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f>, THE HEATHER ON THE LEA.
Green are the woods, with their gray moss
* and lichen.
"’fellow are the sands in the sun by tho sea,
Dewy fc the dale with its fresh fern and
sv. bracken,
■j But, oh! for the heather and the whin on
? the lea. • j
Pine cones and leaves strew the mould ’neath
the branches,
Sweet is the smell of the balsam and pine,
Pink the deep flush on the petals of the wind
flower,
Nestling in meshes of tangled woodbine.
Par in the distance the seagulls are circling.
Dipping their wings in the crest of the
wave;
Down in the green depths the seaweeds float
darkling,
The kelp on the black rocks the wild
waters gave.
Down in the dale blue violets are opening.
Where the fresh grass grows green by the
rill,
Cowslips their cups turn toward the light
iaughing
And the white lily floats on the waters so
still.
The bonny purple heather, glinting in the
sunlight,
Prickly gorse and furze, and whin sweet
for bee,
Where the breeze sweeps as free as the cool
air at midnight,
And the lark builds her nest in the heather
on the lea.
—Boston Transcript.
NATHALIE,
I saw her first carrying a great fat
baby, apparently heavier than herself—
a thin, small-faced girl, looking about
ten years old, but, as I afterward found
out, nearly thirteen, I shall always
think Nathalie was stunted by a per
petual baby burden, for her aunt, with
whom she lived, had a frequent addition
to her family, and Nathalie had nursed
babies since she was seven years old.
About that time her mother died, and
the little orphan was thrown upon the
tender mercies of her aunt.
Madame Poircn was stout, red-faced,
loud-voiced, and with one ruling passion,
that all around her should earn their salt
by constant work.
* _ She would have liked to rise at mid
night, and set her household their tasks,
but as that was impossible, she
contented herself with beginning at
dawn.
Her husband was a farmer and miller
near the little town of Mapleton; her
two eldest sons worked in the fields
with the other laborers, and woe to any
of them who did not obey the imperious
dame. She did not spare herself, for
constant employment was her religion;
but she had a frame like iron, and the
strength of a strong man.
As lor Nathalie, had it not been for
the babies she was required to keep out
of the way, she would have been driven
to the grave by tasks impossible for her
puny frame to perform.
As it was, she ate her hurried meals
with the everlasting baby ’ on her lap,
whom she was expected to feed at inter=*i
vals, and attend to the wants of the
twins, about two years old, wdio sat be
side her. She was then driven out, with
the three children, to be kept out of the
way uutil dinner-time.
“Ha, I treat the little one well!” Ma
dame Poiron would say to her gossips.
*'_She is my poor sister’s child, and I have
pity for her. I work myself, I work my
children; but for Nathalie, all she has to
do all day long is to play in the woods
with the little ones. It is play, play all
the time for her, and eat and drink of
the best.”
Madame Poiron believed faithfully
what she said.
.It was during one of these “play”
times that I first made the acquaintance
of Nathalie. I had been walking through
the pretty little woodland which sur
rounded the town of Mapleton, where I
was spending the summer with a friend.
Suddenly I came upon two stout, stolid
looking children, looking more like
Dutch dolls thau anything else. Their
laps were full of flowers, aud in front of
them was lying the baby, crowing and
kicking up its heels.
Nathalie was going through a kind of
acrobatic performance for the amuse
ment of her charges, while the twins
gravely stared at her with their big ex
"JfPSsionress blue eyes. seldom
seen any one so agtit’e and daring as
Nathalie was, ffs she sprang from one
grape vine to another, and danced a kind
-of pas seul on them.
I was hidden behind a clump of
bushes, where the children did not see
me; but I noticed the little girl’s face
was pale, and big drops stood on her fore
head from fatigue. Whenever she stopped
to rest, the Dutch dolls set up a howl.
“Oh, hush, Manette, hush, Marie, or
Tante Poiron will come after us! Then
she will not let U 3 come here any more.
lam going to play again for yqji. Now
look, look, and see me fly!”
She made a spring to a high vine,
which hung far above the one on which
she was sitting, bhe missed it, and fell
to the ground. In a moment I was be
side her, and lifting her up.
“Are you hurt: ’ I asked.
