Pittston Gazette

              E»*ABI.1MIIKOlH.-t0 I r«*b. AM. NO. S3. f Oldest f ewsnauer id the Wyoming Valley PITTSTON, LUZERNE COT; PA., FRIDAY, MAY 22, 1891. A Weekly Local and Family Journal. BRAVE LOVE. with Kitty in my arms I began to tire. ALL ALONE IN THE BANK great lurch, and with a sob she sat down , Bail1 that the men who won victories and in the lap of a man with a raspberry j conquered the world shaved themselves, nose and deeply dyed anthracite whis- j I have got some new shaving soap that kers. As I came away she was still sit- smells like the upper drawer of Cleopating there, and, mingling with the dead, j tra s clothes press, and I have a bright museum black of his long jtite beard, I ,lcw strop, with a red case for it, and a saw the loosened masses, the great beautiful pad of shaving paper, and a wealth of insincere and antique oak hair hunk of alnm to staunch the blood if I which belonged, apparently, to the sal- the core out of my Adam's apple by eratus blonde. I mistake. Tomorrow, if the sign should But she is not here now. Neither is ; right, I will shave myself. county court. "Don't be silly," was the answer; "break up the old thing." THE LAST STRAW. MISERY GETS COMPANY, My footsteps were more uncertain. My limbs began to feel numb. At least I could die with Kitty. I looked at her face. Her eyes were closed. Had she fainted? I put my lips close to her ear. They touched her face. 'Kitty! Kitty!' Her eyes opened. Our lips met. Her arms drew tighter around my neck. My brain whirled. Was I becoming unconscious? I could feel that I was reeling as 1 walked. The water from above ceased to fall. The wheel stopped. A WISH It Was Too Much for Him—He Didn't He'd nothing but his violin. I'd nothing but my song. But we were wed when skies were bias And summer days were long. And when we Tested by the hedge The robins came and told How they had dared to woo and win When early spring was eold. Wo sometimes supped on dewberries Or slept among the hay; But oft tho farmers' wives at eve Came out to hear us play The rare old tunes, the dear old tunos. We could not starve for long. While my man had his violin, ' And I my sweet love song. What would I ask for thee, wish for thee, sweetv Skies that are peaceful and calm? Seas that arc s»ormless and winds that art soft "But it is not the bass viol we care about!"' said the Abelsbergers; "it is a question of right—of honor!" Want the Ureecheg. How a Well Man Became a Victim of the Prevalent Ailment. "Never felt better in my life," said the lawyer, as he entered and threw off his overcoat. WITH NOTHING AT ALL TO DIS- One of the ablest men of a century ago in freaks of the imagination and general airy embellishment of simple facts was one Monsieur Jarbo, a Gascon, for a long time a resident in Paris. In his service was an old valet known as Jean, whose unquestioning faith and earnest devotion had done more to render permanent the habit of shooting with the long liow, which so marked his master, than all other causes combined. This resulted from the latter invariably calling upon him after getting off some particularly fine effort in the way of fiction, to clinch it as a matter within his. personal knowledge. And when the gray headed old servitor corroborated with all seriousness the inventive Jarbo's narratives, there were few indeed who didn't at least pretend to believe even his most wonderful tales. TURB ME, SAYS NYE Bnt the court would not hear them, an 1 so they stormed the rectory and carried away the bass viol. As the low breath of a psaliu? No, as I love thee, I ask not that life "I'm glad of it, sir," said the cashier dolefully. "I'm feeling pretty badlymyself."A Group of Nice Hotel Thought*, a Mov- Be from all bitterness free Something of sunshine Now the clericals were furious and went to the bishop. "My dear friends," Raid the bishop, "you must be firm. If they have the bass viol they will take the organ; if they get the organ they will take the choir, and before yon know it they will take the church from over yonr heads. I am sorry that I can do nothing for yon, but you must stand manfully for your rights." ing Incident In Which a Large Hir- sute Blonde Figures, and a Free Shave and something ol In a Woodshed. Dear one, is better for thee strife. "What's the matter?" he asked, as he took up some legal documents and began a hasty examination of them. "Grip, I think, sir." the precocious Little Lord Fauntleroy who usually frightens people away from a hotel. He also has gone. You will not see him here now. Yon can almost enjoy yourself, it is so destitute of him. % Yet would I ask for tlice out of my love More of its sunshine than storm. With just enough of life's shadow and strife To keep thy heart tender and warm. Faith to look upward In gladness or gloom. Hope 'mid the direst defeat; Strength in all sorrow, and patience in pain, These would I ask for thee, sweet. p one leaped in. 1 knew no more. . lien I came to I was lying in bed. y was sitting by my side, my hand L-r . I'had been delirious for a week. [Copyright, 1891, by Edgar W. Nye.] South Hutchinson, Kan. This piece is written in the president's room of the Bank of South Hutchinson. The president is not here, however. Neither is the cashier, nor the teller, nor tho first Or second bookkeeper, nor the "Nonsense! Imagination. That's all that troubles half the people who are sick now." The world has aye gone well with us. Old man, since we were one; Our homeless wandering down the lanes. It long ago was done. But those who wait for gold or gear. For houses and for kine. Till youth's sweet spring grows brown and sere And love and beauty tine. Will never know the joy of hearts That met without a fear. When you had but your violin And I a song, my dear. The kicker also has gone. Ho did the best he could for the last few &xy3 that he was here, and then he found that one Fair Bostonian (on a visit abroad)— By the way, Mr. Kipling, may I ask what is your favorite vegetable? Ought to Make Him Solid. dt . r Alex,' and she stooped and kissed me. That kiss brought back to my bewildered brain the events that led to it. I (lid not regret them. yes met hers she said, 'Alex, The cashier retired and the lawyer Bettied back in his chair to pursue the examination of the documents. man cquld not do the matter justice unless he got a clerk who could speak several languages. So he went away, and now you can only seo the freckles on the front of the counter where he has kicked against his bill. Those and yet more would I ask for thee, sweet; Grace to be faithful and strong; Moekncss to bear all thy crosses and care. Courage to battle with wrong. May the good angels who watch o'er the good Guide thy dear feet as they roam. And in the land that is better than this Give