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Lwly 1 Th* I >y «!»>»<■ > < bto-kl W»tab*. bu< u«t.-<<« ii XX* 4b waudw nig «ye* ‘‘l’ ° n '/ The too lou 1 ticking <»f H- HtarVi at an < !.•• I ku<* < t And w.d <•) • J, j d“. hi* mother grc U, Whom at U*c o|*>n <k*>r b" in lie t brows him Hf mt > !.*•» until, And U» In her all bl* va ■ i ■ alarm*, With ‘ (Ju! I wv <o lo r ly The dreary m >rmng l>r •«k< again. An I with it r ok • a birr- |»d i. That Lngm tug * r*|* dull** I only; The wife, li-«r» !••*-* with U*o ‘X*. lie u ’laiil lilt* Ik r li-avy bwl, H«*w the new d iy l(»>k coldly in Wb le »hu .U jQ irn« y inii»t begin; Mu t |*u»4 tbe bojw «•** round, For many a year all joj k" found. Her life ia fad* m> lon dv The <4 I man Iran l * upon bi* c me, And hr* II <■ go by ngun, Now trembling, wul and lonely; H m ►lr.itgUi la Kpoit. lih rye* are dim And rot a '»ui In cam for him jb left of uh hi« kith and kin. There in no dour wiil t iko him H, \\ by du! h » loy h'l leave him *u< Ai.d blv <i. 1 v» ifu lasfot •• him g-d He kft nlme* Lo <ml>. Idle child, the tvif • the |*»or old man, Mum! find t w <• unfo.'i a- *.h y can. Nc.v b<qx‘ ui iiM'ino' y * n. Can tbMwcoi* <• >■' <L di 0 -*:jny A th n ' <>f worn out g.armonta t *•. AfTr<*u> net ’ tom and p-n . the near Al !n*t i i* •ik-i’o to ib * nart, And a.I t * • uni*♦•!*'• tuiii' More ein;» Ji - -Ji I ii«o' .»•! ; *. 11l ♦ h‘T” k » iom<s h ud, if lif< mu- be whit we U»u'’'i an I what wn seo Aii't oi'‘ a jid lowering only. / 'b pih.H d Miilig un I' fU.’i And I »Vi* .• . r Ji'i Ih• in »■»*• *ry. If help divm • 1.1 »* •• human pain And traunamt to-* j < n J gain. Iniba jniith HO i if (io-ldriw near And 1.1 tb’drt. k n u r appear, Ah. Hi m, w 1.0 n »I i».« lonely? /> ff i: C ■’ » - »n lude t uden 9 , KIDNAPPID. There wiu. . ..t'.uni; n w in the plot of the <J •!> i.i ■■ v.lli n- .1 ■ <>U (litt<> < x tort m Miry fmtn Mr I! «» by utmlii..; lint Hon t'h ul v. 'I ' ki4n:i..phi;;of children f. r the nA' o. gun i venge l.a< bren pructiH. I for Luridr.'.U of y >o. 'l’uc.r arc doubtlc . I >-.lay in tl.i. < iiuliy a score or m u < .j..i i-v It m. i L .io.r, but | in th” |. ii ' nt< »rc not >ii h and promi nent, mi I th ■ h :i,i'h no! aid d by Ifgis hilii > null hi .ml th un led pri they , are .dolu he u j <>. by I >• ■!■ .t publie. The ci ■ ol Willie A' bri 'ht, an E vr lish hid, ivai lull of ;t.aiig : a iveutur. s. lie hv 1 at h a lib Id with hot parent* until live year* of age. Illa father won employed iii n great fair- , tory there and hi* mother wn* a lire*'.- , maker foi ih<» ne lib ilnaid. They lived in a cottage in the suburbs of, the town, mid nl the llgo of lour the boy w.c p inulled to inn about the i nelghborliood i goo.l de il. A' five, 1 when Ini was kidnappe 1, he was sei.l to tho stores I i make purchase*, and knew ' all tho utruajs clear to the I u tory in wli.eli hi lather w rkud. Oi” day tn about 2 u’eloek in the aftcrimon, he Wil. neat t i a store three block < away' after mnne but t mi*. B for** he reached it a strange u .m accosted him ami usked iinniiiiv. He then pave Willie ome swi etaic it > tnd nsko 1 him to go un i look at a I'iiticli and Judy sin w tn tho town, promising to return with him m a half hour. The boy eagerly set oil with him, and w.i> taken to the railroad depot and placed on a trim in charge of a middle aged woman, win gave him more sw eet mint* and was very kindly spoken. She said the show had maved nwiiy and they were going niter it, imd the novelty ol tile child's position prevented him feeling liny anxiety, When the detectives came to take the case up. as they did two days niter tho boy's di* ippcarunee, they gut Ito clew whatever. Although he had walked a uulu or two hind in hand with the abductor along crowd d streets, nobody remem bered see ng the plil. They