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THE “FOURTH” AND “FIFTH." .r-nim N the morning of the j—Fourth 'ni™ ® ■ W Reign* supreme the S. Crackers, cr a c kers, 7 • fire and smoke, *?• Endless, noisy joy. /K\ Jingling In his pockets V wait Nickles, cents and ,« dimes, That seem clinking K tales to him Os tuch jolly times. If Flags aloft, the world ■3) astir, F j Trumpets add their blare, Etfj/ School Is out, the fun is on, ! Life is something rare - Fast the jingling coins 4 vl escape From his fingers black. Oh! this joy that manhood’s prime Never can bring back. Fireworks with the shadows come, Rockets all ablaze, Candles, wheels and shooting stars, That enchant his gaze. Crowds of people, laughter, shouts, Frolics everywhere, Till he thinks the fun must stay Ever in the air. Tell him not the “Fifth” will find ' Him In sorry plight; He will only laugh and plunge Deeper In delight. And, as fast the years slip on, Will he, looking back, See the “Fifth" and all the pangs Hanging on its track J No, the short and merry "Fourth" » He alone will see. While the long and painful “Fifth" Will forgotten be. —Clara J. Denton, In Golden Days. THE LIBERTY BELL. How It Proclaimed Our First Inde pendence Day. /' z || ■ EY, there, ■ * zjl ill Patches! where 'll did you get ’BOW! your dog?” M’uk ’* 111 The tone was •' insulting, '“'Ti and the lad, If whose cheeks .. 1 v~I had reddened I —a ) at the allusion \Jf i to his worn, ’ though neat n u ■ and well - * vl mended attire, glanced an- ~ ***” grily at the ~ r i c hly-dressed young aristocrat, although he answered civilly: “If you are speaking to nse, I raised him from a pup;” while bis hand dropped caressingly on the heab of the noble mastiff which stalked sedately by his side. “What will you take for him?" “He is not for sale, Master Cathcart.” “Not if 1 offer you two guineas for bim?" “No, nor three. Penn is worth his weight in gold;” and the boy tightened his hold on his pet’s short hair as.if afraid he might be taken away without his consent. But now the first speaker's manner became more conciliating, as he urged: “See here, Harding, don't be a fool. I have a fancy for your beast, so take these and call it a bargain.” And he drew four gold pieces from his pocket and held them out where they glittered temptingly in the July sunshine. “Nay, nay, as I told ye, my dog is not for sale, so go your way and let me go mine.” “Miserable Yankee! That I will not!" tried young Cathcart, who never could brook opposition. “I want the mastiff, and Ive half a mind to send my father's men to confiscate him in the name of his blessed majesty King George. Such as — — -OS’-rytJ ' UZM (WfcSc, ajs., “IS THIS A TIME FOR FIGHTING?” you have no business with a valuable thoroughbred, though doubtless his meat is never paid for. ” “Never paid for! What do you mean by that?” asked Harding, turning pale with rage. “Even what I say. ‘What’s bred in the bone will come out in the flesh,’ and verily it looks suspicious when the bantling of a jail-bird can keep a big dog, while his father lies in the debtors’ prison,’ sneered the English boy. “Zounds, but such insults can only be avenged by knocks,” cried Harding, doubling his fists and approaching his tormentor who, however, contented himself with waving a short stick he carried, and shouting: “Keep off, sirrah! How dare you lay a finger on the son of a British officer and the grandson of a lord! You shall be reported and locked ap for this.” “<4 fig for your King’s men! lam an American, and Americans dare to fight, as you and your fine Tory friends will soon learn;” and the peppery little Yan kee struck out boldly from the shoul der, while Penn, seeing his master’s war-like attitude, showed his teeth in a low, ominous growl. Another moment and the hot-headed youngsters clinched, and would have been down in a rough-and-tumble fight had not an old man, in plain Quaker garb, suddenly appeared on the scene and separated them. “Peace, there!” he said, laying a hand on the shoulder of each and gazing sternly into their flushed, angry faces. “Is this a time for fighting and brawl ing in the public streets, when the country is trembling on the verge of a great crisis? Thee knows better, Nel son Harding; while as for thee, Regi nald Cathcart, thy father’s rank should restrain thee.” Harding’s eyes still fl ashed, but Cath cart, with a glance at the mastiff, whose deep growls like distant thunder made him glad of any chance to withdraw from the encounter in an honorable manner, responded: “True, sir. I fear 1 did forget myself for a moment. Nobleeu oblige, of course. So, if my an tagonist is satisfied, I will bid you both good-day;” and having brushed the dust from his silk camlet suit and