. r
Good Cheer.
-A. bevy of fair -
- girls theywere ,
And all exceeding busy ;
3Iaud sewed upon a crazy quil'c ,
And so did Jess and Lizzy ;
While Jenny painted on a fan
Some charming cherub faces ,
AndJSell aud Bell right skillfully
Wovoyards of pretty laces.
IButJPeg , in-wicker chair bedecked
With .ribbons , gently rocking ,
Uarned foot drawn on her little Imtid-
'SCha toe oilier silk stocking ,
Her dainty , black silk stocking.
O , ernch a picture as she made ,
Thn goldeu sunbeams glancing
"
"Upon ier head , as , to and fro ,
She swayed with grace entrancing ,
" fer lovely brows were slightly bent ,
JEer Tips closed rather tightly ;
-Quesaw atonco her task was not
- - A task to think of lightly.
ITith care sho drew tho fine thread
through ,
Thestitches interlocking ,
And with her needle pierced my heart
While darning that silk stocking ,
That dainty , black silk stocking.
ilAHGAKET ElTtNGE.
. TEE IEXFORD SOA1SDAL
Prom San Prancisco Argonaut.
Society in Lexford was agitated to
its foundations. Parties were formed ,
sides were taken , discussions and con
ferences were held , and so high was the
well-bred interest manifested by the
partisans that even vague rumors of
the agitation were allowed to filter
through the neighboring towns of Carl-
ton , Oldburg , and Summerfield ; this
albeit , much to the discomfort of Lex-
ford's patrician dames , who had so
long held high their heads above the
level of neighboring respectability.
Sad , indeed , it was for them for , for
the first time since the dark age when
the Puritans smote the savages and
I scourged them from their lands that a
town might be erected to the fear of
God and the persecution of Quaker ,
papist , and pagan , a scandal had
arisen , and was assumingsuch propor
tions as to endanger family unity and
the peace of the community.
Now , the descendants of the first
settlers of Lexford had habitually in
termarried for so many generations
that more than half of the townspeo
ple were related to each other , and
cousin was so familiar a term of ad
dress that it might have been fired in
to a crowd in the dark and brought
down the bulk of them. Of all the old
families , the greatest inpoint of num
bers and of ramifications was the
Power family. So much , indeed , had
they multipled and intermarried that
they had even outgrown the corpora
tion limits and spilled over into Carl-
ton , Oldburg , and other surrounding
towns of equal antiquity , but less
aristocracy , as compared with Lex-
ford. This in Lexford was naturally
regarded as loss of caste ; but so an
cient and stainless was the Power es
cutcheon that it was overlooked , save
that the non-resident scions
- were es
teemed in the light of poor relations ,
whom it was a duty to recognize and
entertain , since hard fate had cast
their lots in exile from the ancestral
roof-tree. Judge then of the wild ex
citement which thrilled the communi
ty when a scandal developed itself ,
with aprominent Power as chief actor ,
involving the honor of the entire fami
ly.
Among the most popular and influ
ential residents of Lexford was Mrs.
" Ormiston , a wealthy widow with one
daughter , agirl nineteen , who was an
advanced student of the Concord
School of Philosophy sort. Mrs. Orm-
uston's high standing was something
almost unprecedented , for she was
f-Cnther native to the soil nor was she
related to any ofthe great families ;
but. coming as she did from the best
Boston stock , that fact and her
daughter's intellectuality were held as
compensating for the lacking local
genealogical stamp.
At the head of the male youth of
the family stood George Power , a
handsome bachelor of fifty , who looked
thirty-five , a prosperous merchant in
Boston and a gay cavalier for the fair
sex at home. Ho was a witty , jovial
man , of correct habits and unfailing
good temper , and was regarded by
parents as perfectly safe , especially as
most of thegirls were his cousins , more
or less removed. Even mild flirtation
had been unknown in his career , and
match-making had long since given
him up as possibly useful material. A
scandal , therefore , involving him and
Amelia Ormiston took the town aback
like a rumor of the cholera , or
nihilism , or any other of the un
pleasant realities ofthe _ time , which
were wholesome castigations for the
benighted foreigners , but above "which
Lexford , in New England , was set
high in its righteousness. "Nothing
is sure to happen save the unexpected , "
but the good ladies of the town had
too long believed in their immunity
from social diseases to bring this truth
home to themselves ; their prayers for
deliverance from "plague , pestilence ,
and famine" had been offered only
through a stern sense of duty in vicari
ously aiding in the averting of afflic
tions from the outside world. Not
that a choice bit of gossip was at all
repugnant to them , but it was gastly
that it should not only come home to
their family connections , but , beyond
all , that the subjects of it should
be two of the most irreproachable
persons among them , "whose shin
ing reputations the breath of slan
der ought not to have been able to
tarnish.