thee forever a home! —Boston Woman's Journal. "Stand manfully for your rights." That meant taking the bass viol out of the tavern and hiding it in the rectory. Mr. Rudyard Kipling—Certainly, Miss Ticklowell. My preference among vegetables is the dolichos ensiformis  A few minutes later he touched a bell and the office boy appeared. When this was discovered the liberals, in all the smartness of black coats and white cravats, appealed to the supreme court. But their story had gone before them and they were not even admitted. So they resorted to deep strategy, bribed the keeper of the rectory cows, who in turn bribed the cook, and got from her the key of the storeroom. The next day as the pastor and chaplain, sunk in prayerful revery, wandered past the tavern, mingled with the sounds of ungodly mirth witbin they heard the well known voice of the bass viol. "Uncle Ben had come down to the mill, and not seeing the boat thought, of course, we had gone up the pond. He lifted the floodgate and started the mill to grind a small grist. Finally he chanced to see the boat with the neighbor in it out in the pond. He knew that we sometimes fished from the wheel, and with trembling hands closed the gate, rushed down and into the wlieel, to find me reeling and staggering like a drunken man in the water with Kitty in my arms. He got us out, but I fell unconscious. (Haughtily) "it is not a matter of the slightest consequence, Mr. Kip''  "Send Mr. Capias to me," he said. "He's not here, sir," replied the boy. "He sent word that he couldn't come down." Kansas generally and Hutchinson proper are in a more hopeful condition than for many years past. The abundant rains have guaranteed a good crop already, and a good crop in Kansas makes tho granaries of the globe laugh and hold their sides with ill concealed joy. Here also may be seen not only industry but thrift. James Garvey, the railroad rancounter and after dinner speaker (also a good before dinner conversationist), said yesterday that a neighbor of his advertised this spring for 100 men to catch driftwood on shares. He soon got a nice little crew at work, and has built up a good business, which is almost devoid of the disagreeable ele* meat of risk. It is as safe as the industry so popular on Madison avenue and Fifth avenue, which is conducted by the bright youth of New York, and which consists in stealing valuable cats and then waiting for a reward. Sometimes a dog which is distasteful to the husband is offered to one of these boys, with a two dollar bill in addition if he will drown it. He keeps it xintil the wife offers five dollars for its return, and then he sneaks it around to the house, thus making seven dollars on a 27-ounce dog (Hastily) "Or sword bean of India. * * * Certainly, Miss Ticklowell, certainly, I shall be happy to call on you when I visit Boston.'"—Chicago Tribune. Of course there were reasons for this compliance of Jean's apart from any particular tie of sentiment between himself and master. The old fellow had a weakness for finery and dress. Whenever, therefore, Jarbo had a dinner party for whose astonishment, if not edification, he had concocted the narration of some startling exploit, he always preceded the event by the present to Jean of a new doublet, a pair of silk stockings, shoe buckles or other garment. On these occasions the valet's presence was always secured by his acting as the chief of the table attendants. —Yankee Blade. "What's the reason?" "The grip." The lawyer grunted his dissatisfaction, and then said: THE OLD MILL THE OLD BASS VIOL At Taut. , "Funny how everybody's sick. But then it isn't a good day to be out if one has a cold. Never mind, Willie, Til make out the-papers myself." But he didn't. He looked out of the window and soliloquized a bit about the unhealthy and disagreeable weather. "Frightfully bad weather," he said, as he finally drew his chair up to begin writing. "Do I know anything about the rnins of this old mill? Well, yes. stranger, I should say I did, if any one does. It belongs to ine, br rather to my wife, what there is of it. I tell you I owe much to this old mill." In the gloomy garret of the tavern at Ober-Abelsberg, among other dusty, rusty and worm eaten reminders of the past, lay an old brown bass viol. No one knew whence it came; the year of its birth was a mystery. "The next spring a freshet carried the old dam away, and new mills having been built in Jonesboro we reclaimed the land where the pond had been, and the old mill had gone to decay. Kitty and I were married that fall. Father and mother lived to see our children playing round the ruins of the old mill, and died within a month of each other. Then they held a grand party meeting and prayed to the Holy Ghost for wisdom, and when they had thus prayed for wisdom they held consultation and decided unanimously to send a deputation to the holy father, and the head of the church himself shcnld confirm their right to the bass viol. The speaker was dressed in homespun, and appeared to be a thrifty farmer of forty-five. I had taken a walk before breakfast one morning as an appetizer out from Jonesboro, where I was attending court, and was standing by the ruins of the old mill when he came up. The roof had fallen in, windows and doors disappeared. The old water wheel had crumbled to decay and green ivy covered the rnins. The dam was now leveled to a road, and a cabbage patch had taken the place of the mill pond. In past years the bass viol hail occasionally given a sign of life. K a hat fluttered by or a mouse ran over the strings it would begin to chatter, like a talkative woman, to tell stories of the past and to sing songs of the bright days of its youth. Later it would only grumble a little when the wind shook the roof, but when the mice gnawed off all the strings it lay silent and uncomplaining in mold and dust. Immediately beneath this deserted garret was the dancing hall. There the pipes piped and the fiddles squeaked till all the dogs in town howled in anguish and the ears of the dancers were pierced through and through by the sharp, shrill tones. And no one knew how near lay the means of softening this discord with a good deep bass notel One day, when Jarbo expected several high government dignitaries, he gave Jean a particularly neat pair of breeches. The very sight of them made his heart dance with delight, although he felt that such a gift must be the prehxde to a more than usually strong demand upon bin? for dinner story indorsement. Nor was he disappointed. At table that night Jarbo excelled himself. Never had he painted his personal exploits in such weird colors. Even Jean, hardened as he was, grew pale at his master's stretching it, and for a moment left the room. Finally Jarbo turned, with the customary