lace ruffles, this small sprig of English nobility marched off with the haughty air he fancied so well became his station. “What would Margaret Harding say did she know thee had been exchanging blows thus publicly with a royalist?” asked the old Friend. “My mother would regret it, no doubt,” replied Nelson, “but Grandpa Darrah, he insulted my father as well as myself. He called him a —a —jail- bird;” and a great sob rose in the boy’s throat “Wrong, indeed was that,” said the aged man. “But two wrongs never make a right, and ’tis likely the boy knew not that Benjamin Harding was unfortunate, not wicked. Long and bravely he struggled to support his family, and when reverses came it was a cruel thing to consign him to the debtors’ prison. It was the work of an enemy. ” “Aye,” cried Nelson, “and for seem ingly so small a sum, too! It is large enough, however, to mother and me who are laboring to pay it off. We buy as little as possible, but the sum in creases but slowly in the ‘debt box, and sometimes I fear the mother will die ere we can set my father free. She pines sadly for him.” “Aye, aye,” sighed the Quaker, “truly we have fallen upon troublesome times, and the hand of the oppressor is heavy in the land! Who would know our peace ful Philadelphia with the red-coats turning everything topsy-turvy! I pray we may soon throw off this British rule! By the way, the Continental Con gress has been considering the question for the past two days, and to-morrow their decision is to be made known. Wilt thee be at the State-House, Nel son Harding, to receive the first news from the door-keeper and give me the signal whether to ring the great bell or no? 1 will pay thee a shilling for the job.” “Gladly will I be on hand, Grandpa Darrah. You think they will really dare to declare our independence?” "Many say not, but I believe they will. There are great and wise men in the Council, and then the motto on the old bell I have rung so many years seems verily prophetic—‘Proclaim lib erty throughout all the land to all the inhabitants thereof.’ The Lord grant it may do it;’’ and the aged Friend's se rene countenance glowed with enthusi asm. “Oh, I hope, I hope it will," responded Nelson; “but now I must away home at once. Good day, grandpa. Come, Penn,” and off he scampered with the huge mastiff at his heels. The little home of the Hardings in Letitia Court was plain and modest in the extreme, and, as the pale, fragile homewife set the frugal dinner on the table. Nelson thought she seemed more downcast than usual. “What is it, mother?” he asked. ‘‘Has any thing gone wrong?” “Nothing new only the landlord has been for the rent, and I have had to draw on the debt-box again, and each time it seems like a step further away from your father. Gh, I wonder if we shall ever, ever accomplish his free dom!” “Os course we shall!” cried Nelson, more hopefully than he felt “Cheer up, mammy! I am growing larger every day. so can soon earn more; and only just now Grandpa Darrah, the bell-man, promised me a shilling if I will wait at the State House door to-morrow and give him the signal if independence be declared." “And if it is, how your poor father will fret and fume at being shut up and unable to fight for his country. He was always such a true patriot!” And the unhappy woman turned away to her sewing with a heavy sign. A lump, too, arose in Nelson's throat, and he ate but a small portion of his savory stew, giv ing the lion's share to Penn, who en joyed it with hearty gusto. As he finished the last morsel Mrs. Nelson looked up. “That dog eats as much as two men,” she said. “But he is such a grand, noble fellow, mother, and 1 love him so.” “So he is, dear, but I wish his appe tite was less:’’ while into Nelson’s mind darted the young Britisher's words: “Such as you have no business with a valuable thoroughbred.’’ Was it true? Ought he to sacrifice his dear companion and playmate for the sake of the father languishing be- neath the shadow of the law? He tried to put the thought away, but the idea haunted him and made him wretched whenever Penn looked up in his face with his soft, brown eyes or licked his cheek with his warm, red tongue, as though to ask; “What ails you, little master?” But when, in the dead of night. Nel son awoke and heard his mother sob bing in the next room and felt sure the four guineas would appear to her like four seven-league strides toward her husband's freedom, he determined that, although he could not put up with Regi nald's overbearing manner, he would go to Captain Cathcart, who, in the phrase ology of that day was said to be a “ge nial, whole-souled Old England man,” and offer him the mastiff on his son’s terms. The next morning, however, he had