“I don't know,” she said, rubbing her
head. “My head hurts, but it has hurt
me all day. Oh, Bebe, don't cry!” The
baby was yelling at the top of its voice,
and the chorus was swelled by the Dutch
dolls, who were frightened by my sud
den appearance. “Don’t cry, my dar
ling ! Thalie is coming to you.”
bhe rose to her feet, and sank down
again with a sharp cry.
“Ah, my foot is broken! I cannot
walk! What will Tante Poiron say?
What shall I do? Oh, what shall 1
do?”
“You will do nothing but lie here till
I come back,” I said. “It is a short
walk to your aunt’s and I will go and
tell her, so that she can send for you,
Perhaps these children will let me take
them home.” But as I approached the
twins, they threw themselves flat on
their backs, and yelled a> if I had been
the Giant Biunderbore, leady to eat
them up.
“ They don't like strangers!” Nathalie
gasped. “O madam. I must try to
walk .” But as she raised her elf, she
sank back almost fainting with agony.
I walked rapidly to the home, and, as I
neired it. saw Ma larne Poiron in the
front yard, washing some clothes. I
knew her weii by sight, and as I called
her name, she raised her monstrous,
dripping arms from the suds, and turned
to me.
“ What does madame want?” she asked
curtly.
“Your little niece has hurt herself
yonder in the woods. She has either
sprained or broken her ankle. She can.
not walk.”
“Oh, the miserable creature!” cried
the woman. “Forever and forever doing
something wrong! And nothing to do
but amuse herself all day! , Has she hurt
my children?” turning upon me fiercely.
“No, but she is badlyihurt.”
“ Saints be praised itii not my angels!
Nathalie is a stubborn, Ungrateful girl.
And now to lay herself up, and leave me
all to do 1 Pity she hadu’j; broken her
neck at once 1”
“You ought to be ashamed of your
self, Madame Poiron!” I cried, indig
nantly. “If you do not intend sending
help to the poor child, I will do so.”
“ And where does madame think I can
get help? Call the men out of the field
at this hour, and lose so much time? No;
if anyone goes, I mustl”
She strode off, and I followed her, for
somehow the idea of a dove in a vulture’s
claws pursued me when I thought of
poor, trembling little Nathalie borne in
the arms of the unfeeling giantess.
When I reached them, she had the girl
by the arm, and had lifted her to her
feet.
“None of your airs.” she cried. “If
you try to walk, you can. You are pre
tending. Stand up!”
I caught the child as she fell back,
and at that moment I saw a man whom
I knew well coming down the road in
his cart.
“Ah, here is Pisrre Lagrange!” I
cried, joyfully. “I know he will take
the child home.”
Pierre was a good, humane fellow,
more than willing to do a kind act, and
lifted Nathalie into his cart at once.
Madame Poiron, growling like a bear,
had taken herself olf with the baby in
her arms, and the Duldh dolls toddling
after.
“But then this is a bad business for
you, Nathalie,”Pierre said, as he jogged
along. .“That old fire-cat is going to
give you hard times.”
“I never have easy time 3, Monsieur
Pierre,” she answered, with her patient
voice, the tears rolling down her white
face. “I would wish to he dead, and
with mamma, if it was not for the chil
dren, but 1 love them, and they love me.”
“Love you! Just listen to her! The
little vampires that suck her life-blood.
The tyrants that get her more beatings ,
than I can count! And, madarne, you |
hear her say she loves them?”
“Yes, they do love me,” she sighed, j
“Monsieur Pierre, they are all I have in
the world. Tante Poiron is not always
cross. She has good days, you know, i
and is kind, but then, you see, she ha 3
so many children, she has no love to
spare for me.”
“That’s certain and sure,” Pierre
muttered in his heavy beard, but we had
reached the farm-house, and he lifted
Nathalie out tenderly.
“Farewell, madarne, and thank you,”
she said, as he bore her into the house.
I thought often of Nathalie during
the next few weeks. I heard her ankle
was sprained, but that she was doing
well. I did not venture to call, for it
was evident that Madame Poiron had
taken an inveterate dislike to me. But
I was glad to see the little girl walking
out one morning with the baby in her
arms. I hurried forward aud inter
cepted them. Nathalie was thinner
thau ever, but her eyes—lovely eyes
they were—brightened at sight of me.
‘•Are you quite well, I
asked. «
“My foot hurts me a little, madam,
but I can walk. It is the first time I
could carry Bebe—sweet Bebe!” kissing
enthusiastically the pasty-faced infant.