The women took the matter to
heart and in hand at once , but all
their efforts to excite the men to par
tisanship were unavailing. They
"didn't care ; " they had other things
to think of. Amelia was "a nice little
girl , " and George was "a good fellow ; "
"it would all come out right , " and , in
t , they would have nothing to do
with it. The feminine sense of propri-- '
ety , however , required an arbitrary
settlement of the affair.and the excite- '
ment * rose to fever heat as one wom
an after another championed either of
the delinquents , and much bitterness
was manifested. Families were divided
against themselves , daughters oppos
ed mothers , and sisters were at vari
ance.
The social head of the Power family
was Mrs. Sala , known and revered by
her relatives as Aunt Helen. She was
the bosom friend of Mrs. Ormiston ,
and one of the earliest champions of
Amelia , utterly condemning George
before a hearing. She had the very
first knowledge of the scandal , and it
was at her house that the remedies ,
punishments , and atonements were
proposed and. discussed.
Great pains had been taken to pre
serve secrecy , but without availand it
promptly became the subject of dis
cussion whenever the women of the
family foregathered.
It had long been the custom to at
tend a sort of informal social reunion
at Aunt Helen's on Friday evenings ,
every week a select assortment being
invited to tea , and more cominginthe
evening for music , parlor theatricals ,
charades , conversation , billiards ,
cards , etcetera. Thither went invari
ably Mrs. Ormiston and Amelia , like
wise George Power ; and after the ad
vent of the scoTndal it was amusing to
an outsider to watch the pronounced
way in which Mrs. Ormiston ignored
George's existence , and the persistence
with which he and Amelia sought each
other's society before her very face.
One afternoon a number of the
ladies happened to meet at Aunt
Helen's , and found her in a state of
tearful excitement over a new develop
ment in the case.
'My dears , " she said , as she care
fully blew some imaginary dust off of
the library table , "what we are to do
about George I really don't know. He
has actually had Amelia to lunch
again in Boston. "
"Well , what ot that ? " remarked
Isabel Warburton. "Surely he can be
polite to her. "
"Isabel , when you are olderyou will
understand. A young girl , as you
are , lacks experience o : the world to
judge of such things. "
"I only wish he world invite me to
lunch. I should feel like embracing
him as well as the opportunity. "
"That would be very different , Isa
bel ; you are his cousin , and then , too ,
there would be no impropriety in his
politeness to you. "
"My daughter , " lemqnstrates mild
Mrs. Warburton , "I wi h you would
not speak like that , about embracing
George. Suppose some stranger
should overhear you ; they would not
know that he was your cousin , and
what Avould they think of you ? "
"Now , mother , how could a stranger
overhear me here in Aunt Helen's li
brary ? "
"Isabel , you should always so order
your remarks that any "one might
overhear them. "
"Dear me , dear me , " pursues Aunt
Helen ; "to think that this should come
upon us now , after centuries of spot
less family record. I think I shall ask
Dr. Jackson" ( the family's clergyman )
"to see George and reason with him.
Religious authority must have some
weight with him. "
"Doctor fiddlesticks ! " exclaims
George's sister , Louise , a girlish maid
en of fortyI : should call"that an im
pertinent intrusion which George
would very properly resent. What
lias George dons that any minister
should stick his nose into his affairs ?
He had better go and do his reasoning
with that girl. "
"Louise , " said Aunt Helen , "you
'orget that Amelia is a simple , confid
ing girl , whose only fault is in listen
ing to the temptation of an accom
plished and attractive man of the
ivorld , the danger of which she could
not be expected to know. "
"And Aunt Helen , you forget that
my brother George is a man who has
lever in his life been accused of a dis-
lonorable action till now , and that
lis only fault is in allowing himself to
je entangled by an artful girl , who , I
jelieve , knows very well what she is
about. "
"Let us hope that it is not so bad
as it seems , " says Mrs. Warburton ,
whose charitable heart would have
bund an excuse for Cain himself.
"Amen , " ejaculated Isabel. "And
now , mother , I shall take you home
before you get corrupted into forming
an opinion. "
Mrs. Sala rises , saying : "At any rate
[ shall have another serious talk with
Seorge , and remonstrate with him on
; he way he is compromising the fami-
y , and the harm he is doing Amelia. "
"And I , " says Louise , "shallremon
strate with him on allowing himself to
be compromised by a designing minx. "
Thus matters stood when Jack
Warburton arrived at home for a visit
after ten years of roving absence.
