hy Ye re e< 3 : ' 3 3 a 4 es i 2 j i = Ste. a : > : a ! 5 i 4 ‘ re * S eV sa Pannen ie o i Naf a Pear eats Saran s % Bont EES a } t | { = i f ? 1} “4 F : \ _ Et - Oe ver segytneen meme -- arn semen ae ee < * # , iad A fh + Aeris |} AGENTS. “ ‘A MONTH. Agents w t ' articles in th id aS Se.; yearly, id z ye ‘cases of blotches ailroad, 1 k. osseSsion. at. we fory and attic Frame : Sipeellar “With gs in House, with ‘two-stor ‘@ minutes’ ride of Brooklyn, by 20 trains daily, and 35 minutes nt. location; good scnools, churches, inutes’ walk from depot. ‘Apply at the office of extension, Rent lox’. Im- New YORK WEEKLY, R. J. DUFF. CLINTON BROTHERS, Clintonville, Ct. |OUR NAME PRINTED on 40 Mixed Cards Wier 10 cents.” 1308 $10 2 $25 Tita ed Catal¢ 48.52 J, H. BUF £ a week. ‘our own town. Terms and $5 outiit $66 oN TeLDerr & CO, Portland, Maine. free. : FORD'S SONS, BOSTON, Mass. 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Salesmen to sell light. Hardware to Dealers. No PEDDLING. Salary, Address 813 men wanted in eyery da to introduce our Old and St: cit NEW D ARTURE : Traveling and Local Sales Le m4 7 and town in the U.S. and Cana- aple Manufactures. $75 per Month. | Hotel and traveling expenses paid. Apply, by letter or in person, 1% A. GRANT & COs 2;4,6&8 Boilie Bt. Cincinnati, O. i bs - Peery % eS ’ = ¥ £y Outiit, T 5 ards, with s. DOWD name, for 10 cts and stam & CO., Bristol, Conn. - p. Agents’ 3-52 16% Pa ‘e Illustrated Catalogue! Free ‘BOSTON NOVELTY CO., Boston, Mass. t . — 1-13 1-13 world. JAY BRO © One sample free. anted: 36 best selling Address NSON, Detroit, Mich. — am press 2 3A BALL. pe! ure. Milton Goid_ GL THIS LOT ONLY JRIOSITY COMPANY, 29808 Walnut Street, Philadelphia, Pa. 1 SECRET PY, Bez fumes, -50c. Hair Crim rs. OF FEMALE -BEAU- ‘lL Case Frozen Per- .j 1 SilveryGlove But- §, 50c.; 1; Alaska Dia- Ring, $1.00;. 1 Lovers? 50 CENTS, Ad- 3 ME stamp. J.MI cards, with : NK “&CO ame, 10¢e. Sam les for Se. -; Nassau, N. Y. 17-2. t t Sane ‘Agents in* January, 77, with ) free. . - ) ey Mado by T7- 593 {my £3 New Articles. Samples free es ©. M, Linimgton, Chicago. | 17-13 2. Address rs BaD Each weck to Agents. Goods Staple. 10,000 tes- , yey timonials received. Terms liberal. Particulars tree. } Wee - J. WORTH & CO., St. Louis, Mo. of. 100 PIAN . of dt GREAT OFPER first-class W.. We will during - -these Hard Tin ORG nes ANS, new and keers including . cash or Instali- Wa" tS at lower prices ae or WATERS: | Git ee than ays ee eek UpkiGurrr MORGANS re the BEST MADE. ¢ Tae ANTED. Ellustrited Cai- aio, ace a. iberal discount. to Teachers, MOMACK, WATERS & SONS, Manuivert and ' f p ; 4 Sy a rs. n Be ers, 10 Mast) th 8, Union square, N.Y. 182 “positive. dress pany, YOU WANT EM two letter stamps. fimo — - | Stet F PLOYMENT? | Codd veat and . pleasant ee Age ts’ Guide and Instructor, a valuable book, sent free to any Address, The Blake Com- The on St., Chicago, Til. ine: habit cured painless. Dr, Carlton, 187 eet No REVOLVE Cat. for Ba $5 oe aie &2.50, TO kinds. Guns ~ i estern Gun Werks, Chicago, Ii.. to $500. “ Monster, Ii} 182-' ATCHES. Cheapest/in the known world. Sam- e watch d outfit fre COULTER & CO = . : + CICARO. 5 “No.” answered Lord Arleigh, “‘neyer !’’ “Tassure you of my deepest sympathy,” said the earl.. “Itis astrange history.” “Yes, anda sad fate,” sighed Lord Arieigh. cannot understand my story entirely. full explanation you might fairly ask me why I married with this drawback. I did not know of it, but my wife believed. I did. We were both most cruelly deceived, it does not matter now. She is condemned to a loveless, joyless life; so’'am I. With a wife beautiful, loving, young, I must lead a most solitary existence—I must $e0,my name die out for want of heirs—I must see my race almost extinct, my life passed in repining and misery, my heart broken, my days without sunshine. I repeat that it is a sad fate.” ; “It is, indeed,” agreed the earl—‘‘and such a strange one. Are you quite sure that nothing ean be done to remedy it?” “Quite sure,” was the hopeless reply. “I ean hardly understand the need for separation, seeing that the wife herselfis blameless.” E “In this case it is unavoidable” “May I, without seeming curious, ask tion ?” said the earl. : “Certainly, assmany as you like’ Hi “You can please -yourself about answering it,” observed the earl; and then he added, “Tell me, is it a case Of insanity?) Hasyourwife any hereditary tendency to anything of that kind ? No,” replied Lord Arleigh ;: it is nothing: of that