little time to consider his resolution, for he bad to be off early to the State House, and already the streets were filled with eager, excited groups, while a feeling of hushed expectancy seemed brooding over the quiet city of brother ly love. No fairer day ever dawned than the 4th of July, 1776, while, prompt as Nelson was, the old bellman was before him and ready enough to welcome the ff fr i wr B Jefe! Rwi “THAT dog eats as much as two men.” boy to his little belfry and to point out the Congressmen as they arrived one by one at the State House; for the old Friend's Quaker garb covered a truly patrotic heart, while his genial nature made him a general favorite, and he was dubbed “Grandpa” by half the town. First come Richard Henry Lee, the Virginia member who first brought for ward the resolution to proclaim the American colonies free and independ ent States. Next young Thomas Jeffer son, carrying a roll of manuscript, the draft, no doubt, which he had drawn up of the famous declaration. Then Samuel Adams, the “Father of the Revolution,” in his customary suit of reddish brown; John Hancock, the president of the Congress; Charles Thomson, the secre tary, who held the position for fifteen years, and plain, sensible Benjamin Franklin; while, following in rapid succession came Roger Sherman, Will iam Ellery, Charles Carroll and the rest of the illustrious fifty-six. “A vastly fine, thoughtful set of men, are they not, Nelson Harding?” asked the bellman. “Yes, yes,” cried the boy, flushed by the excitement of the moment; “and I feel sure they will do whatever is best for the country!” and descending he took up his stand close to the State House door and patiently watched and waited, while Chestnut street became one mass of surging humanity and the sultry July sun beat down with unre lenting fervor. Men wearied and wan dered off to the State House Inn or Old London Coffee House; children lifted up their voices and wept, and women faint ed from the heat and were borne off by kindly hands; but still our loyal little Casablanca kept his post, although the hours dragged by on leaden wings, and often from above came down the de spondent tone of the old bell-man, whose hope was beginning to waver, groaning: “Oh, they never will do it! They never will do it!'’ About noon, though, there was a slight interruption, for . a determined four-footed creature came, making its way through the crowd, and with a cry of pleasure Nelson recognized Penn, bearing in his mouth a small basket, in which Mrs. Harding had packed a light lunch for her son. With a joyful bark, the dog discovered his master and laid his burden at his feet, while, as the lad patted his faithful creature's head he moaned: “Oh, Penn, dear Penn, how can I ever bear to part with you! If only there was some other way to help my father!" The bread and fruit, however, soon revived the boy’s flagging spirits, and when Penn trotted off with the empty basket he was once more the loyal young American, who had forgotten his private troubles in suspense for his country’s good; and soon after two o'clock the great doors swung open and the keeper whispered a few words in his ear. Then, with a glad cry and his blue eyes dancing, Nelson bounded out in the street, and clapping his hands shouted: “Ring, Grandpa! Ring!” and instantly the old man seized the rope attached to the ponderous tongue and struck it with all his might against the side of the bell, sending the iron music floating forth on the summer air, joy fully proclaiming, “Liberty throughout all the land, to all the inhabitants thereof.” The debtors heard it in their gloomy cells, and one, at least, longed to be able to join in the struggle that must folio#. Margaret Harding heard it and thought: “Oh, that it would ring free dom for those in the grasp of the law!” And Reginald Cathcart heard it and laughed contemptuously, saying: “Let the high and the mighty Yankees de clare all they like! They will find it another matter to maintain their inde pendence, with their rag-tag army against our King's gallant men!” But what a burst of acclamations went up from thousands of throats, while couriers and post-boys were dis patched in all directions with the glad tidings! Bonfires blazed on every side, cannon roared, and by evening the whole city was one carnival of banquets, gay iliumina tions and mutual congratu lations. Grandfather Darrah was so jubilant that he doubled Nelson's well-earned shilling, and with a fleet foot the boy sped home to throw the silver in his mother's lap; while the happy smile that irradiated her face as she dropped it into the debt-box made his heart leap, and he thought: “If two shillings can make her so glad what would she say to four golden