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1

as Willa Battier WE slings»-

 

 

OUR CHOIR.

BY A. w.
Our village church has gota choir
\Vliose singing’s something to admire;—
In all their tunes is something sw'eet
\Vhich makes my heart in gladness beat;
They make no failures; but, in truth,
Behind their song not all is smooth.

 

BELLA \\'.

 

And while the sermon may be dry
And fail to lift your feelings high,
And far from being very brief—-
’Tis SWeet to know you’ll get relief
\Vhen that new organ does begin
And all their voices follow in.

They come to church and take their part,
But there is jealousy of heart;

Their Words in time and tune may flow,
But, ah! their minds do not run so:—
Meek-faced they are before the crowd—
But absent from it they are loud.

The parson preaches love and peace;

You’d think the choir possessed of these;

Though on the scale they do accord

The men ne’er speak a friendly \vord;

Together the girls' voices rise

Though they would scratch each other's
eyes.

And every time they meet, somehow,

To practice, there occurs a row—

A musical one, I must confess,

“’here discm'd’s more and music’s less——

A hapless family in one boat

In which they’ve learned to quarrel by
note.

On trivial points they‘re not agreed;
Each man among them wants to lead
And vows he will not sing again.
Each lady thinks it is quite plain
Her place is wrong, “and it is mean."
But Sunday comes and all's serene.

Although they study harmony_

They may accord, but don’t agree;

And while I’Vill‘s notes the gamut climb
John well could knock him out of time,
And as Kate leads in that first verse
Sue’d like to spoil that hat of hers.

’Tis music‘s aim to bless and soothe,
But very strange it is, in truth,

{I‘hat those who furnish it to us
Should be in a continual fuss:

But though y-wu wrangle all the week
On Sunday songful be, and meek.

 

Miss langwonhi’s— Maid.

BY )1. It.

 

i iu.:\\'Ei.l..

 

Miss Eva Langworthy sat in her 10W,
pink silk dressing-chair, looking very
pretty and fair, while her long golden
hair was being brushed aud deftly ar-
ranged by Juliet Mirel’s mesmeric fing-
ers. Such perfect hands they were—
those of the dark—eyed little French
girl; small, of warm brunette tint, and
dimpled at every joint. Gentle, care-
ful hands, that Miss Langworthy very
greatly liked to have about her.

She was a pretty little girl, and just
now, in her gay dark chintz dress, and
white—ruffled Swiss apron, with cardinal
ribbon bows, and tiny little lace cap
set jauntily on her luxurious black
braids, Juliet Mirel was undeniably fas—
cinating enough to turn many a lover’s
head—even grave Jenkins, the footman,
smiled at her, as he entered after a pre-
liminary rap.

“Miss Juliet is wanted in the din-
ing-room. A gentleman, Miss.”

A bright glowing flush rose warmly
for a moment to the girl’s lovely check,
then she tossed her head a little saucily.

“ I’ll be down presently, tell him, Jen-
kins. After I’ve finished Miss Eva's
hair.”

“ You needn't wait for that, Juliet. Go
down and see your beau—of course he’s

your beau. Take care, Juliet, you are
pulling awfully.”
“ Am I? I didn’t mean to, Miss Eva.

Indeed it isn’t my beau. It’s only Dave
Redmond, I’m sure—dear old Dave, from
the Home Farm, where you took me
from, you know.”

Miss Langworthy smiled indulgently.

“Well, run along child. My hair can
wait, and perhaps Mr. David Redmond
can’t.”

Juliet’s little feet tinkled down the‘

stairs, making a swift, light pattering
that caused honest Dave’s heart to palpi-
tate as he sood, hat in hand, waiting be-
side a parcel in the elegant large dining-
room. A

“ Good morning Dave.
you.”

“Did you, now? Well, that was cute
in you, Julie, seeing as how you didn’t
know I was coming.”

His honest, sun-browned face was
wearing an expression of undisguised
admiration, and Juliet was not slow to
see, and, in her pretty, coquettish way,
completely ignored it.