We are going to have a fete woods,
Bebe and I,” showing me a little package
she held in one hand. “There is a slice
of pie and a piice of cake, and ob,
madarne, will you not come to our fe eV'
I said I would, but I must run home
for something. That something was an
addition to the tea-party in the shape
of some fruit I had just received. It
was good to see the delight in Nathalie’s
eyes when I laid my contribution before
her
“Oh. Bebe! Bebe!’' she screamed, clap
ping her hands. “Bananas, Bebe!
Oranges! and lovely white grapes! Oh,
they are too beautiful to eat!”
When the repast was over, Nathalie
wrapped what regained in her apron for
Be'.e and the twins. *■
“You look quite happy, Nathalie,” I
said. ..
“Happy ? ah, yes, madame, there is no
one happier than lam to day. Only
think, I can walk again and nurse Bebe.
I love all children, but. Bebe is a real
angel of heaven”! -i"
I sat there wondering over that starved
young life whose only modicum ot sun
light was putty-faced Bebe. What was
happiness after ail? A poor, ill-treated
■wail', whose daily bread was flavored by
harsh words, sat thare under God s
blessed sunlight and called herself
happy. I gave up the problem.
Several weeks passed, and although I
was often on the watch, 1 saw nothing
of Nathalie. The house where my friend
and t boarded, commanded a full view
or the Poiron farm; for some days none
of the men had been working in the
fields, and the loud voice of Madame
Poiron was silent.
“What is the matter over at Poiron’s?”
I asked our landlady, Mrs. Blake.
Mr 3. Blake turned very red, and looked
confused.
“Well, the truth is, I didn't like to
tell you, ladies, for I thought you might
get scared, ami there ain't a bit of dan
ger, for there's no communication be
tween the farm and any house in town.
They’ve got small-pox bad. Nearly
all the family are down with it. Old
Poiron caught it from a tramp. Two of
the children will die to-night, and they
say tne old rpadame can’t live. There
is no one to attend them but one of the
boys and little Nathalie.”
“She is not sick, then?” I said, re
lieved.
“Nathalie? no. Old Dargan, who has
been there—he’s had small-pox himself
—told Mr. Blake, the child goes from
one to the other, with Bebe in her arms.
Bebe has small-pox, too, and she never
puts it down.”
I cannot express all I felt when the
next day I saw the funerals leave the
cottage—one of the sons and one of the
-mailer children, Mrs. Blake did not
know which. Then a few days after
ward the hearse stopped again, and two
;nm!l white coffins were brought out
They held the poor little Dutch doll*.
• After that I heard of the gradual ro.
covery of the other patients and that
Nathalie did not take the disease.
Nearly a month elapsed, and I was
paring to leave Mapleton when, in one
of my walks, I came suddenly upon
Nathalie leading her aunt by the hand!
“Oh, I’m so glad to see you, madame!”
she cried. “We are takinga little walk,”
Tante Poiron and I. She is getting
quite strong again.”
“I am glad to see you out,” I said.
“I heard how ill you were.”
“Is it the American lady, ’Thalia?”
she asked. “I am blind, madame. I
live, yes; but never to see again!
less, useless! ahl” With a groan she
threw up her gaunt arms, and her face,
torn and ploughed by the dread disease,
was full of despair.
“Oh, hush, Tante!” Nathalie cried.
“Am I not here to h<Alp you and do all
you want?” .
“Yes, it is so,” the woman cried,
quietly. “The one to whom I was cruel
and unkind, God has given me as my
sole stay. I tell her to go and be happy.
She shall have money to live where she
chooses, but she says: 'No! No!’”
“Leave you and Bebe!” Nathalie
cried; “Never! With you is my home
as long as you want me.”
The woman, still weak and nervous,
burst into tears, and her little niece led
her away. My problem was solved.
If Nathalie was happy in loving and
serving a little child, what will be her
degree of felicity to find herself neces
sary to a whole family—her duties mani
fold, but sweetened by the love and
trust for which her faithful little heart
hungered. —Marie B. Williams, in Youth's
Companion.
Thirty Prehistoric Men.
