send In? yon here, that I’d do Ar her what I wouldn't do Arnobody eAe.” “How did you come to know thA lady?” I raked, begthnlng to take eoaw Interest to tbs object of Mrs, GromeJ admiration aad gntl- 1 “Well,” said tbe old woman, "she essas to give it to her. “Oh, my,” cried Mrs. Grome, “I conkin' afford to do that! But I'll lot her bare It lust as low u I kin.” Having obtained directions from the old women,1 redo over to the abode of Mf Billy Hu hell, hut that gentlemen wu not at home,and as 1 had now no time to welt Ar him, 1 re turned to the city. The next morning I told Mr. Carper what I had hoard of Mrs. Grume's ease, and he agreed with mo that of cunne tho old man had not n leg to stand upon, and that if he had not furnlahcdahorao,uhoagreed, ho ought not to have half of tbo crop. aafr»’$iff£j‘Arii qjM&rlde afternoon, aim n3 flu; a!ratr has boon taken In hand I supposo it ought to bo attendod to at once.” ‘•All right,’ oaid Curpor, “I really ought to knock ou Ar a couple of hours thA afternoon, and u it won’t be necessary lor me to see the old women, I’ll take a spin ont there and set tle Mr. Billy What-yon-oall-hlm, if you will tell mo where to find him.” “Hello,” said Mr. Curpor tho next morning, when we met at tho office, “yon have got that aflhlr all wrong. Your old woman didn’t half state the case. It'sppears that the agreement was that lleskell wu to ArnAh the hone, bat she was to feed him. This she did net do, and the hoi so starved to death at the very begin ning of their partnership. Htskell took him over there on a Friday; Saturday was Decora tion Day, and the old woman went to town; and on Uonnay it rained, and nc- plough ing could he done; and whon ho wont over on Tuesday tho borso wu dead; and It was found that he had died from starvation. Tbe old woman refuses to pay for the hone, nor will sho adhere to tho original bargain, although Haskell has done all that he promise dto do. Now, If hA statement A correct, and I sup pose there will bo no trouble in getting at the facts, the old man ought to have tbe value of half the crop, whloh, u I understand (t, wu a vi ry small one, and would scaroolv pay him for tbe loss of hA horse, and for hA labor.” “I hsd an idea,” said I. “when I wu talk ing to Hra. Grome, that she wu a grasping old creature, end that her gratitude to the yonng lady who befriended her wu more talk than stiything else.” "Ab," said Curpor, closing tbe law book ho had jest opened, “that yonnglidj, to be anro, who Ir, of course,-the Janet Floyd of my lot- ter. 1 forgot to say how eloquent tbe old nun was about this young person, for whom ho l as evidently conceived a great admlratlon.- It was qnlte plain that he wu disappointed that ahe didn’t come to see him instead of sending me. From hA account she must be a flnegirl, dressed tip-top and very pretty. I put him through a regular cross-examination alouther, fori want to find ont what HAs Janet looks like, and who aho Is, but so far I can’t place her. Butlll do it yet. I’m bound to Ana out who she Is." Upon thA I remarked that it seemed to me that if tbe lady desired to remain unknown her wAbes ought to he reepectod, and that by undertaking the affair aho proposed to him, he bed, in e manner, entered Into a contract with her not to endeavor to And ont who aho was. “That's drawing It too line," said Mr. Car per, “entirely too fine. There esn be no urth- [y reason why this young lady should object to my knowing who she A, except that the doesn’t want to he under obligations to me, end, If that’s tho ease, I feel that I am justi fied In finding ont who I am working for. protect tlio unknown young lady from Mr. Cur; er’e ob'.mivo curiosity, and I kmuv very will that if Mrs. Grotuo talked to him about her, Ms zeal in pursuit of hor Identity would bo greatly increased. Of course, my feelings ir, tbo matter wore entirely disinterested; but if this .Timet Floyd was tho kind and gettor- oua girl there was every reason to suppose hor tu lie, end wu, moreover, a person of culture and taste, as was indicated by her praforonco for tbo demon plaque wlrctt there were to many pretty things among Mrs. Gromo’a treasures; and if. too, shoharlthat frank and hone st