“Is there any news from the Farm,
Dave? Is your mother well, and old
aunt Arby? ”

She stole a curious glance at the pack-
age on the table. Dave followed the
glance, and pushed it toward her.

“ Aunt Arby sent you a couple of her
pumpkin pies, Julie, and there’s one of
your fav’rite orange jelly-cakes mother
sent.”

Juliet shrugged her shoulders prettily
and laughed.

“I am sure you are all so good, Dave,
to remember me.”

“ And how is it about your remember-
ing us, Julie? Any signs of your com-
ing back soon?”

His wistful eyes were eloquent with
unspoken affection for this
flighty girl.

Julie shook her head decidedly, and

I said it was

showed her little pearly teeth so be-.

witchingly.
“ No, indeed!

can’t begin to know what a heap I think
of you. Don’t say ‘no,’ Julie!”

She looked demurer at the ribbons on
her apron, and picked at the lace-edged
ruffle.

“But you know I must say no, Dave,
because it would seem almost like
marrying my brother. Besides—I can’t
ever go back to the country again, Dave.
I believe I’d die of lonesomeness. Why
Dave, I go to a ball or the theater most
every week—Miss Eva’s so good to let
me.” '

Her eyes were glowing like stars now,
iand Dave saw a proud delight on her

face, and his heart sunk to his very feet.

“ You do?” He said it with a little
accent of jealousy. “I thought when I

3 came in that that six-footer of a servant—
; man was precious good-looking. So it’s
. to be him, Julie? ”

She curled her lip
tempt.

“ Indeed I’d not look at a footman, I
can tell you, Dave Redmond! I go with
a gentleman, a real, fair gentleman!
just as handsome as can be, and oh!
such elegant clothes, and" white hands.”

Dave opened his eyes wider, and
looked sternly at the flushed, piquant
face.

in genuine con-

: “ A real fine gentleman, eh? and you

i,

Erough on a fellow, Julie.

3. lady’s maid! Not that ’t’s any dis-
grace, Julie, but gentlemen don’t often
take up with the like.”

Julie’s eyes flashed defiance at him.

“That’s just like you, Dave Redmond
—just as jealous as jealous can be. As
if I don’t know that Mr. Melmotte is as
good as—you! ”

She flung the last .word at him in a
furious little rage.

“\Vell, you must do as you please,
Julie. I’ll tell them how you got the
things all right. Good-by, Julie.”

“You needn’t go ofi in a huff, Dave,
I’m sure! I wanted to tell you all about
the elegant ball I’m going to to-night—”

Dave took his hat and turned to the
door.

“ I didn’t think you could be quite so
Never mind;
maybe some day I can be of service to
you, and then—”

“It’ll never be ‘then,’
I’ll have you sometime.”

Dave went slowly out of the door, and
Julie nodded an independent, impudent
little good-by, and tripped off to Miss
Eva Langworthy.

if you mean

 

“I do look splendid now, don’t I? I
never knew before half how pretty I
really was! And Mr. Melmotte Will be
so proud of me in this elegant rose silk
and velvet basque!”

Miss Eva Langworthy’s dressing room
door was securely locked, that lady
having departed in her carriage an hour
before to some grand reception, and
Julie Mirel, resplendent in a trailing
rose pink dress, with a cuirass waist of
deeper color, certainly made as charm-
ing a picture as one could wish to see,
as she stood before Miss Eva’s dress-
ing case, looking at the unwontedly
beautiful reflection, and framing her
thoughts into unspoken words.

“ If Miss Eva should find out I have
borrowed one of her dresses! I won-
der if it is wicked?” Then, after a
pause, “ Nonsense, I’m not going to hurt
it one bit, and Mr. Melmotte will be so
pleased! ”»

She critically twined a trailing spray
of clematis in her hair, her cheeks flush—
ing afresh as she heard the pause of
carriage wheels at the door, and knew it

I was her handsome, stylish lover come to

pretty, =

take her to the’ball.