had gone I openly to tin railroad station, but no ! one tlkiu hI I noticed till til. l it' guard <>U the train dimly r< membered aw-mar U. Its ikl iii n i impartment. but could gh en i disc-ip' o r A* th ■ Allbri t* were poor and lowly, no great stir was cteated, and no gr. .it ell >rt was made by i the detective ,to restore the I y to his parents. • Tile boy w a taken from Shelli dd to l. vcrpiol. being * ' well treated on th - thalli- had no thought of hi* home. At l.tvrrp '>i 11 ' Wa* told that ins n line wa* J diii Manton, and that tho woman was lus m.uiior. \\ ■ aI- disputed the point he wa. sou dly whipped. H hair wu* cut dose, his ,l r s< entirely changed, ir-id a liquid was rubbed on hi* Ml.in wlii. itum I it d irk. Except when he a: k.d to go bom -. er der.-ed that Id* > one w i- John M .at. n, he un kindly treated, ami alter lie hail been beaten even oi eight tin -s he a. -pted the new nan. . n . i-easinl tu refer to lr parents. \\ un.; as he was tlii* wa* a ttivko of policy oi In* part, il ■ real ited that he l a 1 b en stub n from hom -, and he k >pt r •;> ■it n , to limn If the hi* true tiam ■v as Willie Allbrig!.t, and that ho lived at S ; t.i Id. After u couple of weeks' leasens in tumbling *ud tighl-ivp- walking were given to the boy. li. win nev.r per mitted to go out alone or to converse with atra igcr*, and it »ex>n came natural for him to call the woman mother. 1 ! tL» < ura! of a ermp'o < i 1. <! .-n the I I • act i <-ned « dfcaui to him. nnd bo | | would ha e forgotten nil -;b >•>’ it liwi Im . not kept rep atiiig to himself. “I am i not J Jinny Alantou, out Udliu AU i bright, and they stole m>- nv <y from ! Id ” lie wa* in Liverpool six wok* liefore h<> knew th” n rno of th'.- < ty. Whi n li<- had lic'-n taught li >w tu dni.ee, sing, tumbl”, and walk i tight rope n inatler of thr<-‘: month*’ tim he wa* taken around the country with n •mill show, which the woman ow ned in part. The novelty of travel wa* so agreeable that In- almost forgot liis situa tion, and wu, for two or three y* ir* quite content Tiiere was no one to teach him how to read or write, but he wm quick wilted, and could reason be yond hi, year*. 11” had hope* that the -bow would soul” day retch Sheffield, 1 and h” would slip ir.it and run home,but the people o. i-.iirw carefully avoided the place. Ome, when they were show ing at Ooiica tir, a few miles away, Willie observed a mini, who.e fuco had a familiar look, gazing nt him in an earnest manner, ami pi.-scutly heard him say to a friend: “The la I l.i- K -p< m - thinking of the child wiio wa* stol n away from neigh bor Ahbri lit; but of course it <■ m’t b the one.” The boy w: nbo-.it to call out tiiat hit name was , lie Allbright, when tIK woman, who ulw ly- kept an < ngl” <ye on him, ' uno closer, and intimidated him. Tin- show tie i hurriedly packed Up and I It th” place. The boy now rraliz. d moi” fully th in ever that hit right name was Allbright, mi l that lie hud been stok-n from hom -. but lie als' real z d his liopcleshnos*. Ho had been told that if li- ever tried to run away , wild animul- would pursue and devour him, nnd h ■ wa* in mortal terror of a bulldog which followed the show. ll' tl.err-li re humbly obeyed nil orders, ami m ulo no move to rim away. II” was nbi,ul eight ynu old wlrri he elm ng <* I m.'i-t r-, being sold for a good roun I price to n mini who culled himself l‘r f. Williumo Tins man was a ventriloipiist mid juggler, mid he took the boy to A tr.Ci i w ith him, mid gavo ball p< r- : I'.r.nan ■* lorn year or so. They then I returned, mid made the tour of Scotland and In land, and sailed for America. ; Allbright wa* about i-lev n year- old I w.:<-ii he landed in New York. Tho . I I’r dessor then took the name of La . I*u rre, though h - wa* no Frenchman . ■ in look or speech, and travelled for It j i yi-iir. Cm; day ns they wero lid 1 .