Jack was a sort of anomaly in the
family , being the ' only one of his gene
ration who h'ad left the .ancestral
heath in order to shift for himself in
strange lands. Born with a restless
spirit of adventure , his relations had
looked upon him rather dubiously ,
as though fearful that he might be a
changeling , and some of them lived in a
state of apperhension lest he should
brine disgrace or sorrow upon the
family , it was so unnatural that one
of them shouldgo wandering about the
world like any vagabond , associating
with ail sorts of strangers who could
not but corrupt him. They were all
fully imbued with the New England
creed , that all who live outside the
limits of that section are foreigners ,
and all foreigners barbarians , more or
less , who may be cautiously pitied and
must be suspiciously doubted. Every
time that Jack came home , turning up
smiling from Mexico or Alaska , Mani
toba or California , he was lionized as
a sort of hero , who had braved hard
ship and danger by flood and field.and
at fast returned to rest on his laurels
and pursue the acquisition of grand
children to whom he might tell his
strange adventures , and be to them a
sort of glorified .combination of his
tory and geography in a convenient
form for reference. Jack , though , per
versely and persistently refused to
take that view of the matter. Oneach
visit , when greeted with , "Oh , Jack ,
have you really come home to live at
last ? " he would respond with an ear
nest denial , so'empathic as to be al
most offensive. It any one suspected
that he preferred the broad world to
the narrow New England life , they
simply shuddered at the thought and
refuse'd to give it credence.
This absence of ten years had been
Jack's longest , and the quiet of his
home seemed to him restful and sopor
ific after so long a struggle with ranch
ing , mining , and other laborious pur
suit ? peculiar to wild and far-away re
gions. Civilization was pleasant to
him as a recreation , and he fairly en
joyed his fears of outraging the poo-
prietles by stepping out too boldly or
talking too wildly for the home con
ventionalities. He found his sister
grown into a young woman , and his
brothers married , and ho set himself
to work to make the acquaintance of
the to him new members of the
amSly circle.
Now , when the Prodigal Son "was
yet a great way off , his father saw
him , and had compassion , and ran
and fell on his neck and kissed him , "
and said to the servents , "Bring forth
the best robe and put it on him , and
put a rin on his hand , and shoes on
his feet ; and bring hither the fatted
calf and kill it , and let us eat , drink ,
and bemerry. " Thisyasmuch Jack's
case , for even his sister-in-law fell
down and worshiped him ; but he was
a modest fellow withal , and he knew
himself too well to attribute all this
adulation to anything but the joy of
seeing him once more alive , clothed ,
and in his right mind. His principal
iault was a disposition to chaff unmer
cifully his female relations , but this he
did so mildly and good naturedly that
they could not take offense. One of
his favorite methods was to take se
riously anything they might say , and
act upon it accordingly , until they
were in a continuoiib state of terror
as the cpnsequences of his frank ac
tion.
Of course , Jack had not been longin
the bosom of the family before he be
came aware of the scandal which was
worrying away their good temper and
peace of mind , and he inquired into
its details , but his mother and sister ,
forearmed against his rash disposition
to take hold of and arrange matters ,
positively refused to enlighten him.
"Very "well , " Desponded Mr. Jack :
"I shall have a serious talk with
George about it. "
"You sh.-jll do no such thing. If you
do , I Avill never speak to you again. "
"But , my dear sister , I feel it to be
my duty as a family representative to
regulate this' matter , which seems to
be too much for any of you. "
"My son , " said Mrs. Warburton ,
"I shall be seriously annoyed if you
meddle in this affair , and I forbid you
to do so. "
"Very well , mother , your will is law ;
but I really think I ought to. You
eee , I have had experience in such
matters. "
"Why , John , how could you ? " .
"Oh , a man shot at me once for re
monstrating with him for beating his
wife. "
'Shot at you ! Oh , Jack ; And. what
was done to the man ? "
"The vigilantes escorted him out of
town the next , morning with instruc
tions never to show his face in the
camp again. And the iool woman
meekly followed the brute. It was in
a little mining camp in southern
Utah. "
Jack pondered over the great scan
dal for some days. He grew grave
and thoughtful , seemed preoccupied ,
and commenced taking long , solitary
walks. He cultivated Miss Ormiston's
society assiduously , and interested
her much , his roving experience hav
ing endowed him with an inexhausti
ble fund of anecdote , a manly vigor
ous mannerand a deferential attitude
toward women , born of long periods
of absence from civilization. He was
a polished man of the world , as much
at ease in evening dress at a decorous
dinner as in a flannel shirt in a fron
tier bar-room.
One bright , cold afternoon , towards
the end of the winter , Jack wandered
up onto the Hill to see the sunset. He
leaned on the rail of the bridge which
spans the railway cut , thoughtfully
smoking a cigar , and watching the dull
glare of the descending sun as it set
tled behind a bank of clouds , spread
ing a glow of slowly changing , iading
color , rifted A\ith cloud-splinters ,
beautiful beyond man's imagination.