Then she cast a half frightened, half
conscience stricken look around the
room, as if expecting some one to con-
front her and condemn her. Then, her
little brunette hands trembling, she un-
locked Miss Langworthy’s jewel safe
and took a magnificent set of earrings

,and pin and bracelet from their dark
green velvet rest.

“ Only this once—only just this once.
I promised Mr. Melmotte that I would
wear pearls to let him see how I be-
came them. It can’t do any harm,
scarcely, and I’ll wear my waterproof
over everything so the servants shall
never know. And I’ll make Mr. Mel-
motte promise to bring me back by 12,
before Miss Eva gets home.”

She clasped the coolly glowing gems
in her pretty ears, at her round, straight
throat, and on an exquisitely-chiseled
arm; then, having given way entirely to
the temptation, and thereby forcing con-
sciousness to desist its clamor, went
down to her handsome “gentleman”
lover, whose black eyes lighted wonder-
fully at sight of her, and who was unu-
sually gracious all the short, delightful
ride to the ball.

“It is just perfect, isn’t it? ” Julie
whispered, excitedly, between the
dances, her fresh, girlish face all aflush,
and her eyes like twin fires.

“ I see nothing perfect but you, Juliet.
Come, the next quadrille is forming, and
it will be time to go then, if you must
go at twelve.

“ Oh, yes, I must, positively! I
wouldn’t have Miss Eva find me out for
all the world.”

So, after that last delightful dance,
Julie went to the cloak room and
wrapped up in her long black water-
proof, and went down stairs to meet Mr.
'Melmotte at the carriage entrance.

3 Somehow, as she rode along, Juliet
wondered why she had enjoyed it all so,
and with the reaction that invariably
follows dissipation and excitement of
_any sort, she began to fear lest Miss
lEva might have returned earlier than

-

I have splendid times her original intention. She glanced im-

here, Dave, and Miss Eva is just the nic- l patiently out of the window; then her

est mistress a girl could wish for.”
“Because, Julie—because—well,
see—you know it’s awful lonesome like,
down home, now you’re gone; and I was
thinking—I thought, maybe—you—you
wouldn’t mind—you would go back, you
know. Go back and be my wife, Julie!”
Dave blundered through his honest
proposal, his face full of confusion, his
eyes downcast on the somber brown vel-
vet carpet while he spoke. Then, as if
with the cessation of the sound of his
voice his courage returned, he looked
manfully in the girl’s saucy face—so
saucy, so sweet.
“Julie—I’ll be so good to you! you

you '

gaze changed to one of surprise, then
one of vague alarm.

“ Why, Mr. Melmotte, this isn't the
way! The driver has lost the road—
there isn’t a house I know along here! "

She laid her arm on her companion’s
sleeve in her excited trepidation; then,
looking in his face, saw him smile odd-
y.
" It’s all right, Julie. We'll stop along
here somewhere."

She sprung to the door of the carriage,
a scream piercing the silent night air,
just as Melmotte’s hand was laid across
her lips.

“ None of that, young lady!

 

Just be

 

good enough to take off Miss Lang-
worthy’s pearls and you may go home at
your leisure! Don’t you scream again,
or——” t

A horrible paralysis seemed to have
seized the girl, as she swiftly reviewed
the situation. Alone, with this man, a
thief—~her lover! and this the reward of
her wickedness in wearing what she had
no business to wear! What should she
do? and oh! what ever would Miss Eva
say, and Dave, when they heard of her
disgraceful escapade?

Melmotte’s low, resolute voice dis-
pelled her horrified reverie.

“ You shall be driven safely home,
and I will get out here, if you will give
me the pearls, and make no fuss about
it. If not—"

Julie gave one glance in his desper-
ate, steely eyes, and shrunk back’in the
carriage, with lips white as death, but a
countenance as defiantly resolute as Mel-
motte’s own.

“You shall never have them, never;
I'll—D)

She gasped the words from under his
cruel hand, and then saw him suddenly
spring to the carriage door, to receive a
stunning blow from a stalwart man, just
outside.