■; a date a! Cedar llipids, lowa, the buy Was Si nt to tin- posti Hire with let- 1 lei-. , and n curious thing happened. One 1 , of th” lour boys who imd witnessed the l performs: e ■ the night previous made up i lo him in a friendly way, and itske 1 id* : 1 name. ■ Johnny .M.niton," was the reply. ‘ Yes, but that is your stage n unc. ' What is tile other!" “\\ illic Albright." “Tlint's funny. A family named All bright live next door to us. Titov lived * | in England. "S' did I." “M lybe you uro re'ateil. I’m going to full c'ui about you.' I 'wo hour* hit T n man ami his wife called at the hotel .-mil asked for the boy, and the mother had no sooner set eyes on him thm site hugged him to her hour:. , I'. u father wa* longer making up his m al, but he soon came to feel certain tint John Minton was Willie Allbright nnd the boy who li.ul be n stolen from him seven or eight years b fore. The parents had been in A in-rii i three years, and had long before given up all hopes of ever hearing from tho child. The pro bs r m ule i great kick, n* his bread and butter were at stake, but when he foim I tlio people determined to have justice dem- he slipped away >n tho night ind was heard if no marc.—, Hiding Treasure tn M -\ co. Tiu m i whirls of n storm-wiul indi cate placer gold or buried money. Bur ied treasures i.m also be located 1 v Wat. hi g the Ill'ivem ntsof the cvh. , C . ' cr little gr< u - 1-ikes that love to draw the::- coll* near such spots. Y< tis that i out. n were- infallible it would indeed keep the * i.-ikes bu-y coiling. Th-- i. I city id banking fa ilitics, tin- fri .pi-iicy ,of ivvo'.ut; 'ii* :v 4 forced “loans,' has' .m Mothe: I'. rth the favorite sav.ngs ] l-v.ik of our next neighbor*, and th” | bin.i .a . or r.- tii-r< etiou of .* little he..rd lis iv illy a matter of 1.-iily occurrence. ’ i “\\ in hav yu be. , ar., go li-hing or hunting? ’the stranger may ask an i early i s. r. nad as like y ar u>t get a i j frank, th gh ratio i u:'exp-.vte I, answer: “No, s. tor, be- a burying a bit ol 1 ! money" burying it iu away, too, that ■ J nothing sb. rt of supernatural s n is apt i| to betr.-iy its !:i ling-place. With a stick I an I a digging tool somewhat resembling • a “ft over spsde" or mason's trowel, the ' depositor w.ll steal forth in the sileucr oi a moonlit n ght mid b.dli • esp on i_p ■| by cn-ssing i few open tie.ds, wh. r - ua ■’ I desired fol'oAer* would have to drop 1 their cloak of darkness. After selecting a suitable sp.-t and eff cling his deposit, 1 the night-walker will take care to Unger near several n ighboriug rocks, tre- - or ■ gil lies as an additional safeguard ag-<*.isi ' hidden spies, .ns well as in order to clincl I his to|xigr»phical data by priv. to Way ■' marks. — L. I IN TYLER'S TIME. I i Int -r ting Talk of a Former Preatdont’a Son. E-.iuui s.'D'e* of Senator Tom Brnton au 1 John Rtul iph till" of tin most int< rusting of the old ime talker* nt Wnshington, writes the C <-V”!:i-;d b'uiri- < irrespondent, i* Gen. J :ei Ty -i, t.u- son of the President, tin. Tyltl s.iy* hi - fnth- r <l.d net at nil Ilk- T >m Bmton, mid that lie con»:<lered him 1 both tre.ieher >u* and dishonest. “When Benton’s ’Thiriy Year-' View’ was first pu'ilidicd," my* G -n. Tyler, “Julgc li dibiirt ■ i nsk i my father if he Im I read t. My father replied: ‘I have not, sir, and it is a matter of the utmost indiflcr- to in- what B -nton say* about my self or about my administrotion.’ Judge 1 f.diburlon said : 'Bn you ought to read the book, I*.' side.it Tyler.’ ’1 don't erre to read it.' wn* my father’s rep’v. “’Ni-V'-rthele**,'said Judge H ilibur ton, 'I will bring the b >ok to y ur room, the a < ond volume, which relate* to yi ur a iministration, and lay it on your desk. If y.u want to nil it you can; if not, you can leave it id >ne.’ “He did *". My father picked up the I. ami, pitting one Huger on th” leaf i.h'i - Bmton began to write of the I’yler A in. o-trati i.i, lie turned over li d nf.'e: leaf until hi came to the point v. <-i tin i iministratim of Polk began, lb- then picked up the book, keeping in- f ICT- at the beginning and end of the purl ■ reinting to him. He thus car rie l the boo < ;o Judge 11 diburt >:>, not having read a line of it, an I and, ‘I iii»l, Judge, tha! B citou told the history of live Administrations in this volume, an I that ii ■ has d> voted, more than half of iii space to mine. It is enough for me to know that lie appreciated the im portance of it, and I do not care to read wh:r. he thinks about it.’ With tirat he gave tlie book to II diburton. If you ! w. look at B i,t in's ‘Thirty Years’ . View' you will find that its second ; volume <le::ls w ith the Ailininistr.ition* j from Martin \ n Baren to Pierce, and it , contains7- 1 : page-; -p’9 of these pages l are div.tcd to th: Adm.uistratiou of I President T_. b r.” <1 n. T.li-i-well remember John Ilin | dolpb. \\ i:< n lie was a boy his father | iti'.ik him to a V.rginia convention in , Iwh> li Jolin Kimlolph was sitting. He ' r.-ini'inbcis him as a tall, tain, gray ' hruivd man with a shrill voice. He i tells nn an interesting reminiscence of I I I; - l-.tli'-r with Randolph when Rin ! dolpli was in Congn-ss and was living at <i ”i ' wn. Slid he: “John Rm | doijih had had a discussion with a man ‘ I mimed Sai-lTi-y, who was one of hi* col- . j lengii ami who l:a I been a shoemaker j I in early life. -il.-y had made a speech 1 I wliica ex I R mdolpli's jealousy, ami | ; Randolph, in replying to him, said that I I Sln lTi y v.-is mil of his sphere, mid by tho ■ ' -”.iv of .a.'ration told the story ol the sculpt”" i’ai lias. ‘Th * sculptor,’ said !11 imlolpl.. ‘had made a noted figure, i i .-mil, having plneed it on tiro sidewalk, ) si cii'.' 1 a hiding plac ■ near by, where, I I unob-eri 1, he might hear th " criticisms ■ lof Ilins ■ who p issed upon his statue. | \ Amo , • those who examined the marble was a • ..or.aai, r, ami this man . >•: ti■ i-e I the sandals and muttered iv. r to himself a* to where they Iw re wrong. Alter ho had gone away, Phidias came forth nnd ex- ' ■ imim .I th- point* that th-a shoemaker I had objected to ami found that his criti- ; ci-m was c.are, t. lie removed the statue o his studio and r -medied the defects, rhe next day Phidias again placed it . upon lli: -trei't and tin- shoemaker t’gaiu stopped b lon- it. II iw at once that the defee:-, ho had noticed had been rem. >b -d and In- now began to criticise very h ibshly other points about the i statu . I’. idins listened to him for a ‘ tim . and then cante forth with a Latin ! | phrase wh.. h means, “Lit the shoe-i n-.aki r : kto liis last.” And so, enn < li. i-.. 1. aidolph, ‘I -ay in regard to my ! colleagi: ■.’ I “ I !;c laugh was then up n Sheffev, wi . !:■ r. span arose and made such a 1 scathing speech against R tiidoipii that it li in really sick, lie went to his h its ■ i : il. orgetown and sent h s negro, J. 1. rmt lather. When father ar , iit 4 h.-toii.i I M . Rmd Iph in bed, rid was t. 1 wilh, ia f..i::t, shrill tones, ‘lnmdyin -, Mr. Tyler, dying. 1 shall nut outlive tie- night, and l-.ave sent for you to have yau to take eharg ■ of mv funeral. 1 am not poor, and I don’t want Congress to bury me like they did “B an Blank,’’ m 'itlionitig the name of a very fasti li.eis Cougrcssman who had I been burled ..; the expense of tho gov- ' ernment. “Fathi r told him that he did not think he would die, and after a little talk got his mind away from hi- grievant s. His int.