l : er and Wh E. F. BCRIHP, Davxd Adams, William Adams, >I‘rm.tsmcns. \. I‘ ‘ 0):. r "' "’54 9, WII' ’ f “7141? , NEW YORK, COPYRIGHT, 1883, BY BEADLE AND ADAMS. JANUARY 1 9, l 884. One copy, four months, $1.00 Tums IN ADVANFI-I. - One copy, one year, . . 3.00 Two copies, one year, . 51¢) I f “ y is If M ,r 1 i x . ,1 4 .1" 132:2? '1 6%; I, ’ / " 7-“ ‘ lfl I i ' /// "rm’; I ’. (lat (It, i r' (try/ Mamie; .‘ ' V'llafi‘o', [I'l'a’4!.' . ' - A .~ . .y ,. - V " 0‘3" L, '47 ' Vii? , {Ilivtqgoflf’A-J i : :Qlogl m“ \x‘iw . “\n ‘ «\\‘ fall/fl llll A horrified murmur escaped the crowd. as the long, white index-finger pointed out the man in the sealskin ulster! EALSKIN SAM, ‘MWNWV THE SPARKLER; V. WWWW Or, THE TRIBUNAL OF TEN. A TALE OF THE MINES. BY EDWARD L. WHEELER. CHAPTER I. A'!‘ cavsrAi. LAKE. “ HUS!!! not another word! They come at last I" It was a cracked, wheczy sort of voice that uttered the words in a low, cautious tone: two human heads disappeared immediater behind the clump of low- growmg bushes, which afforded concealment for the owners thereof. It was a beautiful moonlit night, in the latter part of August, upon a rolling stretch of prairie, twenty miles to the southeast of Mount St. Helen’s foot:- hills, \Vashingtou Territory, and in the immediate vicinity of a small sheet of water known as Crystal Lake. The moon soared high in thc starr dome of the heavens andsan down a floozl of mo! ow light; upon the picturesque landscape, which made ohjrcis dis- cernible at a great. distance. A strong but invigor- ating breeze swept down from the northwest, and fanned the Vcrdurc oi’ the prairie Get an into a vista of rippling billows, bringing upon ifs; wings an ( :- quisito odor of mountain flowr rs and foliage, which tended to lull th ~ scnScs into reposn, A hundred yards away lay the rzichry sheet of frystal-likc water, sparkling beautifully in the moon- ight. Across this lakclct, nearly opposite the place where the two heads had disappeared, was a large modern resid )ncc, izit [titr‘d near the valcr‘s edge. from the chimney of which acol:im.1 of smoke could be seen curling upward, so clear and pure was the atmosphere. Crossing the. lakclct. from in the directim of the mansion, came a small row-boat containing two per- sons—a. man and a woman. The woman was rowing, whih the man sat facing her, smoking a cigar, and conversing between occa- sional puffs at the \vced. As they neared the northwestern shore. the ap- pearance of the twain bccaine morn noticeable, from the fact that both were young anzl handsome. The fair one who skillfully manipulated the oars was not more than seventeen years-of age, and \ 115 formed in nature’s happiest mold. She was attired in a neat-fitting costume, and wore a bunch of flowers at her throat. , Ilcr well—poised head was innocent of covering, except fer a wealth of sunny hair which fell in rip- plcs to her waist; her face was decidedly pretty—- not a face that an artist would go in costumes over, but with that indcfiuable something in features and expression which always interests, then cap- tivatcs. The man who sat facing this fairpilot was of good figure, and evidently about twenty-live years of age. His face was that of a haughty, self-willed person yet there were softening lines about the eyes and mouth, which gave him something of a dignified and noble appearance. He wore a mustache and goatce, and his hair was cropped close to his head. Ills attire consisted of knee‘boots, corduroy pants and jICkcl, and white flannel shirt, thrown open at the throat. A round sill: cap with tassel sat upon his well-shaped head: a dark-blur) cloak was thrown over one shoulder, and a belt at his waist contained asiugl \ revolver of the Smith 61: \Vcsson pattern, and a hunting-knife. That the two were not on the best of terms was evident from the scowl upon the young man's face, as the boat glided near the shore. “ You will regret it, Sadie!" he said bitterly. “ You will b.‘ sorry in Hill", that you refused my offer.” “I think not, Mr. Lee!" the girl responded, as she dipped the waters but lightly with her oars. “ I have 1n-verthrni:ht of such a thing as marrying you, al- though you have persisted i;1 your attcntions. Dur- iig your stay at father‘s ranch l have endeavored to treat you with respect, but. as for becoming your wife, it is out of the question.” \ “ I am not so S‘ll‘ ‘ of that l" he answered doggedlv. “ Do you know, I have mad ‘ up my mind to possess you, whether you cons-Ht or not?” “ Indeed, sir, you talk vcry st ‘angclyl” and a shade of pallor came upon the girl’s ace. “ If a lady refuses a gentleman, that 'urcly ought. to end th e matter.” “ But it Foes not always. When an honorable man makes a nameless young woman an offer of marriage, the young woman shonll have the good sense to accept without dcmur. Do you not really think so?" ” Most assuredly I do not ,’ Because a man comes of a good family. and holds a licutenant‘s position in the army, I fail to see that it signifies a girl should throw herself away upon him. Besides, Mr. Lee. I do not understand what you mean by your reference to a ‘namcltgss young woman.’ You can- not mean the slur for me Without your intent is meant to be insulting.” “ I do mean it for you!" bending toward her with flashing eyes, “and it is not insulting you at that. Can you coliscicntiously refer to your parentage without a feeling of modification?" A rill of color swept over llt‘l‘ face. to be immedi- ately succeeded by a shade of pallor, which told how (lr-eply his words had affected her. “ I do not uxnlcrstand!“ she faltcred, allowing the Oars to t ‘ail in the water, causing the boat to move more slowly. “You do understanl! You know full well that you are not Bartlcy Bryant's daughter, and that he was never married. You also know that he has hopes of leaving this vicinity soon, and when he goes he hopes to take you with him as his bride. Vhether he knows of your .‘entage or not I am not prepared to say, but I ’now that a cloud ob- scures the brightness of your life~you have a secret and are stnigigling hard to keep it. Stop! Do not interrupt me. know even more. I know that when Bartley Bryant came to this country last Win- ter he found you perishing upon the rairies with a babe in your arms. You he took to is new home, and it was mutually agreed that you should be known as his own daughter. But what became of your child?” Her face was averted. It was white. It was rigid, as if frozen in its ex- pressron of despair. Her dusky eyes had a wild, ap caling look, the interpretation of which was ex- quisite agony of heart and soul. “ What became of your child?" Lieutenant Lee rev peated, malice unmistakable in his tone. “ It died!" she replied. “ It was dead when I was found. Would to God I had been dead too!” Her words, tremblingly uttered. seemed to indi- cate that she would have felt a relief in tears, but; they came not. The same stony look of agony clung to her face. He gazed at her pityingly for a moment; then his expression hardened. ‘ You have been deceived !" he said, his gaze v..n- dering to the shore, against which the boat was by this time rubbing. “ 1 had a better (pinion of Bart- ley Bryant than that. Sadie, tell me the stoxv of your past life, won’t you, pl aso?“ v She shuddercd, at; if a frightful vision had arisen before her. " No, no!" she gasped. ask me to do that!“ “ Why not?“ “ IEccause— I could not explain to you, nor to any one. “ Ytu shall explain. however—I swear to that! I love you, Sadie, and I am determined you shall be mine. OnCe I make a res«:lutiou, I never rest until it has been fulfilled. I know two things which. no doubt, will surprise you. Firstly, you are married to aman whom you loathe and you think you love an- other man——let me see; his name is Walt r L‘cut, is it not?" She gave him a withering look, which made him feel ill at ease. "I understand!” she said. “ You are r-vcn less a gentleman than I thought you were. You have been guilty of intercepting my letters!" "‘ Tobe truthful. I have, in a. couple of instances. My infatuation for you had become so urea . that I was bound to learn whom you did really love. and what of your past life I could. Pray forgive. for my iiiteutlonsitoward you are of the most honorable char— acter. Procure a divorce from this other man. who- ever he may be, go with me as my loving wife, and —-I Will restore to you your child." “ I cannot do that—never She started, turned whiter, and gazed at him sus- piciously. “ Sir! what do you mean? ’ shc cricd. rcproachful- fully. “ My baby—my sweet, innocent child is deal 3" “ You are wrong. The child is alive and wellml can vouch for that: and you can thank me for the knowledge, as Hartley Bryant would never have told you." Oh, sir! you are deceiving me. are 1‘ “I lell you I am not! Marry me—now—to-night —and etc the sun has twice arisen above yonder moonlit horizon, you shall see your child I" “ No, no! 1 cannot do that! 1 cannot marry you !" “ You can—you m lot .’” he cried, positively, as he arose to a standing position in the boat. “Child or no child, you shall marry me, and this very night!“ “ I will not—nerer I” She, too, arose, drawingiher figure up to its fullest hight, while her face and eyes showed an expression of desperation. “ You refuse to marry me, then?” Lee said, a tone of trium h now in his voice and demeanor. “ Yes, Larry eel Villain thatI believe you to be, I would die a hundred deaths rather than marry you or any other man except the one who tome is all in all on earth l" she cried. passionately. “Then. if you are so positive. let me ask you to listen: You shall be mine whether you will or no,‘ and your own acknowledged confession of love for this other man—this Walter Bent—has set the seal of doom upon him. Come! you must go with me. Boys, all ready!" He leaped toward her, and caught her in his strong embrace. In a moment he was ashore. Two rough—looking fellows sprung from the clump of bushes, near at hand, and with cords securely bound the struggling girl, and then gagged her to stifle her cries. A whistle brought a third rufflan from a neighbor- in;r arroyo, with four saddlz-horses. In a few minutes the party were mounted, and galloping away toward the mountains, Lieutenant Lee bearing his fair captive in his arms, while he oc- casionally looked anxiously back, as if fearing pur- suit. But none was given. I know you CHAPTER II. AN INCIDENT AT THE “(:REMONIA." “ BOLLIVAR BULLWIIACK, gentlemen.” The speaker was ever 51): foot in his much top- boots, and judging from his extraordinary breadth of shoulder and chest, and massivcuess of limb, must have weighed fully two hundred and fifty or sixty pounds. His, too, was an iron frame. that of a Hercules, whom any ordinary man would hesitate to face in a >an'1uinary battle of strength. His face, broad and massive, in aspect was villainous: features and expression bore the impress of a coarse nature and ot‘ dcbased passions. The mouth was large and sensual: the. nose was flattened. and bore a serd-W'u't upon its end: the eyes were small. dark. and possessed of a cunning gleam that but added to the owner's repllingap- pcarance. From eyes to throat the face was cover- ed with a stubble of jettv heard of two weeks” growth; the hair was of the purest flax’cu hue. and stood in all directions over the unusually large cranium. | Hat he wore none. and his garments were of bark- tauned and greasy buckskin: the belt at his waist was well supplied with weapons. With a flourish intended to create an Impression, he had bursr into the “ Crcmonia gaming and drink- ing parlor," at l‘lunki-Dori mining-camp. and stood glaring majestically around him, as if his arrival was a matter of special importance and honor to the luflra‘iu/e' of the place. The (‘rcmonia was not the only establishment of its kind in the flourishing young city of I‘Illllkl'DOIl, but it was by far the most popular and pretentious, catcring as a gcnwral thing to the better class of the inhabitants and of the large floating population. It was a large, twostory shanty. The first tloor, the parlor befcrc mentioned, was fitted up in a style of splendor rarely found in places of its class in tle far Northwest. A finely‘arrauged bar occupied a. space near the street entrance; card—tables of mahogany, and chairs to match, were scattered about the room. Half a dozen girls flitted about, engaged in serving beverages to the thirsty pilgrims who sat at the tables, making an attractive feature to the scene. attired as they were in pink dresses. white aprons and caps. At tho further mid of the room, upon a slightly elevated latform, was a private box, or 0 en office. ocuupied yawoman, to whom all cash or drinks or cigars was borne by the waiters. Such was the Creinonia. as seen by Bollivar llull- whack. The room was well filled by miners. . s and here and there a traveler who had droppe in t' “see. the elephant.“ Two smooth-faced, blonde young men. in spotless white duck, presided behind the bar: and all in all. the Cremonia was by far the most elegant place. of resort anywhere in the Nor‘west. “ Bollivar Bullwhack, gentlemen!" The words of the giant were heard in every art of the room, and caused more than a few of t lose present to pause and take a look at this new self- mtroduced customer. This notice seemed to please the giant, for he at vauced among the tables with a grin of approba- tion. " Yas! Bollivar Bullwhack am 1, me gentle zephyrs!“ he rcpeatcd. waving one huge fist majes- tically. “Thcr riotous. l'lIIK-IIOSt'd rampage from Kalamazamvthe dynamic dust-uberry from Devil‘s Delight. Out upon a ie'.:'lar first-class hurrah am I. an' ther‘s music. in thcr air. you bell Let me see! Let me ponder} Out of “hose nose shall I tmak the first inspiratii.’ antlem uv harmony?" His gaze. swept over the sea of faces. rapidly, as if he were scan-hing for some particular person on whom to swoop down. He had not Settled the matter fully in his mind however, whcn ht: felt a tap upon his shoulder, and \l'llf‘v‘lt‘tl around to find himself confronted by one of the suave bartenders. " You will oblige the Ill‘trril'lt tress. sir. by making a little less noise." the mixer of drinks said. 0- litely. “ We do not allow any disturbance here 1 at may annoy our patrons.“ “ Oh! we don’t. ch?“ The giant stared at the man a momcnt. as if amaZed—then burst into a coarse, bar king sort of a laugh. . “ Wa'il! waall via :1 ."‘ he snorted. " Ef vou aiu t a party plum. I‘ll cry pea-knurkle! See hyer. my daisy, who sent ye beer ter breathe that astrmi~ Bright 8 mm are jingliug. ' Warm c ieeks are tingling ,With wild Ilife’s excitement—shake hands, pard, again Charge, brave pards, chargel wa r-cries. , . Sec the fierce painted fiends, with demoniac eyes; Downl they dash like the. tempest upon our brave 3am — A We‘ll shout victory, ormeet in the great silent land! CHORUS—Mustangs are. bounding, “’ar-crics are sounding, The crack of the rifle is heard here and there; Bowics are gleaming, ‘ Mustangs are screaming, Arrows and bullets fly thick through the a ’ , Meme lim, ' * The Black Sheep of Bismarck. BY JOS. BADGER, JR., AUTHOR or “non’ WEST NICK,” “KING on THE RUSTLERS,” ETC; Hear the far-ringing CHAPTER XIII. THE PROFESSOR BLI'FFS AND Is BLUFFED. ‘ “His wife? The wife of Lloyd Pennington?” “Yes: and I repeat it, warm lac/.1!” emphatically uttered Professor King Smith, riveting his little pig- cycs on the pale. startled countenance of the young lady. who seemed partially stunned by his recent (lis<:'losiii'c. What;- washer portion of the secret—of the mys- tery which seemed to inwrap this man who was callcd Lloyd Pennington? What was her object in sucking him so earnestly? Doubtless a. friendly one, since .s 19 was so swift to defend his name when at- tacked, but what was the precise nature of the con- nection between them? Such were the questions that flashed across the busy brainof the professor as he stood gazing,r keen- lv upon the youngI lady, waiting for licrto recover u from the shock w icli s abrupt speech had given my. _ , ‘ . ‘ “ Married! A wife—and living! I never dreamed of that!” . , . v - Mechanically the broken sentences .dropped from her It ps. Her eyes drooped before, that steady. gaze, her countenance became deeply suffusedher fin- gersf twmed together with a degree of nervousness and indecision such as she had not displayed before since that )eculiar interview 0 ened. The litt 0 eyes of the pro essor began to pro- trude and to sparkle with a sudden access of light, for he began to believe he had caught the clue he desired to find. I , “ My dear young lady,” he said in his most unc— tuous voice as he rew nearer to l edea, his stumpy hands reaching out to clasp hers. “ Do not give way to grief—do not suffer 'our gentle soul to be crushed into the mire of utter despondency b ' the discovery of this man’s shameful treachery. 'llhis man ,i did 'I pay? IItather this demon in the the guise of a human we ng As his hands touched hers, Medea Pennington gave a. little cry of shivering disgust, starting back with a regal haughtiness in tone and look that came so un- expectedly as to almost cast the dumpy professor into another spasm. _“ How dare you, sir! Oblige me by keeping your distance. Make another attem it to touch my hand, and our interview is at an end oreverl”. “Your pardon—most humbly I beg your ardon, ina’am," he gin‘gled, bowing low, his hant s tum- bling over and over each other. “ I meant no harm, intended no insult, I assure vou, ma’ain; just the contrary. believe me. I more y wished to express my heart felt sympathy after a fatherly fashion, for that organ, ma‘am. gave a mighty bound and a sym- pathetic throb as it beheld—~flgurativcly 5 making, of course. my dear lady—your proud heatll bowed down with grief at the terrible discovery that the cruel demon whom you seek has another wife, whose prior claiin— Alicm! If she hasn't gone crazy, 1 m a howling,r liar right from head—quartersl" A}; the final sentence burst from his lips in a. ludicrous sort of an aside, Professor King: Smith jumped back with a haste that came near landing nm on Ins branrcnds, his pop-eyes protruding, his face turning crimson, his flabby li; s working like the pcndulous muzzle of awearicd horse. For, in- stead of sinking upon his manly bosom in an excess of I‘Tlel’, the icy barriers ivinr: way before his lion- cst sympathy, so touc ting y expressed Mcdca. Pennington burst into a fit of mcrrv laughter, de- spite her utmost efforts to the contrary. ' _ N oting his thorough discomfiturc, and rcallv fear- ing he would be cast. into anothcr of those curious spasms. Medea controlled her risiblcs by a desperate :3 over to his victorious opponent. icifort, saying: stages, commit murder—anything to add to then" , her evil hquand meantyou some mischief, made me rdon, Mr. Smith, for my ill—timed “ I be our . g y really could not help it. Your words explosion. but and looks—" V q "No apologies, ma’am, are necessarv, stlfijy in- terposed the dumpy little professor, injured dignity showingin every word and look. “ N o dmibt- I ave you ample cause for men-intent by my uucout . en- deavors to ex 58 my sympathy for the dcvflish duplicity whio that demon has— ’ i c “ One moment, sir.” she interposed, checking further speech by an impcrious wave of 1101‘ white hand. ," l f I comprehend your incaninr, you are sadly deceiving yourself. Without further preamble, will you tell me just what you fancy I am to Lloyd Pennington?” M o “ It is easier to say what you are not . a httlo stifllv. “ As I had the honor to inform youhruy sister is his wife. As the ceremony which united them took place years a};o~whcu you could have been nothing more than a child—vou must soc that she has a prior claim; that she is his wife, while you are not.” . _, " My dear sir, have I advanced any such claim? “ But I inferred—” _ “ That I wassccking fora man who first deccivcd, then deserted inc—precisely. It was that cxt route livclincss of imagination on your part, coupled with the fact that I had not given you the slightest cause for thinking such a thing, that made me burst out laughing.” _ “Then what in—why are you so eager to find llllfl Lloyd Pennington?” almost snarled the prot‘cssor. “ When I can recognize your right to ask that question, I will answer you: not before,” was the ‘ cold response. “ You sought this mtcrvxcw, not I. . I am ready to listen to what you may have to say, but beyond the simple fact that I am very anxxous to find Lloyd Pennington, if still in the land of the : living, and am willing to pay any reasonable reward ? to the one who can bring us face to face, I have ~ nothing to divulge. If you are willing to speak out plainly on these terms, do so. If not, I must beg of you to excuse my remaining any longer." “Very \vcll. nin'am. I u as afraid of causing you ain, and under that dread I have bungled, I suppose. ‘ut now I’ll be my usual self—a business man, pure and sim )le. ‘ “,As I hid the. honor to inform you.I overheard your conversation with Monté Jim on the train. The mention of that .'name deeply interested me, as you may imagine. and instead of continuing my journey home where loved ones were impatiently awaiting my arrival, I stepped off here; and at once communi- catcd with my sister, spurred thereto by accident- ally overbearing a conversation between your cou- sin and his friend, Mr. Frank Lisle, which touched on the same subject. ‘ , , “ 1 told my sister all I had heard, and she, thinking promise to seek you out and place you on your guard against him and his dangerous arts. I was highly unwilling to mix in the affair, more espe- cially as she still held me to my old oath to take no positive steps against Lloyd Pennin ten to avenge her wrongs, but in the end. I yielded, and here I am.’ ' ' He paused to catch his breath. gazing fixedly into the pale. composed untenance of Medea Penning- ton, as though eXpec ing some comment from her lips. Then, as none came, he added, hurriedly: “ ‘he bade me tell 'you this much, and to add: Tell her to cease hunting for Lloyd Pennington, im- lcss she wishes misfortune to fall u ‘10)) her head as heavily as it has descended on mine! Bid her re. turn to her home, and forget that such a (lemon in human shape ever drew the breath of life!” “ 1 will never do that, while I live, or until I am fully assured that Lloyd Pennington is dead and in the grave. I have taken a solemn oath to find him and make full restitution for the past—t0 lift a cruel staiirfrom his name which it has borne unjustl for many long years. This I have sworn, and lywill make. my oath good, if the performance lies within the scope of mortal powerl” A harsh, unpleasant laugh broke from the flabby lips. , . “ What does one stain more or less matter? Even if you erase that one, ten thousand equally as black will remain.” . “Possibly. You may be speaking the truth, or you may be falsifying, for might I can tell~—"~ " Do you wish me to make oath to my words?" “No; I. have neither the ri ht. nor them-sire to ask anything of the sort. Nor (I0 I mean any offense by what I say. You must bear in mind that you are an entire stranger to ,me, and of course I can’ know nothing concerning your honesty or truthful- ness. But: you declare yourself lhowlcndly encu- of Lloyd Pennington. and that is equivalent to at - mltting that you would not mint. his character any lighter than you can help. osnibly you exaggerate its darkness.” ' “That would be impossible!" succrcd the profes- sor. ' “ Let it go at that, then." was the cold res use. “ Tell me the name Lloyd Pennington now mars, if not that which rightfully lit-longs to him. 'l‘t ~11 me where and how I may find him; thcn llulllt‘ your price, and it shall be paid, if it is not wholly bcyond the bounds of reason.” “ I warn you. for the last time—” “ And once for all I say: yourfivarnings are worse gliai'i,tiseless. I must and will find Lloyd Penning- on; i " Then 11!; on your wraps and come with me. You shall cam for yourself what manner of person you are seeking.” “ Go with you—where?” “ To the home of my sister.” Medea. started, gazing fixedly into the f ace of the fat professor, a. sudden suspicion seizing upon her mint . Something told her that there was a. cunning snare concealed cneatli this blunt proposal; that all along this man, had been playing a part; but for what? What ends could be hope to serve by decoy- ing her away from the hotel? In whose interests could he be working, if her suspicions were true, for surely it could not be wholly on his own account? Keenly. if covertly, Professor Kine Smith watched the workings of her mobile countenance, reading her doubts and sus icions almost as readily as though they had been t icre impressed in visible lcttcrs. An amused smile came ovor his face as he spoke: “ May I ask what grounds you have for thus doubting me?” Medea started, being takrn by surprise. at having her inmost thoughts thus rcndily interpreted, but. then her cool wit rallied, and her rcply came prompt and unmistakable: ' “ You say you hate Lloyd Pennington. Hating him, you would not like good fortune to ovcrtakt‘ him. I have said that I am trying to tiring this to hint—«to find and make restitution of what llt‘ was robbed of in the days gone by—to lift a black cloud from his name. 'ou have. rcncatcdlv warned me to give up the search and cease my offer ts to discover him. I believe that, failing in convincing me, you m *an to try othcr means of roiling ntv purpose." “ That [mean to take you prisoner and kecp vou thus, until death puts an Iinsurinountablc barrier between you and the object of vour quion ic Quest ‘2” laughed the professor. “ Mv ( car Miss Pcnniugton what a frightful ocrc you neusl bclicve me! Really" I feel most highly: complimentedI“ ‘ ’ Her face flushed hour. as his mocking laugh gur- glcd out of his fat throat. for. now that it was 'put into plain words, she could not avoid realizin‘r how far-fetched was her idea. I “If my suspicions wronged you, I ask your p. rdon,” she_satd, frankly, adding in a. milder (one: ‘fiou can give me .the information I suck. Why will you not. do so? \Vbat ncccssit y is there for Ill-U to seek out your sister?" _ “ Simpl because that is her will, and mine as wcll, if 5'Oll.,stl I' refuse to lot the (loud past rest in its grave.’ ‘ ‘ ‘; I have already answered that part of the mat tcr." ‘ Very well. Then there is only thoonu altcrnntivc. If you are determined to kum ' all, you must. call on my sister. I have said all I intend Asavin 1'. My lips are forever scaled, by an oath to the 'ful as sacrcd as the one you plead as an excuse for not rctrcut- mg from your search for Lloyd Pennington. If you will come. with me, all right. If not, I wash 'ntv hands of the whole affair, and will start for Mnndan in the morning. Please give me your decision my dear ‘oung lady." ' 3 V here is youngster?" “Ail: home, waiting for my return with or withOut “ You know what I mean," impatiently. does she livo? How far from her F? - elsewhere?” f‘ In town, and only a few moments’ walk from this place.” _ For a few moments Medea stood in a. reflective at— titude, seeming to (lclibc ‘atcly weigh the pros and cons; then her head lifted, and her voice came cl air and decisive: I will go with you on one condition.” ‘V And that condition?" ‘ That my consul bears me. compauv." “Good—evening, Miss Pennington.""coldlv uttered figg‘yii'ofcssor, bowing low, and starting toward the “ Stop!" cried Medea, swiftlymoviug between him and the door. “ \Vlmt do you mean bv that ? ’ “ to bid you good-evening, since you absolutclv decline my offer. Possibly you may find sumo oi heir pt-rson wliocau place you on tho ti‘hclfof Llovd l’ctr ninglon. If not, blame. yourself, not. inc or iniuo One»: more, good’cvcniugl" . “ I\_ot yci l" and the young woman. pale but with glowing cyes, placed herself with but-k against tho door. contrcntmgthc man wit h tlt‘Sln‘l'fll c rcsolut it :n‘ ‘Zlou do not leave this room until we ha ‘ rived at some sort of an undt-rstnndin'. lt’ \‘ull mean honestly by me, why are vou so stiitnrqv‘flp, posed to permitting my crusin lo bear us clinipnnv to the house where you say your sister, the lawful wife of Lloyd Penning: m, is awaiting your return V’ , “\Vhero In town, or HP- Aharsh, bitter laugh esc‘t )ed the man hi' it"! ‘ . I ‘ . i . - , . .5 ll eyes filling With a reddish liglit, his flabby lip; con- f ,‘a palcgums. . , . . “ You demand my reasons fcl‘ nct accepting the company of. your cousin, Alva;- enliington? .V‘ll, since it is a lad who asks me the question, I wtll ro- plv, and frank y. . .“My lips are forever scaled concerning the past, as I had the honor of saying bchrc'but it they were not, I would new them up with a. ret dict wirelu-foro I would do anythin to publish her and my shame to the world! As n. la y, we can trust you, wind} once your solemn Word is fledged. But your cousin—ho is a drunkard, a gum Icr, a bubbling fool! Lt't him give a. thousand pledgcs, and before a week could pass, he would break them every onc! No; either you go with me alone, or you go not at all. Take your choice. It is my fiua oil‘cr". Once more Medea hesitated, but not for dong. Turning the kry in the let k and then Wltll(ll':l_\\'llll_’,' it, she passed over to a. H'th door which 0 cncfl into the office, where she behold the landlord s ccpdy pulling away at a huge pipe. , The noise attracted his attention. and at a signal from tho white hand, he droppcd his pipe and ‘illllti forward. Mcdca stepped aside to pcrniit his: onirurcc, tlicu closrd the door behind him licl'oz'c rho spokc. “Are you acquainted with this gt‘illlt‘ttizinl" she askt (I, indicating the profcssor by it wuvc of her hand. “ Wan], kinder 50-80,” was the Sponrc. " “ \\ hat manner of person is ll( 7 What. sort ht reputation docs he bea r? (tan onu plucc any (lcpcu- dcncc in what he says?” . “ I never knowed anv partic’lar harm come of him. An’ I guess he kin tell the t1 nth without st rainin‘ to hurt, onlcss it’s in a. game 0’ kccrds. But. we all do it then, cf we kin." “He says his name is Professor King Smith, of Mandun." “I never hearn him called only Fatty Smith. Au’ ‘perfessor. too? Waal. I don‘t know what of, onlcss it’s keerds l” The landlord laughed softly, nodding his shaggy head in full up ii'eciation of his own wit, while the profcssor scow ed. “Trank you. Mr. Dickson,” and Medea smiled sweetly. "This gentleman has brought mo impor- tant information but; as he rcl‘uscs to tell inc all here, insisting on my hearing him company alone to the place where his principal awaits us. I naturally wished to learn whether or no I might trust llllll. i. will go with him, but unless I return here in two hours from now. I beg of 'ou to find my cousin, Alva Pennington, and tell him what has occurred, and with whom I left your liousc. Will you do this?" “Sart’in! Or I‘ll go ’loug, lll)’SI)l‘. apparl-ntly in readiness to iutcrccpt. lllll should he attempt to lit-c. “ I don‘t; know what. sort 0' game it is you’re play‘ln'. but J 1/4; know this much: Et‘ the 'outtg lctldy ain't buck llt‘l‘“ inside 0’ two hours, as s to said, 1'” take your trail and nova-r stop to slcc )or rest onto it olith I've run it. clcau down to bot-rock. Wlirnlgit that', cf thcy‘s any smell 0’ your lingers in the pic, I’ll sct down onto yo like the crack 0’ doom !" A lrillc mixed in his mum diors, perhaps, but none who heard him could (lou ll. the (‘tlllllllt‘ll‘ cat" ncstuoss of Iloncst (lilt's. \Vliat lic thrcntcucd would be performed. Profrssor King Smith only slirturgrcd his; fut shoul- tlcis. for already tho rt-luruing footrlt-pu oi' l‘ll‘tll‘ll. Pennington Vii-re to be lit-ard swiftly thing down the stairs, and with his lint lit-Iicutli l:i:; urni, llt‘ opcncd the door and joined her in tho past-tum“, smiling faintly at llt'l‘ wordn: ‘ I “lit two hours from now, Mr. llicksou-rcmcm )cr!‘ “Or I’ll know the rcasou wliv!” cried ll'unt-st Giles, us she pusscd (in without pausing for u. i't-ply “ As 1 four you don‘t trust in.» sufficiently to care for he assistance of HIV arm. Miss Pennington, I will not mnlu- tlic olfcr,” laid the pl'flft‘fih'ul‘, as flu-y lt‘l't l'lt‘ lllllt'L “I l'(‘l(llll't‘ no assistance, thank you. I am only nnxmus to rmc‘i i'w building whi-re you say your sister is waiting for our coining," hurriedly replied thc maiden. "Which you will soon discover is nothing mort- lhau thw simple truth. doubt lllt‘ as you iiuiy. I lltl-_\’t' “lily (dw rt-tpit-riz do not bionic lllv' if this \ isit ltt‘lttifs _\ ‘il ll‘ttlllm‘ inslcad of joy. I l':i\'c ttiml my ltt'r‘l lot!“ ni-tdoyou." .‘l-wlvu, Pruningnnu lllllalt‘ no rt-ply. 'l‘ltnl ground llflil lim‘n ,vxv'nc ovcr so often, that :~ll(‘ had nothing llll'lilt‘l‘ it)b;l\', ' Al 'n in silmu't‘, “10 fat prufcsst‘ir It'll the “in; rapidly through thc town, chaos-ilk: lllt' dark: st and most. dcsvrlcd ways, as though anxious to avoid all observation. Mmlca noticed this fact. but she said )luiltlllL’, only kccpiug «inc hand on lllt‘ butt of n, loath-d 11'- "I‘IVCI', with which she had [akin tho precaution to arm licrsclt’, \vliilu donni‘r: liur street-gurtntnts. \Vith it she was irtpzircd to (It-innd burr-wit: against. treachery. should any be llllt‘lltle'tl. dcliln‘raio i‘o Htu‘l‘t‘tl the pro “This is the place,” niuttcrcd Smith, at last, as I - . b tracting until they revealed his yellowish teeth and s , . . l 2 l , the came. to a small, one—story building, retired in its ocatlon, on the outskirts of Bismarck, not manv rods from the river’s edge. . lIc rapprd at the door, and the barrier was almost immediately opened. a soft voice demanding: “ Is that you, brother? Has she come?" “ “ Yes, she is here. Will you enter, Miss Penning- ton?