“ So this is the way you escort ladies
to a ball, is it? Do you happen to want
to feel the heft of my fist again, my
beauty, or will what you have got last
you till the next time? ”

Oh, Dave! is it you, dear, dear Dave? ”

Julie caught his arm convulsively.

“Me, sure as guns, Julie! I’ve been to
the theater, and you and him was com-
ing out of the dancing place just as I
passed by; and it kind 0’ struck me this
gentleman of yours wasn’t a right sound
coon, so I followed you afoot; thought
I’d see you safe home, Julie.”

“ Oh, Dave!”

It was all she could say, the eScape
was so overpowering to her.

Then, While Mr. Melmotte picked him-
self up from the muddy roadside, Dave
jumped in beside Julie, and gave the
order homeward.

“ Not but that I believe you had some-
thing to do with it,” he said, sternly, to
the driver, “ but you take us back, and
you’ll not hear from me again.”

It was just twelve when Juliet sprung
up the steps of Miss Langworthy’s
house; and long before that lady re-
turned, the dress and pearls were safe
in their proper places, and Juliet stand—
ing at the front basement door, bidding
Dave good night.

“So I’ll tell mother, and Aunt Arby,
it’s all settled, Julie? You’ll come back

and be the mistress of the Home Farm, 

little girl? And you’re sure you love me
lwgll’ enough to give up all this fine city
1 e. ”

She crept humbly into his arms, and
laid her head on his broad breast, with
a confidence that thrilled his true, big
heart with. perfect ecstacy.

" Are you sure you love me as much
as you did before you knew what ‘a
wicked girl I have been? ”

And for answer—Miss Eva Lang—
wortihy had to advertise for a new lady’s
mat .

 

Heroes of the Custer Massacre.

BY COON CARTER.

 

 

Business recently called me over to
Crow Wing, Minn., the enterprising
town not long since noted as the death
place of Hole-in-the—day, the great Chip-
pewa chief; and finding a few hours of
leisure upon my hands, I concluded to
call on an old acquaintance. According-
ly I sought out his residence, received
a cordial welcome, and spent a very so-
ciable evening, but I must confess my
ftéeliings were somewhat hurt at the last
0 t. '

My friend, Stebeneezer Hornwallis
Moosemeat, gave me a substantial sup-
per, a pretty good five-cent cigar, and,
at length, our conversation turning upon
personal topics, he inquired:

“How comes it, Carter, that you are
known in the newspapers as ‘ Coon? ' I
never knew that was one of your
handles."

“ Well, you‘see, the name is short for
Raccoon; for, while a scout under Gen-
eral Custer, I was known as Raccoon
Carter, from the fact that my old trap~
ping headquarters was upon the Rac-
coon River,” I explained.

“ Yes, yes! Quite natural. I believe
I did hear you allude to the fact, once,
that you used to be a scout under Gen-
eral Custer," replied my friend.

“ Very likely. you did, for I am proud
to recall those days upon the frontier,"
I answered, swelling out with the recol-
lection of many exploits under the gal-
lant cavalry leader. “ You see, I was one
of the general’s favorite scouts, and at
the very moment he fell amid that living
sea, in the valley of the Little Horn, I
was—"

“Oh, yes! I understand,” interrupted
Hornwallis, placing his fingers astride
of his cigar and coolly firing a column of
smoke at a black spot on the ceiling;
“I had a ninety-fourth cousin who fig-
ured in that battle, and he, too, escaped
only by a miracle. Possibly you fought
beside him there. His name was Sir
Roderick Muldoon." ‘

Here he paused and gazed reflectively
at the toe of his boot as it rested upon
the wood-box. .