description. My wife is to me perfect in body and mind; I can add nothing to that.” “Then your story is a marvel; I do not—I cannot understand it, Still I must say that, unless there is something far deeper and moreterrible than I can imagine, youhave done wrong to part from:your wife. ; “IT wish I could think so, Bat my doom is! fixed, and no matter howelong J live; or she lives, it can never be altered.” “My story is a sad one,” obseryed Lord, Mount- dean ; “but itis notsosadas yours. I married when | I was quite “You anting a you @ ques- oung—married against.my. father’s wish, and without his. consent. I'he lady I loved was like your own; she was below me in position, but in Boe Bg else. She was the daughter of a clergyman, a lady of striking beauty, good educa- tion and manner. Ineed nat trouble you by telling 18 how it came about, I married her against my ather’s wish; he was:in Italy at. the, time for his health—he had been there indeed for some years. I married her privately; our secret was. well kept. Some time after our marriage I received. a telegram stating that my father was dying, and wished to see | me, At that very time we were expectin e birth of what we hoped would be.a.son and. heir... But I was anxious that my father should. see my wife before he died. She assured mé that,the journey would not hurt her, that no eyil conse- quence would ensue; and as [ longed intensely for my father to see her, it was arranged that we should go together. A few hours of the journey passed happily-enough, and then my poor wife was taken. ill, Heaven pardon me because of my youth, my ignorance, my inexperience! I think, sometimes, that I might have se ; but itis impossible to tell. We stopped at own called Castledine, and TI drove to ere were -races,,.or b - the neighbor- ild not accommio- vyho was a. good Sa- ase; my. child was was notason and hood, date us. [ maritan; he took us i born, and my wife die ‘ neir, as we had hoped t be, but_a. little daughter, fair as her mother. Ah! Lord Arleigh, you have had your troubles; [haye had mine. My wife was buried at Castledine—my beautiful young wife, whom I loved so dearly. I left my child, under the doctor’s care, at nurse, having arranged to pay so much per annum for her, and intending when returned to England totake her home to Wood Lyn- ton as my heiress. My father, cotttrary to the yer- diet of the physicians, lingered for about three years. Then he died, and I became Ear] of Mount- dean. The first thing I did was to hurry to Castle- dine. Can you imagine my horror when I found that all trace of my child was lost? The poor doc- tor had met with some terrible death, and the wo- man who had charge of. my little one had left the neighborhood. Can you imagine what this blow was tome? Sinee then my life has been spent in one unceasing effort to find my daughter.” ©-i thought that m could ever find her. Her husband, it appeared, had been guilty of crime. My opinion is that the poor woman fied in shame from the neighborhood where she was known, and that both she and my dear child are dead.” ; Mars seems most probable,” observed Lord Ar- eigh. ' “If IT ecould arrive at any certainty as to her fate,” said the earl, “I should be a happier man. I haye been engaged to my cousin Lady Lilly Gordon for four years, but I cannot make up my mind to marry until I hear something certain about my daughter.”’ CHAPTER XXXIV. MADALINE VISITS MARGARET, ‘Winston House was prettily situated. The house stood in the midst of charming grounds. There was a magnificent garden; full of flowers, full of fragrance and bloom; there was.an orchard filled with rich ripe fruit. broad meadow-land where the cattle grazed, where daisies and oxslips grew. To the left of the house was a large shrubbery, which opened on to a wide carriage-drive leading to the high-road. The house was an old red-brick build- ing, in no particular style of architecture, with large oriel windows and a square porch. The rooms were large, lofty, and well lighted:» Along the western side of the house ran a long terrace called the western terrace; there the sun appeared to shine brightest, there tender. plants’ flourished, there tame white doves came to be fed and a pea- cock walked in majesty; from there one heard the distant rush of the river. There Lady Arleigh spent the greater part of her time—there she wore her gentle life away. Three years had elapsed, and no change had come to her. She read of her husband’s sojourn in Scotland. Then she read in the