“ ' There was no light within the building, but Medea (lid not hesitate. She had come too far to beat a retreat at this late hour, and still grasping her pis- tol, she advanced. A soft hand closed upon her arm, and gently drew her inside, the professor following, shutting the door behind him. “ Wait one moment " added that musical voice from the darkness. “ will strike a light, and then you can see where you are." The uncertain flickering of a match was followed by a flood of light from a large oil lamp, and Medea Pennington drew a swift breath of surprise as she glanced around her. Though small the apartment was richly, almost gorgeously titted up, seeming strangely out of place in that then rough, new border town. The \ mils and ceiling \vere hung with rich. cream- colored damask. The floor was emu-red with a vel- vet carpet, with pile so soft and thick that one sunk in it as through a layer of luxuriant moss. The fur— niture—that of a sleeping and sitting-room combined -glittcred with gilding and inlaid work, rare and costl '. On the walls hung pictures, on hand-carved brac {ets stood marble staluettes; in one word, everything seemed as rich and costly as money could procure. Under any different circumstances, Medea’s sur- prise would have been still greater, but now she only took one swift comprehensive glance at her surroundings, 1 en turned her gaze upon the woman who stood before her, closely scanning er. a And here a still greater. surprise awaited the mai- en. She had expected to meet a woman past the prime of her beauty, if not completely broken down by the terrible wrongs she had been called on to endure, according to the tale told by the fat little professor. Instead— A woman of tall and regal figure, beside whom she—herself above the medium hight of the softer sex ap cared to be but a half-grown child. At least six eet in night, and yet with a form so perfectly proportioned in its superb curves and contours, her unusual altitude was only remarked when taken in comparison with another. Her com- plexion was almost Spanish in its duskiness, yet seemed absolutely without flaw or imperfection— soft, clear, creamy. Her hair was of a lustrous blue-black, so seldom seen in all its perfection; silken instead of the usual coarse texture which goes with this color. It was arranged in a eculiar dia- dem-shaped voifi‘ure, richly sprinkled with gleaming jewels, for the most (part rubies, rleaming like drops of translucent bloo . .Around er ucenly throat hung a necklace of the same jewels, a diamond- studded cross resting just where her bosom began to swell. U on her white fingersalso shone precious stones. an here and there. as though carelessly dropping, brilliants sparkled in the folds of her swee )ing dress, corn-colored satin, heavily draped with lack lace. So brilliant was this unexpected vision that Medea Pennington was literally dazzled, starting back and raising one hand to shield her eyes, coming as she had from the blackness which reigned outside that cloudy night. A smile curved the rich, red lips, and a musical voice broke the silence: “You have nothing to fear from me, Miss Pen- nington.” “ I am not afraid,” was the quick response. “That I can swear to!" broke in the voice of the fat little professor, with a short, disagreeable laugh. “ Miss Pennington is proof against any weak senti~ ment like that. as I can truthfully bear witness. A tiger is a coward beside her i" “Brother King!” ejaculated the gorgeously—robed woman. “Sister Help!” echoed the 'little. professor, his bosom swellin'r out until it seemed a miracle that his remaining FIHIUOIIS did not fly off_like exploding torpedoes. "Allow me to finish, it you please. I lliehcvc you sent me to bring this young lady ere?‘ “ Of course 1 did; and I thank you for having suc‘ cccded." “ Well. that‘s one consolation anyway!” he ur- gled, with a mock bow. “ Never mind; ’in mec ' as a lamb. I never complain—I’m not complainin ' now—but I do say thls: if ever I run another errand for on of this description, I pray that I may trip up out 0 first step l take and break my neck into ten thousand pieces—so Ill/“7'8 I” ” Miss Pennington,” and he swiftly turned toward her, “ I prefer not to remain here during your con- versatlon with my sister. You promised= to return to the hotel inside of two hours. I will return in an hour and a half. If I am needed before the expira- tion of that time, a light shown for an instant through this doorway will suflice. Good-evening, ma’aml” With a short, stiff bow, he turned and left the house. A low, musical laugh came from the woman at this abrupt departure, and she said, with a trace of sadness: “ You must pardon him, Miss Pennington, if you find him a trifle unceremonious. He is a dear. good brother, who has suffered much on my account, and it is like poison to him to have the black past re- ferred to in the most remote manner.” She placed a chair for Medea, herself sinking upon a soft couch, very unlike one whose heart was breaking under shameful wrongs. Instead, she looked like atigress in good-humor; like a. modern representation of the voluptuous queen of the Nile. “ Well," she said, abruptly, after a brief but close scrutiny of her fair visitor. “What do you want with me?” “ I should ask you that,” retorted Medea, her cheeks flushing a. little at this sharp address. ”‘ You sent for me. I am here in answer to your pressing invitation.” Y “ As you please.” was the listless reply. “ Eon wish to discover the present whereabouts of a pre- cious scoundrcl who used to call himself Lloyd Pen- nington?” ' I Medea bowed coldly. She was rapidly growing to dislike this woman, even more heartily than she did the rofcssor. _ ""he name is the same as your own; a relative of yours?” . “ That is not to the point. Your brother said you could and would tell me where I might find Lloyd Pennington. With that understanding I accom- panied him to this place. W'ill you give me that _in- formation? 1 am ready to pay any reasonable price for it if reliable.” Wit 1 a short, metallic laugh, the woman cast a lazy glance around the room that spoke louder than words. She did not seem to feel the need of money to an great extent. . “V hat are your reasons for seeking Lloyd Pen- nington?" _ _ “To see that justice is done him—to right a cruel wrong, and brush away a shameful cloud which has long overhung his name,” replied Medea, her eyes glowmg vividly. The regal brows contracted, and an unpleasant look came into her face, while those dusky eyes he- gan to glow. ' “I was misinformed. If I had known this, Iwould not have taken the trouble to send for you,” she said coldly. " But since I have. come in answer to your urgent invitation, you surely will not send me away With- out the deSired and promised lllfOI‘lIlflthll?’ “ Why not?”—rudely. “ I am less interested now. Ithought you were another of his victims. I fan- cied you were hunting him down, to seek reycnge. Believing this,l was eager to see you and 30m my forces to yours. I would have assisted you all that lay in my power; but now——” “ You refuse to speak, then?”—and Medea. rose to her feet. _ ' “ Stop! Resume your seat,” imperiously uttered the woman, with a wave of her jevvcled hand. If you insist, I will tell you all I can. But I warn you that, if you think to do Lloyd Pennington a good service. you will live to regret it I” “ ls th‘ t a threat, and from you?” coldly demand— ed Medea, still standing her repugnance increasmg with the passage of one moment she breathed the same atmosphere with the woman. . “ It is a warning!” cried the woman, rismg to her feet her great eyes glowing with what seemed a sud en fury. “A warning which you Will do well to heed. Look at me! Am I a woman to be lightly scorned by a man who had won my heart’s l we?— who had first taught me the meaning of that word?” ” . “ We were talking of revenge—not love, said Me- ' dea, coldly returning that fiery gaze—1‘ or,, rather, you were speaking of revenge. I 0f JUSUCG- “ You are right, Miss Pennington,” said the wom- incidents in this account an her wild passion seeming to suddenly cool be- , " I forget myself whenever I think of or mention the name of that unhung Vil- lain, and the thought of your meeting him face to in your youth and innocence, sent the lava-flood Once more I warn you -nay, I beg of you on my bended knees to give over arch for this denion in human guise, before our 86 kc of you a wreck like neath that steady gaze. face _ . tearing through its barriers. is ungovemed passions ma with tears. , Slowly Medea shook her head in denial. “I have sworn to world, either on land or water, have had their rise and development in the far Orient. rauders, jungle cut-throats and outlaws of every principal rivers, and captured several large war- h e vmi ' ow beholdl” and she suited the action toe}??? .vcrds1 sinking upon her knees, her _clasped .“-‘\(lb‘ raised beseechingly, her eyes mOistenmg find him and I will keep my A BOY’S LOVE DREAM. BY IRA A. KIMBALL. We all have. notions;—I have mine; It’s got tobe the fashion; There’s nothing now scarce out my line, E‘en love’s eond :ling passion Has warped this poor impov’rish’d frame, And made it how and quiver;— But I can‘t tell which is to blame—— A disordered heart or liver. I‘ve had my dream of love and bliss, And thought I felt most sweetly, But when I come to speak of this I’ve been upset completely. For that sweet girl who sat'so close Without a squirm or wriggle, As soon as I went to propose, Began to cough and giggle. Of course I found her not the one, ’Twas best for me to tie to; I didn’t consider the matter fun, And didn‘t propose to try to; The maid replied, in the sweetest tone, \Vhite raising her eyes meckly: " ‘Tis true that while my heart is strong, Your head is rather weakly.” So I quit her, and went to seek Some. other love-sick vision, But since that time I’ve lacked for check, As well as more decision; For I have stood and let each go— The sweetest one that passes, \Vhile my whole soul went boiling o‘er Like New Orleans molasses. I‘ve sat for hours when all alone, In acrid thought and bitter! There’s Susan Blinks, she’s 'ust the girl, But how the deuce to get or? I know I love, for when I chanced To clasp her hand a minute— It knocked the buttons off my coat— My heart a-beating ’g’in’ it. Now I am in an awful strait! But who will help me through it? Would like to wed. you bet, first-rate, But don’t know how to do it; For when I went to mother Blinks And asked to see her daughter, She gave to me a reception warm— Be-grab, ’ta‘as boiling vzrater 1 Well, after that I wandered ofl? And spent whole nights in weeping; While up my back cold shivers ran, Like bedbugs softly cree Jing. It made me feel so crazy-1i e, I up and rushed about incl Don’t talk of specie, or the strike So long as woman doubts me! But now. my friends, I give it up; There is no use in trying, And as my tears are all wept up I’m on the list for drying— And when complete I‘ll waft away From out this sphere of trouble- W'ill go so swift and easy like, Because I couldn't—double J Historigjandits. BY JOHN H. \VHITSON. Paou, the Chinese Sea Scourge. THE most formidable robber organizations of the Land—pirates and water-pirates, mountain ma- description, have there, in all past time, flourished and spread like the banyan. Among them none have gained a greater meed of notoriety than the piratical associations of the Ce- lestial Empire. The. best known of these were the Ladrones, so named by the Portuguese of Macao. They were originally a disaffected set of Chinese who had re- voltcd from the oppressions of the Mandarins, and infested the Chinese seas during the early part of the present century. They began their depredations upon the western coast, about Cochin-China, and for a time carried on a s )ccies of warfare against small trading-ves- sels, w iich they attacked in row-boats. They were called by their countr men the “ Wasps of the Ocean,” and the fame of t cir successes, to- gether with the horrible poverty and degradation of the lower classes, who were almost crushed into the earth by the iron heel of caste and the universal corruption and extravagance of the Gov- ernment, served to augment their strength with marvelous rapidity. Their audacity increased with their power, and they soon swept the entire coast, bloekaded all the junks, which had been sent against them. These, added to their immense force of row-boats, formed such a formidable fleet that few vessels cared to venture from the security of their land- locked harbors without a strong convoy. When they lacked material for plunder on the sea the pirates attacked small villages inland, and occao sionally even plundered large towns. Their most noted leader was Paou. He had been a poor fisher-boy. and was picked up at sea with his father by Ching—yih. at that time the Ladrone com- mander, and carried on board his vessel. Having gained the good-will of the chieftain, he was rapidly advanced from one position to another, and at an extremely early age commanded one of the largest of the war-junks. About this time the Chinese Government made an energetic attempt to destroy the pirates, but in- stead, increased their strength, for in the very first encounter twenty-eight of the imperial junks struck, and the remainder only saved themselves by pre- cipitate retreat. These twenty-eight vessels were well—armed, and being added to the already large fleet of the La- drones, made it formidable indeed. In the year 1800 they were in the plenitude of their power, their forces at that time being estimat- ed at seventy-thousand men, navigating eight hun- dred large vessels and one thousand smaller ones, including row-boats. green. the black, and the white. ant. the ancient native dynasty. bosom of t ie ocean. and among any people, but doubly so with the Chi nesc, who I. I of the inferiority of women. supreme rulershipl and the other by Mrs. Ching. \Vitthll-defined owers and duties. A strict code 0 more enterprising and successful than ever. niaigcd nominal] a joint-ruler until the end. and river—shores. _ other goods were paid for. take any article by force, under penalty of death. thing if it could by any possibility be supplied. to have been a. muscular fellow), soon after his a could scarcely move from its massive base. on..- . gained such a. signal victory over him that it Chang They were divided into six large squadrons, under different flags—the red, the yellow, the blue, the Cliing—yih was then connnanderdn-chict‘, with Paou as his lieuten- So confident had Ching-yih become in his daily—in- creasing strength that he aspired to the dignity of a great political character. and published to the world his patriotic intention of hurling the reigning Tartar family from the throne of China, and of restoring But, unfortunately for this ambitious pirate. “on the 17th (lay of the tenth moon. in the twentieth year of Kca-King,” he was lost in .a gale, and his mighty as irations were buried with him in the Then occurred one of the strangest things in the history of this organization—strange in any countrv ave all the exaggerated Oriental notions Ching-yih’s widow was elevated, with Paou, to the The fleet was divided into two squadrons, ore of which was commanded by Paou Another noted leader known as O-po—tae was placed next in command. being commissioned as a sort of general lieutenant, laws was drawn up, which were at all times rigidly enforced, and the pirates became Paou was a typical commander. Harsh and stern in the enforcement of necessary discipline, yet. as a rule, kind and humane to his followers, his genius for piracy soon virtually placed lnm at the head of the combined organization, although Mrs. Ching re- That they mig t never want for provisions and supplies, I’aou took extraordinary pains to gain the good—will of the common people along the sea-coasts Wine, rice, ammunition and all No one was allowed to This so won upon the good graces of the lower classes that Paou’s followers never wanted for any- According to the grave Chinese historian Yuen Tsze from a translation of whose works the main are. taken, Paou (who seems ccssion to power gained a. wonderful increase of reputation by going into a temple near the coast and lifting up a heavy image, known as the Three Old \Vomen,” which all the men accompanying him By his orders this cunibrous statue was carried aboard his own vessel, whercat the_superstgnous pirates were greatly frightened. fearing ineyitable destruction in the next fight or storm; but in this they were agreeably disappointed for, when a feW months later the. great war Mandarin, Kwolang-ltn, ""wl from the Bocca-Tigris, with a nnghtyfleet. for the purpose of destroying the Ladrones, I’aou This battle of the junks was a desperate and dead- ly one, as Chinese battles 0, where clubs, stones and “ stink-pots ” are rcgar ed as mighty weapons. Fifteen of the war-junks were captured, and the remainder struck colors. The prisoners were given the choice of becoming pirates or walking into the sea, and in consequence the sea was not dotted with floatin bodies to any alarming extent. Kwo ang-lin was brought before Paou for judg— ment, and the Ladrone commander was disposed to deal mercifully with him. but "the fierce old man suddenly seized him by the hair on the crown of his head and grinned at him, so that he might provoke him to slay him. " Even then Paou was moderate, and s Joke to him kindly, but Kwolang-lin, seeing he could not secure his decapitation by such means, seized a sword from a bystander and rip Jed himself open. Not long after this, another great war Manda- rin, called Lin-fa, was sent out against the Ladroncs, but no sooner did his fleet come in sight of the pirates, who were awaiting him in battle array, than iis nicu became panic-stricken and at once chang— ingtthe course of their vessels tried to rim back to por . Paou immediately pursued, coming up with them near Olang-pac. There the chSels were rendered motionless by a dead calm, and the Ladrones, throwing themselves boldly into the sea, swam to the imperial junks. and boarding, captured six of them and slew the commander. In their next adventure the Ladrones were not so successful. Thev attacked an argosy laden with goods from Cochin-China and Tonquin but were forced to retire, and shortly afterward were severe~ ly handled by the great admiral, Tsuen-Maw Sun, who advanced against them with a hundred large war-junks, well armed. In this engagement» large numbers of the mat sails and ropes of the pirate vessels Were set on fire by the guns of the imperial fleet, and they were compelled to withdraw from the contest, having sus- tained a heavy loss in killed and wounded. But their tarnished laurels were soon brightened. They retreated for shelter to the bay of Kwang- chow, and when Tsuen-Maw-Sun again advanced against them, Paou, leaving Mrs. Ching with O~po- tae, in command of a. portion of his forces, advanced poldly to the attack on the front of the admiral‘s me. As soon as the fight commenced the other pirate squadron advanced upon the rear of the admiral‘s vessels, and he suffered a severe defeat. The next fight is so characteristically described by the Chinese historian that it must be given entire, in his own words: “ Our men-of-war, escorting some of the merchant ships in the fourth moon of the same year, happened to meet the vessels of Paou cruising at sea. The traders became exceedingly frightened, but our commander said, ‘ We are a match for them; there- fore we will attack and conquer thcinl’ Then ensued a battle; they attacked each other with guns and stones, and many were killed and wounded. The fighting ceased toward the evening, and began again the next morning. The pirates and the men-of- war were very close to each other, and they boasted mutually about their strength and valor. It was a very hard fight; the sound of cannon and the cries of the combatants were heard many miles distant. The traders remained at some distance—they saw the )irates mixing gunpowder in their beverage; they looked instantly red about the face and eyes, and then fought desperately. This fighting continued for three days and nights incessantly; at last, becom- in tired on both sides, they separated ” Vhich reminds one of the Irishman‘s account of his first skirmish: “It was a bloody battle while it lasted, and the sergeant of marines lost his cai'touch— box. After this the Ladroues continued their depreda- tions with greater impunity than ever. They burned a number of towns and villages, and carried away many prisoneis of both sexes. From one place they took fifty-three women. The Admiral Ting Kwei was then sent against them, but'Paou surprised him at anchor, and after a short but stubborn conflict, captured most of his vessels, and the Mandarin killed himself. Seeing their commander fall. many of his followers plunged into the sea and were drowned, and the remainder were made prisoners. manner were threatened with instant death. rivers and sack the towns along their banks. The Canton discliar res itself into the sea through several mouths, and t 10 Ladrones being divided into three squadrons—one commanded by l’aou, one by Mrs. thing, and the other by O-po~tae—proceeded up the Canton through three of these channels, car- rying consternation everywhere. sea. squadron in pursuit. bay under Lanton. they fired several broadsides at the pirate vessels and passed on, not daring to come nearer. day a arge force of Mandarin vessels attaeked them, but one of the vessels being blown up by a firebrand thrown from a Ladronc junk, they thought it proper to retire. among them. succeeded in pushing them away from their vessels, and broke them up for tire-wood. shut in by high and barren mountains. rible, rapacious and bloodthirsty. end. and contentions. fight his way out single-handed. of O—po—tac, and suffered a signal defeat. condition of free pardon for all. grant, and the eight thousand men composing hi force surrendered. to the forces of the Government. others. Their overtures were successful. them continually. junks. and Mrs. Ching was granted a life-annuity. known to history. —_———— C— THE following comparison is made between Ame with more than 1,000.000. below the American cities. Lina-mm After this defeat the Chinese Government, seeing how hopeless was the attempt to reduce them by force, resolved to starve them into submission. All vessels were ordered into port, with instructions to remain there, and persons assisting the pirates in any At this, Paou resolved to ascend the navigable After advancing some distance and plundering wherever they went, they returned to the open The Chinese Government, having obtained aid from the Portuguese of Macao, now sent another Coming up with the red and black squadrons in a gin’. The )irates still remained in the bay. and the next The following day the Portuguese and imperial forces again approached and commenced a heavy cannouading, and during the night attempted to burn the Ladrone fleet by sending eight fire-ships On their first appearance the pirates gave a great shout, supposing them to be. Mandarin vessels on fire, but were soon convinced of their error. They came on Very regularly, two and two, into the cen- ter of the fleet, burning furiously. but the Ladroncs and, towing them to shore. extinguished the flames The next day Paou. having completed some much- nccded repairs, and being all ready for sea. stood boldly out, bidding defiance to the Goy'ei'iiinent fleet, which consisted of ninetv-three war-junks, six I’or- tugucse ships. a brig {tilt a scliomicr. and steering in a southeasterly direction, anchored in a huge bay After such repeated victories not only the coast. but the rivers of the Celestial Empire seemed to be at their mercy, and the name of I’aou and his La- droncs became the synonym of all that was ter— Yet this wonderful organization was nearing its “hat the power of the Chinese Goverimient had failed to do was accomplished by internal feuds O—po-tae, who commanded one of the flags or (li- visions of the fleet, at length became jealous of the immense power and popularity of the mighty Paou. and when the latter was soon afterward surprised and cooped up by a strong blockading force of Man- darin vessels, he refused to go to the assistance of his commander-in-chief, who was thus forced to At this l’aou‘s rage knew no bounds, and placing his junks in line of battle, he attacked the squadron I’aonthen hastened with his shattered forces to the squadron commanded by Mrs. Ching. and O~po- tae, dreading the terrible vengeance of the madden- ed Chieftain. gained over his men to his views and proffered submission to the Chinese Government on This the Government was only too willing to O—po-tae was e evated to the rank of an imperial officer and his men were added For some months after this Paou continued to ravage the coast and seemed almost as strong as ever, but disafl‘ections arose among his followers, and seeing that O-po-tae had been made a Govern- ment officer. and seemed to be prospering, he held a long consultation with Ching-yih‘s widow and they agreed to surrender likewise, if the same conditions could be secured to them as were granted to the It was so much easier and cheaper for the Government to grant them free pardon than to be compelled to fight Paou’s men were added to the service of the Chi- nese Government, Paou himself was made an impe— rial oflicer and given command of a squadron of war- Thus. after many years of wonderful success, and wild.romantic adventures,endcd_the career of one of the largest, if not the largest, piratical associations loan and English cities: There are sixty-four cities in the United States with a population exceeding 30,000; there are forty-four cities with more than 40.000; thirty-four with more than 50,000; twenty- sevcn with more than 60,000; twenty-fourwith more , that: 75,000; twenty with more than 100,000, and one Once or twice I saw an eagle start out- 0‘ the cliff London is a hug .vaV ahead of New York, but the other Eaglis. , cities fall , anks below Philadelphia and Brooklyn: Manchester and Bit- mingham are below Chicago and "St. LOllis, Leeds and Sheffield are below Boston and Baltimore: Bris- 'o' ivradford and Salford are below Cincinnati, San ed 1" ancisco and New Orleans; Hull, Newcastle and 5’ :tsmouth are below Washington, Cleveland and Up Si Rocket’_3_Blg Climb. BY ARTHI'R GLENN. TALKIN’ of climbin’ (said old Si Rocket, as he fished a red-hot ember from the fire, and dc )ositcd it in the bowl of his pipe). I kin tell ye a, ta c, as is a tale, about that same art. hoonian ter climb no more nor it are nat‘ral fer a bar to walk on two legs; but then, when a man has a choice atween death/air climbin’ he’ll climb every time, and that‘s Gospil wisdom. I war squatted by a cam )~fi1‘0 one night, along 0’ half a dozen 0" the boys, {UK a jolly crowd we were. It war my turn at the bottle, and I had jest raised it to my lips when a pistol-shot rung out, and the bottle were shivercd to artoms, which {unwell my spec/‘its—d‘ye see? In three bounds we were all on Lie spot whar the shot came from, but nary a sign 0’ the marksman could wctind. \Ve were all ’tarnal mad at first, and agreed to spread out and hunt the impident cuss. Wal, sir, to make a long Yarn short, I hadn‘t gone twenty yards when a big Ipcllow stepped out from behind a tree, and 1 found myself lookin’ into the inuzzles of two big navy revolvers. To say I was surprised would be onneCcssary. I war confounded—skecred. “ Who the devil air you?" I asked. “ She-e-c!” he hissed. " Who air she .9” “ She-c-c 1” “What do ye want?” He made some funny motion wi’ his hands, point- ed to his mouth, and said “ She—c-e!" a ain. "Ye want she-c-e, do ye?” sez I. ‘ “'al, I don’t know whar she-e-c lives.’ 1 war about to walk ofi when he cotched my shoulder, and yanked me around as if I'd la’ been a bale o” hay, at the same time pokin’ the revolvers unpleasantly close to my nose, and hissin‘ it out longer nor ever, I s’pose fer a change: “ She-e-e-e !” “ Wal,” said I, disgusted-like, “may I be ever- lastin’ly blessed ef you ain‘t the onpleasantcst chap I ever had the misfortin’ to run ag’in’ 1” Then he turned around, and motioned me to fol- low him, but I wouldn‘t ha’ followed fer a. new rifle. Then he pulled out a bowie-knife, and handed it to me, with his revolveis. I war glad enough to git hold 0’ ’em, thinkin’ the chap might have onpleasant intentions. - He walked off, motionin’ for me to foller. I \varn’t inclined to do so at first, but when I con- sidered that the chap war unarmed, I blushed to think that l hesitated to foller an unarmed man. “Lead on then,” sez I, “but no more she-e—e's ef you please!” When he saw that I was follerin’ him his eyes lighted up like twin stars. A He never wavered right norleft, and we walked for more nor an hour straight up the valley; then be dis- appeared as suddint-like as he bed appeared. I stop- ped as sudden as if I had turned to stone. I thought as how thar war somethin’ soopernat'ral about it, and I could feel the hair drummin’ ag’in’ my hat. “ It were the devil hisself,” I thought, and;then I turned and made tracks outen that, faster nor chained lightning. Down the valley I went, stumblin’ over rocks and logs. till I thought my legs war broke, they pained me so. I hadn’t traveled far till I heerd footsteps behind me, and looking over my shoulder. to my horror and dismay, I sce’d the creeter comin’ arter me, full tilt, lantern in hand. leapin’ from bowlder to bowlder wi’ the agility o’ a mountain-goat, an’ a- hollcrin’ “ Slu—e-e I” wi’ all the strength 0’ his lungs! In just about two seconds he had me by the collar, and war makin’ them diabolical motions wi’ his hands. Then he pointed up the valley, and motioned for me to follow him. I couldn‘t move: I war rpoted to the Spot as firmly as if I had growcd t iar. Then an ijec seemed to strike him. and settin’ down his lantern, he picked up a stick and com- menced to write upon the ground. Then curiosity overcame my fear. 1 went nearer, as he pointed to the words he had written. " I am dumb. \Voman in great distress. That war all. but it war enough. I shook the fellar’s hand, and marched arter him : on the doublcquick. Old Si Rocket- war never known to desart a woman in distress. My fears had vanished as fast as a miner’s gold- dust, but they were soon to be renewed. When we reached the spot whar he had disa - pearcd he took me by the hand. and walked straig it toward the cliff on one side 0’ the road. He parted some bushes, and we entered a stone passage, or rather a wide crack in the rock. We followed this passage for perhaps three yards, when we suddenly emerged into a small cave eon- tainin’ a table and two chairs. At the further end 0' this cave war a curtain, which, I artcrward learned. kivered a doorway. The chap ointed to one 0’ the chairs, an’ wan- ishcd bchim the curtain. l sot down, wonderin’ what ’u’d come next. when I felt; sometliin’ crawlin’ up my leg, under my leg- Come 1” I looked down, and what (1’ *6 think I see’d? Noth- in’ more nor less than the tail 0’ a blasted snake a stickin’ out 0’ the bottom 0’ my leggin’. I jest gave one howl, and jumped for that passagf. I guess as how I must ’a’ skeercd that snake, fer e glided up my back, and out 0‘ the back 0’ my neck like a streak! Gosh! it war pleasant—not much! I danced along that passage like a demon afire, but hadn’t gone six feet till I stumbled over an- other obstacle Satan had thrown in my way. I fell on the ground ’inong a pile of young bars. I jedgc thct tliar war about twenty on ’cm. They scratched and hit me till I tho’t as how I'd be torn to pieces. At last I got free. and tore back into the cave. and jumped onto the table bruised and bleedin’, and nigh skeet-ed to death. Then a horrible gratin‘ V'Oice Screeched into my ear. “ BOo-o-o l" I didn’t stop to examine the cause, but jest bounced off 0’ that table, and entered the next cave, followed liv a loud, discordant laugh. I stopped mighty suddint, for thar on a bed war the pootiest young wooman I had ever sot _eycs on. The dumb fellar war givin’ her some medicine out 0’ a bottle. The dumb fellar grinned, and made some motions wi' his fingers. The young creetm" smiled—a wan, sickly smile—and said: " My brother says that you have seen his pets. He is very fond of his bears, and parrot, and even the snakes.” I understood it all then. “ He air welcome to ’em. ma‘m,” said I. " I sent my brother to town,” said she, "fer help. But he tells me that he luckily met you in the woods. You are a trapper, and I s‘pose you are well acquainted with the haunts of annuals and birds.” " I know 'em pretty well.” Then she commenced to cry, though I couldn’t see fer what. but I learned soon. " It may seem strange to you to see me here in this strange place. Perhaps you have guessed the se- Ci‘ct——" " I think I hev,” sez I, as it suddintly flashed into my head: "this is Dandy Dan’s retreat.” “ Yes, and I am that road—agent's wife, but oh! you will not desert me on that account? My hus- band is absent.” “ I'll help ye in anythin’ that ain‘t ag’in’ the con- science," sez I. " Thanks. It is a short story. My little daughter, one year old, was playing in front of the cave. when a huge eagle swooped down and bore her otI.” “ When was that?” s “ This afternoon. Two hours since. Oh—oh—oh!” and she cried again. “ That war Rose!" I said. “Who is Rose?” she asked. “Rose air the biggest eagle in the hills, and car- ries offasheep as easily as she carries off ahare. She has been shot at a number