“ You seem wholly to misunderstand
my meaning, sir,” I replied, somewhat
frigidly. “What I was about to say is,
that at the time of Custer’s death, I was
lying behind a projection of the ground,
hemmed in—”

"Certainly! Not the least doubt of
it!” again interrupted my friend. “I
saw a fellow only a few months ago
who had fought at Custer’s side to the
very last. He and the Yellow-haired
chief were the last men left, and, as the
gallant general fell, he, too, ,went down,
fairly riddled with implements of war,

, and a. big Sioux yanked off his scalp,

and he was left for one of the stiffs.
He had nine bullet-holes through his
heart and liver, 3. big arrow was stuck
clean through his wind-pipe, his north
ear gone, and a flying tomahawk had
gone plum through the centre of his

body, taking with it section of his back--

 

 

 

 

bone, leaving a hole that you could sling
a cat through. But, suddenly recollect-
ing that he had, in an inner pocket, a
box of Dr. Healemups Honey of Halifax,
he drew it forth with a spasmodic jerk
and daubed it onto his wounds, and in
three hours and a half they were all
healed over without leaving a scar. All

having his scalp ornamenting a Sioux
Wigwam is the fact that he is now per-
fectly bald. He is at present engaged
in selling the wonderful remedy that
saved his life at the Big Horn mas—
sacre.
story, for he told it to me himself," con-
cluded my friend, with a solemn eleva—
tion of his right eyebrow.

I gave the immoderate liar one cold,
reproachful look, and then arose, secured
my cap and gloves, bade him a very
frigid good-evening, and went on my

cigar before his comfortable fire—glad
to think that I didn't have to go to bed
with such a conscienCe as he must
square accounts with, when his time
comes.

 

 

The Flame Hamlet.

BY GEORGE W. BRO\VNE.

 

 

Away to the Northwest, through a
wild, desolate tract of country, within
the territory of the Hudson Bay Com—
pany, surrounded by dreary pine forests
extending for miles and miles, alternat-

ing in dismal swamps, high, jagged
bluffs, dark ravines, and rock-bound
gullies. There the flood of the Kaskong-

shadi—Indian name for broken water—
a stream noted even in that wild region
for its rugged gorges and furious rapids.
though ever and anon intercepted with
broader stretches of rippling, sunny,
pale-green water, rushes on its way,
gathering new impetus at every winding
and every rapid, till suddenly met by the
outstretching arm of Big Pine Bluff.
Then its current, dashed back by the
solid bluff, is quickly divided, and angry,
foam-lashed, the separated waters rush
past the point on either side, the two
streams going further and further apart
as they continue on their wild and lonely
course.

Some years ago, while in the service
of the great Fur Company, business
called me to Pike’s Station, at the head
of Lone Lake. Through that densely
wooded country the rivers and creeks
afiorded the ‘only way of travel, and my
course lay up the right fork of the Kas—
kongshadi. Accordingly, accompanied by
half a dozen friendly Indians, in a large
Nor’west canoe, I started on my trip.

It was in midsummer, and the first few
days of our journey passed off pleasantly.
Then the rapids of the stream were
reached, and One after another of them
safely passed’ till the last was met. But
here was a series of cataracts the most
furious we had found. The water was
too deep to admit of wading, and the
banks were too high and steep for even
the nimble-footed Indians to gain a foot-
hold. Still, they had passed up here be--
fore, and felt they could do it again; so
with a hearty good-will, roused by the
sight of the placid water above, we bent
to our oars; and after fifteen minutes’
hard work, with a final mighty effort,
the perilous ascent was gained. But,
ere we could give utterance to our con-
gratulations of success, the prow of the
canoe, caught by the rushing tide, was
partially turned, when the steersman’s
paddle, strained by the sudden pressure,
snapped short off! Then, in spite of our
wild exertions, the shallop, unguided,
and at the mercy of the powerful cur-
rent fOr a moment, swung completely
round, and plunging into the whirling
eddies of the dividing torrent, shot for-
ward, to be swept with lightning~like
rapidity on the seething course of the
left fork of the Kashkongshadi, dashing
leaping, plunging down. the companion
rapid torthat which we had just ascended.

In vain we tried to check our headlong
course as we swept into the wild de-
scent; the boat had received an impetus
which no power of ours could stay, and
threatening to be ingulfed at every
plunge, the frail craft bore us on through
the white sea of breakers, which soothed
in a shrieking tumult, at fearful rapidity,
the clouds of spray flung from the mad
stream nearly blinding us. But sudden-
ly, high above the raging of the cataract,
sounded a hissing, crackling roar, and
then there burst upon our startled vision
a sight so appalling that the perils of
the mad torrent, great as they were,
were instantly forgotten.