words: "Please, sir," said the office boy, entering again, "a telephone message." "What is it?" "Your partner, Mr. Legal Brief, sends word that he is laid up in bed?' "With what?" The liberals held a grand party meeting also, and strengthened themselves with the noble juice of the barley, and thus strengthened they held consultation and the decision was, "If they go to the pope we will go to the emperor!" So the two deputations set forth, the one toward Rome, the other toward Vienna. The poor old bass viol stood in a quiet corner of the tavern, and was sad at heart over all the silly quarrel of which it was the innocent cause; a quarrel which divided the household against itself and threatened the prosperity of the community. It often sighed for the quiet days in the deserted garret, the peaceful little birds who made their home in its broken case. "Now, I've told you the story of the old mill, and if you'll come up to the house and have a cap of coffee before you go back to town I'll show you the wife 1 won in the old mill wheel; and when you take a look at my daughter Kitty you'll see my wife as she was when we entered it that day. Two years after we were married an uncle of mine died and left me a farm up in Knox county, where we spend part of our timg; but there's no place so dear to Kitty and me as the farm on Cedar creek, for its soil covers the remains of dear old Ben and Martha, and here, besides, are the ruins of the old mill."—H. E. Scott in Chicago News. ins SALARY AS PRESIDENT. A.—Will you tell me where Great Jones street is? B. —Har? foreign or domestic correspondent or draftsman, whose duty it is to make drafts, and cut holes in them so that you cannot raise the draft to the third power. "The grip." "Ugh! This is a terrible day oht. Shut the window, Willie. There's a draught here that would kill a horse." We took a seat on a moss grown log by the side of the ruin, and he continued:You will wonder why I am here all alone in a bank, and in a state where I am so well known, and you will naturally say that it is an odd situation, and you will wonder how soon I am going to stop writing and knock off the door of the vault; bnt I shall not toy with the vault. It is open. There is no one to defend it. I can take my time. The police of South Hutchinson will not disturb me. I could do business here all day and clear into the night and no one would annoy me. "Yes, sir. I don't feel very well myself."The lawyer shivered a little as the boy retired, and after another glance out of the window settled down to his work. It wasn't for long. The cashier came in. "Til have to go home, sir," he said. "I can't stand it." "I was with Stonewall during the war, and had some pretty tough times, some narrow escapes and some hard tramps, but the close call and -fcard tramp that this old mill once caused me made all of my war experience seem, at least for a time, like a pleasure trip. This was the first mill built on Cedar creek, and was built many years ago by old man Ben White, who lies up yonder on the hill. Now, the roguish little redtails love to build'in old lumber, and so it happened that a musical couple chose our silent forsaken bass viol for a home. This circumstance drew the attention of mine host's little Friedel—an enthusiastic ornithologist—to the old instrument, and one day, amid clouds of dust and angry remonstrances from the redtails, the boy pulled the old ruin from its resting place and dragged it down the attic stairs. The Abelsbergers regarded the bass viol as a gift from heaven. The joiner came and repaired the broken case, the schoolmaster with his great spectacles came and put in new strings, and lo! at the next yearly fair, amid the topes of the pipes, sounded the deep voice of the venerable instrument, as a worthy accompaniment to devout hymns of praise to the patron saint. "And here is old Jean who was with me at the time, and will prove it." But his eyes started from his head and his jaw dropped as the valet put a bundle in his hands. "The grip?" asked the lawyer. "Yes, sir, the grip." "Well, if you're sick, of course that ends it. I'm not feeling well myself, but I guess I can stick it through. Turn off the 8team before yon leave, though. The room is frightfully hot, and I'll catch cold sure when I go out." The cashier did as told, and retired. The lawyer looked out of the window again, drew his coat closer about him, and was about to begin work when he heard a sneeze. Modern Furnace and Modern Store. A.—Will you tell mo where Great Jones street is? B.—Excuse me. I'm a leetle deef, It was about this time that a band of gypsies came into the village to beg and steal and make music for those who would be merry. Among them was one old fellow with more wrinkles in his face than you could count, but with coal black hair and beard. He took the H viol from its lonely corner and played. The Abelsbergers listened in astonishraent, for they heard for.the first time of what a bass viol was capable. The wisest nodded their heads and remarked sagely, "There is good ground for the bass viol war of Abelsberg." The wild music fired their blood, and before they knew it men and women, liberal and clerical, were dancing together in wildest confusion. The old gypsy's thin fingers pressed the strings, and in his hand the bow drew forth weird, bewitching strains that noQ$ could resist. Great were the drinking and dancing that night, "Take back the breeches, sir. I can't do it. It's too much for even me."? A little over a century ago Mr. Street, of London, took up the old Iloman idea of a bypocaust and made a furnace, which was warranted to warm all parts of the house, to conserve the heat and save the fuel, and to overcome all the objections against stoves and braziers. He must have had a good time fulfilling his guarantees, for the best furnaco makers of this later age cannot always accomplish all they desire or all that Mr. Street promised. But in any one of a dozen good furnaces the problem of heating is perhaps as well settled as it ever pan be while we get our heat from bnrningfuel. The worm had turned, the last straw had broken the camel's back.—Philadelphia Times, "After the surrender our army was disbanded, and the most on us was pretty close run. We had nothing, and no way to get anything. I was only about twenty-one then. I was strolling round looking for something to do, and I happened along this road one morning. Well, that morning the wheel waif in action. The gate was histed and the water was skurrying through. Old Hen White was standing in the door. I says: Down the street there is »three story brick block with brown stone trimmings and covering half a square. It is called the Indiana block. It probably cost $400,000. In it a mamma hornet is building her nest. She and I own the town. How quiet it is! The hum of industry and the sharp, metallic report of the city council have died away, and the last echo of the exploded boom has long since been smothered by the deep silence.A.