fashionable intelligence that he had gone to Wood Lynton, the seat of the Har) of Mountdean. He remained there three days, and then went abroad. Where he was now she did not know;,doubtless he was traveling from one place to: another, wretched, unhappy as she was her- self. ; The desolate, dreary life had begun to’pray upon her at last. She had fought againstit: bravely for some timé—she had tried to live down her sorrow; but it was growing too strong for her—the weight of it was wearing her life away. Slowly but surely she began to fade and droop. At first it was but a failure in strength—a little walk tired her, the least fatigue: -or .exercise seemed too much for her. Then, still more slowly,the exquisite bloom faded irom the lovely face, a weary languor shone in the dark-blue eyes, the crimson lips lost their color. Yet Lady Arleigh grew more beautiful as she grew more fragile. Then all appetite failed her. XG Byrton declared that she ate nothing. She might have led a different life—she might have gone into society—she might have visited and entertained guests. People knew that Lady Arleigh was .separated from her husband; they knew also that, whatever might have been the cause of separation, it had arisen from no fault of hers. She would, in spite-of her strange. position, have been welcomed with open arms by the whole ‘neighborhood; but she was sick with mortal sor- sow—life had not a charm for her. She had no words for visitors—she had no wish left ‘for enjoyment; just to dream her life away was all she cared for. The disappointment was so keen, so- bitter, she could not overcome it. Death would free Norman from all burden—would free him‘from this tie that must be hateful to him. Death was-ho-foe to be met and fought with inch by inch; he was rather a friend who was to save her fromthe embarrassment of living on—a friend who would freeher husband from the effects of his terrible mistake. When'her strength began to fail her, when she grew languid, feeble, fragile, there was no sustain- ing power, no’longing for life, no desire to combat grim death; no hopful looking for the return of her old buoyancy. Slowly, gradually, surely, she was fading away, after the manner of a bright flower deprived of sunshine and dew. ' Madaline: had never sent for her mother, not knowing whether Lord Arléigh would like it; but she had constantly written to her, and had forward- ed money to her. She hadsent her more than Mar- garet Dornham was willing to accept, Another thing she had done—she had most carefully re- frained from saying one word to her mother as to the eause of her separation from her husband. In- deed, Margaret Dornham had no notion of the life that. her well-beloved Madaline was leading. -Ithad been a terriblestruggle for Margaret to give her up. “I might as well have let her go back years zo to those to whom she belonged,” she said to herself, “as let her go now.” Still, she~stood in great awe ofthe Duchess of Hazlewood. who seemed to her one of the grandest ladies in all England. and when the duchess that. s selfish of herto stand in her daughter’s light, Margaret gave way and let hergo. Many times, after she had part- ed with her, she felt inclined to open the oaken box with brass clasps ,and see,what the papers in it con- tained, buta nameless fear came over her. She did not dare to do what she had not done earlier. Madaline had constantly written. to-her, had told her of her lover, had dese¢ribed Lord Arleigh over and over again to her. On the eve of her wedding- day she had written again; but after that fatal mar- ‘riage-day she had not told her secret. Of what use would it be to make. her mother even more unhap- py than she was—of what avail to tell her that the dark and terrible shadow of her father’s crime had fallen over.her young life, blighting it also ? Of all her mother’s troubles, she knew this would be the greatest, so she generously refrained from naming it. . There was no need to tell her patient, long-suffering, unhappy mother that which must prove like a dagger in her gentle heart. So Marga- ret Dornham: had-one gleam of sunshine in her wretched life.. She believed that the girl she had loved so dearly was unutterably happy. She had fend the deseriptions of Lord Arleigh with tears in 1er eyes.. a “That is how girls: write of the men they love,” shesaid, ‘My Madaline loves. him,” Madaline had written to her when the ceremony was over. She had no one to make happy with her news but .her distant mother. Then some days