spirit which was shown la her letter to Cur per, ami in her abandonment of all pre tense in coming to eeo Mrs. Grome; I felt that rr.yoflico associate W.U3 trot tires man who should l-o hunting herup. There waa nothing positively Intel about Curpor, and I should ho looth lossy anything that would injure his character; but ho was a yorttrg man who paid rather too mueh attention to hla dress, who was rather too much of a club man, who was rather loo fond of being; considered a man about town; who was ratlrer too much givon to expensive cigars and other extravagancies, and who, iufact, lmel so good an opinion of himself that bo naturally aroused a spirit of oppesitlcn cm the subject in fltoso with whom bo associated. There was a rrcucml air about him which Indicated that ho was all right attd what lie did was all right, and if other people did not rgreo with him it was a matter of very little importance to Mr. Corner. I hsd tto right to take any actlvo stops to prevent him front discovering tho unknown lady, but I certainly did not Intend to help blur to do so, and If in any Indirect way coubl acsiat Mia Janet Floyd In preserving lrcr incognito I would do it. As I hsd been arked to engage in tho affair, I considered tint this attention to her wishes was as much a duty cs anything else. I bad nothing what ever to gain liy this eonrse, hut I am a man of ptlnclple, raid I murt also admit that Carper's manner was rrrch as to arouse In me, lira mod erate degree, that spirit of opposition to which I havo alluded. For these reasons I was very sw 111 it g to visit Mrs. Gromoagalu; and,besides, I bad r.o objections to havo another look ot tho demon plaque, of which I determined to obtain tho iifuinl, In case tho young lady did not buy When I saw Sirs. Grome that afternoon and told her whst I bad heard of tho farts In hur dispute with Mr. Haskell, she lifted up hor hands, openod whlo hor era and mouth, and tillered sn exclamation of enraged amazement. “Did old Billy tell you that,” oho e-rlcd. *‘No, said I; “I did not seo him when Hwenl over there, but another gentleman, a him so yonx* lax,ye*n eahtd.uprn him and ho told me -haerfi axnd 1 w-es very« out there Wlr tho matter ; ^Cr'pft’toldl, she wished to rerosin nnknown at present, and Art clearly indicated that at some fotare time the intended to make herself known to 5 "“That won't do,” raid Mr. Carper as he lighted hla cigar and seated himself at his momfng’a work; “when I give my services for nothing, I, at least, want to know who I am working tor, especially when I have reason to believe that parson A a yonng and uncommon- and turned toward! my “By the way," cried Carper. “I suppose the business pert of thA thing ni ght ns well be finished up at once, end It will be impossible for me to do anything more now If I nm going ont of town thA summer. Couldn’t yon drop in on your client?” “My client!” IcxcAimed. “Yea, the old women,” raid Carper. “As It hen tamed ont she’s yonr client, and-the old man A mine. Just let her know that the sooner •he does the square thing tbe bettor it will bo forill parties. And If she doesn’t agraeto that, Htskell will have to soe, that's all there A about it.” “That’s tha way yon gin your service/, A K?” I takl. “You look after the pretty girl In tha business, and utk other people to do thq ork." “Not at all,'’ said Carper, In a tone that Mi nted that hA feelings had boon hurt. “You know very well that I weald have attended to this whole thing if I bail time; bat If yoa eltoors to drop it I may go and see the old woman next week.” While he had been talking I hsd been think ing. "No,” raid I, “I can see her AA afternoon,” and I walked Into my private room. For some reason, which I could not well ex plain to mytelf, I folt that I would liko ‘ ‘ “ mknown "OLD PIKE," bY william wibt. “A prejiy gentloman, ho must bo,” ex claimed Mrs. Grome, "to bellovo such stuff as thstl—thet I’d go and atarvo a boss that f ex pected to work my farm. Tho truth is, tho wretched beast died bccauto he was too old to eat." "Too old to cal!” I exclaimed. ‘That’s just how ’twaa,” said she. “Billy BILLY BBIKGS THE HOUSE, brought tho creator over on Friday, to’s to bare him nil ready for