MY SWEETHEAHT.
Her eyes are lovclr. I won't tell
What hue their loveliness may show ;
Her braided hair becomes her well ,
\ In i
TL t Is myt&ret ,
" ' '
'
if' f
-
She wa Iks with such a dainty charm ,
Bui whether she be short or tall ,
Of rounded limb or yph-llkeform-v ]
Her figure suits me that Is all 1
Nor do 'I choose the" world'to know
If silk her dress , or calico.
Tous'glrl is worth her weightss
Not in rough , gold , but diamonds fine ,
And whether that be small orgreat
I leave the reader to divine.
Ask me to gu gether solid worth
fehe would outweigh the whole round earth 1
*
To rhyme her praise la such delight
That I must keep it to myself- . ,
IJcst one should better versep write-
"
And lay me gently "on the shelf.
1 am not 'jealous , but you see ,
This charming girl belongs to me.
' "A MELODY.
The clothes-line was wound securely
around the trunks of four gnarled ,
crooked -old apple-trees whum stood
promiscuously about the yard back of
the cottage. It was tree blossoming
time , but these were -too aged and sap
less to blqasom freely , and there was
only awhite bough here and there
shaking"1 * itself * -triumphantly from
Ainongat.the rest , which had only their
new green leaves. There was a branch
occasionally which had not even these ,
but pierced the tender green and the
flossy white in hard gray nakedness.
All over the yard the grass was young
and green and short , and nad not yet
gotten any feather , ) heads. Once in a
while there was a dandelion set closely
down amongst it. *
The cottage was low , of a dark- red
color , with white facings around the
windows , which had no blinds , only
green paper curtains. "
The back door was in the center of
the house , and opened directly into the
green yard , with hardly a pretense of a
Step , only a flat oval stone before it.
Through this door , stepping cautious
ly on the stone , came presently two tall
lank women in chocolate-colored calico
gowns , with a basket of clothes be
tween them. - They set the basket un
derneath the line on the grass , with a
little clothes-pin bag beside it , and then
proceeded methodically to hang out
the clothes. Everything of a kind went
together , and the best things on the
outside line , which could be seen from
the street in front of the cottage.
The two women were curiously
-alike. They wore about the same
height , and moved in the game way.
Even their faces wore so similar in
feature and expression that it might
lave been a difficult matter to distin
guish between them. All the differ
ence , and that would have been scarce
ly apparent to an ordinary observer ,
was a difference of degree , if it might
be so expressed. In one face the fea
tures were both bolder and sharper in
outline , the eyes were a trifle larger
and brighter , and the whole expression
more animated and decided than in the
other.
One woman's scanty drab hair was a
shade darker than the other's , and the
negative fairness of complexion , which
generally accompanies drab hair , was
in one relieved by a slight tinge of warm
Ted on the cheeks.
This slightly intensified woman had
been commonly considered the more at
tractive of the two , although in reality
there was very little to choose between
the personal appearance of these twin
sisters , Priscilla and A ary Brown. They
moved about the clothes line , pinning
the sweet linen on securely , fcheir
thick , white stockinged ankles showing
beneath their limp calicoes as they
stepped , and their large , feet in cloth
slippers flattening down .the short green
grass. Their sleeves were rolled up ,
displaying their long , . , thin muscular
arms , which * were sharply pointed at
the elbows .
They were homely women ; they were
fifty and over now , but they never
could have been pretty in. their teens ,
their features were too irredeemably
irregular for that. No youthful fresh
ness of complexion or expression could
ever have possibly done away with the
impression that thty gave. Their
plainness had probably only been 'en
hanced by the contrast , and these women ,
to people generally seemed better lookIng -
Ing than when they were young. There
was an honesty and patience , in both
faces that showed all the plainer for
their homeliness.
One , the sister with the darker hair ,
onoved a little quicker than the other , !
nd lifted the wet clothes from the bas-
\ets to the- line more frequently. She
-was the first to speak , too , after they
lad been hanging out the clothes for j
some little time in silence. She stopped j
as she did so , with a wet pillow-case in
her , ' hand ) and looked up reflectively at
the flowering apple boughs overhead ,
and the blue sky showing between ,
while the sweet spring wind ruffled her
scanty hair a little.