passed before she heard again—that did not seem strange. There was of course the going home, the change of scene, the constant occupation. Mada- line would write when she had time. At the end of a week she heard again; and then it struck her that the letter was dull, unlike one written by a happy bride—but of course she must be mistaken— why should not Madaline be happy. After that the letters came regularly, and Mada- line said that the greatest pleasure she had lay in helping her mother. She said that she intended to make her a certain allowance, which she felt quite sure would be continued to her after her death, should that event precede her mother’s; so that at last, for the weary-hearted woman, came an inter- yal of. something, like, contentment. Through Madaline’s bountyshe was able to remove from her close lodgings in-town to a pretty cottage in the Oey: There she had a glimpse of content. After'a time her heart yearned to see the daugh- ter of her adoption, the one sunbeam of her life, and she.wrote to that effect: ao “T will come to you,” wrote Madaline in reply, “if you will promise faithfully to make no difference between me andthe child Madaline who:used to eome home from school years ago.” - Margaret promised,- and Madaline, plainly dressed. went to see her mother. It was sweet, after those long weary months of humiliation and despair, to lay her head on that faithful breast and hear whispered words of loye and affection. When the warmth of their first greeting was over, Marga- ret was amazed at the change in her child. Mada- line had grown taller, the girlish, graceful figure had developed into a model of perfect womanhood. The dress that she wore became her so well that the change in her marvelous face amazed her the most; it was so wonderfully beautiful; so fair, so pure, so spirituel, yetit had so strange a story writ- ten upon it—a story she could neither read nor understand. It was not a happy face. The eyes were shadowed, the lips firm, the radiance and ightness that had distinguished her were gone; re were patience and resignation instead. How changed you are, my darling!” said Mar- aret, as’ she looked at her. ‘‘Who would: haye poooe girl would grow into a tall, } stately, beautifullady, dainty and exquisite? What did Lord Arleigh say to your coming, my dar- ling? “He did not say anything,” she replied, slowly. “But was henot grieved to lose you?” “Lord Arleigh is abroad,” said Madaline, gently. “T do mot expect that he will return to England just yet.” ‘*Abroad!’’> repeated ' Margaret, in amazement. ees my darling, how is it that you are not with im?’ “T could not go,” she replied, evasively. “And you love your husband very much, Mada- line, do you not?” inquired Margaret. "Yos, love him with all my heart.and soul,” was the earnest reply. ; “Thank Heaven that my darling is happy!” said Margaret. ‘I shall find everything easier to bear now that I know that.” } [TO BE CONTINCED.] Pleasant Paragraphs. My First Experience, With Snow-Shoes. One crisp December morning I saw from my seat by a bright fire, a man making his easy and rapid way on snow-shoes across the fields. There seem- ed so much of the ‘poetry of motion” in this mode of traveling, skimming the surface of the light snow, apparently making as, little impression as a bird, that I at once was possessed with the desire to ———— eee 88S8SS==S—_—0—090E ee Se ; a a id VE 5 ;| declaring that he could stand no further confine-| “Yes, she lived at a little place called Ashwood. I| pair of shoes were found, and I mentally resolved ' i4 Tro a T. a, : : ment. Eyen then Lord Mountdean would not hear advertised for her, I offered large rewards, but I | that no “chores” shauld prevent my vankiie trial ~ WOODSIDE, i. I.. of his going. haye never gleaned the least néws of her; no one | of them on the morrow. Pleasing fancies of the majestic appearance I should make gliding.over the fleecy snow, banished sleep fronwmy eyelids that night, and I was: early astir preparing for the start. Ignoring the empty water-tanks and the depleted wood-pile, neglecting the hens, cattle, ete, T was enabled to make an early start. I got away in su- perb style, making’as rapid progress as a hog upon the ice, and feeling as though there were a section of plank-walk attached to my feet; I pressed awk- wardly on until one foot catching in another, in- stantly treated me to.a refreshing plunge in the nice cool snow. How iniernally,“‘cool”’ it was, though. But I was warmer after the mighty struggle