The people of Floyd county, lowa,
have often speculated as to the contents
of a group of forty curious-looking
mounds on the farm of John Scrimger;
but none of them had curiosity enough
to investigate until Professor Webster
took the work in hand on his own ac
count last week. The Srcimger farm lies
just north of the pretty village of Charles
City, and is one of the most beautiful
sections of the State. On the eastern
part of the farm is a long, low ridge, rim
ning directly north and south, on toptif
which are the mounds, some forty in
number, about three feet in height, and
ranging from fifteen to twenty-five feet
in length. Thus far Professor Webster
has opened fourteen of these mounds
and found the skeletons of thirty people,
he thiuks of a different race from any of
the prehistoric remains yet unearthed in
this country. Just how long the ridge
and mounds have been there Mr. Scrim
ger can’t say. Neither can the oldest
settler, and neither can the T’ottawato
mie Indian traditions which run back
many centuries. That both ridge and
mounds were built by human hands is
plain, from the mathematical regularity
with which they are arranged, and the
hardness of the soil composing them,
which i 3 packed firm, like a stone, while
that of the virgin prairie in the neigh
borhood is soft and yielding.
The skeletons found by Professor
Webster are in various stages of preserva
tion, some quite solid and others crumb
ling to dust, while in one mound there
was nothing but a bed of ashes. All the
dead had been found in a doubled up
position, the knees being crowded on the
lower jaw, aud the head of each care
fully laid toward the east. While the
femur bones show that most of the skele
tons are people about five feet seven
inches tall, there are four the original
owners of which must hava been fully
seven inches tall. The skulls are those
of a race of very inferior beings. The
tops are abnormally thicK,and the frontal
bones slope abruptly back from the eyes,
while the lower jaws protrude forward so
that the undtu. teeth come outside of the
tipper ones, win general contour the
skulls resemble those of* the prehistoric
mound builders found in Ohio, Indiana
and Wisconsin. Most of the skeletons
found by Professor Webster show marks
of fire, as if the flesh had been burned
from the bones before burial. Another
strange thing is the entire absence of
anything like trinkets, or implements of
war or of the chase, as are generally
found in Eastern mounds. The bones
of animals, showing that the friends of
the deceased had celebrated their inter
ment with funeral feasts are also missing.
The only things thus far unearthed in
the lowa mounds, aside from the skele
tons, is a lot of broken pottery of crude
design and make, including one nearly
whole vase or urn of archaic workman
ship, which. Professor Webster now has.
—New York Sun,
The Coolest Town in the World.
In Nature , Dr. ITann gives an interest
ing account of the winter temperature of
Werchojansk (Siberia), deduced from
several years’ observation. The town,
which lies in the vailey of the Jana,
about 0 feet above the level of the river,
in latitude 04 degrees 34 minutes N..
longitude 133 degrees 51 minutes E., and
at a height of about 350 feet above the
sea, has the greatest winter cold that is
known to exist upon the globe. Month
ly means of —SB degrees F. occur even
in December, a mean temperature which
has been observed nowhere else in the
polar regions; and minima of —7O de
grees are usual for the three winter
months (December-February), In the
year 1880 March also had a minimum
—77 degrees, and during that year
December and January never had a
minimum above —7O degrees, while in
January, 1885, the temperature of —B9
degrees was recorded. These extreme
readings are hardly credible, yet the
thermometers have been verified at
the St. Petersburg Observatory. To add
to the misery of the inhabitants, at some
seasons the houses are inundated by the
overflow of the river. The yearly range
of cloud is characteristic of the elimale;
in the winter season the mean only
amounts to about three-tenths in each
month.
Bremen’s Roland.
But the quaintest thing in Bremen is
its statue of liberty, the “Roland,” as it
is called. It is a colossal figure, eight
een feet high, and was erected in the
centre of the town in 1412. In one huge
hand the giant holds a shield marked
with an eagle (that symbol of liberty in
all ages), in the other a naked sword. It
was the gauntlet thrown down to all th*
world that Bremen would be free, a free
dom so successfully maintained that
even now, though a part of the German
empire, Bremen is a free city and has i
free port.
TOAD LORE.
SUPERSTITIONS CONCERNING
THIS REPTILE.
I
Given an Odious Reputation in the
Mythology of All Races—Medi
eval Legends—The Mise»
and the Toads.
/
The personal appearance of the toad
is soch as to have gi /en it a bad place in
the mythology of all races, says C. G.