"I wonder , Mary , " said she , "if it
would 'seem so very queer to die a
onornin1 like this , say. Don't you be
lieve tfiere's apple branches a-haugin'
over them walls made out of precious
. onaef f it wouTd seem such an awful
1C to go from this air into the air
of the Now Jerusalem. " Just then a
robbin hidden somewhere in the trees
began to sing. "I a'pose , " she went j
on , "lhat there's angels instead of rob-1
bins , and they don't roost up in tree *
to sing , but stand on the ground , with
lilies growin' round their feet , may be ,
up to their knees , or on the gold stoncn
in the streeot , an * play on their harps
'to jeo with the singinji" ' "V T
The othervsister gave a scared , awed
look ! at hr.r 'Lor , ( don't talk that wy ,
sisjer ' aid imo. 'tWhat lisa got iutu
you lately ? " 'You mate mo crawl all
o-er , talkin' s much about dyin' . You
feel well , don't you ? "
Lor , yes , " replied the other , laugh
ing , and picking -up a clothes-pin for
her pillow-case ; " 1 feel well enough ?
an't don't know what lias got me to
'talkinnsd'much''Sbout' dyin' * lately ? or
thinkin about it. I guess it's-the spring ,
weather. P'raps flowers growin' niake
anybody thinkof wings sproutinj kinder
nateralfy. I won't talk BO much about
it if it bothers you , au' I don't know
but its sorter uateral it should. Did
you get the potatoes before we came
out , sister ? " with an awkward and
kindly effort to change the subject.
"No , " replied the ether , stooping
over the , clothes-basket. There was
such a film of'tears' in her .dull blue
eyes that she'could not distinguish one
article from another.
"Well , I guess you had better go in
an' 'em then ain't worth
get , ; they any
thing , this time of year , unless they
soak awhile , an' I'll finish hangin' out
the clothes while you do it. "
"Well , pVaps I'd better , " the other
woman replied , straightening herself
up from the clothes-basket. Then she
went into the house without another
word ; but down in the deep cellar , a
minute later , she sobbed ever the pota
to barrel as if her heart would break.
Her sister's remarks had filled her with
a vague apprehension and grief which
she could not throw off. .And there was
something a little singular about it.
Both these women had always been of
a deeply religious cast of mind. They
had studied.the Bible faithfully , if not
underataudingly , and their religion had
strongly tinctured their daily life. They
knew almost as much about the Old
Testament prophets as they did about
their neighbors ; and that was saying a
good deal of two single women in a
New England country town. Still this
religious element in their natures could
hardly have been termed spirituality.
It deviated from -that as much as any
thing of religion which is in one way
spirituality itself could.
Both sisters were eminently practical
in all affairs of life , down to" their very
dreams , and Priscilla especially so. She
had dealt in religion with the bare facts
of sin and repentance , future punish
ment and reward. She had dwelt very
little , probably , upon the poetic splen
dors of the Eternal City and talked
about them still less. Indeed , she had
always * been reticent about her relig
ious convictions , and had said very lit
tle about them even to her sister.
The two women , with God in. their
thoughts every moment , seldom had
spoken His name to each other. For
Priscilla to talk in the strain that she
had to-day , and for a. week or two pre
vious , off and on , was , from its extreme
deviation from her usual custom , cer
tainly startling.
Poor Mary , sobbing over the potato
barrel , thought it .was a sign of approaching
preaching death. She had a few super-
stitious-liko grafts upon her practical ,
common-place character.
She wiped her eyes finally , and went
up-st'iirs with her tin basin of potatoes ,
which were carefully washed and put to
soak by the lime her sister came in with
the empty basket.
At twelve exactly the two sat down
to dinner in the clean kitchen , which
was one of the two rooms the cottage"
boasted. The narrow entry ran from
the front door to the back. On one
side was the kitchen and living room ;
an the other , the room where the sis
ters slept. There wore two small un-
Rnishod lofts overheard , reached by a
step-ladder through a little scuttle in
Lho entry ceiling , and that-was all be
sides. The sisters had earned the cot-
; age and'paid for it years before , by
working as tailoresses. Thpy had quite
i snug sum iu _ the bank besides , which
; hey had saved out of their hard earn-
ngs. There was no need for Priscilla
vnd Mary to work so hard , people said ,
jut work hard they did , and work hard
; hny would as long as they lived. The
nere habit of work had become as nec-
jssart'to them as breathing.