Below us, upon either hand, the forest
was all in flames! As far as the eye
could see the conflagration extended,
shrouding alike the stunted underbrush
and the lofty pine in its fiery folds, till
heaven and earth seemed one living sea
of fire! - _ ‘

Frantic with terror, we seized our pad-
dles with redoubled energy, to win our
way back from that fearful passage.
But the canoe had gained a powerful im-
pulsion, and, against this, with the in-
creasing fury of the stream, our efforts
were lost. Ay, we soon saw to our dis-
may there was only one inevitable
course for us, and that was through a
gantlet of fire!

Though guiding as much as we could
the headlong course of the boat, it was
but a toy in the grasp of the turgid wat-
ers, and we were indeed at the mercy of
the elements, while our fearful river-
race seemed in keeping with the fate to
which we were so fast hastening.

Wilder and swifter ran the maddened
current as if impatient to hear us on to
that fiery passage where the flames met
upon either of its banks and arched
over its stream upon the overhanging
branches of the trees.

Casing the lofty ends of our canoe with
wet blankets, and also wrapping our
own forms with similar covering as our
slight but only shields, we were borne
on into that burning region, the air
growing hotter at every breath, while
the flames raged in wilder fury. Upon
every hand the dark, primeval forest
was all ablaze with one great rolling
mas of fire; its mighty trees glowing in

 

fiery radiance as the forked tongues of

the inconvenience he experiences fromf

I have no cause to doubt thej

way, leaving him to enjoy his unsmoked i

the hissing, shrieking destroyer streamcd‘
up their‘lofty heights, sending jets of
darting fire high into the air, as ravxsh-
ing them of their gorgeous summer foli-
age, and changing their forms to flaming
pinnacles of gleaming embers; while the
seething, unearthly roar of the surging
Econflagration grew well-nigh deafening;
and blending with the elements’ fearful
‘tumult was heard every now and then
the thundering reverberations of some
,forest giant crashing to the earth as
felled by the hand of the fiery slayer, its
, descent marked by huge volumes of
dense smoke and clouds of sparks and
'cinders rising amidst the scene of ter-
rible grandeur. Breaking in at intervals
1- upon this awful confusion was heard the
piercing shrieks of wild animals over-
taken in their flight by the flames;while
scorched and terrified birds fell thickly
’ around us, to die by a quicker death.
Round circuitous windings, past hid-
; den bowlders, and down angry, foaming
; cataracts following each other, in gigantic
leaps, in rapid succession, our gallant
canoe was hurled by the swift current of
the mad river through the new hot and
hissing waters, the fury of the rapids
seeming to vie with the frenzy of the
flames. As we sped helplessly on, the
overhanging trees swept their longJam-
ing branches across our faces, or strewed
the stream and us with burning brands,
while we grew weak and faint frdm the
overpowering heat, and the stifled, fur-
nace—like air made us pant for breath.
Still, worst of all, as far as our strained
and anxious vision could penetrate the
lurid haze, there was no end to the fiery
gantlet into which the merciless tide had
swept us, and was still bearing us down
its unknown course to a certain and
fearful death.

An interval of unutterable suffering
followed, passed amid the blinding flash
and deafening of the raging flames, and '
the scarcely less wildly—leaping rush of
the mad waters. Then, slowly, our en»
durance yielded to the fiery trial; our
breath became more and more labored,
and our fire-scorched eyes more dim.
Soon my companions, one by one, sank
beneath the dreadful ordeal—some hap—
pily unconscious, while others were
moaning in their suffocating agony; and
then I felt a bewildering ,exhaustion
stealing over me, paralyzing every fac—
ulty, when I closed my aching eyes, as I
believed, forever. '

i

 

How long we were in that state of
insensibility I cannot tell, but we were
brought back to consciousness by a
cooling breath of air fanning our feverish
brows. Arousing from our stupor we
found that the narrow gorge of the
stream had widened into a broad lake,
where our canoe was now at rest,“ and
we were safe from the vengeance of the -
flames. At first we could hardly, réalize
that by the guidance of Providence we
had been brought safely out of that fear-
ful race through a gantlet of fire.