-lleet began to piny, ‘and in a short time,’ said my fatlur, in talking to me of it. ‘the whole room s emed to be spark- I ling with intellectual jewels.' In a short ■ time Randolph broke entirely away from his despenJeticy,ordered himself dressed, . and iu u moment later jumped upon his : lr. rse raid galloped to the capitol. With I whip in hand and spur* on Lis boots he tutored the House, strode down tho aisle and bggan to s- eak. He gnvo ShetTey a terrible going over and made one of t-:c ablest speeches of his life. - ' G neral Fremant’s I)illy L The Washington Star tell* how Gen. J ..a C. Freuiout'* forthe-iiiuii • memoir r wrilt-n: Tlie Freiuoi.ts live in a com a ■> lions hou-c that ov rlooks the w«-od a grounds of the British L igation, t a ti - * of Ninet-entii street, and th< slimbb ry of Dupont Ciicle. Ti.e family at present here consist* of the G u ml and .Mrs. Frciuont ami their daughter. The two son* are married. One is in the navy, tic: other live* in Montana. Tue work-room i* on the second floor of tlie house. The handsome bed-room furniture of tlie apartment was removed to give place to the ne essary working outfit. There is a bay window in tlie cast end of the room, on the right of which i* placed the General’s table, sur mounted by a tall set of pigeonholes, win-re letters, notes, and papers are kept, On the other side of the window it placed Mr*. Fremont’s table, a large pl iin affair, covered witli green leather. Tin- General dictates, ami Mrs. Fremont writes down cadi word of tlie story as it falls from his lip*. The family group is, liov. i ver, not yet complete. In tlie al cove is placed a type-writer, and with it Mi-.s Fremont transforms her mother’* manmer pt into neat, legible print. H< re they ail work t igetiier, as happy a nced be, all liny iong. Tin. rule of tlie house is to rise at 7, take a cup of tea and a roll, and begin work at 8 and con tinue until 12, win n breakfast is taken. At I o’clock they resume work and forge ahead until li, when the stop for the day and for dinner is made. In the evening tii> copy is sent out. and in tlie morning other proof--lieets are received from tlie printer. General Fremont is now 74 years old, but looks scarce 60. His hair, short beard and moustache are white, but hi.* brown eyes ar as clear and bright as stars, and his complexion lias the ruddy, healthy glow of happy childhood. His height is medium and his slight figure is comfortably rounded. II imes in Georgia Pine Forests. Ti.e log houses are generally built of the sapling pines. They are long and -traight. a i l when peeled carefully are of snowy whitcnc c . I noticed one old building that has stood the test of hail a century, ami it seem* to be all right yet. Tins house is a fair sample of all the- others of that day’ and time. It was built of logs, notched on to each othei nt the cornels, the whole structure rest ing on two light woo l -ids that lay on the ground. The roof was made ol rough clapboards, riven out of bent pine, ami tlie cracks and gables are ceiled with long strips drawn sm >othly and nailed neatly on. Tile floor was of hard red day, beaten into mortar, mid then nut down mid packed until hard and smooth. Apertures were cut for the two doors, and the shutters were made of riven boards. Tlie chimney wa* made of a layer of solid pine sticks, peened all round, then a layer of red clay mortar, another of sticks and so on to the top. House ami chimney are still standing, although a whole f amily of children have been born, giew up and married, and none but the aged pair who came there in tlie ll.:-h mid heydev of youth are left to be:.r w.tnes . There is a some thing about tlu - ■ pine trees that is won derfully fascinating to me. I look up at their tall, trim, soldierly bodies and try to imagine how many lifetimes old they arc. The dust of many generations ol men mn. t mingle mound their strong roots. Cull'd they Lu’, tell of the scenes they have witness d! Ah! they do speak, if you will but bend your ear to to watch their low, soft whisper*, ns I have done r > many, many times. They have taught me tilings deeper than tlie love of tlie woods, and in my thoughtful moods I have found tlie sweetest enjoy ment in the lenely companionship of tbeir brooding silence. Atiinta {Ga.