[ fust1as * soon as they "nad finished
; heir meal and cleared away the dishes
hey put on some clean starched purple
jrints , which were their afternoon
Besses , and seated themselves at the
wo front windows with their work ; the
louse faced southwest , so the sunlight
itreamed through both.It was a very
varui day for the season , and the windows
dews were open. In the yard outside
jreat clumps of lilac stood close to
)0th. They grow on the other side of
he front door , too ; a little later the
ow cottage would look half buried in
hem. The shadows of their "leaves
nade a dancing net-work over the
reshly yellow floor.
The two sisters sat there and sewed
> n some coarse vests all tho"afternoon. .
Neither made a remark often. The
oem , with its glossy little cooking-
love , its eight-day clock on the mantel ,
ts chintz-cughionodrocking-chairs , and
he dancing shadows of the lilac leaves
m its yellow floor , looked pleasant and
reacefnl.
Just before six o'clock a neighbor
Iropped in with her cream pitcher to
iorrow some milk for tea , and she sat
lown for a minute's chat after she had
; ot filled. They had been talking a
aw moments on neighborhood topics ,
rhen all of a-sudden Priacilla-lefc her
wrk fall and raised her hand. "Hush ! "
rhispored sho.
The other two stopped talking , and
islened , staring at her wonderingly ,
iut they could hoar nothing.
"What is it , Miss Prisciila ? " asked
the neighbor , with round , blue eyes.
She was a pretty young thing , who had
piiot been married long.
"Hush ! Don't speak. Don't you
hear that beautiful ' mus\c \ ? " Her. ear
was toward'the'opertVindow ,
her hand still raisedwtimiugly , and her
e'yes ffixed on' ttie opposite wall beyond
tueniT * " " ' * * - - * -
Alary turned visibly paler than her
usual dull paleness , and shuddered. "I
don't hoar any music , she said. "Do
you , Miss Moore1/ , *
"No-o , " replied the caller , her simple
little face beginning to put on a scared
look , fipmVvagiib sense of a mystery
shejcouid not fathom. , t
Kifary.Browii rose * , and went to the
; door/.and looked'eagerly up and down
the street. "There ain't no organ-man
in sight anywhere , " said she returning ,
"an'I can't hear , any music , an' . Miss
Moore can't , an' we're bp .h sharp
enough o' heanu' . You're jist iniagin-
in'it , sister. "
"I never imagined anything in my
life , " returned the other , "an' it ain't
likely I'm goiif to begin now. It's the
beautifulest music. It comes from over
the orchard there. Can't you hear it ?
But it seems to me it's grnwin' a little
fainter like now. I guesc It's movin'
off , perhaps. "
Mary Brown set her lips hard. The
grief and anxiety she had felt lately
turned suddenly to unreasoning anger
against the cause of it ; through her
very love she fired with quick wrath at
the'beloved object. Still she did Hot
say nuioh , only : "I guess it must be
movin' off , " with a Jaugh , which had
an unpleasant ring in it.
After the neighbor had gone , how
ever , she said more , standing before her
sister with her arms folded squarely
across her bosom. "Now , Priscilla
Brown , " she " exclaimed , "I think it's
about time to "put a stop to this. I've
heard about enough of it. What do
you s'pose Miss Moore thought of you ?
Next thing it'll be all over town that
you're gettin' spiritual notions. To
day it's music that nobody else can
hear , an' yesterday you smelled roses ,
and there ainjt one in blossom this time
o' year , and all the time you're talkin'
about dyin' . For my part , I don't see
why you ain't as likely to live as I am.
You're uncommon hearty on vittles.
You ate a pretty good dinner to-day for
a dyin' person. "
"I didn'tsay I vas goin' to die , " re
plied Priscilla , meekly ; the two sisters
seemed suddenly to have changed na
tures. "An' I'lTtry not to talk so , if it
plagues you. I told-youJLwouldn't this
mornin' , but the music kinder took me
by surprise like , an11 thought may be
you an' Miss Moore could here- . I can
just hear it a little bit now , like the dy
in'away of a bell. " *
"There ! " cried the
you go agin oth
er sharply.1)0 for mercy's sakestop ,
Priscilla. There ain't no music. "
"Well , I won't talk any more about
it , " she answered patiently ; and she
rose and began setting the table for tea ,
while Alary satfdown" and resumed her
sewing , drawing the thread through the
cloth with quick , uneven jerks.