Leland. The Algonkin Indians—who,
like Napoleon and Slawkenbergius, were
great admirers of men with fine bold
noses—after having studied the plane
physiognomy of the toad, decided that
it indicated all the vices, and made of
the creatqre the mother of all the
witches. Nothing could have been
more condemnatory; since in their re
ligion—as in that of the Acadians.Laps
and Eskimos —a dark and horrible sor
cery, in which witches conciliated evil
spirits, was believed to have preceded
their own nobler Shamanism, by which
these enemies of mankind were forced
or conquered by magic. Once the Great
Toad had, as she thought, succeeded in
organizing a conspiracy by which Gloos
kap, the Shamanic god of Nature, was to
be destroyed. Then he passed his hand
over her face and that of her fellow con
spirator, the Porcupine; and from that
time forth their noses were flat, to the
great scorn of all honest, well-beaked
Indians.
The old Persians made the toad the
symbol and pet of Ahriman, the foe of
light, and declared that his Charf ester ,
or attendant demons, took that form
when they persecuted Ormuzd. Among
the Tyrolese it is a type of envy; whence
the proverb, “Envious as a toad.” In
the middlo age 3, among artists and in
many church legends, it appears as greed
or avarice; there is even to this day, in
some mysterious place on the right bank
of the hhine between I.aufenberg and
Binzgau, a pile of coals on which sits a
toad. That is to say, coals they seem to
the world. But the pile is all pure gold,
and the toad guards it; and he who
knows how can pronounce a spell which
shall ban the grim guardian. And there
is a story told by Menzel that long ago
there lived in Cologne a wicked miser,
who when old repented aud wished to
leave his money to the poor. But when
he opened his great iron chest he found
that every coin in it had turned to a
horrible toad with sharp teeth. This
story being told to his confessor, the
priest saw in it divine retribution, and
told him that God would have none of
his money—nay, that it would go hard
with him to save his soul. And he. being
willing to do anything to be free of sin,
was locked up in the chest with the
toads; and lo: the next day when it
was opened the creatures had eaten him
up. Only his clean-picked bones re
mained.
But in the Tyrol it is believed that the
toads are themselves poor sinners,under
going penance for deeds done in human
form. Therefore they are regarded with
pity and sympathy by all. The geneaal
belief is that toads are, for the most part,
people who made vows to go on pil
grimages, and died with the vows un
fulfilled. So the poor creatures go liop
jfing astray, bewildered and perplexed,
striving to find ,their way to shrines
which have perchance long since ceased
to exist. Once there was a toad who
took seven years to go from Leilers to
Weissenstein; and when the creature
reached the church it suddenly changed
to a resplendent white dove, which.flyiiig
up to heaven, vanished before the eyes of
a large company there assembled, who
bore witness to the miracle. And one
day as a wagoner was going from Inns
bruck to Seefeld, as he paused by the
wayside, a toad came hopping up and
seemed to be desirous of getting into
the wagon; which he, being a benevo
lent man, helped it to do, and gave it a
place on the seat beside him. There it
sat like any other respectable passenger
until they came to the side path which
leads to the church of when,
wonderful to relate, the toa 1 suddenly
turned to a maiden of angelic beauty,
clad in white, who, thanking the
wagoner for his kindness to her when
she was but a poor reptile, told him she
had once been ayo ng lady who had
vowed a pilgrimage to the church of See
feld. But as heedless maids often do,
she had put it off from time to time till
she died. But row, by his help, her
soul was saved. And, saying this, she
too winged her way “to the joyous
realm where the pure dwellers are.” j
In common with the frog, the toad is
an emblem of productiveness, and ranks j
among creatures which are types of erotic
passion. I have in my possession a
necklace of rudely made silver toads of j
Arab workmanship, intended to be worn
bv women who wish to become mothers.