—Where is Great Jones street? After Many Days. "I'll have to charge yon for that boy, madam," said the conductor of a westbound train the other day, as he punched the ticket of a sharp featured woman of middle age and held out his hand for the additional fare. "Is that you, Willie?" he asked. "Yes, sir." "What's the matter?" "The grip, sir." ,, "Go homef' roared the lawyer, home, and don't die in the office." "What for?" she asked. "He's more than five years old. He looks as if he was nearer fifteen." "'Morning, sir. Can I get a job here?" He took off his spectacles, wiped 'em, put 'em back on and looked at me. Even as the hungry torrent and the dry and ashy deluge smote the business interests of Pompeii and hushed the great heart beat of industry and life and social activity, so the lightning sought out and perforated the shiny and distended boom of South Hutchinson, and today, while the mocking bird whistles in the peach orchard far away, and the shorthorn buhl-buhl is calling to her mate in the bluegrass pastures across the heaving prairies, myself and the mamma hornet in the $400,000 brick and stone block are practically controlling the business course of the town. "Go "Ain't you Jack Sampleton, that used to live down in Streator about eight years ago?" inquired the woman, eying him keenly, Then the lawyer fooled with the steam pipes to get the temperature exactly right, couldn't satisfy himself, and put on his overcoat to keep from catching cold. He tried to finish his legal work, but his temperature rose and he gave it up. He made a run for the telephone, called up a stable, and asked for a carriage." 'Soldier? says he. But the furnace has by no means driven the older stove out of use. Never was the enterprise of stovemaking carried on to so great extent as now. Never were so many stoves made and sold, never were such skill and art expended in their manufacture, and never were they Buch things of beauty as now. The modern parlor heater is a triumph no less in art than in utility. To the very greatest possible extent it controls the beat generated) reducing and almost suspending combustion, conveying the gases away perfectly, and even aiding in the work of purifying the atmosphere of the room, and at the same time intense heat can be produced with the minimum of trouble.—Chicago Herald. A BEAUTIFUL MAUVE BEAfcD. It was a new awakeped life, and there was great rejoicing in Ober-Abelsberg. As is the usual custom at these fairs, the way lay from the church directly to tho tavern and up to the dancing hall, and of course the bass viol went along too. If his reverence finds its possible to drink wine from the chalice in the morning and from the tankard in the afternoon, it cannot be too difficult for such a venerable bass viol to play hymns in tho morning and waltzes and quadrilles in the afternoon. And, as in the church it had breathed out its soul in devotion, so in the tavern the strings sent forth such gay and joyous tones that the pastor himself could scarce refrain from joining in the dance. So it went on for several years, the bass viol serving in church choir and dancing hall, until at one very jolly wedding the bride, dizzy from the wild dance, sank down upon the old instrument and crushed in its back. Then it was laid aside for a year or two, until the Abelsbergers, missing the bass tones, brought out their old friend and patched it up again, and again there was great rejoicing. Now there came a time which farseeing men called great and full of promise, but which nevertheless turned many a quiet village into Bedlam. In such a place in ordinary times one could find plenty of good, honest workmen, a few cross officials, a fat priest or two, and perhaps occasionally a thin sexton or pious sister of charity, but now there were only "liberals" or "clericals." No other distinctions were made, and if, for instance, the "liberals" had been inascu line and the "clericals" feminine, the matter might have been easily settled; but it was war between friend and friend, between father and son, between husband and wife, between priest and burgomaster, and—between church and tavern. " 'I was,' says I, 'till th» surrender.' sometimes. Lot booming seems to be pretty well over, and now that the law has gone into effect reserving 100 acres of land in each county for agricultural purposes there is nothing in the way of prosperity. " 'Luckier than my boys,' says he. 'One of them staid behind down at Stone river. The other's lying up there on the hill—shot in front of Richmond and come home to die,' and the old man took out his handkerchief and wiped his eyes. 'Did yon ever work in a mill? "Yes. What of it?" "Used to buy your butter and milk of Widder James?" The gypsy baud has disappeared, and whatever may have been the decision of pope and emperor, the bass viol not been seen in Ober-Abelsberg oiooe that memorable night.—Translated from the German of P. S. Rosegger by Grace Isabel Col bar u for Short Stories. "I believe I did." Pueblo, Colo., is going to have a mineral palace that will certainly astonish and delight everybody with its luxuriance, taste and beauty. Abundance of money has been produced, and the building will be open by the middle of June. It will be the finest exhibit of minerals, no doubt, in the world, and the building will be worth going hundreds of miles to see. The dome is said to be the second only in size in this country, and the decorations are most beautiful. The arts and sciences will also htfve a part of the building. The Gold King, the Silver Queen and King Coal will be beautiful and costly figures of great size, and will be in session during the entire time- The palace is Egyptian in style, with American door handles. "I'm the Widder James. Recollect the last jar of butter you got of me—the one you was going to pay for inside of ten days?" "None in," was the reply. "What is the matter?" he asked. " 'Well, that don't make much difference,' said he; 'business is picking up and you can stay. I'm getting old. I'll pay you what I can afford to. We can tell better in a week or two. Have you been to breakfast? " 'No.' "The grip. All out at funerals." "Why — Mrs. James, didn't—didn't r  He gave the telephone a wild ring and called for the family physician, meanwhile buttoning his coat up. "Is Dr. Quinine in?' he asked. "Yes, sir," was the reply. From the front door of my bank I can see the steam laundry of Sontb Hutchinson, but no steam escapes from the waste pipe. No gle&ining white shirt tails crack defiantly in the crisp zephyrs of Kansas. No hot, soapy air of industry and prosperity comes from the broken windows and sagging doors. No strange, mysterious health garments or singularly distorted and unnatural lingerie, distended by the lascivious breeze, hangs on the broken and ragged clothesline. B.