That night the pretty girl neighbo ;
was aroused from her first sleep by a
distressed voice at her bed-room win
dow , crying "Miss MoorePMisaMoore ! '
She spoke to her husband , whoM
opened the window. "What's wanted ? " 11
he asked , peering out Into the dark
ness. ]
"Priscilla's sick , " moaned the distressed - 1
tressed voice ; "awful sick. She's faint1 1
ed , an' I can't bring her to. Go for the.i . i
doctor quick ! quick ! , quick. " The t
voice ended in a shriek on the last J
word , and the speaker turned and ran
back to the cottage , where , on the bed
lay a pale , gaunt woman , who had noi
stirred since she left it. Immovable
through all her sister's agony , she lay
there , her features shaping themselva
out more and more from the shadows ,
the bed clothes that covered her limbs
taking on an awtul rigidity.
"Sho must have died in her sleep , '
the doctor said , when ho came , "with-
aut a struggle. "
When Mary Brown really under
stood that her sister was dead , she left
tier to the kindly ministrations of the
* oed women who are always ready in
mch times in a country place , and
ivent and sat by the kitchen window in
; he chair which her sister had occupied
; hat afternoon.
There the women found her when
; he last offices had boon done for the
lead.
"Come homo with mo to-night , " one
laid ; "Miss Green will stay with her ,
vith a turn of her head toward the op-
> osito room , and un emphasis on the
jronouu which distinguished it at once
rom ono applied to a living person.
"No , " biiid Mary Brown ; "I'm
L-goin to sefrhero ar. ' listen. " She had
ho window wide open , leaning her
tead out into the chilly night air.
The women looked at each other ; one
apped her head , another nodded hers.
'Poor thing ! " said a third. I a
"Yousec , " went on Mary Brown ,
till speaking with her head leaned out
if the windoV , "I was cross with her
his afternoon because she talked ubout
icarin' nnuiic. I was cross , an' spoke
ip sharp to her , because I loved her ,
mt I don't'think she know. I didn't
rant to think she was goin to die , but
ho was. An' she heard the music. It
'true. ' An' I'm '
fas now a-goin' to get
ioro au' listen tiH I hear it too , an'
hen IJH know she ain't laid up what I
aid .ain me , an that I'm a-goin 'to
. ,
They found it Jmpossibla to reason ai
rith her ; there she sat till morning , 6 (
nth beside her lis- ra
a pitying woman , -
aning all.in vain for unearthly melody. raas
Next day they sent for a widowed as
iecc of the sisters , who came at once ,
ringing her little boy with her. She
ras a , kindly young woman , and took !
up her abode in the little cottage , and
did the best she could for her poor
aunt , who , it soon became evident ,
would never be quite herself again.
There she would sit at the kitchen win
dow and-listen day after day. She took
a greatfancy to her niece's little boy ,
and used often to hold him in her lap
as she sat there. Once in a while she
would ask him if he heard any music.
"An innocent little thing like him hears
quicker than a hard unbelievin' old
woman like me , " she told his mother
once.
She lived BO for nearly a year after
her sister died. It was evident thtit she
had failed gradually and surely , though
there was no apparent disease. It
seemed to trouble her exceedingly that
she never heard theynusic she listened
for. She had an idea that she could not
die unless she did. and her whole eoul
seemed filled with longing to join her
beloved twin sister , and be assured of
her forgiveness. This sister-love was
11 abe had ever felt , besides her love of
God , in any-strong degree ; all the pas
sion of devotion of which this homely ,
common-place woman was capable was
centered in that , and the unsatisfied
strength of it was killing her. The
' weaker she grew the more earnestly
she listened. She was too feeble to eit
up , but she would not consent to lie in
bed ; and made them bolster her up with
pillows in a , rocking chair by the win
dow. At last she died , in the spring ,
a week or two before her sister hud the
year before. The season was a little
more advanced this year , and the apyle
trees were blossomed out further than
they were then. She died about , 10
o'clock in the morning. The day be
fore her niooe had been called into the
room by a shrill cry of rapture from
her : "I've heard it ! I've heard it ! "
she cried : "A faint sound o' music ,
like the dyin' away of a bell ! " ,
"Big Game" in India.