work tbe next day, though he didn't ray nothin' about hA Intend in’ to keep that a holiday, an' I airs him hay an' raU an’ corn, all of which I had bought ready Ar him, hut be eouldn’t eat nothin', an’ when Billy come Tuesday tbe hosswu as dead as a nil, an’ I had to pay Ar havin’ him healed away. Tha neighbors, they said tha hers ws.i "so old when Billy bought him that most likely he'd given up citin’ uforo he wu brought here. An’ to think of Billy Haskell askin' for half the crap after that way offur- uAilin'n horn!" “And did not (he old men coma to see about the animal during those three days?” “Not a bit of II,” ahe said, “end I hadn’t no* bet y to send artcr him nuther,” “Thin it ls qnlte evident,” raid I, “that he plsyrd a Irlck on you, and expected hA aged beset to dlo on yonr hands,' I'll ride over and see him.” “I ulsh you would,’’said Mrs. Groms, ”an’ yen ran )cst tell him that If he’ll tako wages fir tho time he worked an’ any no more about his bon an’ half n crap, wall settle np the whole Imelnew an’ be friendly an’ sociable aa t waa 1 eAre.” Having gene into the bourn to take nnothor In k at the demon pAque, and having, been promised by Mia. Grome that If her yonng iiuiy did not buy it whenshe came back from the tea (bore that I should be allowed to be- umt its purchaser, I rode over to see Billy Haskell. (Concluded Next Week.) THE MORMONS BBH-fOgRENT. Salt Lake City,February BS.--ThU evening as the United gtetee District Attorney Dlekson was leaving the dining room at the Continental hotel, where ha boards with his family, three men asked to see him at the outer door He went to the door, wnen one of tbe men struck him In the Ace, It A supposed with a stone, tu other two elding In the aaaanIL Judge Powers, who was in the hotel, thinking the action of the men peculiar, and Major Klry, landlord of tbo hotel tolioacd, and got to the door just after Dickson bad been struck. Frank J. Cannon, son of George Q. Cannon, and Argus Cannon were two of the avail ant*. ana tbe third who Bed A nnknown. Judge Powers put tbo Cannons tmder arrest. IPoUcemtn Smith subsequently tenk Freak J. Cannon away, contra ry to direction from Judge Bowen. United Mates Marshal Ireland soon arrived and took charge or Angus Cannon who., when searched, was found to hares self cocking pistol with a’l tbe chambers loaded on hu perron. A great crowd collected, among them a number of women, sKfrtSB sotSiM mess not serious,yhurt. Tb^ratd^S^euif meat end farther troubA to net improbable. When Frank 1>. Cawnon waa (mated tinned ritetsv cow.- mbsloner Paddock beard hint lay, "D-.—, g will kill blByet-”' (Copyrighted 1880 by 8. 8. McClure.) “Old 1’iita had somehow drifted to tho pro vincial town of Bristol. “Dan” said ho “oomo down from ont of the mountains somowbar,” and I guess that A where be ls from. When I first knew him ho lived—or rather existed— on tho ragged odge of the poverty-stricken district. Ho used to cut wood and work the garden for me, not as lending min, but as t kind of assistant to “Dan.” “Din” was poor and wretched enough looking, God knows how he would alwsys share his labor with “Old Pike,” 1 think to encourage and help him along a little. Dan had n groat, big, full-grown ■oul, though his llttlo diseased body was wrinkled aud shriveled like a lost year's popper pod. Ho was sympsthetlc too in It Aerude way. But It was about “Old Pike” I wanted to toll- I don’t know why he wu called “Old”Plko. Any other man at hA ago would have been A the prims of life; hat some measure ago by sorrow. I think It was so with “Old Pike.” I remember tho first work ho did for mo, Itwasin early spring, and the March winds wen sharper than a two-edged sword—hA faoo was thin and palm except whore tho sharp winds had bitten tneend of bA aquiline nose, and tho tender and wlnkerlen rims of his drawn eyelids red—hA watery bine eyos had n sorrowful look—there was no glow of health or vesrige of color on hA sallow cheeks; lio had what tho world calls a “hang-dog” tonic, but with a woman's Intnltlvoneas, I thought 1 could soe behind that hopoleu exterior n great sorrow—liA very prooenca was like an affile- tbm, and I could never entirely forget him alter ha had worked