of times, but old Ben Stuart war the only man that ever hit her, and he shot off one 0‘ her legs.” “ ’Tis she! ’Tis she 3” she. cried, claspin' her hands. "I noticed that she had but one claw. Oh, sir! if you will but bring my child’s bones you will be rewarded.” “ Don't want any reward,” said I. “ I know whar Rose’s nest is. l ’s on the highest cliff in the hills, Rainbow Cliff, and no man war ever kno to reach the top. but I guess no ’un ever tried. Havc- yCi‘. got a rope?” She spoke to her brother wi‘ her fingers, and he fetched Several lassoes. Ile grinned as he handed me one wi‘ blood on the noose, an’ I shuddered as I thought 0‘ the poor wretch's fate whose neck it had encircled. " I‘ll try it,” said I, “though it air a desp’rit risk. In an hour the moon ‘11 be. up." "’ John will go with you,” she said, “ and may God bless you!" An hour later we reached the foot 0’ the cliff, and r- the moon just pecped over the hills enouin to light us on oiu‘ way. Then our big climb commenced. . The top 0’ the cliif seemed to enter the clouds. it was so high. and the moon playin’ on the face o' the rocks presented all the colors 0’ the rainbow—hence its name. far above, ’tween me and the sky, but I knew that it wasn't near as high as Rose‘s nest. _ Up and up we crept, on our skeery journey. Nearer and nearer to the top of the cliff, sometimes I linging to a mesquite bush, at others dependni‘ on the strength 0’ small roots and vines; and still. oc- casionally, I saw that eagle dart out 0_‘ the chff w1’ a shrill scream, and then dart back again. and up we crept, foot by foot, till the valley I've always argitlcd that it ain‘t nat’ral for a saw that she war minus afoot. there war still hope. Sometimes we’d rest on a ledge, and sometimes we’d throw our ropes over a bush above us, and. trust our lives to the strength 0’ that bush. \Ve were drawin’ close onto the eagle now. I could hear her screams, and see her plainly as she darted about. “That ain‘t Rose‘s nest,” I said. mean?” At last the eagle saw us, and at the same time I It war Rose, sure For a wonder the eagle didn’t notice us, “ What does it enough. though I expected a fight every moment.” At last we arrived on the ledge that the eagle was flyin’ about, and about tWenly feet to the iight 0’ the spot which war interestin‘ her. Then we sce'd a Sight that made our ha‘r stand on end. 011 the ledge lay a pooty leetle golden-ha‘red baby, and around its body war coiled a thunderin’ big snake. “ The eagle has stopped to rest,” thought I, “and the snake has grabbed the prey.” Every minute or twu the eagle would dart at the snake, but the long forked tongue made her keep her distance. It was a big black snake and not poisonous. The child‘s face war white, and her eyes war closed, but _ John seemed to think so, for his face lit up wi’ joy. He pulled two revolvers from his belt and handed one to me. Then he pulled out a piece of chalk and wrote ’pon the rock: ' “You shoot the eagle; I’ll shoot the snake.” I shook my head. ‘ “ You can't do it, my lad,” said I, “unless you are a dead shot.” ‘ He wrote again: “ The hand that shot the glass from your hand will kill the snake.” ' “What did you shoot the bottle for?” I asked. He pointed to the eagle and took aim at the snake. The reports of our revolvers rung out. and then wi’ a wild scream Rose dashed at me. I had only wounded her. I thought I war agoner sure, but another shot rung out and the eagle dropped in- to the valley. John had roved his aim. He came up wi’ the chi d in his arms, and pointed at the dead snake. I felt the little pulse; it war beatin‘ slowly. “ Let us to the cave,” he wrote. The child war tied to my back, and in s ite o’ the burden I stood safe in the valley an hour ater, and we went to the cave. I never see‘d sech a happy creetur’ as that woman when I laid the child in ier arms, and I think she must ’a‘ thanked me a thousand times. After a while she explained everything. “ John shot the bottle from your hand to draw you from your companions. I am sure such a good man will not betray our hiding-place.” _“l\'o,” said I; and just as the sun came over the hills I rejoined my com anions, and answered their questions as best I coul wi’out betrayin’ the hidin’e place 0’ Dandy Dan and his pooty wife. Casual Mentioa. PHILADELPHIA has a Sunday Breakfast Association which gathers in the outcast every Sunday morning, warms them up with a hearty breakfast, and then talks the Gospel to them. CONGRESSMAN 'Fixizirrv, of Illinois, said recently that England was not fit to black America‘s shoes. This is suggestive of a "brush ” between the British Lion and the Bird of Freedom. A RECENT tornado on Mono Lake, in California, piled u the foam on the shore twenty feet high in Some 1) aces. and in it were hundreds of dead wild ducks, which had been killed by being dashed against the rocks. A BABY in Hancock, Mass. has now living nine grandparents~a grandmother and grandfather, a great-grandmother and great- grandfather, a great- greatgi'andmother, on- lhe father‘s side; a grand- father, grandmotherha grcatvgrandfatlici‘ and mo- thcr, a great-grem-grandfather, on the mother’s side. ’ A GENTLEMAN who has traveled extensively over the fig- producing countries of Enron‘ and Asia will soon plant an extensive fig orchard on his ranch, about five miles from Los Angeles, Cal. He will plant only the true Smyrna fig, and believes he can fillti‘a good market for all the pressed figs he can ma '9. THE use of whisky among the 1.08.3 patients in the Indiana asylum for the insane hasbeen reduced from three gallons to one pint a day, with marked benefit, it is said, to those who require a stimulant for the ap etite. Regarding moral-force methods as better t ian hysical restraint, Dr. Fletcher, the superintendent, as forbidden the use of restraint chaiis, cribs, restraint straps. waistlets,'and anklets. 1N Paris the ratio of suicides for every million in« habitants averages yearly 402, while in Naples it is only 34. The ratio for other cities is suggestive and interesting. In Stockholm it is 354, in Copenhagen 302, in Vienna 287, in Brussels271. in Dresden 240. in St. Petersburg 206, in Florence 180. in Berlin 170, in New York 144, in .Genoa 135, in London 87, and in Rome 74. The majority of suicides in New York are said to be by Germans. THE London Times says that “at the first lim se it is uncertain whether the scene around t 1e el- lowstone geysers resembles more afactory or visions of the Inferno. The roads are toilsome and perilous. The alkali, lime, and sulphur-dust is knee-deep. The hotels are Gypsy encampments with the prices of Saratoga palaces, and without their civility. Any- thing like a picnic in this seared andscarrcd land appears equally out of place with a picnic by the Dead Sea.” A POTTsviLLE (Pad woman hurriedly sent fora. doctor and informed him that one or two of her false teeth had lodged in her 'throat. He tried in vain to dislodge them by ordinary methods. and saidrthat an operation must be performed. The woman was too nervous and timid to permit this. After fasting and suffering for two days she found the teeth in a draw where she had put them. Then the pain grad- ually disappcaicd. There had been no obstruction in her throat. THE Booth family now consists of the mother—old J. B. Booth’s widow—who survives. at upward of eighty years; Miss Rosalie Booth, Edwin and J0- seph. and Mrs. Asia S. Booth-Clarke, wife of the distinguishet. American comedian, John S. Clarke, of London. Originally there were ten children of the famous elder Booth—namely, Junius Brutus, Rosalie Ann. Henry Byron. Mary. Frederick, Eliza- beth, Edwin. Asia Sydney, John Wilkes and Joseph Addison. Only four remain. THERE is a free railroad in Oakland, Cal. That city is across the bay from San Francisco, with a. population of 45.000. The Central Pacific Company needed a way directly through it, and the principal street afforded the best route. but the people were reluctant to have the thoroughfare spoiled, and only consented with the provision that no fares should be collected for rides within the corporate limits. There are several stations on this peculiar section of the line, and the residents use the trains freely. AN officer of a school in Boston for the blind says that sighilcss persons may become the most expert piano-tuners. Through its constant-use, the faculty of hearing becomes so acute that intervals in_the scale of sounds w'hich are so slight as to be unnoticed by other persons are readily detected by the blind. The slightest imperfection in unisons is discord to them. Their knowledge of the mechanism of the piano is obtained through the use of 'models and the dissection of old instruments. Besides, theyare thor- oughly taught in that branch of lihysics which treats of ’the nature of sound and the aws of its produc- tion and transmission. THERE are about 4.000 Mennonites. or Anabaptists. in Manitoba, divided into ten or twelve villages, and occupying the richest land. They came seven years ago, a large reservation being set apart by the Goy- ernment for their exclusive use. Their language is a mixture of Russian and low Dutch, and their cus- toms and habits are primitive in the extreme. They are not at all cleanly, living under the same roof with pigs, cows, horses and poultry, and keep aloof from the settlers. Their e ders deCide minor dis. putes, but the power belongs to the people. Without whose consent no business of importance can be transacted. They are, of course, subject to the pm vincial law. Qcmxn, chief of the Comanches, is a fine—looking man, with a fair blending of the leading char- acteristics of the white and Indian races. from which Dr sprung. Nearly forty years ago, on a raid made by the Comanclies into Texas, they seized and carried into captivity a young maid- en. named Cynthia Parker, a niece cf Mr. Isaac Parker. This young girl, only twelve years of age, when she attained womanhood married a Comanche chief, and from this union Quin-ah was born. Dur- ing the war General Snl Ross captured Cynthia Parker. and she returned to Texas much against her will, and, with her little Indian daughter, died. Her son remained with the tribe and is now their chief. THE Chinese merchants in San Francisco are tak- ing every year, with greater enterprise, to all the devices of American trade. They compete actively with the Caucasian business man in the manufac- ture of clothing, underwear, shoes, Cigars and other important articles of merchandise, and of late they have taken to employing commercral drummers. who travel along the whole length of the I’aCific coast; and overrun Mexico and Central America With me samples of their Mongolian employers. The drum- mers are of course Caucasian, and of all national- ities. Al: one time these Chinese manufacturers could not. dispose of their wares except by labeling them “ White Labor;” but now it is not unhkgg' eselabels. ~ a. ' - ' ’ . d the resence of the “ Three . I, . , , . 03ml Even though I knell: in" as the demon agntégfidgwevfi’gvner aftell‘ward regarded as par- Buffalo: Leicester, Sunderland and Oldham are be- below might ’21” been the bottomless p;-.. ‘at deep and that their Caucasmn commitors may find it You 8“ iblb‘zgoullgip‘ggdretreatl an N” ’2 \ ticulady auspicious low Newark, Louisville and Pittsburg. dark it seemed. vantageous tomntate the C ‘ “""Wf" ‘ . T ; J‘ 5 r ' . ’9 ,b' l, '9 x '_ 3,1, 3.: i '\ o '.' a. z} 13.’ i__ 1'“; i i": -- ' [C ». 'U .‘ .' '» . , . . u” ';‘~.' 3: "'3 - '3'; 5:; £32. 5:. {any} \‘i 1 ' . 3‘" 2‘4“ -:-:-.~?3.- . . .ixv— . QW‘ ' 3‘5. 3%", efiéfimcfr ué 'ku‘, ‘ ' 13.37:; i". i (1 :l_l' -' u, {it ‘J I li‘ ‘ h... “Kan—t .91.. " I . .a-sd. . «wt-w. l fire-*Mv-ézer I: ‘ft am. am..- 1.....-',,._,..,,., ,.,,M w,____, h ,_ _ v I ‘ ‘ a ’ vu. _ .. ,' " - m' , _.~ s a: qw s .-3~-.-/y~‘.. ..y ._ , . .._?....v ~ , l .. .T.~ v ,- ’3 .1 ._.. ~ . . 1‘ . . .‘., . .. Pubz'lsku ere/12,. .Il‘onJuy film-Hing at nine o’c’o The Wills iwake Papers. Masculine Backbitérs. llIEN ai-o never tired of having their fling at w0iiiei. on the subject of backbitiug. To hear NEW YORK, JANUARY 19, 1'59... following rates: Terms to Subscribers. Postage Prepaid: One copy, four months .. . . _ . . . . . .. $1.00. “ “ one year . . 3.00. Two copies, one year . . . . . . . . . . . . .. 0.00. In all orders for subscriptions be. careful to give address in full—State, County and Town“ The pa- per is always stopped, promptly. at expiration of subscription. Subscriptions can start With any late number. _ TAKE NOTIcs.-—In sending money for subscription, b ' mail, never inclose the currency except in_a r..- istered letter. A Poat Office Money Order is the est form of a remittance. Losses [Dy-Illall Will be almost surely avoided if these directions are fol- lowed. WAN communications, subscriptions, and let. ters on business should be addressed to BEADLE AND ADAMS, PUBLISHERS, 98 WiLmAiI ST.. NEW YORK. Soriils Next to follow! Two Great Stories By Two Great Authors. Kate Scott, THE DECOY DETECTIVE; 0R, Joe Phenix’s Still Hunt. As fine a Detective and City Life Romance as this most popular author ever produced. White Beaver, The Exile of the Platte; on, The Red Angels of the Overland. BY HON. W. F. CODY, “BUFFALO BILL.” One of the most glorious of tales of the Wild West, with noted men for its “heroes” and actors, and Fancy Frank Powell——the Doctor Scout and Winnebago Medicine Man—for the figure of central interest. Look Out For Them ! A Brilliant Programme! Good Things for All the Year to Come! Having for some months past been arranging for novelties and attractions for 1884, we may now announce as among the specialties to be laid before our readers:— I. Plainsmen and Mountain Men! A series of carefully-prepared and most en~ tertaining biographic sketches of the celebrated men who, as explorers, prospectors, adventur- ers, and guides, have won celebrity in the an- nals of the Wild West, viz. :—Isaac Graham— Jedediah S. Smith—Robert McClellan—Bill Gordon—Old Bill Williams—Thomas Eldie— Jim Bridger—Melton Sublette—Bill Bent—Col- ter, the Trapper, etc., etc., by Frank Triplett, of the St. Louis Press. ' II. Stories Told in the Round House! In which Locomotive Engineers. Brakemen, Conductors, Baggagemen, Trainsmcn, Track- walkers, Station Agents, Telegraph Operators, Express Agents, etc., et-c., all have their story to tell, of life, adventure and experience On the rail. It is both a train of marvelously interest« ing narratives and a. singularly vivid portrayal of railway men and their strange associations. By Jess’ C. Cowdrick, Station Agent and Oper- ator. III. Texan Life and Character! The real men of the South west border and their life-the heroes of many a “scrimmage,” exploit and adventure, viz. :—C ipt. Jack Hays, Jim 006, Sam Houston. the Comanches, \Vall’s Invasion, Slaughter of Texan Rangers, etc., etc. —a most interesting and valuable series. By Major Sam S. Hall (“ Buckskin Sam ”). IV. A succession of FIRESIDE BALLADS from sev- eral poets who have won a fine fame in this de- lightful field. As this has been a favorite fea- ture of our WEEKLY, for the past year. so it shall be for the year to come. H. H. J ohnson’s home—life and vernacular poems will be a con- tinued attraction. V. A new series of humorous papers—combined character sketches and stories—from a new au- thor who has a decidedly original streak in him that will make his pen-work very appetizing and entertaining. We have also arranged for other matter in the way of humor and vernacu- lar that will be to our readers specialty. l VI. ‘ Prospecting and Mining! Papers on these subjects full of practical and permanent value, and of the liveliest reading interest, by an old prOspc-ctor and mine-locater, whose perilous tramps all along the ranges from the British line to the Rio Grande have made him famous. He will show the whole prccess i of developing the mine, from the first “ locate,” through all stages to the assaying of the precious metal. The papers will, therefore, be story, adVenture, exploration and instruction all in one, and richly worth the attention of all BEADLE's W'EEKLY is sold by all Newsdealers in the United States and iii the Canadian Dominion. | Parties unable to obtain it from a lle\ltl'£l:]lf‘al0r,l:)l' those referring to have the paper sen ‘irect, y i _ r n I _ 1 , mail, III-om the publication office, are supphed at the ’ any one v. rites a masculine down as Albert W. likoo’s Splendid Serial. spirited people that woman has ceased to de- serve man’s highest reverence and ready de« strife, and work, in rivalry with him, for it is a plenty of men who cannot endure this rivalry and jealousy. But this explanation of how it. is ly worthless when the question arises as to how it is that men, who always rail at woman’s un- charitableness to of their own sex. Yet they are. admirable in almost every other respect are often execcdingly uncharitable in their judg- ment of other men. one is a fool; a fourth is not fit to speak with; yet the first may never have done a thing that a just judg— ment, based upon a perfect knowledge of all the man’s circumstances, would not have indoi‘sed; the second may know a great deal more—and in profitable directions—than the man who con- demned him: the third may have a peculiar yet perfectly natural manner. a condemnation deserved less by him than by the man who made it; far of heart and of morals than the man who for some freak condemned him. I. certainly is throw“ made“ glance at 1391' 1.003 a fact that man are given to making the most unkindlv criticisms of each other and without any real grounds. to condemn their own sex as women are to con- demn women; erally as unjust. her, that very men that be the equals in some way, and the superiors in some other, of the speaks of the had better attempt the reformation of himself and lllS masculine friends. a. delightful this little fact about men, the Pacific.” v O‘iver Ootic i M ’ _ . 1 v . an. r. Bad ers “Monte Jim?” can g bers of the IVEEKLY. They both started in No. 58. {dalf Dime Publications can be had on applica- mm. are. beyond .question, the best, as they are the cheapest series in the market, replicate Wltll good things forschools, exhibitions, an ._ readers. l *hs‘ lgrdly creatures talk, an unintelligent per- 'son might almOst be conviriCed that all w0« men are censorious and uncliaritable, especially toward their own sex; and than all men are l angels of indulgence and loving-kindness toward all men—and all women alike. But there never was a case yet, but had its two sides; and before an angel [of—anything, it would be well to get some : other testimony than the would be angel’s owu I COncernii-g liis virtues. Now, I like gentlemen as well as any one I ,1 know, and I am always tender of their feelings. Spend much of my time—as every Wide AWake reader must surmise—in extolling their virtues (when they have any). to the skies; and I neVer gently I'Pfrl‘ to any trifling little masculine fault or folly that l have had reason to suspect without feeling myself almost blush— ing at, my assurance, and overcome with woe lest I give pain to some sensitive manly heart; and I am fully convinced, as any feminine creature ought to be, that women are not nearly so pure, so good, so generous, so altogether complete in Christian virtues, as their heavenly-minded and saintly brothers— nien. Yet, despite the humility with which I recognize the inferiority of my sex, as a rule, and the modesty and tenderness which or- dinarily prevents my saying anything depre- ciatory of the other sex, and the deep adoration with which I look up to and reverence man’s many pet-fractions, I cannot sully the pages of the 'EEKLY with a prevarication. I am forced, in writing this one paper, to reflect somewhat upon the almost spotless character of mankind. It is with the deepest affliction, and entirely at the dictates of that blinded Woman, Justice, that 1 record its—that in the matter of back- biting mankindis not quite faultless; that men are a trifl) lowar than the angels in this re- spect; that, indeed—oh! horrible accusation! Justice, herself, insists that men are no better than women in this regard! But let me whis- per—lest Justice hear me, and get mad, and tear the bandage off her eyes, and discover some other awful truths about men—that of course it is the one ex'Ception to mankind’s superiority over womankind. And there are masculine backbiters. Yes; it is a solemn, an awful, but an incontrovertible there are immense numbers of them—that “ the woods are full of them,” if 1 may be pardoned for using upon this extreme occasion some mild slang. A min has only to mention a young» woman before a roomful of men to find out how swift his sex is to say censorious and uncliaritn~ t ble things of women; and, a lady has only to praise some young man to some other young man to find out how swift men are to say Censorious and disparaging things of each 9 other. Time was when a man considered that it was a reflection upon his personal honor to speak lightly 0" unkiudly of any woman—when he held a woman‘s reputation the most sacred thing on earth, and when he would have sacri~ ficed his hopes of heaven to defend any trust a woman had put. in him; but those were days of barbarism and chivalry. This is an age of civ- iliZItion and no chivalry. The man of today is not over-burdened with any sense of honor toward either his masculine or his feminine friends; or perhaps a higher state of civiliza- by the knights of olden time. At all events, the gentlemen (l‘) of this age consider it no discredit—even not in- compatible with their assumption of infallible generosity and charitablneess—to criticisain the most public and the freest possible manner the looks, the acts, the associates, the character of every woman of their acquaintance, and every woman who is merely so much as known to them by name or face. To prove the truth of this assertion, the honest doubter has but to listen to the conversation of men about women everywhere—on the streets, in the club-room. in public conveyances, and even in private par- lors. Women are not one whit more swift to say unkind things of their sisterhood than men are to make unkind, light, careless, gossipy, unproven remarks about their feminine ac- quaintanccs. All this might be accounted for on the ground taken by some illogical, illiberal and mean- fense by entering the arenas of thought, and fact: too patent for discussion that there are unmoved by the meanest feelings of resentment that men may be backbiters of women is utter- woman, should be backbiters Men who are This man is,mean; that that one is too affected to live; which may earn him the fourth may be bet- Not long since a young man condemna- to a young lady. In reality, that were known only to their per- So it. is often. Men are as swift and ruthless and the condemnation is gen- It is a truth that every one ought to remem- every one has his good points. The other men‘ hackbite are sure to persrma who speak unchar- tablv of them: and, In future, before any man uncharitableness of women, he has nearly broken my heart to lay bare Huh t t. I the truth must be 01 .. a men are en "‘9 y e e uals of women n the matter of backhitiiig. q BELLE BRIGHT. M [39‘ Those interested in the stories “ Pink of A complete catalogue of all our Dime and The Drum DIALOGUES and DIME SPEAKERS Every volume is amateur performances. on page 7.) (See list as given There I t too qui Some w myself. abroad i not. couraged. ladies. I would b work hadn’t uncomfortable to feel tired. to push the it continually. of bearing heavy on the grindstone, and I could not convince him that it was just the same to bear lightly and work longer as it was to bear heavily and work shorter. me go. I stood at a soda-fountain for a week, and on Saturday the owner handed me his bill, which showed, after deducting my wages, a dollar and forty cents coming to him; a little ac off and quit. I then set boss said I could sling a pretty good brush, but thatI slung more paint than I did on my clothes, and got so little on the sash; so I graduated without a diploma in truth; and still more dreadful is the fact that the fine arts- , , got to clerking in an oyster room. bought I had at length proper sphere. and was in the zenith of my hap- piness; life opened bright before me like a new oyster-can, but the owner, toward the last of he week. got to throwing outside hints and say- ing, “160 empty cans and only so much money in the drawer.” _ I had either taken the money or the oysters, I Next I xited. I stood in but business was so brisk and I callers to entertain down and take a nap all day long. Then, in addition, I got to seeing how passed between my girl and Jigsby. That made me completelv disgusted with life, and I was soon out of office and in for a. row. When I did go to work again, covery, it was in a ready-made clothing store, but the boss in a few days told me I could feel myself free, for he had not hired me for the” purpose of trying on all the fine coats in the store to see how I looked in them, and that, as I didn’t want to buy one, anyway, he didn’t want them worn out. in the habiliment line. I worked a few months at lettering tomb- stones, hut in recording the virtues of dead men I made more made in the virtues themselves. fatal—mortal. I decided to go into a shoe store, but I was ck, and too accommodating a clerk. av customers began to drop off instead of making a grand rush. when I would start to wait on a lady she went out while I was looking for tbe‘Shoes, or treated me very snappislily. their actions. , me aside, and told me that his old customers complained that. when a lady came in and said she wanted to look at a. pair of gaiters I would “Yes, you want a number six,” and start off for it before she could say a word. He said I was a pretty good judge of the actual size of a denounced another young man in the most saw foot, but was‘very indiscreet, and too much, in age terms to a young lady, and declared he would never again speak to her if he should see her walking or talking with the obnoxious per- son. Yet. when the grounds of his tion Were sifted down, it was found that all the critic knew of the person he criticised was that he had met the latter once and heard him make a silly speech whatever merits or demerits the two men may have bad I sonal friends, the rudely condemned man was far ahead of his critic in refinement, culture and manners. a hurry to do a good business. number six woman call for a shoe. variably have been for a four and wonder I injured business! try and get along without the aid of a clerk of such powers of observation, and he did. Later I studied law, and would have passed, but in the examination I was asked: “ What is the true object of all law?” I answered: “ As the sta he supplipd with back num_ from Markleville, the road seemed to heavy near Woodford's Canyon. horses could hardly drag the load, and they seemed to have harder work at every step. Fin- ally they stopped to rest at the top of the little knoll just this when the driver attempted to start the horses the could not pull an inch. He dismounted and took a lantern to examine when to his astonishment he posed, that a rope had been tied two wheels. ' started back with a yell of horror on discover- Barly Business Experiences. I EARLY began to maintain that a boy should start out. and make his own living, as there are always endless cp’p .rtunities just ahead Of him, whether he ever succeeds in reaching them or I know seVerul nien, now rich, who be- gun to make their own living while yet they were small boys, and no doubt there are a. good .many wealthy nien now livmg who began early to do for themselves. If boys nowadays would only understand that it is better to be rich and independent than to be poor and dependent, we would have more boys earning something, even if was only to have the proud satisfaction of givnig their then a boy shows a disposition to be energetic, even though Lo fails in his endeavors, I argue that he should be en- wages to the old man. made for, without t e necessitypf my lying there all day and getting tired at it. jack-plane, though I would grease cmnt of what I drank. I now went to clerkiug in a soap foundr , but I was rather dissatisfied with the place. There was nothing there that I as for the soap I never did like to handle it, anyway, even if paid to do it. my hands, so had to wash it off. didn’t agree with me I gave up the profession. After that I stayed in a music store awhile—- at least till the neighbors got to making com- plaints; then my employer presented me with an accordeon and told me I could my remaining days out in the woods where no- body would have any right to grow] or disturb tiou has changed men’s ideas of honor from 111% performance- those that were entertained was 8, 110301 Clerk lost my Situation; the never make a hotel clerk~that I was totally unfitted for the positioné—tbat I great trouble to answer antly to the guests, took their money was under obligations them feel comfortable, wear a big enough breast-pin and always saw that:j the office-fire was not going down; so I re- tire . I started to learn dentistry, but in pulling teeth I would slacken ‘ subject yelled, and once or twice I pulled the right tooth the first time. reason I got a discharge and no letter of credit. “ For the Settlement of all difficulties.” I was barred out of practice as non compost. I took a country school, week or so, because when I licked the small bovs their fathers licked me. and when I at- tempted to whip the larger ones I got whipped I saw that in my attempts to teach the young idea how to shoot, I merely taught them how to kick and hit;so I graduated the scholars all in a bunch and left. As I said before, there is nothing like starting out into business while you are young, even if you do have to sneak back again; you at least get the benefit of the experience. m A Snake Story. Strong. IF it is “out of season” for snakes to be u Nevada, this most. from that delectable land of Senator Jones de- sorves to go on record as one of the things that Nevada can do App til it is which relates: The Owl Papers. I set in to clerk in a dry-goods store when I was fifteen years old, and would have b:en a dry-goods prince now if it had not been for the pretty girls who Were always in the store; it. took so much time for me to talk to them all that I couldn‘t wait on the customers. proprietor said if it. would facilitate matters he would hire a clerk just to entertain the young I lef I was alive clerk in a furniture store for a week, un;il the boss said customers could readily see for thcmsr-lves what those lounges were The t. ave made a good carpenter if the tired me so. It always made me I found I had Then, too, the boss had a way He concluded to let be said he had kept I paid him in to learn house-painting. The on the window-panes found my As he seemed to intimate that could eat. and 1 got i all ovar s that go and spend for a week but quickly landlord said I would put myself to questions, talked pleas- as if I to them, tried to make was too obliging, didn’t my grip eVery time the For some unknown the post-omce a couple of weeks, had so man that I couldn’t get to Sit many letters after my re— Ience and therefore I demised mistakes than the dead men ever That was I often noticed that I couldn’t account for By and by the proprietor took and say, If I had let a it would in- a half. No Hesaid he would but gavo it up aftera SOLOMON SHINGLII. voracious yarn when she tries. The Carson go, a short time since, was coming get very The nearest side of W'oodford’s Station, and the running-gear, found. as he sup~ between the Laying his band on the rope, heir ing that a live snake had twisted itself between the bind and fore wheels, and was holding the stage as s.curely as if thewheels had l'iecn tied with an inch rope. The reptile bad evnlcntly been trying to block the stage for several miles, and when the horses stopped for a rest ini- proved the opportunity to tighten the calls: so as to effectually prevent the stage from starting avunn oTlie passengers got out and tackled the snake with clubs and stones, and as the reptile thrashed about under the wheels, the horses were wild with terror. He was finally killed by a blow on the head, and it was after midnight before they got him disentangled from the w heels. He was the style of snake known as the mountain runner, and measured twelve feet four inches. then stretched tightly betwr-en the wheels he was much longer. A Bar Tonic. BEEF tea has become a popular bathroom beverage in Omaha. Said It philosophic“ bur- keeper to a reporter the other day: “ At. first we laughed at the idea of going to the trouble or it. We sell over 100 drinks per day, and as it is a fifteen-cent drink there is no reason why we should not smile. lVlio thinks it, do you say? Why, eVei‘ybody; the mini about town who has been out with the boys com-2s in here in the morning and calls for beef tea; the busi~ ness man comes in the afternoon and brilCrS his system with beef tea; the temperance man who drops in with a bibulous friend takes beef tea; ard, in fact, everybody is becoming a slave to it.” Baccarat. THE game of baccarat, which has suddenly become popular in this country, is said by an expert to make swindlin by the bankers per- fectly simple and easy. dealer at unfair form must be an adept in the. handling of cards or use fraudulent apparatus. It is not so with baccarat. The dealer takes two cards and gives two to each player. One card apiece may after ward be drawn. Then the holder of a card nearest to a certain value wins. The ostensible advantage to the bank is about five per cent., but there is no necessity of letting the dupes off at that slow rate of loss. The players sit round a. table, and at their backs stand spectator: among whom may be placed pals of the dealer, who by private signals inform him of the value of their hands. Buffalo Bill at Home. THE North Platte, Neb., Telegram has this to say about one of our favorite authors and the " hero ” of many a story: “ North Platte should be congratulated on the l v making it. but: now we laugh because we do make ' Correspondenls’ Column. [This column is open to all correspondents. In- quiries answered as fully and as promptly as cir- cumstances will permit. Contributions not cntcrcd' as “declined” may be considered accepted. No MSS. returned unless stamps are inclosedJ Declined: “Mod Multim" “Sans Merci;” “The Broker‘s Wardz" ‘ St. Mary’s Star;" “ A Sweet Cru- sadez” “Tue St. Charles Banquet;" “Pearl Plant- ing,” etc: “A Brother's Temptatimi?’ “Having His Way ;” “ What It Your l” “ Dismeiiiborcd li‘rowns;" “A Laid (.lliost;" “The Chosen Tin-em" “After Glow ;” "Charley‘s Faith 1',” etc; "A Natural Selectionf’ “Joe’s (‘ircuiiistaiice;“ “The “'hitc Pelt,” ctc.; ” Keep the Memory Green!" Josrs, No. 10. The fashionable pm'ly hour is now fixed at ( levcti in the evening, to assemble. It, is, of coume, an absurd and indefensible custom, liu-i so long (H “ the r’i‘a” so order, you must obey or ab- jure their Society. DUNCAN D. The. so-cnllcd “storm-cluss ” is com- mrutivo-ly Worthless us a Weather indicator. The iquiil iii the tube is diluted ulcobol, holding in solu- tion sul umniouiuc, which crystallizes or becomes “cloudy” when the. bulb roofs, and is not. affected barometric-n]ly. if you require a. correct indicator obtain a ship’s barometer. A good one can ho ho for three dollars. IIICNII’ M. The fact that all lotteries are denied 'tlio use of the U. S. mails for distributing their various circulars or “scheme ” prospr ems-cs, is evi- dence of their illegal character. 'I‘lu y are all propem l/ classed as swindles. and are so even if certain States do " sanction ” them. Let them severely alone is our advice. They flourish on the patronage of dupes and fools. B. B. It is a brave step to take to be self-support- ing and to keep the mother with you. A youngr wo- man can hardly be "too independent” where she has to maintain herself, and if you have your mo- tlier‘s assent never mind “but 0! hers my, or make yourself unhapp if a certain class slight you. Those who know you )cst will admire you mosh—which ought to be a satisfactory reward for any sacrifices made. COUNTRY SEAT. Disparity Of ages, unless too great, is no serious barrier to marriage. Where there is, however, a difference of many years it can be, at best, but. a wedding of hands not Of hearts—a marriage of convenience. In that case the wo- man should have some extraordinary reason for the alliance. The “ struggle for existence,” we know, impels many a girl to seal up her love-life and to act from a sense of duty, but, all the same, it is deplorable. FRANK. Since the young lady has ex iresscd her repentance of her conduct and has aske you to be friends with her again you should not refer at all to the past. Either forgive her freely and gener- ously, and omit the slightest reference to your quarrel, and treat her with tenderness and respect, or else tell her—once for all—that you prefer to re- main to formal acquaintance. in a case of your kind there can be no half way measures. If you go back to her, you are bound to go back as a lover. DAVID S. S. Once a week is not too often for shampooing the head. Use. tepid water softened by a, few drops of ammonia, or tepid water and a. p issession of a citizen whose prominence of posi- tion is not bounded by his township, his county _ or his State, but. whose name is a household ‘ word, whose pictures are familiar to, and whose . character is known, not only throughout the na- l tion, but has adorned the pages and interested ' the readers of foreign Works and publicmions. We allude to our fellow—citizen, Hon. W. F. Cody, whose sobri‘quet of ‘ Buffalo Bill’ repre- Sents a popularity only bounded by the area of American territory, and to the worthy possrs may testify and to the modesty of its Wearing. His late return from a successful presentation to the East of some of the animated daily scenes and incfdents that go to form the assing history of ‘ The Wild West’ should e noted as are events of importancc, as it marks a new era in the history of amusements for its originality, adherence to truth in ‘ holding the mirror up to nature,’ and a fidelity to fact that is the ‘ true aim of art.’ ” ‘ Skeleton Cavalry. THE skeletons of twenty-three persons and about the same number of horses wero discov- ered in thanortbern part of Dickey county, Dakota, a. few da 3 ago bya party of explorers. They were four. in a valley in that singular range of bills extending from near Fort Pierre to the British line, near the head of the Moope river. Among the skeletons were found brass cavalry buttons, spurs, and other effects of mounted men, but no guns or implements of war. There were also some shoes remaining on the horses’ feet. That these are the remains of some party accompanied by an escort of cav- alry or of a detachment of cavalry there can be no doubt. It is thought they net with a violent death, andjthat the horses were probably killed as a last resort and their bodies used for protection. They have been there probably twenty years, as all connection between the bones has disappeared. Many skeletons have been found heretofore in other places in that region, most of which are believed to be those dians after the raid into Minnesota in 1803. Like ships at sea, which disappear and are never heard of again, the whole wild West is dotted over with nameless graves. It is, however, very strange that no record exists of these lost cavali-ymm. m Focused Pacts. THE government of British Columbia is pow- erless to prevent Chinese immigration. Men’s Christian Association in Tennessee. A MILES CITY (Montana) hunter reports a herd of buffalo numbering about 75,000 in the Belle Fourche. A LARGE hunting party, composed wholly of Methodist preachers, is operating along the Illinois river. ILLINOIS has produced 10 508 791 tons of 000' during the last year, an increase tons over the previous twelve months. THE discovery has been made in San Francis— co that somc of the Chinamen there are owned and have been bought and sold as slaves. THE North Pacific whale catch this season was 11.290 barrels of oil. 162 %4 pounds of bone, and 310,000 pounds of ivory—all worth $860 000. THE Sunday—sclinnl army of the world our officers and teachers, or a3 grand total of about 15 000 000. \vnrtb of cotton. 853 000.000 worth of (-nt'le, ‘ $7 000.000 worth of wot-l and mutton and $1,000 ' 000 worth of horses and hides. THE winnings of Hnnlan, the rim-smart, during the last five years amount to $70,000. Of this sum he has managed to save about. $40 000. of which $30 000 is invested in a hotel on Toronto Island. He has a wife and two children. TIIE total number of sailing Vessels of all the world is 48,704, gaueing 30.047137? tons. Of these more than a third CH‘I‘V the English flag, and less than a twentieth that of France, which ranks seventh. being below America, Italy, Germany, and Russia. COLORADO, the Denver Tri’bimc says, has a settled population (f 300,000, and a taxable on the subject of food and the markets in their relations to municipal hygiene. Dr. John S. Bil- lings affirmed that fifty—three diphtheria cpi~ dcmics. seven scarlet. fever epidemics and twelve tracad to the milk supply. THE rise and fall of the great lakes is uz» zling the old Settlers. At Grand Traverse by the water slowly rises for seven years, and then recedes for the same length of time. The Sault Ste. Marie mecrat says that the water in the “ Son ” is lowering every day. At. Traverse City the water is encroaching on the west side “ of the bay the Indy for her leftisnl to tr. kc your arm. A I does not take a gentleman's arm in the daytime un- less the. two are engaged, or the is old and feeble.» sion of which we, who live by his own fireside, A “high tea” is a hearty ten, a. meal half-dinner and l alf-sup ier. where. hot dishes as Well as cold ccedingly pretty pins. ed, knots. of al designs, oval or circular plaques. owls. and‘insccts and crabs are the rulln'v styles.— Hosiery of solid colors is now for men. Cardinal, marine blue, seal brown olives, and black are the favorite colors; but black has the preference. A fln cent , and a spun silk pair cost $1. the heart at all. an unpleasant sensation of stomach. accompanied sometimes bly a rising in the throat like water. taken in a cup of tea, or 11a] and water wi I keep farm animals too clean or neat. abundantly rewarded for all the attention you be- the pathetic poem, “ The Bridge of sighs.” was an Englishman. of 1,393,138 I ThouEli he wrote the. poem l't t‘erred The first line is a familiar quotation. . _ little that was “‘Olllly. of his talents. braces about. 13 400,000 scholars. and 1.000000 grmt MU.“ gentlemen friends? we should say: esked such a sacrifice ' band. retain, and perini‘, inn/'1'ch mi in such limiters. It will save future iiiil-l:~a,~:niitiiess or subservimiey. able and costly King ("unrles :puniels. valuation of 8110000000. representing an actual “’“m'i l"‘"‘“'““‘"“",‘ l"' . pronertv value, of $200,000,000. SI.” is traversed :lll‘t'kBlt‘g‘t‘S, long-r, .- nky ears, iiiid a Silky cont. by 3000 mi,“ 0f, railroad, and in 1882 her mines iue Lilllt‘llll Slifll‘lf'is are white spo ted \vllli dcc light of people of common-sense and to the ch in of the puppy-levels. am lather of pure white Olive or castile soap ——It is not ill‘pl‘ODEl‘ for you to continue your acquaintance with the lady, so long,r as she News you in a. friendly manner and shows [20 desire to discontinue it. You should take great care, however, not to im« pose upon her kindness, since the acquaintance be- gan in so remarkable a way. Also, be cnrrful lo treat her with profound respect, lcst she. doubt your sincerity. TrLr. TALE. You should ‘not have been angry {It in y are, served, iesides fruits, confections, and wines. The hour named in the. invitation will enlighten you as to the proper dress. Gentlemen always wear evening dress after six r. n.-——'l‘ho phonograph was invented by 'l‘hcs. A. Edison in 1877. It has not been put to much practical use as yet. ALBERT W. You can buy solid gold scarf-pins, in many 110‘" "ml "0ch designs from 33 up to $300 or more. For $3, $3.50, 4 mu 84.50. you can vet ex- iills, both round and e ongnt- the leading fashion For full dress, black lsnsod entirely. pair of black socks for full dress cost 5 WALTER L. J. “Heartburn” is not a disease of It is a species of indigestion. It is heat or burning in the A teas oonfu of magnesia, a glass of peppermint generally afford relicf.-— 'ou cannot You will be stow upon them. Young cattle are apt to be troubled with lice along their backs and necks. Kerosene oil diluted with an equal quantity of sweet oil or lard, and applied to the infested parts, will effect a speedy cure. DAMAGE. You can remove smoke stains, coffee, chocolate, or tea stains, or discolorations from dust or age, from all kinds them over the‘ fumes of white fabrics by lioldirg of burning sulphur. Only white goods can be so treated. If the spot is not very large, dampen tliearticle and hold the spotted of prisoners carried away by the retrmfing 1,,_ place over the fumes of some sulphur matches. ake care not to scorch the. fabric. f it. is a very large stain, you must use the sulphur itself. In a strong saucr-r throw some hot einders and some owdered brimstone. Over this place a funnel, leav- ng it raised a little on one side so that air may pa niidcr. Over the hole at the. top pass the dampened linen, until all spots disappear. MILITARY. A (in-goon is a soldier who is taught and armed to serve ( illicr on horseback or on foot, as the occasion may require. 1;. is said that the modern (lrauoous are of French origin, having been instituted by Chili-lust dc (losse, Marshal of Brisuc, about 1000. In 103'! there were low kinds of dru- goons distinguished as pikeiueii and lllllSkt'lf‘Cli-l. THERE are fifty-three branches of the Young The cl Greys, first. enrolled Nov. 19. 10%. name is a niatlerof much discussion, but knights called Ili'acoues. because they fought under the slink dnrd of a dragon. are of very ancient date, and many ctymologists believe that the their name from this, perhaps because a dragon was carved upon the spears and iuuskets they carried. (lest English regiment of drugnons is the Scots The origin of the drugomis borrowed JOHN M. Tom Hood-n famous humorlsl-wrnte IIOnd born in 179*, who died in 18-15. to above, and l " The Song of the Shirt, " and a few other sad pieces, he was more famous as —-The line you ( note. was written by Tom Brown, an Englishman, v: in lived from 1603 to 1704. stanza reads: a wit. than as a scriouspoet. The " l do not love thee, Dr. Fell, The reason wliv I cannot tell; lint. this uloncl know full well, I do not. love thee. Dr. Fell." Brown wrote He was a Morm’ L. ‘We know of no safe dc vilntory (hair remow-r.) Any work liquid (u' bin inciil strun TEXAS farmers sold Inst vcar $59000000 enough with acid or lllkllll to really kill lb “ e huir 'oots is injurious to the skin texture. The hair on he arms is not a serious bleinile—dt is ” pi up or “ to meet gentlemen friends at your friend‘s moms when it. is iiil‘ensitle cull at. your own heme. Your friend and her mother are very considerate, we should sny.~-Aer or inconvenient to have, them 'epliiig the. ‘attentions “ of e. gentleman is but a recognition of his eoui'tesies, and a proof of your respect or admir- ation, us the case may be. ‘ striic sm-h eotiI'tesi(~s.«-lf l mean—does an engaged in: v It it is vulgar to miscon- iv your last. query you . WI'P to drop all her an amaziiccd who Would make on exacting bus< Drop no friend whose fiieiidship you wish to “Don D." The most. rare, nrisldcrntie, fashion- uf yet dogs we the Blenheim and They have short uuwzles, ads, prominent and lovely. The 9 cd or brown; the King Charles sp .iiiels. wl icb are yielded $0,000,000 in gold and lead. ’ of the same breed, rrc blur-k. spotted with tan color. IN the course of a recent lecture in Baltimore “"1" “r” cleanly. dollars apiece: but there 'countryw not more than two or three in New York. {13110115 is itfspleprlidll: iuiel of these dogs at \\ iinlsorI . . . . c roya and y o nuglnii l leii w inderfullv f i typhold epidemics in England had been directly 0 4 ) I“ ( . ‘ m watchful, sugneious', soft iretly and They often cesl, ’ I in London, 11 thousand are few of them in this f tbcni.-— It is now the. flit’llloll for stylish yuiiiiz nieii to walk the streets accompanied by u )t'! " pug," With a bilge bow of ribbon on its back: Imbceile fashion, which only dudes and (:tln r idiots should be forgiven for copyin r. all sensible pcoplu to see a girl or woman carrying her pet ring around the stun-ta, and to see a. man do so is absolutely I‘twnlllni’. 'The. elevated railroads of New York will not admit any such fools Hit it is an In is nauseating to . . either inan r female. to their stat ons or cars. imch to the dc,- v www.- 4mm rt? I v. 'I‘“ ‘iKefiir':z‘:c Fireside Ballads. THE OLD GRAY HORSE. BY II. II. JOHNSON. Why don’t I sell the old gray horse, now that hc's old “ mid. lamc, “1th almost nothin’ but his skin to covcr up his frame? A Of coursc he isn't fit for work: I know hc‘s almost )illlt , And stiff; 'illllitJIll his for’ard logs, and spaviiicd bad .‘ HIM . He's ovcr thirty your old now; can hardly eat his my, And inostof folks would likely say lie’ 5 Oiilv in the way; N But, lllltilt‘l', nioiicy couldn‘t buy that old _ from inc! Iincan it, cv ry word I say; that‘s just the man I be. \Vlial makes me prize the horse so liigh‘: Just \\‘llil:‘l ll‘ll ’ 'What that old horse has dont- for inc and whvl wo:i't him r-‘c‘l; ' ' And \vllicii I’m through, 1 hardly think that you will ( isagrcc, But say you‘d never part with him Supposiu’ you was me. g‘l'iiy lioi‘St- listcii JV ‘ ' v . . It s 111in on thirty yeai ago that Sue. and me moved mm; This country all was forest than, without a neiglib )r iicar ' Exceptiii' bears _and wolves and such, the St‘ttl-‘ls' souls to ’t‘right,~— \Ve usi‘d to hcar ‘cni howlin" ’round ’iiiost cv'ry win‘ tcr night. But Sue and I were young, thcai days‘bccn mar- ried but a year, And lig'l our fortune all to make, and hadn’t time for car; We bllltt at little house of logs, and then commenced our 01 A»clearin’ up the farm we’d bought so we could till the $011. We had to drive ‘bout twenty miles to reach the nearest store Where we could buy our groceries to last a month or more; ‘Twould take about a day to go, by startin‘ soon's ’twas light, And buy such things as we might need, and git back the same night. One winter morning when the light just showed the coniin’ day, We hitched the gray colt up before the one-horse lumbcr-slcizh, And startcd for the distant store to buy our stock of goods; A long and lonely ride it was, ‘most all the way brough woods. We done our tradin’ at the store, and then my wife there, She, Had half a dozen calls to make upon some friends she knew, So that ’twas almost: sundown when we started on the road . With all our goods tucked in the sleigh, a pretty dc.- ccnt load. While we were in the store that day a-purcliasiii’ our goods, I heard a man there sayin’ that "twas dangerous in the woods; He said the wolves wore gittin’ starved and growin’ awful bold, And then some frightful stories ’bout their ravagin’, he told Of course I didn’t say a word of what I thought to V But counted cv’ry mile we made, as o’er the snow we flew, Till half the distance we had come, and then I heard a sound That scemcd to freeze my very soul, and made the gray colt bound. That Sound l’d often liearJ before—the half-starved wolf’s wild yell! But Ilfiw seemed to sound to me just like a funeral no ; And Sue she gave one little scream, and then clung close to me— I knew her face was pale as death, although I could- n‘t see. I felt my heart sink in my breast; I knew what that yell meant—— It: was the wild wolf 's rallying cry, unto his comrades sent. And quicker than I‘m tellln' you ’twas answered back again; And then I irayed for help from God, and gave the gray t o rein. I thought the gray was trivolin’ some before I heard at cry But after th.'t he stretched himself and almost seemed to flyl I The snowballs flew from ofl his hoofs like bullets past my head— ‘ The forest trees seemed whirlin’ by, as on our way we sped. I felt my heart grow lighter when the gray rushed on so ast And whispered ‘to my trembliii’ wife I thought the danger past; I But hardly had we both begun to draw an eaSIer breath Before I heard, quite near to us, that fearful yell of death! Into the woods, to right and left, I quickly cast my 0 '0‘ Anzl tlicrb, in two dark lines, I saw the wolves drawin’ night The gray colt saw them too, for with a. shriek human sound H3 Sprung ahead, his flyin‘ feet; seemed scarce touch the ground. a- of to But yet the lean, blood—thirsty wolves seemed faster still to gain; . We heard their feet a-patterin’ on the crust; like fall- ing rain. _ I quickly cast one glance behind, and there, as plain as day, I saw two wolves with open jaws, not twenty feet awayl I grabbed my rifle that 1:1yin the bottom of the sled, And with a quick but steady aim, 1 shot the first one dead! I The others stopped a. moment for to taste their brother’s flesh, And then with fierccr yells and howls they all came on afresh. once more I sent a bullet in amongst the howlin’ But w one was hit or not, they didn’t all stay But Oil!) came a-rusliin‘ like the very hounds of Makiriletlllie old woods echo with each fearful howl and yell 1 But we were noarin’ home; at length our clearin hove in sight. And from the windows of our house the light was sliinin’ bright; . I seen our faithful hircd man a-standin’ in the door, And then I yelled with all my might, as ne’er I’d yelled be fore: " ThrOm open both the barn-d0)”, John. and lzt us (1115 1:11, in ,' We‘re vidi 1’ fm'om' lives this lime! God gmnt that are M W 11' in l” The faithful fellow lost no time the order to obey, 'While close behind, the foremost w olvcs had almost reached the sleigh. 0n dashed the gray colt for the barn faster than fleet winds blow, . While from his nostrils foam-flecks sped like mon- strous flak as of snow. The barn was reached; the gray colt’s hoofs thun- dered upon the floor. _ I And John’s strong hands, with one quick jerk, quickly swung-to the door. But none too soon, for one gray wolf came in beside the sled ; i . A blow John gave him with the ax soon 111d him stark and dead, And then with SW’L‘lllll’llleaI‘tS we thanked the God v rules on hi: i For bfiililgin’ us all safely home when death had been so nigh. When I recall that fearful night, I almost lose my breath To think how near both Sue and me were to a fear- ful death- ‘ And but for God who rules above, and gave the The 0 Sail-331125333321 have seen that night a dark and bloody deed. I made a. vow that very night to keep the noble And gdgévkor him as best I could, until his dyin’ So, (10:29:11 wonder any more why money can’t him uv? I think. had you been in my place, you’d done the same as I. '.,,,,,mis rm. "nun. 3% (a)??? lilti Pop HlSKS, Showman; 0R. Lion Charley’s Luck. A TALE 0F CIIRCIIS RIVALRY. BY CAPT. FRED. WIII'I‘TAKER, AUTHOR OF “i-Ansox Juli,“ “JOHN ARMSTRONG, )fl-Z- mimic," rxrc., ETC. CHAPTER I. ’l‘Wo FAST vorivo MEN. Two young' men were driving along a country road in \Vcsli-rii Now York, not far from the Penn- sylvania bordcr. They \u- ".1 fine—looking and well dressed; scan-d iii a tivc~liundrcd-drillar wagon. be— hind a pair of blooded buys that made the dust fly at a rattling gait. as they spcd along. The driver .vorl- dorskin gloves, a ’v‘tlth‘l-‘i‘ll cut~ away, shiny hut, Solitaire diamond pin, and glossy black iiiustal-lic. ll» infill llll' ribbon}; with the l-zuowing air of an old sport; while his companion, on effcuiiiiatc-lvnikiiig bluu Io. Wore the sarnc sort of clothes, :1 inuzc‘i to the soli'airc, and was alil.|",t‘tll l‘ a diluted copy of his friend, whom he iiiiitau-d in all things. ospcci.:lly iii \‘ic '. The young urtn who drove. would have been luv» treincly handsome but for a certain cruel look in his dark cyr-s. and a way of c \nipic-xsiiig- his lips un- dcr the black iiiiisfaciiciilicti li- whipped up his horses, that gavc liiiii tlic air of one who s'ruck to hurt, every time. His friciid was smoking a cigar and leaning: la/.ily back as they liowlx-d along, «‘llj=i_\'ill: the r ipid mo- tion; till one of the horses shied at a white mile pom: by the roadside, and tli - dark man, with a furious oath, cut his team So ci'uclly that the bloiidc man exclaimed: "For heaven‘s sake, Stone, don‘t! run away." “ Run away bc——” Mr. Stone uttered a curse of peculiar l:if‘.ll'.{ilil-)', and jci'kcd at: his liorscs’ bits wliilc ii a dog:th rhoni savagely with a whip that had a piece of wire twist- cd info the snapper. “Run away? I'd like to see them. their cursed jawbones!" he cricd. “ I’ll teach than to say 3“ And they (lashed on, the horses jcrked so savagely that they were dancing over the roid, when they heard a shrill, angry scream from a crossdaiie, that entered the road a little way ahca l. The next moment the colossal form of a huge ele- phant made is appearance close by, the beast throwing its trunk aloft above a huge pair of tusks. and trumpeting,r siirilly! Stone's friend uttered a cry of terror; the horses gave a furious plunge to one side, dragging Stone half out of the buggy; and then, with a squeal of Tth might I’d break pasSionatcly. ' ‘x mortal terror, away they went down the road. op- osite to that from which the elephant lial come, Pull speed, runningr away to all intents: and purposes. despite the utmost efforts of their driver, whose face had paler], and whose best skill was bent to the one purpose of keeping the team straizht—if he. could. The horses were fairly mad vith fear, and the ele- phant came trotting after the bug iv with huge strides, trumpeting in the same angry tone. “ Oh my God, Stone, we'll be killed!" cried the fair firm, and he clutched the rail C; the buggy as if to leap out. Stone made no replv'. He was too busy hauling at his horses to keep them straight in the road. which described a. curve, as he knew, n'l ended on a railway bridge about a mile off, over a fifty-foot cutting. \Vh are the elephant had come from, how the brute got there, Stone never heeded. It; was them, and his horses were going to take him into destruc- tion, if he misse l the narrow bri lge. Away went the buzgv like a flash, and the blonde man was white as a sheet with fear, littering craven lamentafion =. till his friend hissed viciously out of the side of his mouth: “ Shut up, you cursed cowardl scare them worse?” The blonde was silenced, and sat there, clinging to the rail, fill at last he ventured to look back up the. road. _ . The elephant was still there, but he saw beSide. it a crowd of wagons and people, while a single figure on horseback was crossing the fields, lca )inz fences in the way. cutting across the chord o the curve taken by the road, and trying to get; ahead of the buggy. ‘ ' Then George Leonard turned to look ahead again, and the team had come to the top of a slope, at: bottom of which was the railroad cutting and bridge across it. ' The bridge was broad enough for two vehicles to pass, but at the entrance there was no fence to guide a runaway team toward. it, and another road led aside so invitiugly that it was a toss—up whether the team Would not go for the gap and over the edge of the steep cutting. Stone was livid as he saw his danger, but he man- age] to so. ', in broken, jerky sentences, as he tugged at the reins: I " \Vlien you can’t do aiiytliiiig——clse—~jumpl Curse. them! I’ll break their necks as—wcll 5 my own i" Leonard was just pieparing to jump when a. new actor came on the scene. _ A larlv on a chestnur horse came flying over the rail fence into the road, and in another moment was ' llo )inar bv the horses. ea“ Llet go their heads !” slic screamed, as they flew along—“let go their heads!" Stone niizlit not have obeyed. had he not bczun to weaken from his intense exertions. He did relax his ri . quie Fady was already on the si-le of the gap, gal- loping on, and he heard her talkin : to the liois -s, soothingly, while she a'ted them encouragmgly, not attempting to cliec v them. She kept on the side oft he gap. and they neared it, with her riding whip she ke if. flgcking the near horse on the side of the ace ' to keep him from swervni . In twcg; minutes more they thundered over the bridge, full speed. and came. to a steep hill on_ the other side, up which the now foaming team tOiled, at a much slower pace. “ Steady, boys, steadyl So. so! Gentlv, gently! Steadyl W’oa!” cried t e lady ahead. in clear, girl- ish tones, as she patted and soothed them, till they Blackened to a trot. Then she turned round on Stone the very pr *tty, saucy face of a girl of eighteen, framed in short, curly hair. and called out: 0 “ Now, young fellow. now’s your time! Pull them D) you want to Stone immediately gave a savage jerk to both reins, and Sci his horses to rearing and plunging again. when the girl screamed: “ Not that way, man! You‘re not fit to have horses! I ought to hav- let you break your neck, and served you right. Gently, gently! So, so!" And somehow or other. under her soft voice and gcnflo touch. the mad tcani came to a stand-still. trembling all over, blown, with heaving flanks, covered with foam, and Leonard exclaimed, fcr- veufly: “ Thank God! I thought we were gone!" Ston i. on the other hand, looked savage and mor- titled to the last dcgrce, though he said: “ Madam. I'm lllllt'll indebted to you, \vhoevcr yfliln arc; but as for those confounded circus people, The girl interrupted him with a merry laugh, as she held up her whip, saying: ' I “Take care, young fellow; take care. that show mysclf.“ Then, as the two young men were too much dum- foundcd to uii>wcr, she went on, with a wave of her hand: " l’iii sorry King Philip fi'iglitcncd your team, and I've done my bcst to prevent harm; but you ought to have l-Ln- leI we vcre coniinzr. Our bills have bccn I belong to through bore for a week. (food-day. gciitlcun‘h. Hope you want suffer any ill t‘OllSt‘tlll‘dlCLS from your {lt,'t,'liltfl!i."‘ Siic inclined her head slightly, whcx led her horse. Which. now it was close by. they saw to be a beauti- t'ul, slender. tliorouelibri d mare, and was just sfirtiiig otl‘ \vhi ii Stone said liix'riedly: “ Excuse nic, misc, but we owe you our lives. If you had not come up when you did, we might have gone over the bank.” She tossed her head slightly. "Oh. that's nothing. I knew the road. and father toll me to cut you off. I’ve r.o time to stay here. Goodwin)?” " lief at least.“ cried Stone. “ tell me your name, that I may know yuu again." She laughed at him in a way that embarrass-9d the bold sport, who, now that he saw she. was cxcecd- ingly pretty, had i'csnlvcd, in his own phrase, to " make a mash for all he was worth." " My nam she replied. curling her red lip. “Oh, what are you givingr me? If you want to know, come to the show and bring your friends. \Yc want a few diaaioud‘piiis in the reserved seats, to light up the house." “ I should say your eyes were sufficient for that," returned Stone, instantly. She laughed out right. " \Vell, you‘re sick, young fellow,“ she said. frank- ly. “ My eyes won't pay for reserved seats, and your diamonds may—that is, if they're real, of course.” Stone instantly drew his from his bosom and held it out. saying: “ Take it, my love, and keep it in memory of me. I my. what is your name?" The man thought, from the frank way of the girl, that she was ccqicfting and willing to talk witn 3}?““9' ’\ ‘ air/“l 7.” “ him, but when he held out the diamond she colored high, and answered ban :litilv: “ l’m not your love, sir. Keep your old paste pins for yourself.” Then without another word she wheeled licr mare and gallip Nd away across the bridge up the road. down which iii iv had comi. At the end of this road, where if crossed fhn turn- pike. they coull now see gathered quite a crowd of vehicles and people. in the midst of which the giant form of the elephant towered. “ It‘s that circus we saw the bills of, as we passed Popokns'.” iwmarkcd George. Leonard, as he pulled out a field—glass from under the carriage seat and took a long survey of the group. “ They’re break- ing up now and moving on. and the girl’s goingr bick to them. I say. Colden, don‘t she ride pretty. and isn’t she a regular witch? I swear I’ve a mind to go to that show for fun just to get acquainted with that girl. She’s a daisy." Stone curled his 1i slightly as he turned his horses round to walk Back. "Ride? Of course. That’s her business. Yes, she’s confounded pretty. I guess I 1(‘2’! go to the Show. Ggorge. But i/m/ haven’t got a chance.” “ Why not ?" inquired George, nettlcd. “Why not? Because that girl knows the ropes. you bet. Those circus women all do. It's the stamps she’s after. Didn’t you see her eve glitter when she saw the diamond? I’ll get round that girl yet, my boy." f Geolrge Leonard flushed slightly as he answered his I‘lf‘ut : “ We’ll see about that, Coldcn. I’ve got a word to say too. She looked at me twice as much as she did at you.” Stone smiled rather contemptuously. “ Go ahead, (1 :ar boy. I won’t interfere with your little game. But I’ll bet you an even thousand I cut you out.” They were a precious pair: George Leonard, the son of a rich mine-owner. who had inherited vast wealth and had nothing to do but spend it; and ‘tone, his mentor in the arts of spending, with wits and audacity for capital. “‘ 0/1 ’6'! A. S one, Min '77 7 Broke-1” was the title of his blisincss card, but he lived clzietly by the fluctua- tions in stocks and the follies of the public that at- tends at horse-races and backs favorites. And he lived well, judging from his teams and dia- mrmds. “ Ay, ay,” he went on, as he walked his foaming horses slowly across the bridge, and looked at the place of their escape, “ it wasn’t much the girl did. after all. She's riding all the time. and has a good horse. If we h rd gone over, it would have been all their fault, with their brute of an elephant. I’m g0- ing to {49* even with those men for frirhtening my team. You see if I don’t do it. Georg-1.” For the saving of his life he had no thanks. CHAPTER II. POP HIcKs‘s snow. THE town of Popokns is Celebrated, all over the western part of the State of New York, f. '1' its inan- ufactories of ham >ss and saddlery, and for the quanthy of people it turns out to see a circus. Popokus is known as a “ good two-(‘ay stand for a wagon show " in the business though it does not pay for the monster coriCems that have more than a thousand hand; on the pay-roll. At ordinary times it will send any circus out of its [hits with a. full treasury, and the factories are forced to suspend business when the shows come into town. But on the evening after the adventure of Stone and Leonard with the elephant, Popokus was all agog with delight. . Two shows had come. to the town at one time. and Occupied green lots, exactly opporire to each other, where two brass bands discoursed rival melodies. where two stentorian-voiced men stood at the gates up; they're pretty well tired now.” roaring the praises of their shows, till even their lungs failed, and they were. reduced to hoarse whis- pci's: n hilc the po )ulacc. in bewilderment as to which show was to )e the best, vibrated from one side to the other. and had to be run in by main force and persuasion combined. as the “ outsidc men " got a (‘llillli‘tf at them. Sti‘ctclicd along the top of one show was a broad Cdlth‘LS stim-amcr that read: “ For HICKS, KING or Snowman." On the other side was a gigantic face, mcar '- Tug twciity feet from chin to forehead, with the leg “ G. BRAch llowxssn’s Snow or ALL 880‘ Around tlicsc cciitral legends were group‘d pic- tur-‘s of horses, lions. tigers, elephants, birds, acro- huts and riders. cxecut lug marvelous feats, With 1::- gciids attaclicd', and if was so hard fortlic simple folk of l'opokus to decidc which show was the most worthy of patronage that most of them actuallv staycd away from bt'lll. I l' was gutting nrar eight, o‘clock, the hour for the pcrf‘ormanrc to begin. and >till thc tents were by no means full. when a stout old man, with around, inci'ry facc and siioiv—r-rliiic l‘lili'. bustlnd past the ciit'uncc (If “Pop Illl l' Show," and said to the hours ‘—voic(-d man outside: "Whoop ’ciii up. lilly; whoop ‘ein no ” ’l‘lic foutcr rcplicd in a ruciul whisper: “ (lll'\"ii«‘l', I‘m played. They won‘t whon fora ccnl. lluin‘t no voice left.” The old man —~it was Pop Hicks liimsclf—lookcd kcciily at the crowd in front and over at the rival snow. Tilt‘ tonicr on the other side had ceased to bcllow, and his arms waved iii a frantic n1annci', while his lips l '-ovcil. but no sound came from them. “ llc‘s gone too, Billy!" chuckled Pop Hicks, a grin. Thcii as he looked at the people, still hesitatng between the shows and filling the open space in a dense crowd, he struck his fort-head. and mut- tered: , " Stoopid—stoopidl Why. that‘s jcst the racket to catch ‘cni. Hold on, Billy: 1"?! work ‘cm.” lie dashed info the iiiclosure again, rushed into the tent. crosscd the ring at a run, and came tearing into the space bcliiiid, where stable and dressing- rooni are combined. “Herc, boys!" he cried. “ Who’s ready—who’s ready? All of you I want you!" The performers were gathered round, with old coatstlirown over their tights, and the stablemen were giving the last touches to the harness when he entered. Toni Fowler. the bareback rider, a little dapper fellow with a waxed mustache, jumped up to an- swer: "‘ I‘m ready, guv’ner. What’s the racket?” “Get out. the whole caboodle of you.” said Pop Hicks excitedly. “You’ve got five minutes left. Ride like Old Scratch round the tent and whoop up the guys. They don’t know where to go, sir—don’t know, by gosh! \Vhoop ’em up, boys, whoop ’em with “Let go their heads l" she screamed9 as they flew along—“ let go their heads!” upl Show Bewnsso a trick in show business. That’s it, my boys. Old Pop‘s hard to beat." And in fact the quick-Witt (1 men and women of he show took the ltint at once. and turned out in ixiav‘vclonslv short order. Old Pop Hicks did not wait to see the effect of his lith ‘ strafazem. for he had to play the clown in his own show and had not yet dressrd. He hearl a gainf- shouting.’ and cheering outside, as the brilliantly—dressed circus performers rode out and Cll’le‘tl the tent at a gallop, executing a few simple feats to attract the crowd, and muttered to himself: “I knowed it—I knowed it. That‘s your snrt.” Then came the thundering of feet on the plan':s in the tent, that told how the crowd had begun to pour in; and the old man went on wit‘i his hurried toil-9t, as the rest of his poo 10 came riding in at the back door. laughirg to eae other. “ How did ye do it—liow did ye do if?” cried Pop Hicks in his big bass voicv, as he kicked off his trows us an 1 showed himself in his clown’s tights. “ What did yc say?” “ Told ’em the racket was going to begin and dashed in; that‘s all.” replin Tom Fowler. laugh- in':. “ Gavc ’cm a free stand on the old mare’s back, and rode in jest as they thought I was going to Jump. ’ Pop Hicks ran to his dressing-table to put on his clown wig, and talked all the while he was adjusting it and laying on the streaks of red and white on his jolly face. "Where’s Rabbetts? Tell him to whoop up the band. and start the entry going. We‘ve got ’em now, boys.” [Dab dab of the puff over his face, till he was white all Over like a corpse ] “\‘i‘hcrc‘s that band? Confound ’eml why don’t they carn their money and play?” Then, as the thunderingr of feet outside continued, he picked up the rougc‘pot and made a circular (lab on each cheek. fr.'Sllt}llQ(l. the end of his nose, and continue 1 the lint- of his lips till he seemed to be ginning from ear to ear, and his toilet was com- ) Ate. I Ti.e moment he heard the band in the tent, and s. the men and women on horseback filing out of the stables for the “ opening cavalcade,” his nervous inainlici' ceased. and he smiled to himself as he mut- teret : “ I‘ncro—therc, ’t'iin’t my fault if she don’t go right. I've dl me all I can, and 1 can’t do more. Pop Hicks is bird to be it ” And so saving, with the showman’s resignation to good or bid luck which lie cair-ot explain to him- self, he went to the entrance of the stables to look into the ring, not expecting much, and saw that; the tent was packed with people, who were still settling in'o their s 1am, with more pouring in. The old showinaii’s smile expanded as he looked. almost to the dimensions of that painted on his c eck, and he turned to a big raw-boned man, dressed in green velvet and gold lace, to say: h “ Well, Jiin, well? We got ’em that time, ev?“ Jim Perkins was the sole owner and performer of the elephant, King Philip, which had caused such a. commotion that day—a very tall. brawny fellow, with a dark. stem-looking face. He cast a glance ovr-r the crowd and answered indifferently: “Hum! Pretty well. If they wouldn’t come for King Philip nothing would fetch ’em. It don’t look well for us to be bucking ag‘in’ Bownsse a hull sea.- son. One of us has to go under. and he’s got a. big- ger pile nor you to back him. Hicks.” . Old Pop Hicks bit his lips with an air of vexation. He was an oldfashionej showman, who liked to be on friendly terms with all his peo le. and “Elephant Jini Perkins” was the first man 1e had been unable to get along with pleasantly. “I don’t. know what you mean. Mr. Perkins," he said, rather stifflv. ” I never went back on my en- Fetch ’em in, boys. l Eagemcnfs yet. and I’ve got a better show than he as or the guys wouldn’t come in as they do.” Elephant Jim curled his lip. “The season ain't over _\ct. and the only rurc thing in circus biz ise Saturday night and settlin’ up. Pop Hicks turiicd round on him sharply. “ IIith‘ I ever failed mm. Saturday night?” “Don‘t say ye havc, but cf things gocs on this way l-Iownsse is goin’ to hurt us." replied 1* rkins, (logniafically. “ You know that, l'op. dint you?" Pop looked l.is grumbling IUIIUWCI in the eye as he answered steadily: “ If he does, it’s my loss, not yours, Jim. I'm running this show, and if lfiowiiscc chooses to buck against me, it’s my lookout and not yours. All I want of ~on is to do your act and keep your l rung, from frig llOlllllfJ the guys. I‘m more afraidl of that than I am of Bownssc.” Perkins was about to answer when a darrcr little gentleman, with a bald head, lingo dark lllllrlilt’llf) and velvet cont came out of a drcssingri ,« »in, (ii awiiig the lash ofalong whip through his l’lllltl. and ap- proached Pop with the bland lGilllil‘lC. ill thc deepest of bass voices to come from so small a man: “Goodwin xii/:31, Mr. 111' ism.” He had a war of myinz: the ill! st (’Dlllllltlllplnf‘e things in an "ratorz‘cal inuniici'. "y 1;, his words sc "v t * ‘ Hlt‘SS people with tho l:l hot" that to was a per-I, ' » “cat wisdom, and he ot'iiciatcd as ring- inas‘icr in [Ur show: Pop {licks at once became jolly again and exc- Cnted a profound reverence. saying: “ l‘xo-fessor. your iiil'sf (lit-dicin. and how does your ponderosity sajaciafc l“-lll,'_‘,lll. sir?“ He was so used to talking nonsense iii the ring as clown that he did it behind the scenes whenever he saw his confederate, l’i‘ofcssor llabbcits, the ring master. “Pretty well, thank you, sir,” returncd the Pro- fessor, with fuiiereal gravity; "pretty well—yes, pretty well—pretty well—preit ' well.” “ Does it run champagne * ’ inquired Top anx- iously. “Does it, Professor: “ Does what run champagne, sir? Does what run champagne? What do you incan, sir? What should run champagne, sir?” Professor Ribbeth asked these questions slowly and pompously in the style he. used in the ring, which had become from long habit second natuic with him. “ Does what rim champagne. sir? “That pretty well you spoke of. Bygoslil ifit does, it’s a splendid wcll," returned the old clown, with an oily cliucklc at his own poor joke, and so great was the force of habit that Professor Rabbetts immediately cracked his whip and announced: “ Ha’m’selle Celestine. in her unparalleled manch act.’ “It's not time,” called out a voice from a dressing- {corn nearby. “ I don't go on till after Tom Fow- er. A pretty, saucv face was poked out from between the curtains, framed in short curls of the very lightest flaxen; a face with a little turn-n ) nose and very dark—blue eyes, a perpetual curl to t e red lips, as if the owner were laughing at. something. “What are you calling on me for?" she asked. “ It‘s not my turn.” "Absence of mind, Miss Sally, absence of mind." returned Rabbetts, with a flourish, “absence of ISniliid,”I assure you—yes, yes, absence of mind, Miss 21 V. “ Are you sure you’ve got any to be absent?” asked the girl, saucily. Rabbetts gave a snort. “Ha! ha! very good, very good—bat hat—good, very gOod—ver~y—goou—llliss-Sally-any to be absent ~good—ha! ha!” “ on. give us a rest with your very good,” the girl returner], as saucily as before. “You make my head ache when you hear a good thing, Rabbetts.” Then to Hicks: “Say, pa, how’s the house?” “Very good, Sally, splendid,” returned Pop Hicks, smiling all over. “ Hurry up, child. Here come the people in, and Perkins goes on next. Don‘t make a wait. Sally Hicks made a face at her parent. “ Did I ever make a wait- yct?" she asked. “Wish you could say the same for all your people. Ta-ta. 'm nearly ready.” Then she vanished, and the rustling and giggling in the ladies’ dressing—room showed that eople were dressing in a hurry in there, while, outsit e, the opening cavalcade came tearing info the stables. Then Professor Rabbetts, with his usual stately stride (albeit his legs were of the shortest), marched into the ring, to be followsd by P0 Hicks a moment later, turning a clums somersau t: and coming up smiling, to rear, with t e lungs of an old clown the ancient gag: “ Well, Professor, and how does yrnr ponderosity sagaciate on this bright and beautiful, not to say stllcgtliferous evening, sir? How’s that for high? a. The usual interchange of venerable witticisms fol- lowed; Pop Hicks doing his best, inspired by the large audience around him, till the time came for the introduction of King Philip, the rent elephant. Then they backed aside, and the ol manager had a chance to ins ect the reserved seats more closely, being unnotlce as the elephant came lumbering in. On the front row were several gorgeously-attired gentlemen, with diamonds on, and each held a large and expensive bouquet of flowers in his hand. CHAPTER III. THE nio'rous DUDES. THE old manager was not surprised at the sight of so many sports, for he knew that his pretty daugh- ter, who rode her chestnut mare. Flirt. in the man- ége act, had been afavorite in all the towns they had passed through, and more than one rich man had come dangling after her. He only grinned, and muttered to himself: “ Lord, what fc ols some folks are! But it’s all good for the business.” Then the great (leplianf came in with Jim Per- kins, gorgeous in green velvet and gold lace. and executed its usual feats. throwing up its master from the end of its tusks in a somersanlt :0 its head, kneeling and firing guns at command, till it finally lumbered out of the ring. As it went, Pop noticed that Perkins had to prod it severely several times, and that the beast uttered an angry cry; but he thought nothing of it {ill be heard one of the sports behind him say, audi- v: “ That brute‘s not safe. to have in sliow. Some day there will be a bad accident He nearly iiillctl me this morning; it ought to be put in the papers.” The words disturbed the manager Incie than he cared to show. Asamatter of fact. Kin': Philip was an ill-fem— pcred beast, who was kept in order by excessive Severity; but Pop Hicks had no fears about an acci‘ eiit. What he diti fear, was that the disposition of the elephant might be exaggerated in the papers, and fiigliten away people. And the man who spoke was sitting next to a youth with a note-book, who opened a whispered conversation with him instanter. Pop Hicks had all a manager’s fears of a news- paper, and he immediately si-lled off to the entrance of the stables. and called out, Soho 2‘066’ .' “ Send Mr. Moone here at once, when I come off.” Then he dashed on again. and was more funnv than ever during the pad—riding act of M'i‘iii’chle Hip lyte. who made her appearance in all the-glory of s iort skirts, and leaped through the hoops in the apgroved style. . e kept a sharp lookout on the little reporter and the sports during the act. and as soon as it was over went to the stable entrance. where he found a little, weary—looking man, shabbily dressed, to whom he said rapidly: “ on’re not attending to your business. There‘s a fellow queering ‘l our show to a reporter about King Phihp and the runaway team to-day. Eon ll see him. Black mustache—diamonds. Go and put the newspaper guy straight.” Mr. Moone nodded and slipped off among the men of the audience. till he got to the reporter. when Pop Hicks smiled with satisfaction to see him take his seat by the diamond-studded gentlemen and en- ter info conversation with them. “Good boy. Moone," he niutfered._'as he went on again. “He’ll put the guy straight." Then came Mr. Tom Fowler, who went through his bareback act with great applause, but Pop Hicks noticed that the sports in the front row paid little attention to him. and frequently laughed to each other, as if sneering. . When the bareback act was over. Pop Hicks felt his heart beat in spite of liim5¢1f, old showman that he was. His daughter was the next to perform, and he could not get over the little flutter of anxiety that her appearance always caused him, confident as he was of her success. In fact, Sally Hicks, little slender girl that she was, hardly weighing a hundred minds, executed one of the most difficult and peri ous felts in the whole show at the close of her mwnfige act, when she leaped four hurdles in close succession. and con- cluded by a flying leap over a twelve-foot banner. If her horse was not fresh and vigorous, it was very apt to fall over one of the hurdles, and in that case ‘ A lady for whose opinions I entertain the highest respect, and of whose broomstjck I stand in awe, objects to the exchange of wittictsms between the ringmaster and clown in this chapter, thatnit is, in her picturesque hrase, “old as the hills. To be true to nature it ad 10 be so. If anyof my readers can discover a circus clown who has invented a new joke since the discovery of America by Christopher Columbus, he can make a fortune—for the clown—— by publishing the lucky man's full name With the joke appended—AUTHOR. 1‘“ ueering" a show is running it down. A “ queer ” show is a. poor one. illmmuuuunlmmdm a bad accident was very likely to happen. And Flirt had had a. hard ride that very morning over high fences. to save the buggy from going over the bank. The old man made his jokes as usual, till the. time , came to retire, when he ran to the stable entrance, to find his daughter there, saucy as ever, on the mare, waiting for the bell to send her out: 1 , ’ ' “How’s Flirt?” he asked, anxiously. “Can she _'!, go through, Sally? If you're afraid, say the word, -. , and we’ll drop the last leap.” ., " . Sally laughed and shook her head. . \ “Flirt’s all right. pa. Don‘t you be afraid. How are the guys?” “ Packed c ose, Sally, like sardines. There’s a lot ’ of mashers in diamonds. mth bokays. .in one place. .‘ . , Look out fur 'em. They may skeer Flirt.” 'i , . “ All right, pa. I‘ll know what to do.” --' ' Then came. the “ ting ."’ of the bell, and the Pro- , fess-3r announced in base tones: “ Ma‘m’selle Celestine, in her unparalleled and v. ‘ ‘- daring manege act! Ma’m'selle Celestine!” ‘? " " Then came a roar of applause as the chestnut '. » . -. . mare dashed out, with her trim little rider in a plain , -- . brown habit and black high hat, and circled the ring "; ’ ' , “ ._ e at a slow canter, the girl bowing in answer to the ’ ’ - ' ap lause. ittle Sally Hicks, under her ring name of Mlle. Celestine. was the great attraction of Pop Hicks’s show; his sure card. ‘ She understood the art of the. manf-ge to perfec- tion. and understood, too, the art of concealing the mealins she used to produc: her effects, equally we! . . .- She moved her hands but little, and then almost . - 7' im erceptibly. had her riding-whip of the same color as er mares hide, and kept it down, so as to be ‘ very nearly invisible. c When Flirt stood still in the arena and pawed the . air with one forefoot in time to the music, then * changed to the other, and finally alternated between the two, people thought the horse had been taught by music; and no one recognized the little pats of whip and spur, the little tugs of o .e rein and the other, by which, first one foot, then the other, was made to do its duty. When Flirt trotted round the ring in the peculiar airy gait known as the “piaffer,” few knew that her rider. with rein, whip and spur, regulated the length of every pace, while she sat in the saddle ap- parently unmoved. The most difficult part of the performance was, in fact, that which exalted least up lause; and it was . reserved for the showy leaping mish to call forth the hearty clappings of the crowd. The manege act was successfully executed, and fhe men were running in to set the hurdles for the cap. - Sully sat on her horse at one side of the ring, waiting for the set, when. as if by one motion, the row 0 men whom Pop had told her of as the “mashers,” stood 11 together; and the leader, who was Mr. Stone, in a oud voice observed: “Ahem .’ Alum!” Sally turnel her head and saw them all on their feet. extending their bouquets to her, when Stone, n in a voice that would not have shamed Professor Rabbetts, cried out theatrically: “Beautiful Celestine, accept these flowers from me, as a token of profound admiration and undying affection.” Sally looked at him sharply and saw little Moone, the agent, beside him. She thought that it was a stroke of business, so bowed and took the bouquet ., amid much applause, when the other men declaime *' . in chorus like college boys as they held up their ' ‘ bOlK nets: . , “ eautiful— Celestine—accept—these—flowers— i ' _ from—us—too—too—too.” 3; ‘ ' 1 , Then she Colored and laughed rather angrily, as - she said to Moone: “Take them to my dressing-room. How can I hold them all? You must be sick. Moone.” r - Then she started her horse, bouquet and all, at f"; " the, hurdles, and went over them with much ap- ’ U - i . . plause. ‘ The men with the bouquets sat down while she made the. first round, but on the second they all rose -, ! up again. waving the flowers; Flirt started and I C' _ ' ‘ ~ shied; knocked down a hurdle, and the next moment , I. ~ ‘ s'ood up on her hind legs and began to waltz round, v ‘, ‘ while Sally cried to the men in the ring: , j: , ~ “ Take them away. It‘s those sick dudes. They've .‘ni v‘ spoiled my act.” ' V The men ran away with the hurdles, the mare came down, and the rider brought her to the stable door. calling out to the attendants: “ Bring the banner! I’ll finish.” The huge banner, twelve feet broad was hurried in; the girl backed her mare to clear it, and was just starting. when the body of “mashers ‘ who had re- fused to give up their bouquets to Moone to be car- ricd in, jump up again and began to declaim their chorus: , “ Beautiful Celestine,” etc. , ‘ This time. Flirt shied more violently than !'before, and reared up, while the girl cried passionately: “ Put them out! They’re doing it on purpose to i. - spoil the act.” ' 1- ' - , Her words were heard, and in a moment a rush of ’ - the circus men was made to the spot where the dis‘ turbers were placed. Old Pop Hicks kept cool, however, and said as he took his stand: “ Sit down, gentlemen. You’re scaring the horse. Sit down.” , “ Sit (loam be hanged!” answered Stone, in a. ,-' , A ' ‘ bullying tone. “Don’t you know how to treat gen- ‘ y firemen when they come to your show? The girl in- " sulted my friends. She wouldn‘t take the flowers.” “ I‘ll take them and see she gets them,” Pop Hicks answered firmly. “You can‘t interrupt the er- formance, sir. Other people have rights as we! as on.” b He saw that the whole party had been drinking .- heavily. Stone and Leonard worse than the rest; and the pco le in the show were beginning to get 11p out of t leir seals and buzz, while a panic was im- rninent. He took his decision in a moment, and sail hur- riedly to his men: “ Hold them if they fight. I’ll speak.” Then he rushed to the center of the ring and roared: “ Ladies and gentlemen—don’t be alarmed—only . , , anlislak‘c—lll’fi') gentlemen want to give Celestine a, ,1 : some flowers. and they‘ve scared the horse. Please ‘ sit down. It will be over in a minute." His voice calmed the excited people, of whom , H , v a many were women and childen, and they settled . g '. . into silence, when he went back to the obnoxious - ‘ dudes and said sternly: "Now. if you want to give those, flowers, give them. If you want to make a disturbance, you can have it. Which is it?" ! Leonard, who was pot-valiant, instantly threw his 3 bouqunt down, crying: I " 'I‘o blazes with you and your circus girls. Come along, boys. Let‘s get out and go to the other show, where they know how to treat a. gentleman properly." "Best thing you can do,” retorted Pop Hicks sharply. "Your kind are no good in a decent < s )0\\'. The words were hardly out of his mouth when , Stone uttered a savage curse and put his hand to his hip pocket, an action imitated by his friends Before a weapon could be drawn, the active. powerful circus men were on them, and had them clinched. In three seconds more thev were hauled out of their seats and dragged to the door, while Pop Hicks. in the middle of the ring, cried: H \ “Keep your seats, Indies and gentlemen. Only a little too much whisky aboard; that’s all. No danger!" He signaled to the band and it struck up a lively air instantly. Before the. air was finished the ex- citement was over; the men brought out the ban— ner; and little Sally made her leap amid such thun- ders of applause that it was evident the audience sympathized with the show in the dispute. They shouted and stamped till she rode out again to how her thanks; but when it was all over, and the tumblers were in the ring, Pop Hicks said to his f’actolum, Moone: , " We‘ll have to fix the newspaper guys. I’m afraid those men are going to make trouble with us. They looked rich. Who are they?” The agent told him, with a grave face, that Leon- 21rd was the richest man in town, and owner of a pager. Then Pop Hicks bit his lip anxiously, but 531 t “I couldn‘t help it. I’m not going to have my Sally insulted by those mashers. It can’t hurt us much. We go out to-night.” At that moment the show closed and the audience begun to disperse. Pup was changing his clown’s dress for the cos. fume of ordinary life, and the thunder of feet on the planks was incessant, when little Tom Fowler, who had been outside in his street dress, ran in crvmg: 'f ‘-.'\'l.cre‘s Pop? Where is he?” Pap called out: “ Here, Tommy; what is it?” Tom came close to him, to say in a low tone: ‘~ Those dudes are outside \vithagang. They’re going to make. a raid. The money wagon's safe . V - but we‘re going to catch it.” ' 1",». ' Po ) said nothing till he. had finished his dressing. . ' By t at tune the noise of the departing audience ,llil'l ceased, but a buzzing told that the crowd re-- mained before the tent. old Pu; Hicks picked up a club and went outside, to ho greeted by a volley of brickbats and the rush of a gang of men in anger. At that moment some one in the rear of the circus men yelled: "HEY, RUBE! ! l ” I: was the showman’s battle-cry which means v ~ .‘2 ,rL (To be continued.) TWO FLIRTS. BY AL. W. CROWELL. THE HEROIN E. Miss Edith Van Witt Was a terrible flirt—— Made mashes by dozens, and treated as dirt The hearts of the. men She had conquered, and then Thrown aside as she would discard aglove which had proven on trial to be ill-fitting and not worthy of I Being tried on again. She had lovers :1 score- That, at least, may be more! I‘ve been told, (overdrawn, I think.) thirty-and-four! None but did si h for her— None but woulr lie for her— And many a giddy cavalier, driven distracted b her beauty and lack of afipreciation of himse , has thrown him dramatica y upon his (-ancaloz'des', and begged as a priceless favor That he might die for her! THE HERO. Mr. Arthur Van Stan Was as handsome a. man As e’er buttoned a glove or took charge of a fan. He, too was a masher, A lady—heart crusher, And vowed the aforementioned Edith should fall fatally in love with him, his heart remaining free! For had she not a reputation equal to his in that line? And had she not boasted of it to a friend ?— and was i'. not a religious duty to bring her down A peg or two—dash her? Then this “ flyest ” of girls Rearranged all her cur 5 And displlayed a small mouth full of glittering pear 5; She tried every wile, And after awhile, Their intimac being the common talk of the neigh- borhood, fe t herself conscientious] justified in replying to a friend’s “ You have ooked your sucker, Edith?” “ I simper to smile!” THE PLOT. So the plot was begun, And each newer sun Saw the finish of one act, a new act begun; Till Cupid one day Made a. jest of their play opening their eyes to t e fact that they By suddenly loved eac other madly, each discovering that in trying to win the other's affections 81%;, i» had lost his her L heart. Arthur sinks gracefully upon one pa- tella and exclaims: “ Will you have me, dear, say !" THE DRAMATIC CLIMAX. And Edith Van Wirt. This accomplished young flirt. Replies: “ Will I have you? Why shouldn’t I? CERT!” The Pink f the Pacific; The Adventuregnbf‘ a. StowaWay. . BY OLIVER OPTIC. CHAPTER XIII. AN APPALLING SITUATION. . WHEN Pink had time to look the brig over, he found that she was much larger than he had sup- posed, being of not less than three hundred tons )urden. Certainly she was the handsomest vessel he had ever seen, and everything about her was as elegant as money and good taste could make it. A few days before she had been caught in a vio- lent squall. The captain had been on the lee rail, which he had mounted for a moment to take a look at the weather, when the spanker boom broke loose at the first gust' and in dodging to avoid it, he had fallen overboan . The mate made 8. vi orous effort to save him, and would have succeede if the full force of the tempest had held off for a. moment lon- ger. As it was both the captain and the mate were swept away by the boiling waters. They disappear- ed under a fierce wave, and were seen no more. Amos Chinks, the second mate, was a. good sea- man, and his skill and promptness in the emergency had saved the beautifu brig from destruction. But he was no navigator; and since the disaster, the ves- sel had been feeling her way very cautiously through Lombok Strait; and had hailed several ships without obtaining the person she needed ' “But are there pirates in these seas?” asked Mr. Dunwbod, when he had related to the new captain the misfortunes of the vessel. “ I find there are lenty of them, sir,” replied Cap- was as helpful as ssible, but there was little he could do in a vesse so fully manned as the Belle. He walked about the deck, carrying the orders of the captain; but he kept at a. respectful distance from the members of the owner’s famil . After the drill was over. Mr. Dunwood took the new captain below to show him his state-room. The entire after cabin was cecupied by the members of the family; but forward of this was another cabin corresponding. to the ward-room of a man-of-war, for the use of the officers. It contained s1x_ state- rooms: but as there were only four officers, includ- ing the steward, Pink was assigned to one of the rooms. Another was given to Sanders Pink felt as though he had tumbled into a. bed of roses, so luxu- rious was his apartment. . The wind continued to subside till there wns hard- ly enough to give the brig steernge-way. Pmk had wander d all over the vessel, except the after cabin, a. dozen times. till he was as familiar with every part of her as he had been with the American Continent. He was really wishing for something to do, for he had lately seen so much excitement that be rather dreaded a quiet time. He had dined With the offi- cers in the ward~room, as the former captain had called it, and he thought the fare fit for a kmg. At last his legs ached from the. excrcise he liadlaken, and he seated himst-If on a gun-carriage in the waist. Tom Dunwood and his sister were sitting on. the rail on the weather side of the ( uarter-deck. Wlnny had chosen this place so that s e could feel all the air that was stirring, for the weather was very warm after the breeze subsided. She had been so long on shipboard that she had become rather careless Ill taking care of herself. Presently she stretched her- self out at full length on the rail, just as if she wanted to see in how dangerous :1 position she could put herself without falling overboard. The wind had hauled to the westward as it became lighter; and what there was of it came in_ gentle puffs. One of these little flaws heeled the bug over. as alight puff will when a vessel is making hardly any headway. As the rail inclined inboard, the mo- tion did not alarm the little maiden. But the next moment, the sails flapped as the flaw died out, and the brig rolled to windward on the long swell. Suddenly there was a shrill scream and a splash in the water. Miss Winny had rolled into the sea! Tom yelled: but he did not seem to have the pluck to do anything else. Pink heard the scream. He had seen Winny on the rail an instant before, and she was not there now. He understood what had happened. In another second he was overboard delaying only long enough to kick off his shoes, and leap out of his coat. “ Sharks! Sharks!” yelled Tom Dunwood, who . had ventured to look over the rail after he saw Pink go over. It was a most appalling cry; and all on deck rushed to the uarter. “ Man overboard! shouted the man at the wheel, as he cut away the life-buoy and cast it into the water. “Mlan overboard!” rung through all parts of the vesse . Captain Bodfleld rushed u from the ward-room, and when he saw Pink oun ing and splashing the , water with his feet an hands as he swam‘ toward the struggling maiden, he understood the situation. “ Clear away both quarter boats! Pipe away the crews!” shouted the captain, in the most energetic tones. “ A dozen boarding-pikes!” The drill of the seamen was perfect, and in a few seconds the two boats were in the water, with the oarsmen in them. By this time the pikes were at hand. and they were tossed to the six men in each boat. Captain Bodfleld had 1e. )ed into the port uarter boat as she descended. '1 le men “ up oars ” t e instant the boat was in the water. t f‘Shove off! Let fall! Give way!” said the cap— am. The oars dropped into the water, and the boats darted off on t leir errand of mercy. At this mo— ment came a shrill scream from the quarter-deck of the brig. Mrs. Dunwood had just come on deck, to discover the peril of her darlin (laughter. The fa- ther uttered a. heavy roan o despair when Tom said the water was ful of sharks; and Mrs. Dun- wood sunk upon the deck in a swoon. The starboard quarter boat was in charge of Sanders, and closely followed the other. CHAPTER XIV. A BATTLE WITH THE SHARKS. IN some manner the clothing of Miss Winny seemed to sustain her in the water, and Pink found no difficulty in keepin her up with one hand, while with the other and b0 h feet he continued to make the water boil around him by his vigorous exertions. Several large sharks were circling about the spot, ready to crunch a. victim in their terrible. jaws; but they watched fora better 0 portunity than had yet been presented, and seem 0 think there was (lan- ger in the furious splashing of the heroic youth. As Pink had told the captain on another occasion, he was not afraid of sharks; and it is well known that some of the South Sea islanders sport in the waves when the water is full of them. On board the whale-sh! and at the islands he had become famil- iar with t e monsters; and “ familiarity breeds con- tain Bodfield: but lie did not consider it necessary to add that he had been one of them himself onl the day before. In fact, he did not regard himse f as ever having been a. pirate. He had fallen into their hands and save his life as best he could; but piracy. “ I am very sorry for that, for I desired to cruise in these waters,” continued Mr. Dunwood. “ It seems to me to be one of the most delightful regions of the earth.” “ You are quite