necessary to bring my feet again under me. This was the first disaster, but by no means the last. My falls nowebeeame’ so frequent, and 1 plowed through so much snow with my feet fighting the air that it seemed as if I were fated to accomplish the rest of this pleasure (?) trip wpon my head. At as nearly as I can estimate the nine hundredth and ninety-ninth rescue from a snowy grave, I sat sullenly down. and remoying the now detestable shoes, rose to flounder through the deep snow homeward. I arrived a sadder and hungrier mortal at dinner. Between the hasty mouthfuls, I anathematized the inventor of snow-shoes, now regarding them as a device of the Evil One to lure unsuspecting and ambitious youth to swift destruction. Of course my neglect regarding the: wood-pile, hens, etc., provoked. much angry feminine com- ment, and I was glad when night permitted me to hide my diminished head in the blankets. . M: Barney. Them Tacks. “If you were but a bee, Thy sting would be sweet to me,” This is what Jemima read, half aloud, from Josh- ua’s loving letter, while her little brother stood lis- tening behind the door. “Aha!” thought the lad: “so Josh loves to be stung by bees does he? Al! right; I know what Iwill do; ha! ha! ha! hal’ and he laughed gleefully.. Away .went.the mischievous little rascal, (fully bent on poor Joshua’s destruc- tion), down to the kitchen, where he. proeured some very sharp carpet tacks an‘d a piece of paper, knowing well that Joshua always sat’in the same chair when he visited Jemima, The hour wasnear when Josh usually eame to see Jemima, so she went upto her roomto put on her new dress, to.look well before hemadmirer. “Now is my time,” thought little Billy, for he was on the lookout for her to go, and up he-comes with the paper bristling with the sharp-pointed tacks,. placed them on Joshua’s favorite chair, and stole softlyg3away. Presently Josh entered the house, the lovers met, and the usual greeting followed, ““How do, Joshua?” “How are you, Jemima?” said Josh, fumbling with his fur cap, and moving toward his accustomed seat, with his eyes on his dear love. ‘Oh: how that poetry in your letter about the bee pleased mé, it was so sw——" Her remarks were interrupted by a series 6f ter- rible yells from her visitor: “Oh-auw-uaw-oh-oh!” roared Josh, as He fell on the floor, writhing in agony. , “Heaven and earth! Joshua, what is the matter?” said Jemima, wondering at the white patch on the rear of Joshua’s pants. He did not answer, but with fire in his eyes he flew through the doorway. He eats his meals standing now. ext A Man Who Never Saw a Woman. A Chinese who had been disappointed in mar- riage, and had grievously suffered through women In many other ways, retired with his infant son to the peaks of a mountain!’ range in Kweichoo; ‘to a spot. quite inaccessible to little-footed Chinese women.» i _ He trained his boy to worship the gods, and stand in awe.and abhorrence of the devils; but he never mentioned women to him, always descending the mountains alone:to buy food. At, length; howeyer, the infirmities of age com- pelled him'totake the young man with him to earry the heavy bag of rice. ; ‘ As they were leaving the market town together, the son suddenly stopped short, and, pointing to three approaching objects, eried: “Father, what are those things? Look, look! what are they?” | The father instantly answered with a peremptory answer: “Turn. away your head; they are devils I'tell ye!” The son, in some alarm, turned away, seeingithat the evil things were gazing at him with surprise, from behind their fans. He walked.to the mountain in silence, ate no'sup- per, and from that day lost his appetite, and was afflicted with melancholy, i For some time his puzzled and anxious parent could get.no satisfactory. answer to his “inquiriés : but at length the young man burst out. erying with inexplicable pain: “Qh, father, that tallest devil—that tallest devil. father!’ . Drum and Fife. When about seventeen, the poet Campbell, to- gether with.a couple of friends, played an excellent joke upon a couple of tradesmen in the Trongate of Glasgow. A respectable apothecary, named Fife, had a placard in his window printed in large let- ters, “Ears pierced by A. Fife,” meaning the operation to which young ladies submit for the sake of wearing ear-rings. Fife’s rext door neigh- bor was a spirit dealer, named Drum, and these two shopkeepers were, from. some cause. or other, on bad terms. Tom and his friends struck on an ex- edient for reconciling them; they procured a ong deal board, and painted on it, in flaming eapi- tals, this inseription from * Othello”’—*The spirit- stirring Drum—the ear-piercing Fife.” This they nailed over the contiguous doors, to the great an- noyance of Drum and Fife, and the great amuse- ment of every one else in Glasgow. Preferred Pure Water. _ “Ishould think, your honor,” said an attorney in Judge C’s. court-room, the other morning, as he picked up'the water-pitcher, which sits on the edge of the judicial dais, “I should think, your honor, that you’d get somebody to build a fence around this here pitcher, or else put yourspittoon over on the other side.” **What’s the matter, sir ?” inquired the court. “Matter! Why the outside of the pitcher is all covered with tobacco juice.” “Tt’s a matter of indifference to me, sir.” “Matter of indifference, your honor? Why, it’s filthy!” “I don’t care, sir; neyer water.” Then the attorney sat down and looked indig- nant. A Deaf Man in Charch. An organist, for many years engaged in one of the noted churches of New York city, tells the fol- lowing: A strange man'was acting as sexton. An old gen- tleman who was deaf took his seat in a pew, and produced from his pocket an ear-trumpet of curious shape, and to the dismay of the sexton, raised it to- ward his face. The sexton sprang ito his. side. and said something in a low yoice, whereupon the gen- tleman attempted to raise his trumpet to his ear, and was prevented by the sexton seizing his hand. With increasing voice, he said: , “You mustn’t, sir; you mustn’t blow that horn in here: If you do, I shall be obliged to put you out?” and the good old man, pocketing his bugle, heard — nothing of the service or sermon, The Benefits of Religion. Some pious people were holding a meeting at the 8—n school-house: in Johnson Co.. Neb., and the brethren were ‘telling their various experiences. Brother P. rose.and said: “When I got religion I was in the field making this eourt drinks hay; and, you bet, I made it fly. 3rother R., (who, by the way, was inthe habit of using the phrase “I'll bet a dollar,”) rose and de- liyered himself as follows: Brothers.and sisters: I’ll tell yer what resulted when I got religion, I wasinthe woods splitting rail, and. 'll bet Brother P. adolar that I made the rails fly faster than he did the hay.” SUBSCRIBER. A Curious Marriage. A minister in Germantown, Pa., was lately called on by a young couple to marry them. He at once performed the ceremony, and at its close the bride- groom handed him a $20 note, requesting him to take out $5 for his trouble. When the bridegroom had reeéived his $15 change, the couple departed. After they were gone the minister’s wife asked her husband if he had noticed that the bride had boots on. A suspicion arising in his mind that he had been humbugged, he at once examined the $20 bill, and found it a counterfeit. It afterward turned up that the couple he had wedded were both men. ILL MACE, How May Asked the Blessing. One evening Brother S——, the class-leader in H-—, was absent, from home at tea-time. When Mrs. S—— and the children were seated at the table (on whieh, among other things for the evening meal, were eggs and potatoes); Miss May, an olive plant, aged four years, requested her mother to let her return thanks, Assent being given, she bowed her head very gravely, and said: “Oh, Lord, bless the eggs and potatoes. Amen!’ M. Horace. To P. P. ConTRIBUTORS.—The following MSS. are accepted : ‘Ward’s Troubles ;? ‘Pronouncing Each Syllable ;) *Brown’s Dream,’ ‘A Truthful Bootblack ;’? ‘Emerson’s Boy ;’ Mixture;’ ‘Deacon Kimball’s Grace;’ ‘His Last Cent;’ ‘Pat’s Trials.... . The following are respectfully declined; ‘What It Was;’ ‘Pat De- laney’s Letter;’ ‘Flipps;’ ‘How Brave He Was; ‘Lost Teeth; ‘Preparing for a Storm; “The Reason Why; ‘Won't be Buil- Dozed;’ ‘The Mistake;’? ‘The Tuskaloosa Ghost;’ ‘Serenading{? ‘Little Drops of Whisky;’ ‘A Man in Our Chureh;? ‘Bub Green’s Sparking;’ ‘A Desolate Young Man;’ ‘An Oyster Glutton; ‘That Dog Fido;’? ‘A Tough Jacket:’ ‘A. Scare and a Laugh; ‘Who Is President,’ ‘The Yacht’ ‘Didn’t Want to be Insured; ‘Too Hard of disease So Lord Arleigh took the good advice given to How strange!” said Lord Arleigh, “Did you not | imitate. ; Work, ‘Religious Lad,’ *Baptizing a Darkey’—old; ‘A New a te him and laystill, but on’ the second day he rose, | know the name of the nurse?” After'an arduous search in the neighborhood a | Style; ‘Death Notice.’ ii le ee eee ote eis, ea + - eT e SB