Hunters who wish to bag"biggame"
should lose no time in visiting the un
happy hunting grounds that are situat
ed among the jungles of the Madras
Presidency'India. Hunting , .which is
a pastime in most countries , is a neces
sary occupation , if not a duty , in this
"neck of woods. " If the human in
habitants should not keep up an active
war against the ferocious animals , the
latter would goon extuminate the form
er. A conbtant warfare for the suprem
acy is going on. The official reports
show that during last year wild beasts
killed 1,195 persons , while human be
ings killed 2,055 uangerous wild beasts.
Among the dangerous wild beasts
killed were five ferocious elephants.
This was not a large number , but it
must be kept in mind that one elephant
can do a great amount of damage. He ,
goes through a country spreading deso
lation like a tornado , uproots trees , ov
erturns houses , demolishes carriages ,
and kills domesticated animals and
men. Each of the elephants slain last
season had "killed his man. " Among
the animals killed were 278 tigers , 1,300
panthers and leopards , 213 bears and
M wolves. No less than 920 huge ser
pents were also slain. These monsters
tiad killed 206 human beings. Bears are
credited with killing 11 , and panthers
26. The tiger is held in the greatest
terror. It is far more dangerous than
Lhe lion. It is the impersonation of
hunger , cruelty and cunning. Its ap
petite appears never to be fully eatis-
Sed. In early life it devours the help
less young of other wild animals. As
1 becomes larger and stronger it at-
-acks full-grown donieBlicated animals.
Finally it gets sufficiently bold to pur-
me men. It lurka * by the wayside or
idar wells and springs , ready to leap
ipon the traveler or the water-seeker.
Leopards and panthers are dangerous
mough , but are less t'estructive of hunan -
nan life than tigers.
The character of the wild animals of
i country exerts a most powerful in-
luence on the settlement and the pros-
jority of its inhabitants. In this re-
ipect the territory occupied by the Uu-
ted States was most remarkable. In
he opinion of an eminent naturalist , it
iontained no wild animal that was not
> f more benefit than disadvantage to
ho settlers. It alound d in fur-bcar-
ng animals , whoso skins were in dc-
uand in all the great centers of wealth
ind civilization. These skins confati-
uted a source of wealth to the early
ettlers. Hunting and trapping were
irolUablo employments when people
; ould not engage in fanning. Some of
he skina were converted into garments
, nd othera into money. The skins of
mffalos were made into garments , eni-
iloyed as coverings- beds , or used
s protection in sleighs. Moose , deer ,
ntelope and bears furnished meat un-
il domesticated animals could be intro-
nced and raised in sufficient numbers
3 supply the people with food. Their
it and hides were useful for a great
ariety ol purposes. Rabbits , squir-
ela , ground-hoge , opossums and 'coons
Iso furnished valuable moat and skins ,
'oxos and bears did seine damage , but
rere useful in keeping in check many
f the small animals that rank as ver-
lin. They were easily caught iu traps
r killed by the use of fire-arms , and
icir skins were very valuable iind
rought a high price at a time when
gricultural products raised at a dis-
ince from water communication could
ot bo eold for nionev or exchanged for
rticles of food and"clothing. . All the
ativo animals of thia country are of
isy extermination. Most-of them dis-
ppear before the march of civilization ,
! id only stay as long as they are want-
1 by -inhabitants. . The Hindoos
tight load happier and , ' less exciting
ves if their game wero'as valuable and
little troublesome.
How many creditors mia their "dues
hon nature's debt is paid ?
The Italian Soldier.
nrton Dftlir W nr , . _ _
The Italian soldier , as a rule , is short
and spare built , and his general ap
pearance conveys the impression of "a - *
not over robusttphysique. Bailee him
marching , and it soon becomes appar
ent "tKat he possesses1 more.48tamina
than one would"give him credit for
How nnmurmuringly he trndges for'
hours at a time along a dusty road un- a
der a hot sun with his heavy knapsack Ig
on his back and his rifle slung across
his shoulder. And our surprise is in
creased when wo find'what meagre ra
tions he has totmsluin him .under all his
toil. .
, * t * * . - , '
His chief meal consists of soup made
with lard , meat and macaroni or some
other kind of paste. His mess is pre
pared in large caldrons , round which at
a given signal the men gather , each
with a tin can , into which is poured a
not -very abundant e-ipply of soup and
an almost invisible lump of moat. In >
setting out on a long march the soldier
drinks the soup and keeps the meat to
'
cut on the road. Besidc's this he gets
coffee without milk in the morning and
about two pounds of bread to List him
throughout the day. A tumbler of
wine is served out to him on an average
every third or fourth day in the year.