—I don't know—Fm a stranger here. —Scribner's Magazine. "That jar of butter, Mr. Sampleton, hain't been paid fur yet, and this boy lacked abont a month of bein' five-yearold when yoa got it. Does he go?" "He goes, madam," said the conductor, as be passed on with a sickly smile. "The boy is probably large for his age." —Chicago Tribune. A man walked along Wisconsin street very jauntily, bead erect and stepping out boldly. Of a sudden he fell. It w?M no fault of bis, bnt the water into which he soused and splashed was no less foul on that account. A sweet faced, motherly woman saw him and gave involuntary voice to her ready sympathy in the little exclamation: Different Views of It. " 'I have not,' I said. "Tell him to go to Lawyer Jones* house at once. IH be there before he can get there." "He can't." ♦'•Well, go to the house,' said he. 'Tell Batty (that's my daughter, the only one the Yanks didn't kill) to give you breakfast, and come back; you can work on the dam to-day. There's some leaks that need stopping.' My Friend O'Gallacher. My friend Sullivan O'Gallagher was in business for himself. Washington'* Sword. When John Brown went to conquer the south with twenty-three men he believed that the les3 he trusted arms of flesh the more Jehovah might be depended on to unsheathe his sword. The only other sword Brown considered worthy to be used by the Almighty was that which Washington was said to have received from Frederick the Great One of Brown's men (Cook) came as a spy to Bel Air, and was hospitably shown the Washington relics for which he inquired. Brown told Colonel Washington, after taking him prisoner, that he wished to get hold of the sword "because it has been used by two successful generals.'' The superstition cost him dear. In order to get the sword Brown detached six of his men to go after it— five milts away. He thus lost half a day, and all chance of escape. Seventeen lives were offered as on an altar before this mythical sword.—Century. The fact that it was peculiar did not make it less profitable. "Why not?" "The grip." My friend O'Gallagher was a watchman at the hospital, and the City Fathers paid him a good salary for sleeping and eating and cheating. Pictorial Phrase. The lawyer turned his collar np, went d&wn stairs, got a cab, shut the windows, and shivered all the way home. He was in bed three days,, tad hasn't talked about imagination since.—Chicago Tribune. "So I went over the hill to the house. I still had my Confederate uniform on, and Mrs. White met me on the piazza. I saw tears on her cheeks, and I suppose the uniform reminded her of her own boys. I told her I was going to work for Mr. White, and that he sent me over for breakfast. So we went in, and she called Kitty, who soon had my breakfast on the table. Kitty was about four years younger than I, the picture of health, cheeks as red as roses. Her sparkling eyes kindled a spark in my heart that has never gone out. After breakfast I went back, and Kitty went with me to tend the mill while her father went to breakfast. He showed me the leaks in the dam before he went. Near by stands the blacksmith and carriage shop of South Hutchinson, but the village smithy and the red fire of his forge have gone out together. On his door is written in blue paint, by means of a rather passe broom: "Poor fellow!" He never wronged his friends, for he had but one—his stomach. He could eat a safe, warranted indigestible; and his conscience was lazy and slept, even when O'Gallagher was awake and about his business. The man arose and pursued his courso. Two blocks farther on ho met a friend going in his direction. The two stepped and conversed together earnestly, probably upon business matters of importance. As they stood so, a young girl slipped on the crossing, and 'spite of inuch enthusiastic clutching at the atmosphere, went down in a heap. At which our male pedestrian feelingly remarked:Among other minerals to be exhibited will be native gold, silver, platinum, mercury, copper, magnetic ore, chromic iron, celibate, pyrites, galena, nickel ore, quartz, feldspar, calamus, mica, beryl, tourmaline, pearline, garnet, malachite, Hittite, hornblende, serpentine, asbestos, wavettite, bracite, baryta, gypsum, calc spar, talc, stalactites, free silver talc, stalagmites, fluor spar, sulphur, graphite, alum, borax, bluing, salt, coal, lime, cement, green and dry hides, stove wood and plastering hair. There will also be pilasters of white and colored marble, alabaster, onyx, agatized wood and obisidan. Other things will be added from time to time. It is really going to be a most wonderful collection of the rich minerals of the most wonderful state in tbis most wonderful republic.A Specimen IDtter. Gone to the Upper Congo valley : to shoe a parole of elephants. Will : be back in a few momenta. : Among the queer features of journalism are the letters very respectable and worthy people write on subjects which interest them and on which they need more explicit information. Here is ono verbatim, and it is given merely as a specimen and with no comment: My friend O'Gallagher also supplied certain institutions with dead bodies— "stiffs" he called them—for the edification of various young men and in the interest of science. O'Gallagher was watchman, sexton, gravedigger and chief and only mourner, bo he had it, as he was wont to tell me, "All me own steering, and no bloody bobbies interferin'," for my friend O'Gallagher was an English Irishman. The air of the shop is still and depress ing. Where once the melody of the anvil rang out, and the soft and seductive odor of the scorched foot of the bronco filled the glad morning, now all is hushed. The red glow has died away in the giant heart of the forge. The smithy washed his great big honest hands in the water trough, and pulling down his sleeves to conceal the bright red beard upon his massive forearms he went away. Rust and ruin are giving place to the activity and crush and hurry of trade. AFTER DARK; OR, THE FLIGHT OF TIME. —Munsey's Weekly. "If her shoes had been big enough tar her I'll bet that never would have happened."