all day In my sight. On this particular March day he was the embodl- with Dan all day, and Dan proposed equally hla pay, which wu one dolAr. (I re member now, rather sorrowfully, how “Old Pike” told me “ha never worked by the day,” and he preferred my saying what hA Jobs WHO worth.) I thought It good in Dan, such generosity, end paid them sixty conti apiece, Instead of fifty. Whon they were nearly out of sight I rantoglvo “Old Pika” more, hoping to kill tho sorrow out of hA Ace, for It was of (list woAl character that haantod me and made mo feel, whon paying him, that I ought to empty tho contents of my portomonalo In his rough, scarred hand without n scruple. Tlmt was tho Impression ha mads on mo; and spring melted Into rammer and rammer molt ed iuto All, hnd still I neglected to look into the homo and Ufa of “Old Pike,” us I had promised myself a hundred tlmos to do, until winter cftmo again—tho coldest winter this country , evor knew, I had uqt laid eyes on Dan tec tings, str.t!. 1 w/s very »n re that he aud "•hr Dikes’' with their rcspcclivi, fun,lllces wero „.ill«ini with cold andnnnger. With theso thoughts 1 waa sitting in my own sunny llttlo room, fool ing tony for tho poor, and beside that doing vuy little, when Dan tnodo hA appoaranoe. 1 knew the cold had kopt him away. I was gAd to see him out. “Wall, Dan,” I said, “you are not frozen out tbA wcatlior.” “Ah I Missus,” ho replied (he li a poor, hum ble; servile creature, and always celA ms MIs ms), “Ah I Missus, wo aro livin’, but wo has raftered mightily, I tell you, I was bora anti raised In this country,” bo contlnuod, “and I baln’t never seen no sick weather as this, and tho oldest man In these parts bsln’t never seen none like It.” 1 found It difficult to koep wtnn with n glowing fire night and day. Ibid positively suffered from cold nmld all thoso comforts. How bad It been with Dan, poor “Old Pike,” and dozens of otbors? Truo wo wore poor, but su rich compared with these. My heart oeat —, ti Ally os I looked at fail v, anil thinly clsd body. I hope you haven’t had to go out In tho wbathar much,” I raid, “I atu afraid your clothes aro not wsrm.” “Oh! yes!” he replied, his fiteo boimlng with a wonderful gratitude for hA small Hon ings. “My clothes ain’t what you msy coll warm, bnt I hain’t norcr boon so bad off as poor ’Uhl Pike.’ I toll yon. Missus, If tho poo- plo hadn’t erbeen so good to him and hls’n, 1 dnnno what he’d a done. Lord!” he contin ued, in a rambling way, “that man has soon sights, sights o’ trpuble. Nobody dnnno what that nm has scon.” I had often wondered what ho hail soon, and was only too ready to bellovo that It was “sights,” and rach slghA as hsd loft n sorrow ful impress, but I waa so often laughed at for my interest In the old man. “Why that trifling old Allow,” they would say, "bo’s no account; won’t work; too lasy to work by tha day. There’s no good In him,” and rach like ipecchra tllat my interest, tho 1 undying, hail somewhat Anguished, Dan had alwsys been reticent on tbs rahject, bnt this morning ha seemed ready and willing onongb to talk; ha was filled with gratitude and sympathy and they warmed him u no fire could do. ‘Tee," be continued, looking down, and talking more as n natural impulse than Imparting informa tion, more to himself than to me, Yes, he’s seen sights. Old Pike has. Pika's a man, Pike A; bnt he has seen sights; b A wife died, poor critter; 'tans tha spring be worked for f ou. Bhs'd bean ailing n yennor more. I mind took him along that day to kind o’ rallars bis feelings, Ar no was nnoommon troubled; wbst with n danghter lying bedflut with con sumption and n lama son nigh about blind, hs bad enough to troubA him. Twos nigh about two months after that hA oldest gal got burnt tn death. ’Peered llko that woald aiiout fin ish him np, bat tbe old man didn’t havo no time to grieve. You see, poor folks never hu. They work bard,(and kindo'forgit In the day, but Lord! they think like other folks at night, sihenthey have Urns to think at all. No, he didn’t have no time to grAva, for there wis tha sick one/and tha lama one and tiro other little ones, and it took ill ha could make to feed ’em and keap a fewelotheaon ’em.” Stop ping suddenly ha bravhed n tear from the end of his non with the assert An that It was so cold a fellow’s eyes wonld ran wster oven In tha bouse.