' ==__——'_—-—__——-

Telephone lichoco.

 

—“ That young doctor makesdan im-
mense number of calls _on Mrs. Oglesby.
Is she very sick?” “No; she is very
pretty.” .

—Mildred———“ I wouldn’t marry the best
man in the world!” Mr. Suitor—“ There
is no danger. The bride never gets the
best man.”

—Mandy—“ What do doctor say is
do matter wiv you? ” Rastus—e“ He say
I got what he call a torpedo libbah.”
Mandy (in evident trepidation)——“ It ain’t
liable to ’splode, is it? "

-—O'Rourke———“ Were ye hurted much
by dher crack Flannigan give ye wid his
shtick? ” McNally (proudly)-—“It takes
a betther man than Denny Flannigan to
hurt me; Oi war only sthunned.”

Hungerford—J'Do you believe, doctor,
that the use of tobacco tends to shorten
a man’s days?” Dr. Powell—“ I know
that it does. I tried to stop it once, and
the 'days were about ninety hours long."

—-George (nervously)—“ I’d like the ’best
in the world, Kittie, to marry you, but
I don’t know how to propose." Kittie
(promptly and practically)——“ That’s all
right, George. You’ve finished with me.
Now go to papa." \

“ Call the next- case! ” thundered the
rural justice. “ The next case,” said the
shivering bailiff, “ is a case 0’ Christmas
liquor that I have levied on, yer honor."
“ That is- a case,” replied the justice.
sternly, “ which demands private investi-
gation, and I shall reserve my. decision
until after the holidays. Clear the court! "

—“ But you surely’ owe something to
.your fellow—man," said the genial citizen
to the person who snecrs at holidays.
"I know it,” was the reply. “ But I
won’t be able to tell just how much till
the bills for my wife’s Christmas shop?
ping come in.”

—“ Some folks thinks this Venezuela
affair will be settled without trouble, but '
I’ll be dag-on if I do," said Mr. Jason.
as the ~crowd about the grocery stove
made for the old man. " I never see one.
of these here line fence quarrels yit that
didn’t wind up in a fight."

-——“ Dear papa,” wrote the little girl,
" I sent you a kiss last week by the ex-
press man. I hope he gave it to you all
right. Hereafter I’ll send 'em by mail,
because the express man is very homely
and I don’t like giving them to him, and “’
neither mamma nor nurse will do it for
me.”

——There was a good deal of sound
human nature in the unexpected reply of
the dying old woman to her minister's
leading question: “ Here, at the end of
a long life, which of the Lord's mercies
are you most thankful for? ” Her eyes
brightened, and she answered, “ My
victuals.”

a large congregation on New Year's Eve.
In the course of his remarks, which were
extcmporaneous, he appealed to different
classes, beginning, " And you, old men,
with your hoary heads." Then, address-
ing the young men,'he said." ‘f And you,
young men, with your blooming cheek—-
ahemlvl mean with the bloom still upon
your cheek.”

 

—An English curate was preaching to '

 

 

 

 

         

    
   
    
   
 
   
   
    
   
    
   
  
   
    
   
  
  
  
    
  
  
 
    
  
  
  
    
  
   
  
   
     
   
   
  
  
 
    
    
    
 
   
   
   
   
  
    
 
  
 
   
  
 
 
    
  
  
  
   
    
   
 
   
  
   
   
  
  
   
     
   
  
   
   
   
  
   
  
  
   
    
  
 
   
 
 
  
   
    
   
  
  
   
     
  
   
     
  
   
  
  
  
  
  
  
   
  
   
     
     
      
         
        

 

 

3,71»  ,5 A ‘ ‘ is,