guineas!” Then, while carried away by the spirit of the occasion, he hurried at once into the yard, indulged in a brief moan over his pct, and then bravely fastened a chain about Penn’s neck and started with him for the British barracks, which lay a short distance outside the town. At the entrance, however, of the large, three-story brick building, where the officers had their quarters, he en countered a young lieutenant, in a scarlet uniform, who informed him that Captain Cathcart was particularly en gaged and had given strict orders not to be disturbed. “Then then, may I see Reginald Cathcart?” asked Nelson, bringing out the detested name with an effort. “Yes terday he said he would like to buy my mastiff; and now I am ready to sell him, if he be of the same mind.’’ “As a sacrifice on the altar of Lib erty?” asked the young officer scorn fully, but coming nearer the truth than he imagined. “Well, you can’t do i* to night, for Master Cathcart has gon' into the town. Call in the morning, if you please; but I doubt if after to-day he will want Yankee dogs of any sort." The Englishman’s contemptuous tone and words made Nelson's blood boil; and quickly retorting: “Take care, the Yankee dogs you so despise may yet nip the heels of all redcoats!” he turned and hurried off with a swelling heart, think ing that after all it was too hard lines to have to give up his darling Penn to the enemies of his country; and yet who else did he know- now, in those uncer tain times, who would pay four guineas for the animal that “ate as much as two men!" He scarcely heeded the brilliant fires and decorations in the street, but hastened home, where he was met on the threshold by his mother, her man ner betraying new and strange excite ment. “What is the matter?” he asked, fear ing some fresh misfortune; but for an swer she only flung wide the door of the living-room and he beheld the figure of a man sitting in the soft light of the home-made candle. He looked, and rubbed his eyes and looked again. Could it be? Yes, there was no mis taking the blonde hair and blue orbs’so like his own; and in another moment his father’s hand was on his shoulder and a familiar voice sounded in his ears, saying: “My dear boy, this is a rarely happy night for us, for in honor of this glorious day our wise rulers have opened the debtors’ prison and set all the prisoners free.” [A historical fact.] “Huzza! huzza!” shouted Nelson, tossing up his hat and hugging his fa ther, mother and Penn by turns. “I shall love that old Liberty Bell all my life.” But it w r as not until the trio were gathered about the supper table that Nelson realized the fullness of his hap piness; and then suddenly he threw down the spoon with which he was eat ing pop robins and milk and exclaimed: “Oh, hip, hip, hurray! Now I won't have to sell Penn!” “Sell Penn! What do you mean?” asked his mother; and in a few words he told her of his recent resolution and how it had been frustrated. As he finished tears glistened in Mrs. Hard ing’s eyes, while his father said: “No, my generous boy, there is now no need of the sacrifice, but you and your pet shall stay and guard the mother while Igo to join the Continental army and fight for America and her new-born in dependence.” Agnes Carr Sage, in American Agriculturist. Spontaneous Combustion of Man. Dickens has been very much criti cised for his apparent acceptance of the fact of human spontaneous combustion, but the late Sir William Gull testified to a surprising case before the commit tee of the House of Lords on intemper ance during the summer of 1886. A large, bloated man, who was suffering from difficulty of breathing and great distention of the venous system, died at Guy’s Hospital. At the post-mortem of the following day there was no sign of decomposition, but the body was dis tended with what was thought to be gas. “When punctures were made into the skin,” said Sir William, “and a lighted match applied, the gas which escaped burned with the blue flame of carburetted hydrogen. As many as a dozen of these little flames were burn ing at one time.” —London Court Jour nal. The discovery of gunpowder was made principally in behalf of the Fourth of July. PATIENT LOYALTIES. Beautiful Sacrifice* Constituting a Grand Chapter of Heroism. He must have a very small acquaint ance with men and women who doubts the existence of as general and as noble an illustration of heroism to-day as the world has ever seen. There are few families in any civilized community in which there is not some man or woman whose whole life is one of heroic, al though obscure, sacrifice; the kind of sacrifice which is all the more heroic because it has no other satisfaction than the consciousness of an