*'Ab, missus,” bo continnad while the obstinate tears continued to trickle down bAfsca. “It’sspItlAl sight to sec that obi man—and ha ain’t old, nntber, ’ceptln' It's trouble makes him look old—It's pitiful to seo him cook, and clean the house, and waih and dr era them sick and lama nna, and wash and Iren tbeA clothes, and nu> 'am—gratia and kind m a woman—It'a mighty little time the old man has to work outside, and bo ain't never begged, nether. One time, when he was oct al) day lookin' for work, and there wo’nt nothin’in tho house to ant, tha little K 1 begged ramtbln’ for tho coo sampled one base the wiaweak and faint like; but aha don’t hare tt> do that no more now, for tha lord took the stele one on Bunds/, and I wu all day X Monday tnrtn’ to get her grave dug. I conku n’t get no help, and it’pesred like tho (fiind was frozen plum to tha bottom.” “Oh!” I sold, llmdilcringlnwardly;‘Tt Aaw- At weather to dig y grave.” I canid see from my window tha graveyard in bold outline agalnzt a coM, gray sky—tho snow bad been falling for two days, and tho Whole face of tbo earth wis shrouded—tha winds kept the air thick with drifting snowand the mercury stood twonty degrees below zero. 1 was not thinking of Dan. standing boforo mo, . but of Dsn, fklthAl soul, all alono ou that wintry kill, lu tho driving bAit.wltlinut graat cost or gloves or any comfort, digging tho grave of “Old I’iku's” dead child—blowing his breath In hU stiff hands to wsrm thorn, tugging forlifo at As frozen clods, Working for what! There was no remaneratlon in “lunl cash," nor yet In greenbacks—bat tburowsv nay In the tears of gratitude that All on his boruoy bands from “Old Pike’s” eyes, as ha said: "God bless yon, Dan! God blcuyonl” I conldd ire “Old Pike," tho ouo lonely mcniner, with hid pale, narrow, hopeless fare lit np Ar n’srcond with gratitude then sink back to 1A mournful shadows, and drawing n long sigh, I repeated Ao ono word, -’awful.’’ “Yea, It was awful," bo said, "but it wa’at os bod as settln’ thar and hearin’ the old msn moan for tbo child be bad done so much for; and, uow Ao wu dead. It 'pcared like ao llttlo —It ’pcared to him like ho, mcbho, could V dono more, But, missus,” ho conntlnuod,wltli a solemn tbaka of bis head, “I don’t think there wu nnthln’ left undone that bo could V done. “All lndurtn’ tbe cold tlayi. be used to taks ber up, tender M a baby, and boldln’her boforo the fire, mb her thin whllahandi—too whito for live poor folks—with bA groat, rough ones, till they wu warm. Folks said Aa froza to death, and some said aha starved, but I’tn ’bloegcd to correct them Alas. She nsvor suf fered from cold. I don’t say u tbo balanco didn’t, nor I don’t say M the others didn’t want for somethin’ to eat, but I know they done all they could for her, I reck on sho longcu (omctlmcs for somethin’ deli cate, llko tho rich folks hu—they say all sick, cousumptcd folks do—but she never told tbo old man, Ar sho knowed bo wu doin’,bis hut. Yoa,” bo uid, after n moment’s pause, “dlggln’a grave sick woathcr Is awful—but there’s a sight o’things hardor than Ast. It’s n heap balder thlugtosoo that boy o’ hlsscu settln' there In darkmtu, for tho day and Ao night la nigh shout tho tamo to him—a settln’ there u patient—of he's got sonoAIn' to eat it’s all right, of ho’a nungry It’s sll right, he don’t nevor compUln; ’pears like God O’mtgbty don't put tho urao kind o’ spirits In afflicted folks us iu them us cau sou and hear and get shout; ’pears like that hoy’s gntrAUer for nothin’, its yon may aay, than Aa Aiks u hu everything.” 