‘ Cvnltitution. Cun be Vouched Fur. While mi old g--:.tieman named Wal deck was fishing aliout a mile from War saw, Missouri, on the Osag? river, he saw an immense snake sunning itself be hind a log. The snake was one of the horned kind, such as had never been • 1 seen ia that locality before. It was I some fifteen feet long, and as it showed . signs of anger, Mr. Waldeck thought it I time to !>-■ old. In his haste Mr. Wai- I die. k cropped his -i- ■ : 1 s, and, reach- . I in" down to pick them up, saw the snake in pursuit of him and approaching rapidly. Mr. Wald -ck left his glasses and made haste toward Warsaw, where he reported the facts. A party of citi zens started out to kill or capture the i snake, and upon reaching the spot were ; I very much surprised to see the snake I ' wearing Mr. Waldeck’s spectacles nnd I reading the snake stori s in the GMk- , Di’acx'rat. nt which he was laughing heart.ly. This is a true st ry, ami can be vouched for by a number of Benton county politicians. — Lum G.obt- | Democrat. Fend of Coffee. “You seem to like coffee,” remarked the landlady, as Gilhooly pa-sed his cup for the fifth time. ‘•Ye*, mum, if I didn t 1 kc edr.-o I wouldn't drink so much warm wat r try ing to get a little.” Tae look the landlady cast t Gilhooly will haunt him iu his grave. Tciat Sijt i lays. Sew Fork’s Flower Mar’. In a large, nearly square room, m -a old fashioned, plain two story building on the bank of the E st Riv r at tlie foot of Thirty-fourth street is the flower market of New York. Here it is that i tlie Long Island flower grower; come | every morning with their roses nnd lilieo, and here the florist of New Y’oik mid Brook yn come t> buy. Growers are there whose flower farms cover acre* of ground, and other grower* who have but a l>-d or two, snatched from some desert or gravel Fioristsgo there to buy who eater to the rich of tlie fash ionable avenue* and florist* go there who sell their po-ics at five cents a bunch to i the children of poverty in the lower part | of the city. The market is a stringc; pluce, ami so hidden that few people ex- • cent the florist know even of its csis- j fence. i When the half past seven lioat conic’ I jn there is a little space cleared for the flower aristocracy. In a room, or in what is really a space or corner in one end of tlie market, tlie rose grower* take their station. The rose* are never brought in baskets lik : the plebian flower. Five hundred of them cut with long stems, are packed carefully in little wide, shallow wooden boxes. These roses arc carefully laid ; n cotton batting, so tiiat tlie box s con'd be tossed ami tumb.e I about as a baggiig'i man tosses or tumbles a trunk, without injury. Each variety of tlie queen of flowers is separate from it* neighbor. 1’ arl* iu one box—yellow, .shining like amber, and frosh sprinkle.]; jacks in another —crimson, and wet with dew. When tlie roses come into market, tlie other flowers are forgotten, if, indeed, they are not already all sold. The flower market is held every day in the week, except on Sunday; but Saturday is the time when it is crowded. Saturday is, in reality, tlie exhibition day, and every man, woman and child tries then to snow the flowers to the best advantage. It is “show day.” The prices then are better than during the week, too, except toward tlie end. Then they are very’ low. Prices are always, it