Therefore, the c reature, in the old world
as well as in the new. appears a 3 a being
earnestly seeking the companionship ot
men. Thus it happened to a youth of
Aramsgch, near Kattenberg, that, being
one day in a lonely place by a lake, there
looked up at him from the water a being
somewhat like a maid but more like a
hideous toad, with whom he entered into
conversation; which be ame at last
friendly and agreeable, for the strange
creature talked exceedingly well. Then
she, thinking he might be hungry, asked
him if he would lain have anything in
particular to eat. He mentioned in jest
a kind of cakes; whereupon diving into
the lake she brought some up, which he
ate. So he met "her many times; and
whenever he wished *for anything, no
matter wliat, she got it for him from the
waters; the end of it all being that, de
spite her appalling ugliness, die youth
fell in love with her and offered manage,
to which she joyfully consented. But
no sooner had the ceremony been per
formed than she changed to a lady of
wonderful beauty; and, taking him by
the hand, she conducted him to the lake,
into which she led him, and “in this life
they were seen nevermore.” This legend
evidently properly belongs to frog lore,
j According to one version, the toad after
marriage goes to a lake, washes away her
\ ugliness, and returns as a beauty with
the bridegroom to his castle, where they
live in perfect happiness.
The sum of $lOO was deposited in a
Hartford, fonn., bank in 1824, and
never drawn out while the person who
j placed it there has been dead for several
j years. The heirs to the money, who only
, recently learned of its existence, ■will
receive beside the principal over $2500,
representing the accrued interest.
. Eccentric Russian Czars.
T aul, thc*m id Russian Czar.’ had ror
bidden round bats, which he regarded
as a sign of liberalism, says Prince
Czartorvki’s memoirs. If a ; or man.
with an old, round hat on his head*
showed himself in the ciowd which
witnessed the parade, an aide-de camp
immediately pursued the culprit, who
lied to avoid being bastinadoed at the
first guardhouse. The chase wa; often
continued in the streets, to the great
amusement of the people, who hoped
the unhappy man would succeed in mak
ing bis escape. Lord Wh tworth the
British Embassador, was obliged to have
a hat of peculiar shape made tor him, so
as to be able to walk about in the morn
mg without contravening the Emperor’s
orders. Paul drove through the town
daily in a sledge or an open carriage, ac
companied by one of his aides-ae camp.
When he met a carriage it stopped, thq
coachman and footman had to take off
their caps, and the persons in the
carriage had to alight and make
a profound bow to the Emperor,
who _ observed whether it ‘ was
sufficiently respectful. Sometimes wo
men with their children trembling with
fright, were seen descending into the
snow in a hard frost, or into the mud
during a thaw, to accomplish this salu
tation. Paul always thought that people
wished to slight him as they did when
he was Grand Duke; he liked every
where to meet with marks of fear and
submission. When people went out into
the streets in carriages or on foot, all
took care to avoid meeting their Impe
rial master; they fled at his approach
and went down a side street or hid under
a gateway. Another dangerous person
to meet was the terrible Archaroff, Grand
Master of Police, who also drove
through the town to see that
everything was being done according
to liis orders. lie prohibited rapid
driving in sledges, which is one of the
greatest pleasures of a Russian; and
when he perceived a sledge which
seemed to go at a forbidden pace he
ordered it to be seized, had the coach
man flogged, and then appropriated both
sledge and coachman to his own use for
any period he pleased, while the oc
cupant of the sledge had to walk home.
This once happened to my brother. He
had driven out in a sledge and met the
Emperor, upon which he at once jumped
to the ground. As he passed, Paul cried
out to him: “You might have broken
your neck.” On his return M. Archaroff
sent by the Emperor’s orders for my
brother’s horses and his sledge and used
them for a week, after which he re
turned them.
Five-Cent Meals in Chicago.
Five-cent meals have been often
dreamed of, but one that could be eaten
has never been known, in this country at
least. Everybody knows that there is
enough good meat wasted in Chicago
every year to feed all the people that so
often go hungry, but the trouble is to use
it. When the Chicago Herald called
attention to the high prices prevailing
the butchers at once replied that the
trouble was everybody wanted porter
house steaks, and none would use the
other pieces that were perfectly good,but
not so easily cooked. But 11. M. Kinsley,
the restaurant mao, thinks he sees a way
in which he can benefit himself and some
poor people at the same time. Such beef
as he uses in his restaurant costs twenty
two cents a pound. An entire carcass
costs eight and a half cents a pound all
through. Buying by the carcass instead
of by the loin he figures . lhat
be can save the steaks and roasts for the
restaurants, and then, with good cook
ing, make the rest of the meat palatable,
and thus sell wholesome food to the poor
at a nominal cost. His scheme is to es
tablish a large kitchen in the poorest
district of the city, and lie says he can
furnish good soup and bread enough for
four for twenty cents, and can feed a
family of six for half a dollar. Nothing
but the best material is to be used,
nothing that is left over from other
meals, nut simply the me,it that is not
served in the restaurant. “The scheme
is not a charitable one,” said Mr. Kinsley,
“it is wholly and purely a business pro
position, but if at the same timq I can
furnish good, cheap food to poor people,
food that is fit for their children to eat,
such as much that they now use is not, I
think I will be doing a good thing at the
same time. Such a place I will have
running by winter.”