right, sir; these islands are full of interest.” “ I am sorry we can’t explore them.” “ You can explore them if 'ou desire to do so." “ When the region is full 0 pirates?” .' “But they are Malay pirates; and with a vessel so wlgll armed and manned as the Belle of the Bay, Eve1 t(fan laugh at them,” added Captain Bodfield, 15:1 y. “ ou forget that my wife and children are on board.” “We might have one or two brushes with the miscreants. and we. might not see any of them in the next six months. They would not meddle with this brig if they saw the muzzles of her guns at the port-holes." " My wife is very timid.” “If the )irafcs attacked us, of course we should have to efend the brig; and tallmlaclies would hear the noise of the guns. With your crew of thiit-ty men you could whip all the pirates in these wa ers. “ You speak very lightly of them.” “ They are terrible foes when they attack an un- armed vessel; and I s eak lightly because the brig is more than a match 'or them.” "I will talk with my family about the matter. But can’t we go where there are no Malays ?" “Certainly we can; but we are in the region of the pirates now. Where do you wish to cruise, Mr. Dunwood?" “We came around Ca e Good Hope; I intended to go to the Philippine slands, and then across the Pacific, viSlting the most interesting islands on the. passage. and in the end completing t e voyage round the world.” “.I was in a whale-ship for two years, and I know the islands very well The bov wllh me was in the same ship for some months. I used to call him the ‘ Pink of the Pztcific;’ and he will be quite at home among the islands. The wind is fair to take us through the Straits of Macassar; but I ought to say, that, unless you return by the way you came, you cannot get out of the region of the pirates with« out sailing three or four hundred miles. If you go to the southward, you will still have to make half that distance to be sure you are out of their reach.” “ My captain never said a word to me about pi- rates,” added the owner of the yacht. “There have been none till recently; and when the United States or England sends a man-of—war to clear them out, nothing more of them will be heard for years to come.” Mr. Dunwood talked the matter over with his famll '. They did not want to return by the way they lad come; and the, assurance of the new cap- tain that the Malays could not capture the brig, in- duced them to consent to run through the Strait of Macassar. The course of the yacht was changed to northeast. The oroas of the pirates were still in sight; but they had enough to do to repair damages beffii'i‘ they attemptet to return to the place from whence they came. By noon, neither the American Conti- next; no:- ‘z'ne L‘I‘OIXJ could be seen. The 1amin crunc. on not“. as soar. as :t was certain that no stray shot from the proas “'OUIL;_ sit the brig. WinnyDunwood was a very prett ' girl of fourteen; at least, Pink thought so, thong he had not been in society enough to be a good judge. He regarded her as an angel and we are not disposed to dispute his estimate of no." Tom Dunwood was sixteen. He was the son of a rich man; and this fact had done much toward spoiling hnn. Pink did not like him from the first moment he saw him. After dinner the breeze was lighter, and the brig made hardly four knots an hour. Captain Bodflcld was busy getting acquainted with the vessel and her crew. IIe appointed Ben Sanders, whose conduct he hadnotic during the action with the Malays, second mate of the vessel; and the selection was heartily cheered by the rest of the crew. The cap- tain visrted everylfiart of the vessel, then mustered the hands, and d ' ed them in the various maneu- vers of working ship. He piped away the boats’ crews separapely, heaved to the brig, and sent them on a short pu I. All this was done to satisfy the new commander that the vessel and all hands were in condition for an emergency. He was assured that kpuiuess every time. The fight had begun in ear- J his predecessor ad done his work faithfully. Pink he had abandoned t em at the first practicable 1 moment; and he had been engaged in no not of . temp .” He could swim like a duck; indeed, he was remarkably expert in the water, and rformed many of 1118 antics as well in the brine as in the rig ging of the ship, or on the sawdust of the circus- rmg. ‘ “ Pull strong, my men 2” said Captain Bodfleld. “ But mind our stroke.” The brig ad been going through the water so slowly when the accident took place that Miss Winny , was not more than a cable’s length astern. when the boats were lowered‘ and Pink had jumped Overboard . before the vessel had made her length. Hardly 3. ~ minute had yet elapsed, and the boy in the water was still fresh and capable of a. much greater effort than he had yet made. “Go to leeward, Sanders!” called the captain to the second mate, in the other boat. At‘the same time he steered his own boat to the I windward of those in the water. He next directed the two bow oarsmen in each boat to unship their oars and take the pikes. Captain Bodfield had been among sharks so much on the whaling-grounds that he knew there was little danger to Winn y or her de- , liverer as long as the water was kept in commotion, ,‘ for these sea—scavengers are but cunning cowards. i The greatest danger would be in hauling them into ‘ the boat, for then the splashing must cease for the moment on the part of Pink. But the captain had provided for this emergency The two boats came up on each side of the boy and his charge, and Bodfleld directed two more of l the men in‘each boat to take the pikes. Pink did not was: for an instant to beat the water. as he had done from the time he heard the word “ sharks.” As the boats approached the spot. the bowmen began to punch at the sharks. and succeeded in driving them out of the space between the two parties. “Hold on a. minute or two more, Pinky, and we will have you both in the boat,” said the captain, in encouraging tones. “ I can hold on all day," replied the boy. though he panted as though he had had enough of it. At this moment the bow of the captain’s boat came up to Pink, and the order was given to “ stern all.” in whaleman’s arlance. One of the men stosd ready to lift Winny Into the boat, when a large man- eater approached the maiden. and seemed deter- mined not to be robbed of his prey. The rascal be- gan to turn upon his side preparatory to the fatal onslaught with his horrid jaws, when the four men in the bows punched him with the ikes till the water was red With his blood. The cappaiu had gone. into the bow of his own boat, calling upon all the rest of the hands to use the ikes, and lifted Winny from the arm of Pink. T 10 big shark had been driven Off by tho vigor of the charge upon him; and though half a dozen more were watching their chance. to make a snap at Pink, he was as lively as any fish in the crowd, and did not hold still long enough for one of them to fasten upon him. He gras ed the stem of the boat and with the aid of one of t lc. bow- men, he sprung nto the fore-sheets. While he was doing so, the men continued to punch the sharks; and if none of them were killed, many went out of the fight badly wounded. “ Now give three of your lustiest cheers. my men! It will relieve the anxiety of those on board of the brig!” cried Captain Bodfield, as be seated himself in the stern-sheets, with Miss Winny in his arms. Ll one ! H The cheers were given with the utmost heurtiness. and they carried relief to v.0 paralyzed hearts of the stricken parents. The on... feet up in man-of—war style, were let fall, and the men gave way with all their might. Winny Dunwood was unable to s ak before the boat reached the brig. She was comp etel exhausted by the terrible scene through whicn she liad passed, and by her useless struggles in the water; She lay In the arms of the. captain, panting as though her frail life was ebbing out. As the boatupproachcd the brig, Mr. Chinks rigged the ladies’ gangwav, as the mate called the accommodation stc‘ s, and ‘lsud- field bore his charge to the uarter-dec ‘. Florissn, the ladies’ maid, had brough the poor mohcr out of her swoon, and she sprung to her feet as a con as she was told that Winn was on board. “She is excited but s e is not harmed, lnm‘aur ’ said the captain sootliingly, as he bore the n“ -..-n into the cabin. “ I am not hurt a bit, mother." added W speaking for the first time. but still panting. “ My poor child!" groaned Mrs. Dunwood, as she followed the captain into the cabin. ‘ ' “Don‘t be alarmed. madam; she will be all right in a few minutes.” continued the captain, as he laid his burden on one of the divans. “ Wasn’t she bitten by those terrible sharks ?” “ Not at all: she is not harmed; only frightened. Get sit-idle dry clothes upon her, and she will be all tiny, ht: r1fi‘he poor mother was too agitated todo much I) r- Self, but Florissa seemed equal to the occasion. She conve 'ed the sufferer into her state-room. and pro- ceede to do what the circumstances re lured. _ H “Are you sure she is quite unharme . captain? asked Mr. Dunwood, who had followed the others into the cabin. “No harm could have come to .her; certainly she is not drowned, and no shark touched her.” protest- ed the captain. "She lrembles and pants with ter- ror, but she will be as well as ever she was in a few minutes.” “It seems too 00d to be true; for I gave her up for lost,” added iIr. Dunwood with a. shudder. “ And she would have been lost if it hadn’t been for Pink," added Captain Bodfleld. “ Pink? “To is he?” asked the ownerof the. beau- tiful brig. who up ieared not to have notlced the boy, or at least, be had not learned his name. . “ ‘ The Pink of the Pacific,’ as I used to call him on poard the whale-ship," replied the captain With a an h. 4 “gYou mean the boy that came with you from that shi 1'” ‘PYes, sir; that’s Pink.” . “ l was not aware that he had anything to do with saving my daughter,” continued the owner, looking curiously at the captain. “You Were not ! Why. the lad jum ed overboard after Miss Winny almost as soon as s le went over herself. He swam to her, and b the commotion he made in the water kept off the s arks. Ilz-e held her up till the boats reached the spot, nnd_f'oucht the fish with one hand and two feet all the tune." “I was in the cabin when the accident happened, and I dared not look where she was, lest I should see her caught by a shark.” Mr. Dunwood was pale and trembling with emo- tion as he realized the awful fate l’rom_ which his darling child had been saved. P arhaps tlus incident, followmg so soon the encounter with the Malays. raised some doubts in his mind in regard to the pleasure of yachting in the Indian Seas. “I need not say how grateful I am to you for the rompt and efficient service you have rendered, Captain Bodfleld,” said the owner, with much feel- mg. “ Bless you, sir! I did nothing! Nobody (lid any- thing but Pink. All that the rest of us did would have amounted to nothing without that boy.” pr0< tested the captain. “ I confess that I should not have dared to jump overboard in the midst of a School of sharks; and I doubt if there is a man on board who would have been any more courageous.” "Y,ou astonish me. Are sharks so very danger- ous?’ “Dangerous? I have seen one bite a. man in two in the twinkling of an eye!” repli:d Captain Bodv field. amazed at the simplicity of his wealthy ems ployer. “ The boy wanted to swim a uarler of a mile the other day when the sea was fu I of sharks, declaring that he was not afraid of them; and he would have done it if I had let him.” Mr. Dunwood wanted to know more about the waif; and the captain told him all that was known of the ho "s history. In this connection he ventured to tell something more of his own antecedents. and frankly admitted that he had been with the pirates only the (13. before. The owner did not seem to think any t e less of him, for he had been an invol- untary pirate, if a pirate at all. “ Now, where is the boy? I have seen him about the deck, and he came into the cabin with messages from you; but I havellardlyr noticed him. I should like to thank him for what 1e has done; and I shall do something better for him in due time.” “I don’t know where he is just now; butI sent him below to dry his clothes for he hasn’t a. rag be- sides what he has on his bac ’,” replied the captain. “ I will send for him.” “ No clothes? Stop a moment, and I will get some of Thomas’s for him.” . Captain Bodfield was willing that his iotégé should have something better than the razeec garments he had worn; and presently the owner appeared with a great bundle of his son’s clothes. The ca Jt-ain wont down into the ward-room with them, an he found that Pink had turned in, having sent his clothes to the galley to be dried. Tom Dunwood was not much larger than Pink; and the garments were a much better fit than those he had worn before. \Vith the assistance of the captain, he was soon clothed, though he would not of himself have known the. use of some of the “ fogs," as he called them. “ Young man, you have saved the life of my daughter." said Mr. Dunwood, taking Pink‘s hand when he was resented to him by the cuptnin. “ I thank you wit 1 all my heart; and in due. tune I shnll prov? my gratitude ill some more substantial man- ner. " Oh. it’s all right, sir,” replied Pink, who did not understand the. lust remark of the owner. The waif was then taken to the cabin. CHAPTER XV. mu SPOILED SON. PINK had been into the cabin before. but it was when the family were too busy thinking of their own safet to bestow any attention upon him as an individua . Now all eyes were fixed upon him, and Mr. Dunwood said some very handsome things about him which made him blush like a school-girl. The mother of Miss Winny took him by the hand, and thanked him with all her heart. While she was doing so, the young lady herself came out of her state-room, followed by Florissa. “ 0h, Pink!” she exclaimed, rushing toward him, and takin him b both hands. “ I should have. been eaten up y the s iarks if you'had not kept them off 2 Oh, how much I owe you l” “ We’ll call it square. if you please, miss,” replied Pink, very much embarrassed to have every One in the cabin looking at him. ‘- We shall never, never call it square 1” protested the- girl, with all the earnestness of her nature. “ You have. saved my life, and I can never pay you for it if I should live to be a thousand years old l” “ Well, I don’t want to be paid for it: and so you don’t owe me unytllin . I hate sharks; andI was bound they shouldn’t lave such a nice bit to eat as you are.” “ Then it was to cheat the sharks out of their dinner, and not to save lne, that you jumped over- board?” \ demanded “’inny. merrily, though she shudder-ed while sv'e laughed at the idea of making a. dinner for the voracious fish. “ I didn‘t mean those sharks should eat you, any— way,” replied Pink, wlfo had not learned the arts of gallantry . “ I know you would not have jumped overboard to keep the sharks from getting a piece of meat that had dropped into the wait er, and thus cheat them out of their dinner,” added \Vinuy. “ I’ll bet I wouldn't!" “ Then it was to save me that you risked your own life, wasn’t it, Pink?" asked the maiden, feeling that she had the best of the argument. “I went over after you, I suppose; but I didn‘t think there was any great risk about it. I used to see the Indians among the islands diving in arong the sharks; and I thought I could do it as well as they. haven‘t been afraid of them . ince then.” ‘* I think you are making a great row about noth- ing,” interposed Tom Dunwood, who seemed to be greatly disgusted wilhall that was said. “ It was no great thing to jump overboard when the sea. was as quiet as it is 10-day.” “ You would not have. dared to do it, Thomasl‘ added Mrs. Dunwood, rather warmlv. “ Yes, _I should, too. I was just going over when I saw thls little monkey go over the ruil; but it was no use for two of us to wot our clothes for one girl; and so I did nothing." said Tom, with easy assur- ance. “ You will make this young cub think he has done a big thing. if‘ you talk to him in this way.” " I think he has done a, big thing!" cxcluilncd \Viuny, with spirit. “Nonsense, Winn!" " I think he has done a very brave and nob]!- (leed, my son; and if you luul done it, I should have been very proud of you. I am sorry to hear you disparage the not,” interposed this owner. - "I suppose you mean to make a romance out of the affair, and the lilllo monkey will have to marry the girl to make it conu- out rig If,“ sncercd Tom “I don't think of getting married at present Mr Baboon; and when I do I shall not ask you about it!“ cried Pink, angered almost to tears bv the harsh and sarcastic remarks of Tom Dunwood us he rushed upon deck. ’ " Do you hear that?" flushed with rage at lhc " Yap havf. taught him to “ our auguage wus uito im re )er, ln ' . o “ said Mr. l)umvood, wry nilldly; fol? t 10 tl‘llt‘l inliht gihiuiiknowledgcd that he was afraid of the spoiled ( . “Improper!”sneercd the son; and he had a tal- cut for snecrlng. “ Do you think I can measure. off my words to a puppy like. that? He. has no business :1: boaIrdlof t.ll(i.ll)ll’lg;tli0 one invited him to take [ms- .‘2 ge ll lcr. e m; - ~ ~ .. come ‘0 land.” 1:: 1 out of her as soon as “( th'éllle IS here with my consent," replied his fu- "I. hate fhclittle )ri ' and iflcan‘t e ' ' I woLn‘t st-lly in thebriginysclf.” g t m1 0f hm“ “ ‘1)llSlt er, my son; he. has 'ust saved 0 ' x your sister,” reasoned Mr. Duanood, chdt‘ltlllllV] lel‘l the threat of his son. ' ‘ new are twenty sailors in t , v . . . . would have saved \Vinny, if he llalllllglt; H 5M 1 I should have gone over after her if he hadn‘t step- pcd into my way. The rascal has been a nuisance- to me smce he came on‘ board. Ile and I can‘t sail algltngame \csscl. Did _\ ou hear lnm call me a “ Yes; and I heard you call him a little monk - ' " replied Mr. Dunwood with - ' ' .‘ ‘3 befo‘gphexhébited. , mole spirit than hc. had " ' at i I did? If you call one of I - fool, w1ll vou let him give you the Silllletllllzilllltl‘ggdtslof mangetgabtggh‘: But tililcli‘ the little villain to cull . . 0X0 [In x r the companionwav. om, as hi. rushed up demanded Tom, his face smurf. words of lheboy. be. impudent already." that mull um surc The father of the unreasonable young man drop~ ed into a divan, and looked very sad and uneasy. e. was a ve rich man; but his son was his tyrant, and he won d have given half of his abundant wealth to make Tom a filial obedient and well-be- haved b0 '. The youth was the one trial of his He- at least a l other trials seemed as nothing compared wilhthls one. Doubtless it was his own fault that llehad spoiled his child! but the burden was none the less heavy to bear—perhaps heavier for this rea- son. Winny was only a half-sister of Tom. Thou b there was little more than two years’ difference n their ages they had not the some mother. 'l‘om’s mother had died soon after he was born' and a year later, his father had married again to the lad who was now on board of the Belle of the Buy Wit 1 lnm. She was a woman of character and resolution; and if she had had her wa ', robably the Willth son would have been cure of‘ his bad temper and his vicious inclinations. But she was not the larl’s own mother; and uncles and aunts cried out against the proverbial cruelty of stc i-mothcrs. Even the. lla- ther believed the new wi e would abuse the child, and she was not permitted to exercise any authority ovor him. Both she and \Vinny, her own daughter, were compelch to be his leths in order to keep peace in the. family. It seemed very strange to all that Tom should he- gln to manifest his hulred to Pin at the Very mo- ment the. waif had donosuch a heroic deed. It IS true he had before expressed his dislike to the boy; but he had CllOSPll the most inopportune moment to vent his spite. Winn actually cried when he had gone; and she. detcrm nod to see Pink as soon as she could and tell him Tom was a “ real ueg boy; and she was so sorry he had said anything so very un- kind aud ungenerous.” None of the family followed Tom on deck to pro- tect the waif from his spite. Possibly they felt that they should be owcrless as mediators; but the hoped Pink won (I be able to weather the assau t upon him. Pink was not much concerned at what the spoiled son had said to him. though it made him very an ry for the moment, but rather because the offenswe words were spOkcn in the presence of Miss Winny than because they were very severe in themselves. He had been too often buffeted, kicked and reviled to be utterly cast down by anything of the kind. He realized that it would make the captain feel bad to have any trouble oh board; and he prom tly (le- cided not to say a word to him about what lad oc- curred in the cabin. He would give Tom Dunwood a wide berth in the future. He seated himself on a gun-carriage in the waist, and began to think how prettin Miss Winny had spoken to him about what he had done for her. He was so leased with her conduct that he rcall wished s e would fall overboard again. If she dir , he made up his mind that he would not wait for Tom to go in after her. While he was thinking about it, his assailant in the cabin came on deck, having lashed himself into a fury over the insult of being called a baboon. He saw Pink, and rushed toward him as though he intended to annihilate him on the spot. Pink had recovered his self-possession now that he was no longer in the presence of the maiden. But he was no more afraid of the willful so than he was of the sharks. He saw that Tom meant mis- chief, and he rose from his seat in order to be. in readiness for the assault. “ What do you mean, you young villain? How dared you call me a baboon in the presence of my father?” gasped Tom, his rage rising to the boiling mint. 1 “ I meant about what you did when 'ou called me a little monkey, 1 sup )osc,” replied ’ink, with his )eculiar chuckle, whic i did not at all soften the orce of his remark. “ You are a little monkey!" roared Tom. “ Then, as you are a little bigger than I am. you are a baboon!" relorled Pink. will! quite as much vim as the owner’s son had displayed, though he was good—natured about it. “How dare. you insult me (lommulml Tom, rutllcr taken aback by the energy wilh which his assault was repelled. “ I told you n lillle. while ago that I wasn‘t afraid of sharks: and you don‘t ex wet to see me slulkc be— fore it small-sized baboon, Ii ‘0. you, do you?" “I \von‘l slum] such insults!" “ Nor I either.“ “I’ll thrush you wilhlnun lncll of your life !" “ All right; will you bl-gm now?“ “ You culled llll‘ ll baboon l” “ And you (‘ullwl nm a lllonkvy." “ What odds does it make what I cullctl you?" “ It makes just us much difference “but you call me as it does what I call you.“ “ What are you? “'hut business have you on board of this brig? Do you know that my father owns her? Don‘t you know that there. is a difference between an owner and a sailor?“ “ Your father don't own me; or if he does, you don‘t. If your father (10! ‘t wnnt me in thelirlg I will quit her as soon as l g ‘t a chance,“ replied Pink, who was hit in a tender place. “But you have insulted me; and I am going to take it out of your-hide.” Tom drew back, and lowering his head, struck at Pink' but the latter suddenly turned a summerset over his assailant’s head. (To be cantinlied—commenced in No. 58.) 9" Faro in Montana. BY E. P. M. THE Montana system of faro for revenue only ls interestin '. At Helena, at Butte City. at Livmg~ ston. at ll issoula, there are only 0 ien doorways bc- twccn the sidewalk and the gain ling~lubles. The favorite games are faro and stud-horse woker. There are a, few roulette tables. Keno. whit-ll only a few years ago held the first place in the Western gamblcr’s esteem, has almost entirely passed out of sight. Faro always holds its own. but the. fashion- able game of the hour, particularly with fresh and unhardcncd sinners. is stud-horse poker. This variety of poker is said to be seductive to youth and inexperience. Its peculiarities are that the bunk always holds the deal, that the dealer turns all but the first of the five cards dealt to each player before the draw. face upward on the. table, so that cvcrybmly can see them, and lllllt the pro- prietor derives a (certain and large crcen’rage from the game, even when it is square y played; while: his facilities for crooked administration are thought to be superior to those afforded by any other gam- bling game known to civilization. Almost every saloon and billiard-room of estab- l‘shed standing has ils one, two, three, or four fare and stud»horse poker-tables handy to the street entrance. During the day dealers are. ready to ac- commodate the. casual guest who may desire to play. The stress of business, however, is betwocn seven o’clock in the evening and two or three in the morn— ing. Then the saloon is throngcd with men from the mines, cowboys from the plains, lemlerl’cct from the East, and citizons generally. The solid resident drops in and coppers the neo, or takes a, few hands at stud poker with us assured (1 sense of decorum as fortifles the Eusterner in his evening invasion of the villngeinn fora game, of billiards or of dominoes. (‘rowds of men throng,r around the tables and hung eagerly over the green lmize. There is usually good order. cxcc ll when some (ll‘nnkon fellow mnch a disturbance. "here are a good many pistols in the room, but few of them are Visible. A revolversomc- film-s lies on the table close fo the dealer‘s right hand, and a square of plate glass rests on to l of tho lllll'S of silver dollars and (louble-cuulc golt pieces that advertise the resources of the bank. In one town I visited (1 number of these establish- lncnfs with the sheriff, who nccompanicd mo Hither in the capacity of guide than of protector. ’J‘he af- l'ublo- sheriff know everybody, accosted evo-ryboll by his first name, had a pleasant word for the ban ~ nulhorilies. u jolm for the )rosperous player, and a bit. of judicious advice, for t to hcsilnlln ' novice. He seemed to be regarded by all the gullible-rs with u!- f‘vctionato admiration and esteem, rather than with suspicion or fear. On his part, my friend, the sheriff, dcporlcd himself like u gooll-nufurcd School- muslcr who lllllwll'lsl whilo supervising the innocth recreations of his httlo charges. City, a. flourishing mining-cmnp when) moncv is plcnly. The great mins distribute large sums. The monthly my-roll of the Alice is about $40,000, the (‘c'ilusu‘s Ill,lll)ll. while the Anacontla’shas been 375,- 00011 llmlllll. Much of this money finds Its wny to the farm and stud—poker tables, and part of it goes ulti- mately info the trcusury of Silver llow county. In all the gmnbling-places in Butte two placards were cmlspicurms: One was this: “ POSI’I‘IYELY “No ('lurs Issuth EXCEPT F01; CASH!” The while counlcr. the lowest denomination 1‘; generally Wort h l \vonty-llve cenls. At one taro—table the seine-(lulu of prices was as follows: “ Whites . . . . . . . . . . . . . .l°‘il‘ly mulls. tells . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .(lllc (lollul‘. lllm-s . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . .Two dollars and a. half. fellows . . . . . . _ . . . . . . . . . .Fivo dollars." Here in another placard seen cvcrywllcr‘: “ NOTICE! “Boys Under Ag will not be allowed to Gamble in or Frequent this ’lacc." By a law enacted about two ea. ’- W ‘ the penalty fog-allowing minors to gamb e or water. he 9mm— bllng is a fine of" from $10 to 3100, or lm .‘lsoxnlienc from one to thirty days. The law mus be pretty well enforced. I saw no boys at the tables. ' Thewhole business of gambling in Montana is not only licensed and regulated by law, but it Is made. to contribute handsomely to the revenue of the Ten- ritory The proprietors of every saloon where bet. The. play was nowhere higher than In Butte \‘ -. :Lze.,=o A.-- A- -* vi ‘ J); A-x .' T U ‘ ‘- A .. s‘} at- ' ' The Territory owes not a dollar. ' pl‘thldQ'l for. ‘ an assessed valuation of six or seven million dollars. _: c) _A_D 0 6~—— ——7 —.— . ’ Q 7‘ pt I r r C') il‘,‘,l.I|‘W|hIH|I .‘il.iil‘l‘t[ ting games are played are taxed by the county ac- cording to the suhjoined tariil’: Billy nodded to the two captains as much as to say, For a general license, every month 0 “Didn’tI tell 'ou so?" For each roulette table. ’lt‘l' month . . . . . . . . . . . . .. 150 “Stl‘angervi 1.3”“ wrong in mypmr‘mOSiS, You're Fm. Hm], Sm.i.p0k,.,. whip. Per month” _ .H U 100 the cuss that climbed these l:yer pards of mine a. For each fun, “11,10. p9,. “mum _ _ I . _ . ~ _ _ ' ' _ _ _ _ 25 short time ago in a way they dispised,” Red Jack . the High lIorse replied. The. Chinese game of tan, per month . . 20 Observed- Houses of ill—fame where beer is sold, per q'uzi'rl ter . . V _ , , I _ replied, complacently. “ The fact The proprietor of a saloon running three stud- horse poker tables. three fat") banks, and a roulette table would therefore have to pay into the county tr ‘asury every month $4135 for his several licenses, 01' 230.780 a year. The law licensing and taking the gambling-boasts a clearing, and you need to be battered so as to make you behave yourselves.” “There may be two opinions in regard to that," Texas Charley rejoined. . I _ ‘ I . night that your pa (ls were altogethertoo fresh and is so curious a piece ol legislation that I give it in so I jest Weth in and salted them, and I reckon thar full. It was approved last March: I' ain‘t any of them hog enough to say I didn‘t do the “Be it enacted by the Legislative Assembly of the. 3‘”), “1) 1"?th _ Territory 0f Mmmum: exas (.harley had been surveying the Californian “That any person orpersons, or association of per- i dos"1-" "m1 had 0""10 t‘? “10 COUCIUSIOII that he sons, who shall keep any house or saloon, or room ' Olliprllt‘ ‘0 h" a "limit f0“ lllm- _ or t'lubrooms where any banking—game or other l ball" Strange” 1‘“ ‘fxvmmmd.’ “ m“, and my game of chance is dealt or played t'ornioney, or ai‘y- ' P5111“ "5291', 11"“ ill“ (“Plains Of this outfit and “'0 thing re n'eseiiting money. or having it money value, “I” that'sl'“! “1th the way you have handled Olll' is used, )et. ventured. or hazarded iii any city, town, “am:- or village whose population is greater than 500 per- s( ms, shall, before starting such business, pay to the ble High Horse, “or at least they were when they County Treasurer a license of $10 per month and in dusted out of the saloon; tliar wusn’t a man of ’ern mmmun thew“, 3",.“ mm," m. ,wrsons $1,“ 1 pa). a that intimated that lie wii’sn’t satisfied. They license for each table (which table. shall not exceed (’1‘,‘f’*“‘d out "111d. 3: lflllll).s" ‘. . eight. feet in length by four feet in width) on which 01” thm " a“ tht' one“ Red JaCk- ' I don't doubt you got away with the hull outfit, but me and niylpard liyer are reckoning that you can’t get away Wi 1 us." “ Now you are shouting! Is it to be fi'r money or fun and how will you have it, fists, iistols or cold steel? I‘m your meat, any way you like.” The prompt acceptance of the challenge rather bothered the cowboy captain, who hadn't exactly the game commonly called fare is dealt: or played $2.") per month; and such person or persons shal pay a license for each table (which shall not: exceed eight feet in length and four and one-half feet in Width) on which the games commonly called per- centage stud-horse poker, or percentage draw-poker, or twenty-one. or high—ball, or shortfaro, is dealt or played, of $100 per month; and such person or cr- sciis shall pay for any room wherein the game ca led keno is layed, dealt, or conducted, a license of $150 a inont i, which shall he exclusive of all other games; and such person or )(‘I‘SOIIS shall pay a license for each table on wide 1 the. game called roulette is played of $150 per month; and f )1' each and every other banking-game not mentioned in this section such person or persons shall pay a license of $150 a mont i. _ “ In any city. town or village. whose population is lesstlian 50f: pcrsonsanzl more. than 200, such person or persons shall pay a license of one-half the amount V. _ . . . . paid in. towns, cities or villages whose population is at 5'0"} h!" I red‘on If Ill-Y,I)ard g”? 1“ ms “York £11“ renter than .500 persons; and in all places whose ’ lhfir .“ 0“ tibe “0 Show fill 5‘ Chap 13"“ lny 912%; gopulation is less than 270 persons, such person or . . Tnat‘ ‘f 0"“ '39,t0ugl,‘_9" than all mt 0”“ the persons shall pay a licrnse of one-fourth the amount H'gh VHMS?‘ ,adm‘t‘ed; That mmlnd'? me Of. “1,6 paid in cities, towns. or villa .res Whose population is boy “‘ 1m 01%” {"9 Dwnfle Of Dal‘ml 1“ the 11011 S I‘cater than 500 peisons. But this sec‘iou shall not; d‘m- He “'95” 1’ ll (“fled hm“ Danl‘II’ hm he was 50 e construed to authorize or permit any game pro- Sln‘m' he “ as “Card thm' “'OUM‘H‘ be ‘3“011311 of muted by i he laws “fun T,.,.,.ir,,,,.,..n .. him to go round. and that was one small hon 1n the The effect of this remarkable legislation upon the COP!” he was mortally aff‘ar‘.‘ “'Ollld left- flnances otVMontiuia. is striki'ig. In Butte Ciy alone i ' But I luv)" .I‘OW to some 1t. I 11 fight you 190th the average number of g.tiiiblot s’ licenses taken out at one“ and 11 (‘1' h“? of you don t get your StI‘m-lac}i full he must be a hog!" is about 300 a quarter. The county offiilvcr Bow is , out of debt. Butie has inst built and paid for a l The (IOWbOY leader” 1m.)de 3t 9301‘ other and the" ‘ ' at. their men, and their followers no:ldcd. while $30,000 seliool~liouse. besides otlitrslessexpensive. , ,. . , . . It is. about ,0 hm“ a 5515M“, U,u,.t_h,,u,,-,.. Mowiy \\ amego hilly put. his tvngue in his cheek as much is plenty in the county treasury. The poor are well as “l-‘Q‘V 'DM” t 121"“ 11 "l .le Straight?" . . *7 . . ~ . , _ u ,9“ I, .,-.,.