is said, higher during tlie winter, and very low in summer. In the autumn, before people get back into the city for the winter, prices are lower than at any other time. Greatness iii Liltlensss. I knew a venerablq gentleman of Buf falo, Dr. Scott, who did very great things in a small way. At the age of 70 he became con-cious of decaying power of vision. Being professionally a physi cian and naturally a philosopher, he conceived the- idea that the eye might be improved by what he denominated a series of “ocular gymnastics.” He there fore undertook to exercise his eyes upon the formation of minute letters—work ing upon them until the organs began to be weary, and then, like a prudent man, resting for hours. By progres-ing slowly and carefully, he became, at last able to do wonders iu the way of fine writing. He also became able to read the news paper without glasses. (Here’s a hint for some clever Yankee as good as a fortune.) Now, readers, prepare for a big story; but be assured that it is true, aud tiiat my hands have handled and my eyes seen the things of which I tell you. At the age of 71, Dr. Scott wrote upon nn enameled card with a stile, on a spice equal to tiiat of one side of a nickel three cent piece, tlie Lord’s Prayer, the Apostles’ Cree 1, the Parable of the Ten Virgins, the Parable of the Rich Man ami Lazarus, the Beatitudes, the fifteetli, one hundred and twentieth, one hundred and thirty-first and one hundred and thirty-third Psalm*, and tho date “1860.” Every word, every letter and ’every point of all these passages was written exquisitely on this minute space; ami that old min not only saw- every mark he made, but had the delicacy of muscular action and steadiness of nerve to form the letter* so beautifully that they abide the test of the highest mag nifying power. They were, of course, by microscope aid, and not with a purely forearm movement.- Lissoni in Life. Jokas from tlie German. “What wonderfully magnificent teeth you have. Mi*; Ancient’” “Y >u fl itter me.” “Not at all. I was only admiring their fine workmanship.’’ Duellist—How the thought of my young and bcau’iful betrothed unnerve* me. If I fall S c nd—Now, brace up; don’t bother yourself. I'd marry her. “What a thoroughly false countenance I that flashy pawnbroker has.” “That's funny. It’s the only thing aliout him that isn't false.” “So you give me the mitten, and I can I never hope.” “I'm very sorry, but I’m rather partic ular.” “That's unlucky, for I’m not.” Ouilc Cnimportaut In court: The Judge.--It is in vain for you to deny it. Here are three witnesses who saw you commit the deed. Prisoner.—Only three? And pray wh it are three out of a population of 36,000,000? SLAYING JHE BULL. How a Brutal “Sport” j s Conducted in Peru. Torturing the Animal to Death forth” Aians’meni of the Spectators. Tlie Peruvian “torrero” (bull »lay rr and hi* “picadores" (liternllv “prickers") are all Spaniards by birth and a more bloodthirsty, villainous crew arc s Idom seen assembled. Each ma: is bedecked in the faded velvet jacket knee-breeches and white socks, whiih ' form part of tin-attire of the profess oni. > bud tighter. Tlie bulls, which it mu t ; in justice be admitted, says a writer in ' the lii-ookhjn Mugaeine, are fine, we'.l --! fed, wild-looking creatures, are adinit- I ted singly into the area at a signal given i by blowing a tiumpct, and as the an:- I mid is id forward, the fun begins. A j mounted “picadcre” approachin”- en i dcavors to fix in tho neck of the beast a ; small steel dart, one end or which I sharply pointed and washed i with brim tone, a strip of I colored ribbon [being attached , to the other. The usual proceelings ar: j as follow*: If the bull turns and charge* . the rider, cause.