obligation dis charged and a duty performed. There are no more beautiful exhibitions of the finer qualities of human character than are to be found in these patient loyal ties; these devotions of the household, unsustained by any public recognition, uninspired by the hope of any conspic uous achievement, but none the less faithfully persevered in to the end. Stanley's journey through Equatorial Africa oppresses one’s imagination with a sense of its indescribable toil and hardship, but the great explorer bad the consciousness of doing a piece of work which was not only heroic, but which had world-wide relations and would receive world-wide recognition. There are countless lives which in un broken continuity of toil parallel Stanley’s journey, and yet are un attended by any of the inspiring circumstances which sustained the ex plorer. For a host of people life means little more than unbroken toil and uninterrupted self-sacrifice, and in many of these cases the beauty of the life lies in the fact that the man or woman w'ho is showing this noble strength is unconscious of any special achievement. It is easy enough to face great dangers when they last but a little while, and when their suc cessful endurance means recognition and honor; but the patient loyalties of private life, the self-effacement of women for the sake of those in their own house hold, who often have neither compre hension of the sacrifice made for them nor gratitude for it, involves another and a higher kind of courage. In every situation in life there are men and women who are quietly putting their own interest out of sight in order that some other, less vigorous ‘or less fortu nate, may be sustained and cared for. These beautiful sacrifices, concealed as they are from the world, constitute a chapter of heroism the like of which has never been written by the splendid dar ing of war and exploration.—Christian Union. OUR GOLDEN GIRLS. Over Forty-Four Million American Dollars Captured By Poor Noblemen. The immense sum of #44,175,000 has gone to Europe during the last few years with several American girls as an incumbrance to trade for titles. In the main this dowry of beauty and fortune purchase poor specimens of men. If they were in Chicago they couldn’t earn a living shoveling smoke outof the city. Yet they have what all the world of snobs love —a title. Most of them have vices, and debts, and other things equally as undesirable. But a title covers a multitude of sins. The American girl is a beauty. She is a conversationalist. She has plenty of dash and spirit, and gives those blase noblemen more pleasure in an hour than they ever had in their lives be fore. And she is rich —that is, all who marry noblemen are. So he marries her, goes to Heaven, and gets the earth. Here is a list of them: Lady Vernon Harcourt $ 200,000 Countess Von Linden 1,000.000 Marquise de Mores 5,000,000 Lady Hesketh 2,0)0,000 Mrs. Henry Howard 500,000 Duchess of Marlborough 7,000,000 Lady Wolsey 2,000,000 B ironess Seydlitz 1,500,000 Mrs Arthur Paget 401,000 Mrs. Maule Ramsey 1,000 000 Princess de bcey Monthelliard 2,000,0 0 Mrs. Smith Barry 301,0.0 Mrs. Hughes Hallett 20',000 Duchess de la Rivera 3,000,'00 Lady Vernon 1,000,0 X) Duchess de Glucksberg 2,000 000 Princess Colonna 5,000,000 Duchess de Dino ~,,,, 3,000,000 Mrs Ernest Beckett Denni-on 500,000 Cuiintess de Chabot 201,00*1 Countess de Agreda. 1,000 000 Mrs. William Carrington 200,000 CountesS favorgnan too,ooo Princess do Brancaccio 250,000 Countess dl Culrey 150,000 Mrs. Cavendish Bontinck 1,500,000 Lady Arthur Butler 1,000,000 Mrs. Thomas Charles Baring 500,000 '1 he Baroness de Bremont 75,000 Mrs. Beresford Hope 150,000 Countess Amadel 100.000 Countess d’Aramon ... 150,000 Lady Aylmar 2oo’ooo Mrs. John Adair 300,000 Matchioneaa of Anglesey 200,000 Marchioness Salvaterra 100,000 Total ...$44,175,000 The immensity of this sum that has gone, or is going, from our shores is so huge that it staggers people who have ever considered the subject, and, large though it is, this vast sum does not rep resent the half of the dowries of fair American women who have married for eigners.--Chicago Tribune. —The rate at which this earth is being mappod off and sold in chunks of super ficial Area is something startling. After awhile there will be nothing left but to dig holes in the ground and sell the sides. And there is enough enterprise lying around loose to hit on some way of making the perpendicular surfaces de sirable investments. —Washington Post —lt is an awful drawback to a man in the development of his best ability to have been born the child of a million aire, but most of us would be perfectly willing to have been drawn back just about so far. —Somerville Journal