—Milwaukee Sentinel. He Took Chances. Dear Sir Hobo ken, April 17th. A white boy about ten years of age was playing with a colored boy a year or so younger on CaDhoun street when the mother of the latter called from the open door: I wish you would answer the following Puzzle as there are various opinions on the subject."Laying on C» Hands." "In fact, I worked a week patching up the old dam, and after that I worked in the mill and on the farm and in the garden; drove the produce to town, and became more and more attatched to the place and to Ben and Martha White and to Kitty. How I did love that girl! I was never so happy as when listening to the music of her voice. I shall never forget the evenings spent in the big front room before the open fireplace when 1 was Ben White's hired man—Ben and Martha, and Kitty and I. I used tC? crack hickory nuts and butternuts on an old flat iron, and Kitty popped corn, whiler the winter wind was whistling outside. My iriend, the agent of a Buffalo wall ptper house, was "taking on" with • headache in the waiting room of the big depot iu Philadelphia, when a slick looking stranger about 25 years of age Kit down beside us and asked: A monkey up a tree I see a monkey up a tree the monkey is on the opposite side of the tree, I walk around to see the monkey and he moves around as I do keeping the trunk of the tree between he and I all the time. Now when I get back to where I first started the monkey is still opposite. I have been around the tree, have I been around the monkey and whkt value if any are postage stamps issued during the late civil war or between the years 1880 & 1865. By answering you will confer a favor upon a con. stant reader. We, Cs & Co» Abroad American (in foreign land)—Who are those fellows on the corner? One day my friend O'Gallagher observed the fact that the occupant of bed 10, ward C, was in a bad way, and the chief physician said that No. 16 C would be among the angels or somewhere else, where no respectable member of society would care to be seen, in about thirty minutes. "Reuben, what you doin' out (lar?" "Playin'." "Who you playin' wid?" "Playin' wid Albert." "Is he cull'd or white!" "White."- Native (respectfully)—One of the gentlemen is an English sailor, another is a German peddler, and the tfiird gentleman is a French cook. I had a strange and wild experience last month. I had been in the hills of North Carolina four days, and a beautiful mauve beard had sprung np like a bed of asparagus all over my face, because I was not within eight miles of a barber shop. I got on a late train at Biltmore. The Biltmore station was formerly a hog incubator, but it was found that the air was so bad that the piglets died off, and so it was condemned and made into a depot. I sat there three hours, and all that I could find to read was a copy of The American Beekeeper for 1879, and it had been used to clean the lamps with. Bat I read all of it. Part of it I memorized. One would imagine that the venerable bass viol, as common property of both parties, might be a point of neutrality; '-an contraire," as the more cultured put it, it became a very bone of contention. The schoolmaster did not play in the choif now, bo the new choirmaster— who not only served the clerical banner, but even carried that banner himself— sent to the tavern for the baas viol. But the innkeeper commenced to grumbl—"the bass viol belonged to the liberals; the joiner mended it and the joiner was liberal; the schoolmaster put in the strings, and the schoolmaster was liberal now; it was found in the tavern, so the tavern was its home, and the tavern was liberal. So the bass viol, bow and all, was liberal." "Is the ache mCDstly over your eyea oi ;n the back of vour head?"' Excuse me a moment while I step into the cashier's room and pay myself off as president of the bank. I will be back in a moment. "It's all over my head," groaned th« American—Who is that gentleman now approaching? victim. "Den you walk youself straight in yere in a mi nit! How many times has I got to tell ye dat you can't pick up wid all tleae white boys dat cum along widout dun losin' your reputashun? Skin fur dat back yard, sah I"—Detroit Free Press. Then O'Gallagher put No. 16 C in a wooden box, lifted him on his shoulder, carried him througtf the graveyard to hia wagon, dumped him in, chirruped to the mules and started off in the direction of the medical institution, "Exactly. Proceeds from a nervous etate of the system. Ah! your pulse is away up. Let me see your tongue. I thought so; a cold current of air has chilled the nerves along the spine, and a smashing headache is the result." —Truth. Native—Oh, that chap is one of thes» 'ere American consuls. — New York Weekly. Down a street or two farther is the barber shop and bath works of South Hutchinson, but even the voice of the barber is still. I couldn't, if I tried for weeks, express the full meaning of the term "quiet" any more powerfully than that. Here and there about the door the quick eye of the visitor may see the shorn and grizzled locks of the honest boomer of other days, but the lather is dry in the old sink, and the last echo of the loud smelling hair oil of the happy past has died away in the bosom of the poorly planned acoustics of the past. The Real Danger. Mamma (after the|slderly visitor had gone away)—You shouldn't have run out of the room when Miss OVlsby tried to take you on her lap, Willie. She was not going to harm you. A La«t Resource. No. 16 C complained of the jolting and remarked that he was still alive. "Are you a physician?' I asked. No Change. "16. summer Kitty and I used to g6 fishing. Sometimes we would go up the pond in the boat, and sometimes when the mill was not running we'd go down there and get inside the big wheel and fish in the deep hole. There's where we generally got the finest fish. One day we had just got our fishing tackle out of the mill, and was hesitating whether to go up the pond or down in the wheel, when a neighbor came over and asked us to lend him the boat. He took it, and we went down in the wheel. We'd been fishing probably an hour, and caught some fine ones, when all of a sudden down poured the water from the floodgate rbove, and the wheel commenced taming. The sudden start threw us both down. I got on my feet in an instant and helped Kitty up, and we commenced to tramp in the direction opposite to the way the wheel was moving. We had to in order to keep our feet. I was calling as loud as I could, but it was of no use. "The noise made by the falling water. the revolving wheel and the grinding mill drowned my voice. We couldn't get out. The plank from the mill had "Well, no, uot in the ordinary sense. I .am called a professor. Some call me a fakir, even. I effect cures by what ui called laying on of hands. You aw skeptical, of course; but I'll agree t« cure your friend here in ten minutes or forfeit $50." Poet—You didn't say why you returned my last poem. The one before you said was too long, but this last one was only four lines. Willie—She wasn't, hey? She had her mouth puckered all ready for it, anyhow.