* liis horse to whirl round • ami approach the quarry on his other side, when frequently tlie dart becomes ; fixed in tlie spot aimed at. The sharp ' pain resulting Irom the prick and th. brimstone combineel infuriates the ani J mal and he rushes blindly forward. I straight ahead, as. if making for the peo , pic sitting on tlie lower tiers of scat-, which occasionally encircle tlie amphi theatre. But liefore many paces ar ! made a red flag is waved before his eye* ' by one of the foot “picadores,” which i causes him to turn and face liis new as ! sailant. Pierced with another smal flart, as sharp and burning as the first, j the bull roar.* and becomes mad with i rage, and with eyes flashing fire he tears [ round the arena, pawing the sandy flool ' with his feet, and turning his head rigli: i and left at each object presented to him. . Tlie game grows fast and furious; I tlie music plays some stirring I gallop; the “picadores” cross and recross the arena, a* if possessing charmed lives, planting their darts in all parts of tie infuriated animal; the spectators clap their hands in excitement, some of the ladies even tearing off their black man tillas to wave them in the air, until,upon a given signal, the music ceases; the voice of the audience sinks into silence; 1 the “picadores” retire behind wooden screens placed for their protection at the i ends of the arena; and the bull, decked in gay ribbons of many color*, is left alone on the battlefield, triumphant. But his triumph is imaginary; for the cessation of the attack signifies nothing more than a reprieve of hi* sentence. The clear notes of the trumpet sounds again, heralding in the “matador,” who lis the hero of the day. His dress i* somewhat richer in quality than j that of his companions. He is armed with a short dagger ‘ shaped sword, which is generally carried in his right hand, hidden under a small shawl,brilliant red in color, thrown over his left arm. A cheer bursts from tho audience, and the “matador” advances boldly to face the bull. The agility and quickness shown by these “matadors” in evading the charge* of the bull, whose strength is only partly spent by previous I exertion, are marvellous to behold. The importance of the red shawl is soon i shown in the way’ in which it is extended j at arm’s length to attract the bu.l'* I attention. But in one of the final charges the noble beast receives hi* deathstroke. At the first good oppor tunity the sharp-pointed sword is thrust with unerring aim through the nape of his neck, reaching the very centre of hi* heart, and with a gasp, amid the cheers of the audience, the baud meanwhile playing the national anthem, the creatui” falls on hi* knees, and, rolling over, ex pires. Retribution. The liar was telling some of hisfrien ls in the smoking-car how be was a : government contractor during the war, and on one occasion he worked ia 5,000 pairs of shoe* with pasted soles. “Was that jist before the second Bull Run?" queried a farmer looking man on a seat near by. “1 believe it was.” The farmer pulled off an old shoe and exhibited a bunion as big as his fist. “I got a pair of your shoes,” he said, as he stood up, “and they made this bunion ami lamed me- up so that I was captured and spent six months in Ander sonville. Stranger, prepare to git the biggest licking on this earth.” The liar had to admit that he was only 1(5 years old when the war closed, , anil to furnish the bunion man w ith a cigar.--Ji all Street Xeite A Boar Routed hy Cows. This tale of the husbandman and hit faithful cow comes from Nova Scotia. The farmer hunting for his cows at dusk, came upon a big black bear that at once showed fight. The farmer was about to seek safety in flight, when l‘ j three cow*, bellowing loudly, with tai s erect, and site in their usually placid eye*, charged the bear so fiercely that be turned and fled.