Bivouac of the Unknown Dead.
One of the most touching features of
the Arlington Cemetery, at Washington,
perhaps the most touching, is the monu
ment to the “Unknown Dead.” It is
only a few steps from the site selected
for Sheridan’s tomb, and around it lie
over two thousand soldiers who were
unidentified and who were only “un
known dead.” It is a sad and startling
fact that of the more than a quarter of a
million dead who sleep in the national
cemeteries of the country almost one half
are “unknown.” There are eighty-two
national cemeteries scattered through
the country. In these rest 334,000 dead
soldiers. Of these 384,000 graves, 118,-
000 bear the sad words “unknown.”
This is especially true of those in the cx
treme Southern States. In Mississippi,
for instance, there are buried over 25, i
000, and of this number less than 5000
are identified. Another curious fact:
Did it ever occur to you that men who
gave their lives to prevent certain States
from seceding now sleep in the soil of
those States t Anyway, it is a fact.
There a r e in Virginia 17 national ceme
teries, which contain almost 75,000 dead,
of whom over one-half are unknown. Of
the 82 national cemeteries of the country
three-fourths are in the States which
were in sympathy with the Confederacy,
and of the 324.000 dead who lie in
national cemeteries about 300,000 lie in
Southern soil. —Milwaukee Sentinel.
Origin of Sub-Rosa.
Most curious of all the sights in
Bremen, is a cask 200 years old called
“the Rose,” because it stands under a
large painted rose. It is said this is tha
spot where the old burgher councillors
held their most secret meetings, the pro
ceedings of which were never divulged;
hence, perhaps, the saying, “under the
rose.” It must be confessed they chose
a fine, dark, damp hole for their de
liberations, and fully deserved the rheu
mati-m that without doubt they caught,
though the contents of “the rose” were
dulv and frequently called into requisi
tion, you may be quite sure.— Com
mercial Advertiser.
T EC E
PEOPLE’S PARTY.
PROTECTIVE,
PROGRESSIVE,
FRO S P t BO I! Si
SUE FUTFOEI:
We Pledge Ourselves in Favor of
PROTECTION
OF OUR CUSTOMERS
t
From Overcharge and
Misrepresentations.
i
FREE TRADE'
FOR EVERY ONE,
With the Merchant who
does most for his
Customers.
PROHIBITION
Of Monopolistic Rings,
Inflated values and op
pressive high prices.
Buy as you vote, intelligently. As candi
dates for your patronage, we invite
an examination of our business
record in support of our
claim for fair dealing.
W e promise for
the future
Tbe Best in Quality,
The Most in Quantity,
And the Lowest Prices
TO ALL CUSTOMERS, without dis
tinction of age or class, and behind
our promise stands our enor
mous stock of
BARGAINS,
which are being crowded upon us by our
MEW YORK BUYER.
Never have we been in condition to oiler
our patrons such advantages as
at this time. Our
MILLINERY DEPARTMENT
has no equal. Our Stock the Largest,
Assortment the Best, and Prices the
Lowest. Our stock of
DRESS ROODS
Below the Lowest. Our
Fancy Goods Department
will save you a handsome profit.
STAPLE GOODS DEPARTMENT
stands at the head for a money saver to
our customers.
OUR SEWING MACHIBE DEPARTHEHT
includes all the
LEADING MACHINES
IN THE COUNTRY.
Starting in price at $5 and up.
In this department we
Buy, SeH, Exchangeand
Repair
ANY AND ALL KINDS.
Remember that FOUR DAYS in each
week wc give away different articles to
our customers. Some days we give to
every 10th purchaser and some days to
every sth, and some days to all.
Our patrons are well aware that we
give
BETTER VALUE FOR
THE MONEY,
Than any other house in
CIATTAIMSA!
Come along, and we will
PROVE TO YOU
That you can Save money by making
your Purchases of us.
H. H. SOUDER-