—Chicago Tribune. "Shut up, you blackguard!" said my friend O'Gallagher, "Didn't you hear the doctor say ye'd be dead in thirty imputes, and sure isn't it forty-five minutes' drive to the institution?"—New York Evening Sun. Literary Editor—I have only to repeat what I said before. You must make your poems shorter or we cannot print them.—Boston Transcript. Revenge. There was a barber shop at Biltmore, but being Sunday it was closed while the proprietor scrubbed the clotted blood off the floor. I do not shave myself yet, though I am going to try it this Bummer. So I took the train, "bearded as 1 was like a pard, as I heard a poet get off the other day. I stopped overnight at Knoxville, but left before the shops were opened in the morning. That evening I had to argue in the hall at Dayton, O., and would get there at 8:15 p. m. So I saw no chance to get shaved. I feel naturally great pride in my personal appearance. It is all I have. When one has been endowed that way I do not think it is wrong to add to one's personal beauty by shaving every five days. "For heaven's sake go ahead!" groaned Tom. "If you can cure me in an hour I'll give you $10'," Even the low, hoarse death rattle of the bathtub has ceased in its silent throat, and the gas leak, with its hands across its breast and its feet in the soap dish, recks not of the flight of gathering years. "Well, Uncle Mose, I hear you have another pair of twins at your house." "Yaas, missus, yes, we has. Lord bress dey little hearts." Honored. Next Sunday the pastor had no text from Holy Writ to expound; the bass viol was his subject. He began cheerfully:No Time. We went down into the baggage department, where the performance wouldn't attract so much attention, and the fellow began passing his hands over Tom's head and face, and also rubbing his hands. He hadn't worked a minute before Tom said he felt better, and in tes the headache was entirely gone. Book Agent—1 am Belling a very fine work here; a book of etiquette. "Years ago, when the bass viol was discovered, it was looked upon as a gift from heaven, therefore it was clerical. Its voice was first heard in the church, and the schoolmaster who first played It in churcb and tavern was clerical at that time, and if the bride who sat on the bass viol and broke its back was not forgotten, he yrould call to mind that that bride was now the wife of the sexton, and if he, the pastor, finally asserted that the instrument was originally made for the church, no one in town could prove the contrary, so the basa viol waa clerical and belonged to the clericals." Merchant—Don't want it. "Have you named them yet?" "Yes'ln. Done named 'em aftah two ob de fust presidents ob dis country." Book Agent—Just cast your eye over that chapter headed "How to Give a Dinner." The hotel is also qniet. Wait till I close the safe and we will go over to the hotel a moment. No one rushes to the door to pnll the handle off your valise and check it for you. No one stands behind the richly caparisoned counter to give you a dripping pen with one leg amputated and a dead cockroach on the other. You can select your own room now—with a bath and southern exposare too, if you wish it. The police will pot bother you. You can bathe in the aquarium in the dining room if you feel like it, and there will be nothing  about it in the papers. The hotel piano is not going now. The huge Percheron saleratus blonde of the effete east is not playing "White Wings.'* She has went away. She has taken with her also her Uttle wad of hydrophobia. They decided to flea together. You will see her soon at Coney Island, and tipping up one side of the United States wherever she treads the writhing streets. I saw her on a bobtail car last summer. She was standing up and holding a damp dog, for it was a rainy day. She was holding on by a strap and starting the gathers in her skirt a good deal. Her dress waist was made with a little jaick rabbit tail to it which hunched up more and more as we moved along, and extended out over the dashboard, as I may say, like the tin, anti-caterpillar overskirt on the giant ehns of Boston Common."Indeed? What two?" Merchant—I'm too busy finding out how to get one.—America. The Standing One—Where shall we go this afternoon? We have done all the plays, seen every bargain in town and don't owe a call. "Ole Christofo C'lumbus an' Jqleyous Caesar, ma'am. We'se great on namin' de children fo' de pres'dents't our house." —Detroit Fp*j Press. "Now, don't offer to pay me or I be offended," he said, as lie stopped work, "and you'd better git quiet right where you are for about ten minutes. Close your eyes, thus, and lean back a little more, so." Ticks—Miss Smilax has such abominable taste. Wickles—What makes yoa think that? Ticks—Why, her hair and her eyes don't match at all.—Boston Courier. A Terrible Laclc of Taste. The Sitting One (resignedly)—Then 1 suppose we shall hare to look at som* pictures. —Life. A Rapid Pace. Mr. Depew's genial and popular pn vate secretary, Mr. Harry Duval, has an electric fan over his desk which he can set agoiug by touching a button at th« rate of 2,000 revolutions a minute whenever he thinks the office needs venti!* tion. The other day a club maq who had a decided load ou came into Mr. Duval's office, either on business or pleasure, I know not which. As he stood at the private secretary's desk trying to look solemn Harry pushed the button A startled look followed by a relieved expression flitted in turn on his visitor's face, and then he remarked, "I shay, old fel, if that squirrel goes round any faster h«r'U break his blamed neck."—Brooklyn Life. Obnoxious Waiter—Have ycu forgotten nothing, sir? Guest—No. I left, it for yon.—Life He bowed himself out in a graceful way, and had been gone fifteen minutes when Tom carefully arose, opened his eyes and suddenly cried out: He Collapsed. I spoke to Joe Harris, a member of the Tennessee legislature, about this, and he said rather tough to lecture with a "Ten-Nights-in-a-Barroom" beard, and would I mind letting him shave me at the junction, where we had to wait thirty minutes. I thought a moment, and then I said I believed I would venture. He was very kind. He did not do it as a general thing, but he wanted to do me a favor, and he had a nice razor that came as a prize to each subscriber of The Little Hustler, a monthly child's paper. Too Much Follow. No Cause for Worry. A bow backed, white haired old man, who must have been 75 years old, arrived at the Third street depot the other day in company with his wife, who hadn't passed 25. While she was busy looking after the baggage to go out again by train he strolled outside, and after walking around for ten minutes h« returned to the waiting room just in time to be seized by the collar and asked: A Detroiter who returned from Buffalo the other day decided to walk to his home on Adams avenne. After getting np to Fort street he discovered that ha was being followed by an old woman with a valise. He made two or three turns, and as she continued to follow, and at the same time appeared to be a ■tranger to the route, he halted and asked: "And is there anything you ever did that you are really sorry fort'' asked th» good brother who had come n to propare the dying man for the last great change. "Is there anything you'd like to free your mind of before you go?" "Robbed, by thunder!" fallen in the water when the wheel started, and gone floating down the ptream. The water poured through the eracKB in the offl wheel an over us. The deep hole was full now. There were two feet of water in the bottom of the wheel. Tramp, tramp, tramp through two, now three feet of Water. I held Kitty by the hand, and we kept on our tramp. 