1 looked at Da; bis well-worn hat wu rent and haltered, and sewed with eoarae, whito Arced. BciunsuA of bA Arokd-hsre dost dangled llko wlthorcd leaves around bis hara bauds. Ths covering for his leas scarcely de served tbo muuo of ahues, aud his well pul- Abed pants cluug to bA meager legs, around which I wu sure wero no warm m;!!u-r gar ments. But there ho was—so syuipaAotlc, so grateful, so unconscious of tho fact that hla only legacy ivos an Incurablo dlsu o, it sorofu- lousdAfigitrcmcnt of eyes and foot that ma le IiMBolmcst hideous to lookopou. Nature hid iudiulbttll cl.cry of li-r gil'H tuliru.lclt God Lad put a great, honest soil Iu that do- ncpld llttlo body that wu beautiful to think npon, “1 haln’t never hod to uk r no charity," ho presently said, looking ap cheerfully. ‘T’vo always bu-u able to go out and get work when Aero wu work to do, bnt ’Old PihoV pitiful; folks may think be’a triflin’, and I don't say but as somo of ’em do, but It’s onlust, missus, sburo’t you're burn—It's onjuit. Trouble aud;-overly bos took tboaplrlt outon or liim—just tbo same as you waih tha color outen cr ploco o' calico. 1 rays to him aoma- times, 'Keep up, obi Allow,' to kinder oucouroge him, but hu S ain’t nothin’ to koep up on; It’s kou man as has lost his way and night comes on;'pears like he's down In tho dark now and Aero bain't nothin’ Jcfs to heft' hlut up. Team like bo’ll norcr find his way rloar no more, for’gin bo gits uso to doin’ without tho gsl tho boy’ll go, for bA gravo don’t ’pear to me to he far off somehow. Mokks bo’ll Iln- { cr on till spring, but It dun’t soom accordin’ o imlcr for Mm to huld out” Ho look- d Into tho flro thoughtfully o few seconds, PWtapk he was waiting for me to say some thing, hut my heart tins too full of tho sod picture to odor n comment. Gathering up hU bat ho contiouoJ, as ho norcAo go: "God Oinlghty knows, ’Old I’iko’ has sconn light o’trouble. Three of’em alayln’np Aore on tbo hill, and tin balanco has got tho look o’ death In thur eyes, thar ain’t no inAtako about that; ho hain’t nothin’ to make him choorful— nothin’ In thA world." With n few llttlo comforts for hA wife and children I bade him good-byo and sat down to think upon the truths hs had unwittingly told mo. t “Old Pike," I said, “A only one of a hun dred.” Truly, tha harvest ls ripe, but where arc tbo Aborcis? It waa as "Dan” had said. “There wsA’t nothin’ on earth to mike Old. I’iko cheerful," but thsre wore hundreds who woald Ake heart and bo glad out m, con torts wc dole out In ernmfis Instead of loavos. Den, poor, ignorant Dsn—bad taught me a lesson, and fur Aa good of my readers, let me ay tho wor|d le All of ’-Ohl pikes." A Viranger-e First Sleeper. From tho Ytulb’a Champion, A alceplng car portor baa m»ny rich experi ences while on the run. Faya an old campaigner: • People oiler: come In here who havo never bean liulde ofa sleeping car before. We had such a i-i-o Ail week. An old man and h A wife name In whllu we wen at Missouri Valley Junction, lio was dr erred In a Miff black suit, and his wife carried n brand new, big black vallee, shining with varnlih. •• •Wbera’smybouk? 1 want to see my bunk,’ raid tbe old fellow. “1 looked at bA ticket, and then pointed out his berth section, which was No. A " ’Well, but I want to sea ray bunk !" ” ‘Do you want to go to bod now?' I asked, “'aotobed! Well,Igneranot! tafikrtntCyruil Wbst I want to sea A my bunk! Where Is It:' “l explained to him that the- berths we-ro msoe up after dork, ud ho coubl sec m» 'bulk.' 'ifO# ” 'Well, Martby, wa might cz well rami) right clown hero cn' wait for tho thing to bo mado up.’ "I didn't have tlmo to explain then, but carl/ In the evening I him If ho would llko to havo bisbarthmadaup. *' 'Well, jet; don't keer of I do. I glue rally go to tod txmt thta tlm^to bon**' ' * * ~ •* f •He Ktmcd to expect mo to go into the baggago oar or iomewhere and bring in n btditaad or n.>ine- tbing of that rdrt: to I thought I would show him bow the bed* wait made up." "*Yoni«c thta little handle up here, over tho ai*l*f Mid I. ‘Well, I Ju*t puli this, and tho uppet Urth cornea down *0.’ "Ailpulled It down the obi man lumped np* bumped his head against the demanding berth* seized his wife And exclaimed: " 'Let’s get out or this, Martby. The hull thing’* cornin' down.’ "When the old gentleman had recovered fc-Mn kUfright, and tbeperaemters hA ceased Uugl.lngt l made np the t arths and lha old teal < .nap. ad Into tbe upper one, highly pleasad with MB ’bunk,’ which, raid he, ‘boats my upstairs bedroom at home!’ “And,” continued the potter, “before wc gol to Chicago he bad teamed the wqyof lha 'h-epem *• wen that he gave mo hal(( dollar for Ma king hli :. t