- f The. countv tax is only six mills, on ’ “ ,b'~””.nf 01”“ 1“ J. J‘Kl‘ .‘hl‘efl' . ‘ ‘ That s the lay—out 1m givmg you." The count v gets‘i‘S lh‘l' cent. and the. Territory '35 per ; h 03.‘ yous“? “.“Ximls to {mt kinea 3” Texas Chm-k5, cent. of llll‘ t'aro and stud-poker revenue collected. fichliimlmlv1".011‘1” “1’,th Sleovos Of his flannel Shirt, Th ‘ territorial tax is only one-tenth of one )er cent. ( ‘Sllfll'llm “I “HIT?” 31‘ armg- . . . L ‘ 1 “ X es. yes. that is what I m arter,” the Californian answered. “ Might- as well be put out of my misery at once. But now, pards, I want a fair shake, you know.” “ Oh, yes. we’re squar’ men every time!” Red ‘ Jack asserted. I “IIain‘t the least doubt of it, so jest order your , outfit to draw off for a couple of hundred yards, so I the stranger. Texas Charley though had reflected upon the mat- ter, and as he was a famous rough-and-tumble fighter, had come to the conclusion that a fisticuff match would be about the right sort of thing, and he s )cedily made known his idea. but suits me to death!” the claimed. “Wa’ul, I s’pose that will agree with me too as well as any other way,” Red Jack said. Californian ex- VOICES. BY EBEN E. REXI’ORD. . W“? . . I kin hev a fair field. No ob'ection to th. ' Whene'er I hear the. org ins mighty veice J s (u; ls When children’s voices echo in the streets I think of angels and of all pure. things, And aspiration in my bosom beats Willi the. mute eloquence of fettered wings. Then, out. of space I hear a voice that. seems An echo wandering since time began, So low. so sweet, that he who listens dreams 01' Rest and IIWIVCIh-Lllt' voice of God to man. Gideon Gotdlace, The High Horse of the Pacific. A Tale of ‘Vcstern Texas. BY ALBERT IV. AIKEN, AUTHOR on “ovEJtLAivn KIT.” “TALBOT or CINNABAR,” “RED RICHARD.” “BAT OF THE BATTERY,” “DEMth DETECTIVE,” “ THE WOLVES OF NEW YORK,” ETC. CHAPTER XXXII. ANOTHER escorts'i'ica. “ STEP up to the captain’s omee and settle, hey?” the lligh Horse rejoined. “ I reckon you hit me wliar I live every time you spit out anything like that. Thar never was sicli a cuss for stepping up to all sorts of captain‘s oilicos and doing all kinds of set~ tlin as a man jest. about my size. Oh. l’in the boss sett er from Si-tt tei'ville, and don’t you forget it! Jest at a pin in your inemm‘y at that p‘int and jab it in or all y )u’re wutli l" The Californian was prepared for the encounter, .for, thanks to the. ample. light afforded by the moon, g, ' fix he had perceived the cowboys at; the very same time Jill“, that they had caught sight ot him, and being gifted with the eyes of a hawk, he. had recognized that the men were the same with whom he had had the “ little difficulty ” in the Great American Eagle saloon, and he had easily conjectured, when he saw them change their course in order to intercept him, that mischief ;was afOol'. The High Horse. was not taken unawares. The :trusty Self-cocking revolvers were out, and as they -wero seven-shooters he felt that he held at least a dozen lives in his hand, while there were only eleven .’in the attacking party. , But the Mexican boy, the guide who was conduct- “ Sing the. Californian, was frightened almost out of _«j-‘. .his wits. :1* , “ Oh, senor!" he cried as lll‘ behold the desperate '5; looking cowboys approach. "we have rtiii into a " ang of cut—throats, and we shall both be inur- " cred!” “Nary time,” the Californian responded; “the ‘hoot’s on the. other leg; we’re the cut-throats, and these chaps are the. victims. If any one. of them ’dares to look crooked at me I’ll wipe out the hull gang at‘ore. you kin say seat 2” . -. 'But. the boy was not at all tranquilized by this assurance, and as the. cowboys came up he slunk 1n lterrorbeliind the Californian. ( The two cowboy captains surveyed the stranger with eager curiosity as they approached. . He was a big fellow certainly. htit yet not thcgiant that. the )air expected to see from the description that had. eon given. 7 When the cowboys got within about fifty feet of .the High Horse, he commanded them to'lialt, at the same time dis ilaying the revolvers which he had ' 'kept concealed by his side. _ “ Whoa. you mule—skinning, cow-punching, Mave- frick-stealiiig sons of Satan!" he cried, bringing the revolvers to bear in menace. ' “Don’t; come too close! I‘m an awful man for fresh air, and hate. a crowd woise tliaiip’isen l” ' ’ The cowboys promptly obeyed the ill-J1] notion, and the two captains naturally clapped their hands upon their wca ions. The Californ'an’s quick eyes saw the motion, and ispccdilv cried check. “Hold on thar!” he exclaimed. “ don’t go to fingering your shooting-irons. don‘t, I beg you; It won’t be healthy for you if on do. I‘m an awful nervous'cuss, and when any ody pulls pistols when 'I am around, it’s apt to make me feel sick at my ,stuinjack; and if you do 1t 1 shall be compelled to ‘ibore a. hole right through the miprudent man. 1 should hate like thunder to do it, too, for I know there’s a lot; of poor liangmcn who are. calculating to ttirn an honest penny by choking the life out of you cusses one of these days.” . By this time the cowboy captains had come to the conclusion that the job for which they had booked themselves was decidedly more difficult than they . had anticipated. The stranger was evidently game to the backbone, skilled, too, in the, use of weapons, and not disposed to Show the white feather. despite the odds which existed. ” But the pair had “enliste'l for the war, and ‘Were not going to let the stranger back them down 'by words alone. . “Say, you. mister man, don’t be. shootan 30,1,” month 011’ quite so freely,” Red Jack replied. I reckon afore. you could cock those rcvrilverslrgf, youru. we would be. able to git a pistlo or two on. . “ , yes, we’re on the shoot, sometimes, you bet!” Texas Charley added. “Now, stranger, that is jest, wlzar you are bark; up the wrong tree,” the High Horse rejonied. “ These hyer beauties are. self-cockers and I reckon that More you could git your tools fit for action I could liavea heap of fun with you.” cowboys as they retreated. sorry for ’em, for they wouldn’t take no stock in our story. had, or else I’m no judge of bug-'uice.” second invitation but came up to the scratch at 01106. your pards. leaving the cowboys to look “ But I won’t be one bit Inside of ten minutes they’ll wish they I The rest coincided with this opinion. Goldlaee shoved his revolvers back in their hol- sters, cautioned the boy to stand b‘lck out of the 5 way so that he couldn’t possibly get hurt, and then remarked to the cowboy leaders: I “Now, gents, the circus is fixed to begin jest as soon as you git a good ready on.” Red Jack and Texas Charley (lid not wait for a l “ You clinch him, Texas. and I'll kick the stuffing out of him 1” Red Jack whispered to his companion as they advanced. This was i-asier said than done, for as the Texan. l with a bull-like rush, endeavored to close with the r , Califori'ii'in, he was met with a straight right-hand ‘ llOWlCd t01‘ lllt‘l't'l'. or which, the eyes laid him over on his back as though he had been stricken by a thunderbolt. taking the burly fellow square between lied Jack rushing to avenge his comrades fate J I i met. with a similar reception. I He. was felled as though some giant oak of the forest had fallen upon him. Both of the. men were knocked senseless. The fight was over. “.s‘ayl' you cow—puncth‘S, come and attend to I reckon they have got all they want from yours tiuly!" cried the Californian. "And you must excuse me, for I‘ve got to be gitting. “ ' ‘rot along. you yaller sarpint !” Away went the boy and the High Horse followed, after their beaten leaders. Both of the men, when they came to their senses, were satisfied and wanted no more of the Cali- fornian. CHAPTER XXXIII. THE REVELATION. Nor the slightest fear that he would be entrapped “Yes, yes, I reckon I’m the man," the High Horse l i _ . ' is you cowbo vs ' squabble that we had Hit a IONIC “‘0 II‘ "B 01100 In a “'11110 when you stri 'e . handled me and my Indian pard so roughly. Iwantegl I eastern dies of your country. dwelt in the mind of Goldlace. He was well-armed. the which he had procured from the generous-minded self-cocking revolvers “ l The cowboys looked at each other, and Wamego . I was a man able to hold my own against any two i ladrones in the. district. btit now I am so weak that .' I could not overcome a five-year-old child. ‘f And this is partly your work. American.” “ Yes, but much more due to your own conduct," “ Why did you seek to at- ! tack me and compass my death?” "Well, in the first place on account of the little in the saloon, when yoti i to square that account; and then. too. I was well paid to attack yeti by a man who desired your death.” “The man who once called himself Aban Vali?" “Sart‘in, tharmebbe, but it was my opinion to- - said the CillifOl‘lliflD. “ Yes, that‘s the boss; he was determined to get you out of the way, for he knew that if you once discovered him it was a question of life and death. “ But I say. who was it that came so tiiie:.'pectcdly to your assistance when we had you eorraled in the Fandango llall?” the dying bandit asked. “ Who was it that put this cursed ball into me that is sa )ping my life away?" “‘v'hat will it i-rotit a man so nearto death as yourself to know?“ asked the Californian, deter- mined not to reveal the secret. for he guessed that “Wa'al. they’re satisfied," broke in.the irl‘epressi— , the brigand might have an idea of leaving behind him a legacy of revenge. “ Oh, well, it would be some little satisfaction, that‘s ail.” “ Turn your thoughts to other matters, for that is a secret that I shall not reveal." “Suit yourself," rctorted the bandit, sulkily. “But: now regarding this communication which you desired to make to me.” “ Concerning the. name of your foe?” “ Yes, that is what I wish.” “ Aban \‘ali ‘3" “ But he is not known by that name now.” “ He would be a fool indeed to travel under it made up his mind which was the best; way to take with some. half a dozen men like yourself, eager to drink his blood," the other replied. " But what does he call himself?" “Wait, let us see if it is the same man. Some twenty years ago he married a girl in one of the dazzling her eyes with the idea that he. was independently wealthy, Owning half a dozen gold mines.“ " Yes, my sister." “I can see the resemblance for I knew her once. “ But the Soon the inask was turn away, though, for the man p’int is which one of us shall have the fust chance i “’88 ‘1 S‘dehng adventurer, a gambler, liVing by his wits. “ But: the woman stuck to him for the sake of the child which had been born, a. bzibygirl, and followed his fortunes until his cruel treatment sent her into the grave about a year a re.” " Yes, yes: and the child?” cried the Californian, rising in agitation. " Look upon this girl.” and the brigand pointel to Catarina; “can you not trace in her face a re- semblance to your dead sister?" The maiden was now upon her feet trembling with emotion. ‘ “ She is the child, and her father is the man that “ Here, Pete. and Ike, get. the along." ordered brisk Mrs Farlie, stirring tip her [We big sons. “Leave the baby with me.” she ad- ded, addressing Jack; “you may have a hunt for her. If she‘s home, you can both come back and spend the night with us." And she forcibly took the child from its father‘s reluctant arms. " Ir‘s blamed dark, and a woman with a tub on her head might: wander off the road. though she had a plenty time to get home before night." “ “'e both wanted to lug it over for her. didn’t we, Ike?” said the youneer ot the two Farlie boys. “Be sure We (ill. but she wouldn‘t let us," replied the elder, for gallantry was not. unknown among these l‘oiit'st border lads. “There ain‘t any lnjuns would hurt her. Idon’t think," he continued ;“ but—" " Wolves!" added the younger, under his breath. " Nonsense! She's safe at heme-she fill/sf he!” insisted Jar-k. who. in t satisfied with his natural swinging gait, had broken into a sort of gallop; and liis companions found it (llllltfllll to keep up with inn. " My God. she is not: here!" he exclaimed, as. reaching his own door, he pushed it open and feund the one room tcnaiitless. " Kate! Katie! are you lidiiig from me?” he called, in agonized tones; but only the dull echo of his own voice cairc liacl. to lrini. “ lIave yr it your pistols, l)t)y.~‘:”‘ “In course! Do we tvei' move without them, and loads of ammunition?“ “Come on! We‘ll find her, then.” But a long search covering an area on both sides of the. straight. road discovered not the slightest trace of the lost one. ' They had shouted themselves hoarse and fired the ir pistols rcpezttw ly into the air without hearing any sound. until at last Ike said, uneasily: ' “ Boys, l'm aft’Jl‘L'tl we‘ll have soniethin’ to shoot at afore long, if I ain’t mistaken. Don’t you hear?” “ Wolves!“ exclaimed the other two in a breath. Not another Word was uttered as they hurried on in the direction of the sounds. tBut suddenly Jack stopped and seemed turned to 8 one. . “ \\ hat‘s the matter. Jack Jarvis? Crme along!” and his companions tried to pull him forward. Poor Jack tried to speak, but the words froze on his lips. _ “I know what ails him,” wLir-pered Pete to his brother. “ Them ’ar wolves has got their prey. Don’t you beat ? They ain‘t tootiii’ an‘ wailin’, but snarlin’ an’ figlitin’. I’m afeared it‘s all tip with poor Kate, new!" » lantern and g0 “ I‘ll show you neither a woman nora want," Kate had said as she angrily left her husband. de- termined to be her own servant. " I can fetch the tub, and no thanks to him,” she added under her breath, as Swif ly and gracefully she almost ran in the direction of neighbor I’ai‘lie‘s. Her rutlled feelings made llt‘l‘ a little ungracious ‘ as each of the Farlie boys in turn insisted on carry— all the world supposes to be her uncle. For years he , has repudiated his daughter for fear some fee, by that clew, could limit him down. “ Tlen Aban V aliis—" “ Estavun Javali, at your service!" cried that worthy. risingfreni behind the pile of robes \\'llt rc he had lain coneealed, a Cocked i'cvolv er in his hand, which he lC‘Ytltd full at the breast of the t'ahfor~ nian. “ American, you are in a “kill—7‘31)“ have tracked the tiger to his den, now feel his claw tear at your heart.” llc pulled the trigger. but as he did so. with a loud shriek. the hapless. girl whose whole life had be. 1i 2‘ such a. hollow mockery. ti: 'ew iicrs‘elf before Gold.- I t lace and, receiving the assass'n's ball in her own ' breast, stink lifeless to the. floor. Swift as the stroke of the lightning, vengeance came. In an instant the Californian‘s knife was out and. before the Mexican could reera-k the revolver. it was buried to the hilt in his vile heart, killing him in- stantly. Nor was vengeance less swift to overtake the vil- , lain who. on the very verge of the grave, had stooped = . thar?” It .‘eeins to ‘iit lll f soul, as if on win 1:, .i n . . . To lngllt‘l‘ liigllits. axial say to it “ Rejoici!” bung}: no’ the COWboy captams replied m a I And I forget earth lov ' and sordid things. The". in obedience to their orders. the nine men, I And when I hear the sea make dolerous moan RY Wilmego Billy, reu‘eated t0 the distance ! 'l‘ l" 'k.‘ \" If s“ ’2 'I fit “ ‘ ‘ i" . ' * A‘ l ' . . . . 9 -N N‘ 1. .). ( h‘ .u. 11.1.15 h (11,"? m'ghty pam’ “I tell f, on w’ot it. is, boys, our pards WIII git ever- ' I think of joys and soiions [ have known, . ,, . u i to w. mm Of what has been, but cannot be again. Ia‘qtmgly salted’ Bluy 1‘ marde to the res” 0f the ' assa’ ' ma ' In his fury at seeing his ancient. associate slain. he attempted to rise. from the, Couch. burst a blood ves- sel in the attempt, and died iinineitliately. The Californian’s quest wa ended and justice had been done, although the innocent life of the hapless girl had been otfered up as a sacrifice. Oiir story is told. but with the accomplishment of his purpose the Californian did not turn his wander- ing footsteps to other fields and pastures new. He liked the town and determined for a time to re- main there. And the first business to which he turned his at- tention was the extermination of all the Mexican braves who hung around the. town. Tommy, the renegade re-l-iiian, was the first to feel the {U't'llg‘lllgf arm of the Hiin Horse. Being detected at cheating at c-trds. he was (.lrag- ged by the High llorse to the center of the town, tied to a tree and thrashed with a raw-hide until he When released lie was warned. never to show him— self in the camp again unless he came prepared to . lead a better lite, and so he. sluiik away. Both the Dutchman and the veteran hu'nmer were glad when (loldlace announced tliar he should stay some time in the camp. “ He‘s an honor to the town!" Major Bum dc- clared. “ By chiminv (‘hristinas dot- vas so. you bet me four dollars and a lialuf on (lot 1” Jake fl>S(‘lll(‘d. But after all were not the charms of pretty Posie the magnet that detained in the camp of Cibclo City, our hero, Gideon Goldlace, the High Horse of the Pacific? THE END. A Tragical Tutt. BY MATT. M’CASLIN. “I ursr wash tomorrow—that’s certain. And I can‘t wash withouta tub—that's certain too. And. as there is but one in the settlement, and it at net" li- bor Farlic‘s, some. one will have to go after it, and . female boot—black were belted to his side. and cquip- ‘ that’s certain Ur)" e. " ped with such tools as these, which could be drawn l and fired while a. man armed with the ordinary pis- j to] was getting his weapon in order for work. it was almost impossible under ordinary circumstances for ‘ a foe to get “ the drop ” upon him. llcsides, there were some. parts of the boy‘s story that he. felt sure were true. The black—bearded fellow had been badly hurt in the fight in the Fandango Hall. With his own eyes the Californian had seen him go down and at the time. he had muttered, “ well, that‘s good-by, black- board!" It was only natural too, under the circumstances, when the. Mexican felt death was drawing nigh, he. should endeavor to make his peace with man in an- ticipation of a visit to the other world. The Mexicans as a race are greatly given to super. stition and if a priest. had been called it was Certain that he would not give the (lying sinnerabsolution and so smooth his path to the regions beyond the skies without. he. (lid all that was possible to repair the sins which he had committed. I t- was reasonable.too,that the wounded man should feel somewhat aggrieved at the trickster whose gold had been the means of bringing him to his present unfortunate plight. _ Therefore to Goldlace the reasons why eveiything ought to be fair and honest seemed stronger than those which would make him suspect there was a. tra ). , ’l‘Io one of the common “ doby ” houses, built after the Mexican fashion, and situated about a mile from the town. the bov conducted the High Horse. The house only contained one room, which was scantily furnished; there was a rude sort of bed upon which the sick man was stretched, and a small table by the head of the couch upon which burned a. candle amid a half a dozen medicine vials.- By the table was a chair, and in the chair set the Mexican girl, Catarina, attentively watching the sufferer. I At the. foot; of the bed was a small stool. in one corner of the room a pile of wolf and buflalo robes, and that was all. That black-bearded Jose Camargo was danger- ouslv near to death it needed but a Single glance at his face to discover. I The few hours that had ela sed Since. he had re- ceived his wound had wrong it a. wondrous change i in the once strong man. A look of grim satisfaction appeared on his face as he. looked with his black bead-like eyes upon his itor. . H?‘ Did I not tell you so, Catarina?” he said, his for- merly hoarse voice now weak and thin. Tlfe girl nodded her head. n “I knew he would come. I do not love the 31011}! Americans, but I will own, even upon my (lyingr ocd, that they have the pluck of bulldogs." The speaker was a good-looking young woman of perhaps twenty—a fair SlX’CIlllcll of tlic bordtr beauty, glowing with health and strength: but who would have looked and felt as much out of plat-o amonglier effeminzite city sisters as her near neigh- bors. the Indians, would have done. Her husband. whose appearance was in exact keeping with her own. lifted his liandsmic bronzel face and said, rather impatiently: “I wanted to fix these traps and get their. set to- l inorrow; but if I have to tiot three miles. to fetch ' you a waslitnb, lcan’t. finish them to lll'fllt." “It isn't my tired we haven't a tub of our own,” said his wife, significantly. “I suppose it‘s urine, then. and if I could make you one out Of a hollow stump you should have it in a jiffy. I’ll go to town before long, Kate, or my . name isn‘t- Jack Jarvis.” l ‘ ready. “ You’ve been a-gi.1in9, these three months and aren’t gone yet. My pink calico gown will have. to be a flannel one when it comes now. And I‘ll soon have to follow the first fashion for baby’s clothes. Indeed I‘ve. begun to study the pattern of leaves, al- Besides, there are a dozen other things I want." “Show me a woman and I’ll show you a want,” retorted Jack, rather provokingly. “ I‘ll show you neither a woman nor a want,” re- provcd Kate, fiounciiig out of their cabin-door. “Now she’s gone off in a pet,” solilo uized Jack. “ It wants an hour of dark, and maybe the traps before I go. If only that pesky baby don‘t wake tip and bother me!” he added, glancing un- easily at the cradle where. slept a rosy cherub, whose round, graceful limbs gave promise of strength equal to that of its stalwart young father. Baby slept, and Jack worked, both unconscious Of the lapse of time; until suddenly the latter became aware that. he could scarcely see the chain that he was trying in vain, with his primitive tools, to “ splice.” “ Why.”lie exclaimed, starting to his feet, "it's actually gettin’ dark. and Kate not in yet! It's the longest out Iever knew her to take. But I must go for t 1e tub, new. “H0. Kate! wific?” he called, going to the door; but though Jack jiniior startcd. frightened from his nap, and added his shrill, penetrating shriek to the strong .voice of his father. no answer came, and “ The girl was afraid that you would not come when - you received my message. for fear it. might be a ; trap, but I felt sure you would. . “ ‘ Bali !’ says I to her, ‘the man is so venturesome that he does not know what fear is.’ “Sit down.” fi And with his feeble hand he motioned to the seat; at the foot Of the bed. Th.a High Horse obeyed the gesture. . “ You have been told that I am not long for this worlt .” The Californian nodded. “It’s the truth. I can feel it sure enough... I should have known it, even if the doctor had not in- ( n .. foanljfel‘é aém I, Jose Camargo, Black-bearded Jose as they used to call me when I first showed them that after repeated calls Jack grew alarmed. “ I‘ll beta hat,” he exclaimed, “ and I need one, too—Kate has gone for the tub herself! What a ganderI was not to think of it befor ! I'll go and meet her and take the (lratted tub. But I‘ll have to take you. too. I suppose.” he added, addressing his shrieking offspring. “ Can‘t carry a tub and a baby very well, either. 'But I know what we‘ll do. sir: we‘ll put you in the tub and carry it atwee-n us. Fun all ‘ronnd, and a good way for Kate and I to fine hands in a make-up. Poor girl; I wish I had gone when she {new asked me.” He tooka coarse woolen shawl from its peg and wrapping it around the child, shin; it. Indian- fashion, over his shoulders and was; scoi. measuring off the prairie in yard lengths. It was pitch dark. however. when he reached “neighbor Parlie‘s,” expecting confidently as be had notmet his wife, to find her there. “She took the tub, and starth back more than half an hour ago,” was the announcement that made his big loving heart stand still in his bosom. “Hang it! I‘ve missed her. then! She must have taken a roundabout way home. for I whistled all the way overand got no answer. She mus! be there by this time,” he added hopefully, though his voice trembled in spite of him, and he turned to go. can finish : ing the tub home for her. “ No; thanks! waits on herself,“ sli ‘ said, tart ly. ll'.‘l' \ oice inttfiled, however, in the depth or l'lllllcl' liiglit (if the huge. vessel as she walked (if, balancing it on her erect brad. lt grew dark rapidly. like a pall over her. hand as Silt) hell it up before her. She stopped, loweied her burden and looked in the direction of her home. expecting to see a light: but: nothing but iiikv darkness was visible all around her! “ I must have lost my way,“ she said, slowly, aloud. She was not a coward; but stouier hearts than hers would have quailed at the-sound that now fell upon her ear—the dismal, prolonged howl of a Wolf. quickly answered by another from an opposite di- l‘CC‘lOll. Kate lifted her burden and started forward; but the cries being repeated, she determined to abandon ll Clrnds gathered and hung “I must rtin faster,” she said; and dropping it, site sped away in the direction she supposed llcl‘ home must be. l at nearer and more numerous came the horrible sounds. and she knew they Were pursuing lier' “ (it id help me !" was the prayer on her white lips as a 1 ictiii'e of home and husband and baby fiittcd before her wildlystaring eyes. On. on. on, she ran—her heart sometimes thrilling with hope as she seemed to be gaining ground, and again sinking in despair as the cries grew louder and nearer. “May God bless and preserve my dear ones!" she whispered, ft eling that her strength was giving way. {mil her relentless pursucrs would soon be upon ier. It seemed that the end had come when her foot struck something and she fell ll’zltllOIifl, while her fierce bloodthirsty foes closed in around her! But, what was this? She had fallen over the tub, having described a circle in her mad (light! And now an inspiration, born of her terrible peril. thrill- ed the sluggish blOod once more in her veins! Raising it fiom the ground, she crept under. and Seizing the handles firmly on the inside, she held it down over her! A dozen panting muzzles were thrust over and under the edge of it: the skirt of her dress was pull— ed out and torn to shreds: her hands were scratched i , _ , ‘ Lilil‘ul‘leS. or for any of our [.ubhtations. and bitten; but still she liept her terrible position, knowing that as long as lzer streng it and. endurance held cut. she could kev-p them at bay. But now, "oh, thank God!” there are other cries than that of the wolves: there i re pistol shots and wild yells. and then a confused iziinglin: of sounds. The tttb is removid; whether or not by the wolves poorKatc does not know. for she is now, for the first time in her life, in a (lead faint. “She isn't hurt, only her hands and gown,” ex- . claimed Ike, examining the limp fOini by the light of the. lantern. “She‘s fainted, though. and no wonder. Pete, send a few more shots after the cursed varmints. 1 on might hit one yet." “ I guess they are most all lyin‘ dead here, now," a declared Pete, kic. ing first one carcass and then an- other. ' “Well. let the rest come back and eat ’em; we'll be moviii’ on.” “ (led be praised,” whispered Jack; and great scalding tears fell on his wife's white face as, he lift- td her to his bosom, refusing all assistance. This must have revived Il'v'I', for she soon opened her eyes. but was too weak to attempt walking. It was really but a short distance to the llt'llSC, but happen! (I to be on the side where there was no win‘ dew. or Kate could have seen the light which Jack had taken the IJI‘L‘CiluIlLll to leave, before going to , meet llé‘l'. " Follow on in. boy and takest‘aits.” kept bed. “ Yes. the very best kind of a seat." assented Ike. I lowering the tub he had carried and stating liiiiiSclf 1 upon it. "' (iod bless the tub,” murmured Jack. fervently. “Ill {10 and fetch iiiC-tlir;2'—slic‘ll know how to dress up them scratches," and Pctc turned toward the door. “ Where. where scanned the empty cradle. “ Little J".ch is at In lie". darlin’. tlier to bring him, too. Pete.“ Jack tilil the test he could until Mrs. Farlie‘s ar- rival. She. how -virr. soon had the poor torn hands is—" and Kate’s anxious eyes Tell your mo- done up in warm tallow and soft linen bandages. “They ain‘t deep cuts." she said, smoothing Kate‘s stmny hair in a mothcrly way; " but I‘m afraid, child, you can’t wash to—iiioirow. I think we had better do some mendin‘,“ she added, lifring the tattered dress she had removed to make the sufferer more comfortable. “I‘ll an ad that,” and Jack seized the garments, rolled itinto a bundle, and laid it behind the back- log. “Now. Mrs. Fal'lit‘,” he continued, “if you‘ll nurse my girlie a bit. I’ll start for town to-morrow. and get you each a gown fit for a queen. I‘ut.l would like to btiy that air tub of yonrn; I want it to be an honored member of my family while there‘s a splinter of it.” "It was woman‘s wit that saved her,” remarked Ike. “ Iwouldn’t ha‘ thought of jukiii’ down under the tub. Like as not I’d lia’ throwed it away." " That is just what I did.” admitted Kate, speak- ing with difficulty; and she slowly related her almost miraculous escape. “ It: was the Lord‘s doin‘s,” decided good Mrs. Far- lie, reverently. And Jack almost felt that he heard the rustle of the guardian angel's wing. Hand-Buok of unit Sports. Embracing: skating, (on the ice and on rollers,) rink—ball. curling. ice-boating. and American foot— ball. Togctlier with the special code of rules for prize skating of the Skating Congress, and records of matches at. base—ball and cricket on the ice. The whole illustrated with diagrams. By Henry Chad- wick, author of “Dime Baseball Player.” etc. Sold by all vasdealers; or sent, pest-paid, to any address, priCe Ttfi Unis". 