1 was praying it might be a small grist. Neighbors often brought a two bushel bag of corn to be ground in a hurry. I thought that if that was the extent of the grist we might stand it. We kept up oor inarch till Kitty gave out. The water and the tramp, tramp had ?urn bed her limbs. Her lips moved, but could hear nothing she said. I only knew that phe was sinking down in the A very clear argument, but unfortunately there was not a liberal in the church. The liberals sat in the tavern ana sang annting songs to tne accompaniment of the basa viol. One evening, however, the chaplain thought to himself, ''Actions speak louder than words," and to prove the truth of this saying be stole into tho tavern under Syer of darkness and took away the as viol. The fakir got $90 iu cash, a railroad ticket to Washington and a diamond pin worth $125, and the police haven nabbed him to thi3 day.—New York Sun. "Yes," feebly murmured the dying' man, "there is one thing that weighs upon my soul, one thing which I must confess and relieve my conscience of a terrible load. In shoveling off my sidewalk manj years ago I fear that I drew »he line further than I'd ought to, s« that I shoveled off two or three inches oi my neighbor's walk. Do you think il will be forgiven me?" Very Consoling. "Boy/ said a lady on East Elizabeth street, "have you seen a little lost dog anywhere on the street?" "A little black and tan?' "Yes." "Where have you been all this time, you old deceiver?' "Madam, can I assist yon?" "Not as I knows of," she replied. "But you seemed to be following me. "Well, when I got off the train the conductor told me to follow the crowd and I'd be all right, and so I took after you. Hope you'll slack up a little after this, for I'm almost out of breath."—Detroit Free Press. "Lookin' around," he humbly replied. "Looking at what?" We got off at the junction and retired to the woodshed of a pleasant little cafe near by. The rest of the passengers came along also. All of East Tennessee not otherwise engaged came too. Some left their work and came. They were still coming when we got through. The effects of the anaesthetic wore off as J (approached Lexington, and my face (pained me a good deal, but I looked betler, every one said- Mr. Harris deserves my thanks, and J heartily tender them. I can truly say that I was never more delightfully shaved ia my life—by a member of the legislature. The affair became animated at once. The liberals went to the district court and entered a complaint against the pastor, accusing him of appropriation of the property of others. "Well, I saw a boy, a dog, two hacks and a woman, and I was"  " Yes, I saw him right down by th* Old Gruff—I rather like that little fellow, Stuff. He's really a knowing young chap. Wh»i the Trouble Was. alley." "Saw a won an, eh? You bet you saw one if she was to bo sawn! Now then, you collapse, and if I have any more trouble with you look out for your "Thanks." Good Brother—You needn't worry, Nobody'll ever believe it of you.—Bo® ton Transcript. "But he isn't there now. A great1! big deg caught him right at the alley an/ chewed him up." "Mercy!" Old Fluff—Knowing! Why, the little idiot never opers his mouth. ' "Nonsense!" answered the court. "A whole community in arms about an old bass viol! Go settle it among yourselves." And the liberals took the bass viol back to the tavern. bones!' A Wily Statement. Water. I picked her up in my arms, She whirled him around and pushed him into a scat, and after falling with a thud ho folded his arms, crossed his legs, and didn't even dare look up when the man beside him said: Old Gruff—That's just it. He knows enough to keep it shut.—New York World, "And gulped him right down." "Heavens, no!" Senior Partner—Look here, Mr. Sheep ly, the 1st of January you came to mi and said you were seriously thinking of getting married, and on the strength of that I gave you a raise in yonr salary What's the matter? Aren't you going to get married? A Serious Matter. "It's too bad about Jack Farthingale, isn't it?" said one member of the Bohemian club to another. with one hand put her arms around my , neck and resumed my tramp in the middle of the wheel. Then the clericals went to the dean and protested against this invasion of their territory. The dean advised them to go to the bishop, but in the meantime to take back the bass viol. Then the instrument again disappeared from the tavern. "Yes, he did. I guess he took him for a piece of beef. You needn't feel so very bad, though. The big dog is down there now, and he's pawing and howling and aches all over. Ill bet your dog stuck in his throat, and that he'll choke to death in less'n half an hour."—Detroit free Press. ?il believe I felt happier than I had fvet felt in my life. I held Kitty in my arms. Her arms were around my neck, though I did put them there. I could feel her breath on my cheek. I could w§lk now easier than before, but even Her hair alscf was becoming disarranged, and one could see a sediment of galeratus on her flushed scalp. She did not know whether to let her hair come down or ask some total stranger to hold the dog. At that moment the car gave a By Twos and Threes. A miller went along the way with his donkey. "What has happened to him?" was eagerly asked. "Inclined to be a gay old daisy, eh! Well, you ought to lxave left her at home. Third and fourth wives are always inclined to lie jealous."—Detroit Free Press. "They say he is crazy." "Who says so?" "Where are you two gring?" asked a wit. Since then I have bought some razors, and as I write these lines I am nerving myself up to try one of them. Napoleon Sheeply—No, sir. I thought so sen - onsly of it that I concluded I wouUn't. —Harper's Baxar. "Slocombe. He says when ho passed Jack on the avenue his head was turned." —Detroit Free Press. "To get something twvat for uathree' —Philadelphia TUjwj Ttlis time the liberals went to the