If his food is-Spartan in its. simplici
ty his dress is equally exempted from
the charge of luxury. A loose coat of
coarse grayish blue cloth covers the in
fantry soldier from neck to knee. His
trousers arc of the same material , but .
when marching the latter arc exchang
ed for canvas trousers , and when working - ,
ing in camp a canvas tunic is donned <
instead \ > i the coat. His headgear is a * I
kepi , very like that in use in the V
French army. ( "
The uniform of the Bersaglieri ia
somewhat more "expressed in fancy. * '
This arm consists of picked men ; in
deed , only strong fellows could march at
the rapid pace tney are trained to. Oth
erwise their drill is much the same as
that of the ordinary infantry regiments.
They wear u block tunic with red fac
ings , and black , broad-brimmed hot ,
with a bunch of green feathers stuck atone
ono side. They are armed like the in
fantry , with Wetterly rifles. The cav
alry and artillery are comparatively
weaker arms than the infantry. The
former poorly mounted , and the guns
and train of the latter are below par. y-
The cavalry are divided into heavy
cavalry or dragoons , lancers and liglTt
cavalry. The dragoons are easily dis
tinguished by their helmets. Both they
and the lancers are armed with lance
and ( Witterly ) musket. The light cav
alry , or Cavallegieri , have revolver *
instead of Inncos. Singularly enough ,
the cavalry have their swords and mus
kets fastened to the baddies , so that if
unhorsed they are defenseless. I have
already remarked that the physique of
the men is better than outward appear
ances would denote.
As regards f heir general disposition ,
I may remark that they are docile ,
obedient to their superiors , well behaved - /
haved , cheerful and laboripus. In times '
of danger and disaster , as during the
cholera of 1867 , the inundations ot last
year , and on the occasion of the recent
earthquake at Ischia , they work with
an ardor and eelf-devotion which is
gratefully recognized by their fellow-
citizens.
Tbty lack , hoAvever , the emartnesa
both in dress and drill , and the martial
bearing of English or German soldiers.
The former and less important de
ficiency is the natural ou-.comc of
Italy's endeavors to maintain a larger
army than she can afford properly to
equip. The inferiority of the drill ia
doubtless chiefly due to the shorluessbf
the time of service ( thirty months ) an
che scarcity of sergeants in the army.
i
Entertaining a Guest. >
Phlladelpliln. Ca-1.
" 1 can't
altogether like this young
man Miiiken who comes to see you so
sftea. I hear that
he is nothing but a
ooor dry goods clerk , " is what the head
sf the family said to his daughter one
lay at the dinner-table.
'He is a very nice young gentleman , "
eplied the daughter , " "besides , he is
something more than a 'poor dry goods
jlerk. ' He gets a large salary and is
nanager of ono of-the departments , and
jxpects some day to have an interest in
; he business. "
"I hope he may , " responded the old
nn , "but he strikes ine as a very flip-
> ant , impertinent young peison , and
n my opinion he should be sat down
IPOU. " , .
"Well , I have invited him to take tea .y
vith us this evening , " said the dau < * her -
er , "and I hope you will treat him
jolitely at least. You will find him a
ery different person from what you
upposc him to be. "
"Oh , I'll treat him politely enough , "
ic said.
That evening Mr. Milliken appeared
.t supper and made a most favorable
repression upon the old gentleman.
'He is a clever young fellow , after all , "
le thought. " 1 have
done him an in- ?
usticc. "
It was just here that Bobby spoke out.
Jobby was n well-meaning little boy ,
ut too talkative.
"Papa , " he ventured , "you know
rhat you eaid to-day- dinner abdut
Ir. Milliken ; that he was an imperti- i *
ent young mau and ought to be sat >
own " '
upon -
"Silence , sir ! " shouted the father ,
wallowing a mouthful of hot potato.
But the little boy wouldn't silence.
It's all right , " he continued , confiden-
ally , but in a whisper to be heard loud
nough to be heard out of doors , "ha
as oeeu sat down upon. Sister sat
own on him-lost night for two hours. " '
After this the dinner went on mora
uietly , owing to Bobby's sudden and
cry jerky departure. t
The farmer's J bewt friend -Eliza
lizuwho ? Fertilizer.