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Why should the spirit of mortal be The maid, unto whom his affections are vowed, The warm shake of hand she may give To morrow may shake him completely His coat and his visions he. daily sees fade; He boasts of his talents, and boasts of To-morrow he‘s married and don't talk Oh, why should the spirit of mortal be You see him spring up like a frisky mushroom And go it quite gay in the days of his b To-day he is rich. and to—night he is broke; He flashes his gems which to—niglit are in soak; He has to pay for the victuals he eats, And more, too, unless the landlord he beats: To~da ' he is brave, and to-morrow he‘s Oh, W y should the spirit of mortal be Oh, why should the spirit of mortal be He is bumped on the corners and squeezed in the cro wd : He is always the last to ct on the street car When the seats are all fi ed, and he’s g Invests all his cash when stocks cease to rise; _ He holds his head high and slips down on the ice; The few happy moments that dawn on Is when he‘s asleep and snoring out clear. Oh, why should the spirit of mortal be proud? He thinks he is smart, but it isn‘t allowed; He thinks he is right when he’s generally wrong— Thinks he goes sure when he's going it strong; His umbrella is gone when he wants it to use; His boots always tight and his coat always loose, Or his boots always loose if his coat should be tight, And ever gets on the wrong side of a fight. Yes, why should the spirit of mortal be His pay-day han s over him 'ust like a If he cracks a jo ’e it is kille His visitors come. if provisions do not; The button is off and his collar slips up; If his ’bus does get started it never (1063 His note’s overdue and his meat underdoue; both spread and And so with these fates and these fortunes endowed Why in the nation will mortal be proud? His deeds and his grease-spots uill run- Around ihLliamp-Fire. BY CAPTAIN RINGWOOD. The Capture of “ Old Sampson.” “How war he took?” Sampson, which has since “How war he took? nv Greasers an’ baggin’ ther lot. thet this here thing uv two men sprea in s’ficiently to gobble in a couple uv dozen er more yaller-bsllies at onc‘t wur monstrous lryi/t’ work, an‘ it took him, he sed, more‘n two week to get himself to- gclhi'r arfz'n.” “Oh, drop Davy Crockett! How wur it about the b’ar?" growled an old ranger. “Hold yer boss, Hank; we'll git to enuff,” said the bear-tamer, goodnaturedly. see, I allers likes to tell uv the worryin' an’ skurryin' the b‘ar put me to afore I roped him in at last. It shows thet the critter‘s game, an‘ I jess wouldn‘t “Fight? Oh, no! me \Vfll‘ it, an’ we found 'em in a terrible state 11 over a bi o'ar as hed been raisin' Ole over ther rentry around. “They sed they hed shot a’most all t an’ lead at the varmint, but he didn't seem to mind ther bullets a bit more’ii ef they’d ’a peas fired outen a paw-paw pop-gun. “At thet time 1 war in wants uv jess es that; an’ so, arter lookin’at ther critter’s trail, an’ s: ein’ thet be war a bu’ster, I detarmiiied to give up t‘other hunt an‘ go fur him. "The kentry about the camp war a wild one. ’Twur right plum in ther mount‘ins, an’ yer all knows what therNevadys ar‘—jest sech a stampin‘— groun’ es Ole Eph likes est. “ Them Hoosmrs “Thet night I lay off in a canyon wli in ther habit uv passin’. ther gully. grumblin’ to hisself an’ tongue ‘s of he war hungrv. “I didn’t say nothin’, neither did the b’ar. You see, I war only takin’ his measure. an’ so he trotted along outen sight over a spur below the mouth uv ther canyon. “ At daybreak I tooka good look at ther sign, an’ diskivercd thet the bar war usen to comin‘ down ther gully; in fack, it wur his rcg‘lar be “Arter thinkin’ ther buziness over a mined to try ther dead-fall game onto ther holp uv them Hoosiers an’ Nick, I trap an’ got it done a hour by sun.” “How \vur ther trap fixed, Grizzly?" of the fellows. “Simple es rollin’ ol‘f’n a log. half er four foot high. " Ther ballance war easy enuff. I jest rigged a set uv ole-fashioned triggers, as they calls ther figgcr big ones. to be sai‘t’inly, an‘ then prizin" ther eend uv ther tree off‘n ther stump onto 5 ther triggers, an’ tyiii' a young calf, as I got from ’ four, whoppin‘ them Hoosiers, un’erueath ther tree Ole Eph. ger an’ ther deac -fall’d drap. “Well. thet night I lay watchin’, an’ ’long to’ards scramblin’ along ther gullyri ht onto dunno what started them ’ere oosiers that minit they all kem creepin’ up, sayin’ as how they wanted to see the fun. “ By th ther roun‘; then thar wara plum across Ole Eph’s back. alluv a heap an’ ther Hoosiers they iin’ktumbled down ther rock fur to 00 "I'iordyl what a t'arin‘, an” scratchin‘ an’ howlin‘ thet ’ere b‘ar did keep up, to be sart’inl “He war layiu’ kinder on his side ii the crowd got round, he all uv a sudden blin‘, an‘ jest lay quiet a-lookin’ at us. round to git the ropes as I hed fetched, when, all at onc’t,I heard ther Hoosiers yell, an’ went, lickety split, fur high grouu‘, runnin’ over one u ‘nother. tnrni like mad critters. “1 war stoopin' down over ther ropes, when, afore I know‘d what war up, somethin’ struck me on ther middle eend, an‘ I wish I may die of it didn‘t h‘ist a sky-racket, an’ I landed onto a more‘n twenty feet from whar I me up wuss ner big lie uv rocks star ed. “I war scart,boyees, durn nigh outen my wits ban hed sense cnuif to look back, and thar stoo thet grizzly. wi' ther calf in his mouth, me ’8 ef he didn't know whether to fetch mc anuther like it er not. “He made up his mind fur onc't, an‘ givin’ a big growl, he put» canyon an: war soon outen sight. “ How (lid he git loose? \Wiy. he riz ——’twur nigh two’foot through—an‘ throwed it off‘n his back a clean ten foot. “ When I got back “ Well. arter thet, Eph he quit ther took anuther range, so I bed to travel git in re‘ch uv him. “ I had deturmined to try stout ciiut‘f fur ther critter. “Twur purly much ther same kind uv fixin' as on the spot; exclaimed Old Grizzly Adams, on being asked how he had managed to capture the monstrous grizzly; bear known as Old ecome so famous. Well, lads, thet question ar' easy axed, an’ ’twon't be much uva strain to an- swer it, but I tell you, boyees ther job itself war jess about ther toughest piece uv work thet I ever onder- took, it war, by ther buckskin briches uv Ole Hick‘ry, as I onc’t heard Davy Crockett say when he to ’bout him an’ anuther chap surroundin’ a hull grist Dav sed, yer see, give a snap fur enny thing as hadn’t sand in its craw. o be sart’inly, Samp hain‘t no cralr, but he's got the sand somrwliar, yer kin gamble onto it heavy! Samp wouldn’t Jig/it. V by, he’s as timmersom‘ es a suckin' duck, is Sampl" . “ Cuss it all, Grizzly! go on wi‘ ther tellin yer snaked him," growled the old ranger again. “ Well then, me an’ a Califoruy chap, Nick Merri- his name, lied been up in the Nevadys thet season, an’ while thar we run ag'in a camp as bed about a dozen er so Hoosiers, es they called em. into _ war mighty scart uv the b‘ar, but sed as how they’d holp me all they could; an‘ so I went to work an‘ got reddy fur thircam ‘Twur full uv the moon, an’ ‘long to‘ards midnight he kem lumberin’ down Clost alongside uv ther b’ai"s trail I found jess the size tree I wanted. an’ one uv them Hoosiers throwed it so’s the eend laid onto the stump, which war out about three an‘ a clost by onto a clift a- day hyar kem the b‘ar e time they’d all got under kiver, ther calf hed smelt the b’ar an’ set up a bellerin’, and thet fetched Ole Eph down onto it wuss ner a red-headed duck onto a tumbly-bug. Ther b'ar fetched a howl as made them ‘ere Hoosiers try)’ to scrouge right into _ latt from ther calf, a smas n’ uv triggers, an’ down kem ther tree right Ther b’ar went down “ as how l‘d got my shar’, _ . to camp.l found them Hoo- siers all up ther trees hollerin’ to one ‘inithcr to know cf ary one could see the b’ar a-comin‘. H ther pen-trap onto him, an’ wi the holp uv ther Hoosiers. who jest cmth sling a ax, I knocked upa pen as I thought ‘d be --%7—E'% _—__ \ - AI wiullllnnr umw limmu. “autumn. l inside ther pen, an‘ then ther dead-fall war lifted up * Onto the trigger high enuff fur the b‘ar to crawl in an' tackle th er calf. “Arter ev'ry thing war fixed, I_lay ofi' same as before. an’ watched fur Eph to put in. proud? “The first night he fou‘t shy, but ther next 'un. 'lon s bowed—- proud? proud? him today away. :hort nap. his trade; so loud— proud? You oughter hed made it. loom; co wed — proud ? proud? much rest, I ’nuther by; oing so far; Eph kem him here too stout fur proud? Cloud; up an‘ down. stop; my head." tors in the ca. (1 ’ the‘rselves Samp' soon “ Yer how v ea'citemcnt Scratch all he‘r powder ‘ been gully sech a b‘ar aign. ar Ep war chawin‘ his at. bit, I detar- him, an‘ wi' rigged ther " asked one ther cave?’ ther b‘ar, an’ clost t0 the the trap. I war in order. ; but jest at kinder got us “ However. broke kiver git a good pect uv a s I go, an’ when uit scram- I ied turned eniiything th “ Suddenly away they heard ther 10 way an’ thet. a-blinkiu‘ at " The! war back up ther wi‘ thet tree givin’ in, an’ canyon an‘ “ I tried to some way to i “ Uv all th . ther biggist. ; an" when he found I _war com , wish I may die ef I didn‘t see t’othcr one as had failed. but I throwed a three-foot pleasant as I trce Over the pen. an prizin' it up. sot the. same kind I uv triggers as I had used afore. “ Yur see, ther bait—it \vur anutlier calf—war put ' ‘III to‘ards da break, sme t out ther him till mornin’, I went thet range fur a time. ther mountain “Didn't make no difi‘er‘ “ We had to fix some way arter ther b'ar hed gone so thet t'other eends jest bare] ledge uv rock, while he put a roll eend, druv a pin into both logs, an‘ tied a lariat to ’em by which we war to haul at thertproper minit. “Fur three da 3 an' nights I lay 0 rock waitin‘ fur Ther buck war be thought shorely ef t hood he’d scent it out afo “ Ther fourth nig r critter hed fastened onto somersets, an’ cussin‘ an‘ howlin’ ’ uv ther logs. “‘ Pull!‘ shouted Nick, an‘ we throwed our heft ethin’ give, an’ the next or jerked outen our hands, an‘ we onto ther ro we, felt som minit ther laria’t w “When mornin' kem, mouth uv ther cave, stretchin’ his big fixed up anuther bridge awhile, tl“;‘kin‘ ther beast war I ventured 'ovcr ther bridge. 5 thet ever enny man, as hed may sense into him, ever parformcd thet war seen thet pen, tel yer. ’em all. uv ther he kem grumblin’ along, f, an‘ made fur the pen. “In he went, an’ fur a minit er more I heard him rcraunchin‘ ther bones uv ther calf: then kem the sharp snap uv the sprung trigger, an' down fell ther tree lum-center across the to “ ph war ketched ag‘in, an a power he did raise inside them logs, . “ Arler a while he got uiet, an‘ thinkin' I‘d leave ack to camp an' tooka II. 3?] bobbcry now I tell you. " A leetle arter day I went out to look arter my b‘ar, but when I got thar, he warn’t nowhars round. er ruther ther logs as “ Why, boyees. thar war chunks, bigger‘n my head, bit clean out them logs, an’ they wus scat- tered all round fur more'n a hundered yards. “ Thet kinder weakened me, an’ I begin to think I didn’t want that b‘ar quite cs b uv days afore; but them Hoosi ' war too much fur me, an' I swore I'd rope him ef it took me. ten years to do it. “An' durii my ole moccasins ef I didn‘t! “ Ai‘ter the pen biziiiess, Eph played shy an’lefi Me an‘ Nick followed him, an‘ fur puriyni h a hull season thet b’ar didn’t hev \Vhy, we kem to know one sight, me an‘ the b‘ar did; an’ onc’t ed me in a canyun, an’ of it hadn‘t ’a’ been fer a hole in ther rock which I got into, but Which he couldn’t, ther game would 'a’ been blocked. Es it war, he kept me in thet hole till he found out I hed plenty uv grub in my possible sack, an’ then he give up an’ went ofi’. . “ We sot dead-falls, an’ dug holes in the airth, an’ built log pens, an' ther Lord on’y knows what we didn't do to ketch thet b‘ar, but he wur too cute er ad es I did a couple ers lai'fcd. an‘ sed he “ One day I wur mewanderin’ along ther side uv , thinkin’ up some plan that ’d work, when I noticed a narrer gulch on my left, on t’other side uv which thar war a cave opening right into ther side uv ther rock that war parfectly straight I means ther rack, not ther hole. I ve fur awhile. :l-\ v I, , {ya/41., ' , V7!" ' ’6’ ’ kin give yer all a better idee by sayin‘ thet . ef .a plank war laid over ther gulch, one eend restin‘_ in ther cave, an‘ ef a feller war to cross over an’ kick ther plank away from behind him, thar’ wouldn't be no airthly chance uv gittin‘ out uv thet cave, onless he war to jump down into ther gully, a matter uv a. hundered feet er more. ‘ “ Ther minit I see ther place I hed an idee pop into “It warn’t fur from the range Ole Eph new bed, an' mebbe I could persuade him to take up his quar- “Thar sot Ole Eph in ther “Thet evenin' I laid my plan afore Nick, an' he sed it moth work, ‘Ou‘y,’ said he,“what yer . to do wi‘ ther b’ar arter yer ‘ve got him safe into goiii‘ , so I ‘tole liim. 50‘s I got so Nick put off to kill a buck fur bait, Nick hit it at last. torm afore lon . et ever I hea while I )ut fur the gully to fix up some sort uv a bridge ur Ole Eph to cross over on. “ l throwed a couple of eend uv ther long one, ther dead—fall war reddy fur * when Nick got back wi’ the Yer kin all see how the thing‘d work. Ther b’ar would go fur ther calf, tech ther long trig- goodish-size. pinevtrees, an’ r deer, they war all ready to be shoved over ther gully. “ Arter a good deal uv trouble we managed to heave ‘em over, an‘ then w an’ laid him right in ther mouth. “ Thar war one more thing to do an‘ then this trap e toted the buck across to jerk ther logs back over, an’ fur awhile this He fixed ther logs y rested onto ther er under ther near on a ledge uv ph but he never showed u . ginnin‘ to smell power 11], an‘ I her b‘ar war in ther neighbor- re much longer. ht kem on cloudy an‘ wi’ a pros At midnight ther storm did bu’st, an‘ fur aw iile ther rac et beat rd in ther Nevadys. I heard a low growl outen ther dark- ness, an‘ when ther next flash kem I see Ole Eph at ther logs, feelin’ and snufilin‘ his way across. “ We waited fur anuther glimmer, an’ saw ther the karkidge an' war clear ‘ gs thunderin' down into ther gulch. thar sot Ole Eph in ther head this-a- Now, lookin’ up, then on both sides, an’ then down into ther chasm below. most foolished b‘ar th ct ever w jess looked outen his cy “ Well, thar war the War; but now I‘d what ther blazes war I to do wi‘ him? as puzzled me might‘ly, till at last I detarmined to Sta; re him out. “It took a good week a question then, artcr He-war ther or, I reckin, an’ he 0 ‘s of he knowed It. got him, afore he showed signs uv waitiu‘ three days more, I an‘ throwcd it across. I em )ected to see Ole Eph make a bolt for it cs soon es he (I see ther way cl ar, but, he never nor hide, but lay still cs me es war watcliin' him. moved ha'r a suckin‘ goat, \viukin’ at stir him up, but nary a move, an’ arter played er fool trick out entirely, Why, thet b‘ar war 'll‘ai/‘én‘ fur me. could. in‘ over. shore enuff, I ther thing grin jest es “ The minit my foot teched the rock Eph war onto :“He war mighty weak, thet is fur a b‘ar, but I thought lightning hed struck me when he laid his aw on. p “Well, we fou‘t in an’ out uv thet cave, all around ther month an‘ finally down to ther edge, whar it did look ’5 cf we both war goiu‘ over. “An’ we would, on'y for Nick Merrime. Jess es ther b‘ar hed worried me to the e an’ I could see bottom, I hung so fur over, Nick t rowed his lanat an‘ I see ther loop settle Over E h’s head. _ , “This kind 0’ stracted ther east's attention, an‘ I fou‘t- loose an’ made over ther bridge. , “Here we both lay bolt, though I war cut an chawed all ter pieces, an’ hauled ther cussed var- mint across to dry land. _ “ Jess as he re’ehed ther near side I let him have it atween the ears \vi’ a big club, an’ by ther time he him to, he war roped neck an heels. “ {Niel ar‘ how Sampson war captivated, boyees.” The Wonderful Cow. “’hat Mr. Suggs Told the Book-A gent. BY HENRY HARDING. HE (the book-agent, not Mr. Suggs) was tall and angular, had red hair and a short chin, and carried his “prospectus ’ under his arm with the air of a colporteur under sentence of banishment. He. knocked on the panel of Mr. Suggs‘s door with four knuckles on which the skin had grown thick and tough as leather with numerous applications for ad- mittance into farm-houses. . "Yes, I‘m at home,” said Mr. Suggs, in reply to he book—agent’s query. “Always at home. Vi alk in." “ name is Cheek,“began the canvasser. “Your neighbor, Mr. Sinallskin, said you—" “Jest like Smallskin," broke in Suggs. “Says a good many things about me. Said once I bought some stuff to make in mustache grow, and that it struck in and made t no hair grow out in another place. Said it grew out of m ' ears. He’s a liar l” and Mr. Suggs reflectiver stro ed a few gray hairs of what was meant for a mustache. " -—Mi~ht be interested in a n: w work I am intro- ducing,’ said Mr. Cheek, finishing what he at first intended to say. _ “I‘ve got all the work I want to do, Without any new-tangled notions,” assured Mr. Suggs. "My! but the work I’ve done!” he added,’ as Cheek’s mouth opened for another say. " Why, when I was a boy of sixteen I went to the woods once—we was makin’ a clearin’, then. dad an’ me, in the woods. They was lots of b‘ars and deer in them days. and all dad an‘ me had to live on one winter was dead fish. Fact, stranger. The streams was all froze solid, and the ice was so clear we could see it full of fish froze in, an‘ all we had to do was to dig ’em out an’ fry ‘em. Well, as I \ i .V, ,. W l ‘l \\\ \V m l l . l A change of three degrees in the weather would sendit up or down two or three feet in the the time. We never used to sell it. only in hot weather. can But we had to Be a good deal more of it, y e see. quit it.” _ “Why?” asked Mr. Cheek, now totally oblivious of his business, his book, and everything except Mr. Suggs’s cow. ' I “ W‘y, one fearful hot day I delivered the milk as usual, and lo’ards night it clouded over and grew coldei in blazes. Next mornin‘ nobody (i take a bit of milk, ’cause, ye see, the milk shrunk up like mer- c’ry in cold weather, and them as got a pint in the forenoon didn’t have an to speak .0! .at night. Cons’quently they was al mad an' said I d cheat?d ’em; when the fact was, ’twasu’t me, ’twas the ’monia I‘d give the old cow that made. the milk act so. But that wa'n’t a circumstance to what hap- pened not long arterward. Leid, what a fool I was!” “ What could be more extraordinary?” asked Mr. Cheek, his interest increasing. _ . “Why. ye see, I couldn’t sell the milk, an afore we ot around to use it, it soured. an’ dad told me to give it to the pigs. I nev r once. thought of its bein‘ cold and when the pigs drunk up the milk it warmed up '11 their stummicks and kllK er expanded like, same if ’twas hot weather. and by gosh! if every darned pig didn’t begin to roll ils eyes and stand kinder meditative awhile, an‘ then lay down an’ swell. Dad sed he never see’d pi .‘ grow so fast. Bimeby one on ‘em went pop! an then another, an” in ten minutes they was all (lead. Exploded—~— bu‘st u !” “Indeed!” Mr. Cheek had to express himself. “Yes, an’ that wa‘n’t the worst of it. The milk left in the trough kinder froze, or curdled, or suthiii’, and my old game—cock, that I’d been offered seventy- five dollars for, came along and tasted it, and called every blessed hen around him, and they all e’t their fil and all follered the pigs. That made me mad, an’ I swore I’d never give the old cow another hit of bartshorn. I see she kinder missed it. but she didn’t it any from me; but one day dad 've her a lot of it ’cause they was a man from New ork sent. to him or a few gallons of milk, and dad thought, as ’twas warm jest then. th‘t he’d sell as much milk’s he could out‘n as little. Arter he’d milked the old cow he took the milk into the cellar, and went out for suthin’, leavin‘ the pail settin’ on the floor. Down come mother and strained the milk intoa pan settin’ in the ice-chist. Then dad come in, and thinkin’ he'd like a bowl of bread and milk fer sup er, ot some of that milk out’n the icechist, an‘ wit out nowin‘ it, ate a. few mouthfuls, but be- fore he had time to finish his supper the cows got into the garden and dad had to o and drive ’em out. Before he got back his stummic felt out of order— kinder uncomfortable like—and dad went fer the doctor. Ye see, the milk bein‘ in the ice-chist had cantracted, and when it went into his stummick it «w- p‘anded, until it was as big around as a beerbutt. ucky for him the cows got out." ~ __ -. a.-.‘ \\“ -\<".\‘;;T - ' ““‘\‘ mouth ov ther cave, stretchin’ his big- head this-a-way an' thet.” was sayin’. I walked fourteen miles afore breakfast to git to my work—I was a powerful walker in them days. Why, I walked ninety odd miles one day, with the snow up to my neck every step of the wav, an’ sometimes deeper. You wouldn’t b’lieve it, ll 1'. Cheek, but when I went to examine some snow that was bobbiii’ up an” down, I diskivcred it was a pack of wolves chasin’ a deer. They must ha” started hours before, an’ 0t snowed in. Wouldn‘t b‘lieve it, would ye? We , I walked fourteen miles afore breakfast, as I was tellin‘ ye, and dropped down a hard ma 1c in five minutes that measured jest eighteen teet an‘ seven an’ a half inches through it; and, stranger, you won’t b’lieve it, but I got down more’n fifteen acres of timber that mornin’. The big ma le took down a dozen with it in its fall, an’ they too down more yet—it was like a row of standin’ bricks. one fallin down takes the next one. an‘ so on. Tell ye! them fifteen acres of timber was down in as many minutes.” “You misunderstand me," explained Mr. Cheek. “I meant a book. I would hke our opinion of it,” and he thrust his prospectus un er Mr. Suggs’s nose. _“llly opinion of it?” repeated Suggs, putting on his spectacles, and taking the prospectus. ““ by, what a mighty thin book it isl" “ h, these are only specimen pages " assured Mr. Cheek. “ which give you an insigli into the character of the book. For instance, you would like to know wherein Durham cattle are superior to the Devons or nice verso. 'Ifiirn to this indexed double- plate, showmg good and bad points, and the text ac- coni anyin it. If you—” . “'.alkin’ bout cows," broke in Suggs, “ uts me in mind of one dad had when I was a boy. he was a tearer an‘ no mistake. She was death on dawgs. \\ hy, I’ve seen her toss a. dawg up, first ’bout ten feet, then ketch him on her horns an’ throw him fif- teen feet,_ then next time twenty, an’ so on till he got to gom’ so high that the last time he fell he struck so hard on the old cow‘s horns that she turned a complete sum merset. Fact, stranger. But that was nothin’. Why, I‘ve seen the old fool walk up to a fence that kept her out‘n a cornfl ld, put the tips of her horns under the bottom rail, give her head a toss, and the rails ‘(1 fly for rods. She stuck her horns into a big punkin once, j st for fun, an’ when she had carried it till she was tired, she threw it into the to ofa tree more‘n a hundred feet 11 , an’ it fell own an’ killed thirty-four of dad s best sheep—flattened ’ein right out. You kin Jedge what fer Sized punkin it was, when I tell ye tnat we made a hog-trough out‘n a piece of it, and dad told me to fill it up with swill. and the old sow fell in and got drownded. Biggest punkiii I ever see. An’ butter? Lord! you’d ort to saw the butter we made out’n the old cow‘s milkl Why in fact she milked butter. Lots of times I‘ve brought in a pad of milk. an‘ the motion of the ail as I walked ’dfhurn the milk all to butter. Il‘zunniest thing of it was. though, when sellin’ the milk ‘d bring :IIIOI‘Q money than makin’ i into butter. \Ve d Jest give hera drink of hartshorn~0r ‘mouia as you call it—afore milkin’ time. She reelv seemed to like it. She used to wobble her horns" a little sometimes, an‘ the water’d run out‘n her eyes as fast as she could drink it up. and once one of her eyes popped out. but for all that she reelv enjoyed it fish drink. Efi‘ect was cur‘us, though, on the IIII . “ \Yhy, how was that?" asked Mr. Cheek. “Xou see, it wanted to act as a thermometer all ‘ ' You’ve “ I should say so, indeed," assented Mr. Cheek. ‘ “ Yes. dad felt riled, and so he. give. the milk in the ice-chist to the old cow. It did ii‘t kill her, as be ex- ected—leastways we didn’t see her die, though we iaiii’t saw her since.” “ How was that ?” asked Mr. Cheek. “ \\ hy, she jumped up an‘ hit her heels together two or three times as though they was a screw loose somewhere, an’ started off on a run, bellerin’ and lowin‘. She run into a quicksand hog, and when dad and me come up she was all out of sight but the tips of her horns. Dad fastened a. chain on one born the brass .knob on the end of the horn keepin’ it from slippin’ off, and fastened ’tother end to a tree. ieerd of foikses hair growin‘ arter they was dead? Well, the ’monia settled into that horn, and it had so much heart in it that the Izmw grew as fast as the cow settled down, till it was ni h on to about eighty-seven feet long. Powerful stufig, hartshorn is,” concluded Mr. Suggs, as be lit his pipe. “ Now what else ’ve got in yer book?“ ’ Battle With an Octopus. BY THE nx-nnroa’rzn. " THAT‘S an odd charm," remarked the ex-report- onto a traveling companion on the New York Central railroad, a few days since. "so it is," was the reply “ and it has a story " holding up a curious oval object in which was set‘a compass. It formed a bowl about two inches in diameter, and was of a substance resembling fish- scales, but of a rich opal line. The edges were ser- rated, and 'Wlthlll them had been placed a compass. “ If you didn‘t know what it was,” continued the owner, “you’d never guess, but not to keep you in suspense, it’s the sucker of an octopus that. attacked me once. If you remember, about four years ago there was a rumor lo the eiIcct that valuable pearl fisheries had been discovered on the Alaskan coast' in fact a large jewelry house. in New York displayed some large pearls that it was claimed came from that locality. It fooled a good many. as it turned caught me for one. I secured five men, good divers and started across the continent. and got there id find that it was all a swindle. There. wasn‘t a pearl Within two thousand miles, and to get my mone back went into the regular diving business. and a}: tei“ raismg several vessels we squared u am left. It was v(luringr one of these trips t iat Igot my Charm. We generally went down in pairs, but this day we were working at a small smack that had sunk, and I took the first spell down alone to see what was the matter with her. She was lying in about forty feet of water, some of her running lgear afloat sliowmg where sh- was. “'e anchored our sloop to it, put out a mooring, and in a few moments I was gonig slowly down. I suppose you can‘t ini- agine the sensation, but i never saw a diver young or old, that liked his business. To feel that you are strapped to weights and going down to a depth anchored for In about five, ro . I swun off and I found that two of her plgglsrs bad bugst right out. She was loaded With ig iron, and l reckoned the seaway had. jerked the ottom out of her. Havmg settled this I walked around her to the lee side, the bottom being a hard clean sand, and there I easily stepped aboard and walked toward the hatch. It was wide open, and as I stepped near it I saw something lhatll t0ok for a rope hangin over the coamings. Talon my boat- hook I gave it a punch, and it seemed to all off into the hatch. One of the main halyards was hanging clear, and, taking it, i swung off and lowered my- self into the hold to see if the iron had been covered with sand. "Down I went my book in one hand, and the halyard in the other, and when near the. bottom I let go. In a second i landed on a soft, yielding mass that, bound as I was, avc me a Slukt‘lllllg sensation. lt moved from um or me, and in a mo- ment I seemed to be surrounded by the ll 'iiig arms of some hideous creature. The * claspei my legs, wound around m body, and astened about my helmet gradually rawing me down and horrii‘ ing me so that fora moment I was utterly [|0\\'01‘tSS. But at the first alarm I had given the signal to draw me up and having a. large knife fastened at my waist, I attacked the monster, cutting it anywhere that i could strike. In a moment the animal had lifted itsvlf so that its body rested against my chest, and it seemed to be about as large as a flour barrel, with legs extending out from it, like the legs of a spider. I hacked at it with the knife, my armor reventing it from biting or (-uttin me, and soon ad the satisfaction of cutting it airly in two, so that it partly dropped off, and I tore the remaining arms away. I was dragged to the surface with part of it, however, clin ng to me. i was about ex‘ hausted with the wor ' and nervous prostration, and if the hadn’t unscrewed my helmet immediately I shoul have drop (I; but a few minutes in fresh air revived me an in that time I closed my career as a diver. I out think amillion would have tempt~ ed me to 0 down a rain.” “And t e charm? ’ “This charm, as I said, was one of the suckers that lined the arms, and had so cut into the rubber part of my sleeve that it had been torn from the animal in the stru gle, and as it was rich in color I kept it- as a curiomty. When I reached; the surface the men hauled up half the octopus with a boat- hook. I tell you it was a fearful si ht. The arms, when stretched out on opposite Sides of the boat, measured exacil twentyrseven feet from ti to tip. On their under Sides were these suckers, eac one a shelly cu with a sawlike edge. When the arm is wound a ut a fish or other animal, each of the suckers is (pressed against the flesh, the saw edge cutting an holding it firmly, while a pistondike ar- ran ement exhausts the air, and thus you are held by nndreds of air pumps, while the body of the animal is drawn toward you and the mouth applied. The latter was between the arms. There were no teeth pro er, their place being taken bya pair of hard blac bills that were almost facsimiles of a parrot's bill, except that the lower jaw received the upper. The tongue was armed \vith teeth for the grinding up of prey. “ You may be surprised to learn that in San Fran- cisco the Italians and Chinese eat octopi and the octopi fisheries are quite important. In a the fish mar ets they maybe foun hanging up. They at- tain a length of fourteen feet." “ Is yours an isolated case ‘1" we asked. “ By no means," was the reply. "Some cars a o a Flathead Indian woman was bathing wit a par y of companions, who finally left her in the water alone. All at once she disa neared. A boat was sent out and search made, an( after a long time one of the men saw the body at the bottom lying on some rocks. A man dived down, but came up, say- ing that an octo ius had the woman, and so it proved. The monster ha( seized and pulled her down before she could utter a cry. A long spear being secured, both the animal and its prey were brought to the surface together. The creature was almost as lar o as the one that attacked me. The lar rest authcnt c specimen from Alaska was seen by r. Dali, of the Smithsonian. It had a length of Sixteen feet, and a radial s read of twenty-eight feet. The body was extreme y small, however. n proportion. I believe ghey attain nearly the same size. in the Mediterranean ‘ea.‘ Telephone Echoes. A COUNTRY rroccr advertised “bald butter." Ho meant “ bullet ." though. IT is one of the inconsistencies of life that we throw bouquets at the soprano, and boot-Jacks at the tomcat. IT is a difficult matter to determine which the young.' man fears the more, her big brother or her lit- tle brother. THERE is very little satisfaction in having a man fined five dollars for an assault, if you have to pay your own lawyer ten dollars. THE most absent-minded of men is the professor who, when he hears himself knOcking the ashes out of his pipe, will call out, “Come in." THIS was the very concise verdict of a coroner‘s 'ury in Idaho: “ We find that the. deceased came to is death by calling Tom Watiings a liar." A PERT little irl in Troy boasted to one of her young friends t at “her father kept a carriage." ‘ Ah, but,” was the triumphant reply, “my father drives a street car." To say that a procession was three hours in ass- ing a given point doesn‘t according to the CM tag. Times, necessarily show that it was a long proces- skin, since the given point might have been a beer 8a oon. IT is the fashion to use one perfume only. Thus one girl always uses violet. another roses, etc. 2y this plan a young man‘s mother soon learns to dis- tinguish at a smell which young lady her boy spent the evening with. AN item is going the rounds to the effect that church members cmbrace three times as man ' wo- men as men. Yes, that is probably correct. ‘here is not more than twenty-five per cent. as much fun in embracing men as women. “ I‘M glad Bobbie‘s goin’ to school," remarked Mrs. Malaprop, “cause it’s teached b ' a good iedigrec— or synagogue, some folks call him I be love» and furthernio’ they don‘t have no currycouib, like these here new-fangled colleges.” " A PHILADELPHIA scientist can toll, on examining a hairpin, the color of the owner‘s hair.” And a. Philadc pliia woman, on examining a hair found on the shoulder of her husband‘s coat, can tell whether he has lied or not—and she is not a scientist, either. A WOMAN who is kissed by mistake in the dark always screams and makes a great row about it, but one can wager she is provoked in another way when the man commences to offer excusr>s and so. '8 he wouldn’t have done it if he had known who she was. _ WHAT right has Professor Young to spoil any vaca- tion plans by safying that a railroad train traveling at the rate of orty miles an hour without stops would be more than 365 yeais in reachin the sun and at the low rate of one cent amile the are would be $950,000? Mn. Bancnna does not think We carry with us the needs of the resent hysical organization into the spiritual wor d. Mr. eecher may be right. but it seems to us that Dives carried one of the needs of his physical organization into the spiritual world, and that was a need of water. A “WISH-BONE" wedding recent] New York, the ceremony being )e ormed under a floral Piece in the form of a w s hone. A very ap- propr ate emblem, no doubt; signifying that a few months hence, when the wife begins to “ bone " her husband for money, he’ll “wish ' WHEN a young man goes to a. lace to on board and discovers the motto, “ ive Us this ay our Daily Bread," hanging above the (Inor of the (lining-room he wonders if this is not a pliiiiitivero- quest from the hungry boardch to the landlady. and hcsuates before. taking the fearful plunge. Timur: are fifteen thousand Masons in Georgia. Now, isn't it just )ossibli- that the startling s ectap rip of a coluinn 0 men in high hats and cinbro dercd bibs, marching down street in broad daylight, car- i-ylng clothes-props and limp-rollers, has given rise to tho l‘lllllOl'S of a revival of Kuklux organization? An English Psychological society is racking its brains over he conundrum, “Are angels ever sleepy?” Not Very often, but when you hear a bootjnck rolling down the front stains. 'ou can make up your n ind that the angel‘s other is took place in ——-Y .5100 ' whi'li ‘ 2' » out to be. a dodge to start immigration, and it‘ w, t plmucuny amounts to the same thing. A LATE work on cti uette says “it is no longer considered cu ref/Zr to k 55 the bride at a wedding." \Vhile this to a certain extent breaks up an AIIH'I‘I- can custom, yet there are bridemaids— twelve. is the correct number—who “'1” have to be passed around. It is a good deal like hiring some one to do your dancing, though. Tm: various phases of the tender >assion have thus been exemplified: “A ship is foolishly in love when she is attached to n. buoy; she is prudently in love when she leaves the buoy for the iier; she places her affeclion beneath her when s ie is ’un- choring al‘tera heavy swoll, and she is desperately in love when she is tender to a inan-of-war. “Loox-a-heah, sah," indignantly exclaimed a colored gentleman, “does yer mean to call me a thief?” “Dat’s what I means.“ .m..z:.y-ym.é> x JELaéil—‘fi' mun—n45“ _ A -~ —.‘ 1:“ 535.11? bananas; Mmpda‘QK-AAJ I...- “ 1.3a“, ‘. :a'mfi‘on A); s 1 '..n:».3..~:_»-h~ 4 .:.._ .,-ii¢~$5~‘ '1 .-.2.-:.. X n -n'» I.. l ’ P , ‘ _ v _. v . - “ An‘ whv s-ih? “hue if a biorw :lllQlllfl out your pipe you would be ' ’Splain erse‘f ur lake dc rough eonsei uchi‘cs.” in} :S‘lll’ pleasant. to say the least. “ ‘a’so sce‘d yer when 'er stole (1 cont.’ “ Wal 3‘ v wanted first to I‘linlzlto I touched the deck, and as I dat’s all right. but cf yer iadn't er see‘d me I‘d c1" ‘ ’3 g- forward swinging? nlqggfiiliat haul ltlllt her, I walked \vupped yer, sho‘. lietter be petic‘lar how 'er fools ' ‘ t" . 5 10111] t e shrouds and Wld me, man, ’ca‘sc I comes from a proud am’ly." l. l, e ../,;9§.,- / l . “a N. l ‘ r .H, ,. r _ A , - -¥ , J ‘kf ‘ \ ~ - ‘) -\v.-gl4"A {l ){t ,