His thoughts Were in a far-away land.
The refraction curiously distorted the
sun till it took the form of a Mexican
olla , carrying his memory back to an
evening when , in the Sierra Madre , be
set by Qe Apaches , he watched thede-
clining sun shedding its glory over the
close of what he expected was his last
day on earth.
As he mused over1 the past , he was
aroused by a footstep crunching the
crisp snow ; and , looking up , he saw
Miss Ormiston slowly approaching
him with downcast eyes and troubled
face. She did not see him until he ac
costed her , when she started , with
tears trembling on her eyelashes , ex
claiming : "Why , Jack Mr. Warbur
ton ! "
"Miss Ormiston , you are in trouble.
How can I help you ? ' '
"No ; it is nothing. "
"But it is something. Teii me about
it , my child. "
"Perhaps I can ; we will see. "
"I don't think I ought to tell you ,
but I think you understand me a
little. Mother has been finding fault
with me again. She was hasty to me
without any good rsason , and I got
angry , so I came for a walk to cool
my temper. "
"That is not very portentous. Is
your mother much given to that sort
of thing ? "
"No ; she was always good to me
until all this horrid business came
up. "
"What horrid business ? "
"About about Mr. Power. "
"So-o ! Tell me about it , Miss Or-
miston. You know I know nothing
of the affair. "
"It was nothing at all at first. It
was just this way : Mother went away
this winter for a few days , to visit my
married sister , who was ill , leaving
aia alone in the house with the eer-
vants. One afternoon I had been
making a call , and was hurrying home
as it was getting dark , when Mr. Power
joined me and walked home with me
1 knew that we were both going to
Mrs. Sala's that evening , and I askec
him in to tea , and we could go there
together afterward. I was glad of his
company , too , for it was horrible lone
some without mother. So he took
tea with me , and that was all. "
"But I don't quite see"
"Well , you know , when motnercame
home and heard about it , she made
an awful'row. She called Mr. Power
a libertine ; said that no gentleman
would compromise a girl likethatanc
told me that it was improper in me to
have invited him. Now , I don't care
Mr. Power is a gentleman , and ]
liked him ; that is you know he is a
pleasant acquaintance. Mother for
bade me to speak to him again , anc
went to Mrs. Sala and tried to get her
to stop his coming there ; but she
couldn't just do that , could she , be
cause ho is a nephew ? Then
when I happened to meet Mr. Power in
Boston , 1 knew I had done nothing
wrongand when he asked me to go to
Williams & Everett's with him to see
a new picture , I \ \ cut ; aud afterward
we went one clay to a symphony con
cert , and one day to lunch , and as
long as they keep nagging me , I shall
keep it up , though I guess he's as sick
of it as I am. And they make me so
miserable that , if they don't stop it ,
think I shall run away. " And as the
tears filled her eyes , she put her head
down on the bridge-rail and wept.
Jack only glared before him , ex
claiming : "Well , of all the unsancti-
iied , lack-witted brutes ! And they
have made all this fuss for that ! And
Aunt Helen , too ! She must be losing
her sense ! Then he flung the con
temptuous look out of his eyes , lit a
fresh cigar , and waited quietly until
Amelia had recovered herself. Finally
she turned to him with a shy , apolo
getic look , and stammered something
about goinghome. Jack stopped her ,
though , and for some moments look
ed earnestly straight into her eyes un
til she lowered them hesitatingly.
When he spoke , there was an indefin
able change in his voice which made
it curiously s\\eet.
"Amelia , my child , 1 think that this
has gone quite far enough. I am go
ing to stop it now. Will you put
yourself into mv hands implicitlyand
do what I tell you ? "
With a grateful look , she silently
placed her hand in his. lie drew it
through his arm , and they turned to
go through the gathering dusk.
As they moved away he bent his
head , and in a low voice said some
thing which caused her to start vio-
Jently ; and exclaim , "Oh , Jack ! " with
an intonation of astpnishmentjbut not
of offense. He retained her arm , and
continued talking earnestly with her.
As he left her at her mother's door , he
said :
"Then you will meet meat Williams
& Everett's to-morrow , at one
o'clock ? "
"Yes , Jack , " obediently. f
Next moining Jack was early in
Boston , completing his arrangements.
He met Amelia at one oclock , as ap
pointed , and later in the afternoon
they went out home together. That
evening they met at Mrs. Sala's , it be
ing the weekly reception evening.
Soon after arrival , Jack noticed that
George Poer and Mrs. Ormiston were
sitting near each other , so he drew
Amelia into the library. Leaving her
there , he went to George , and said :
"George , old man , Amelia , wants to
see you in thelibrary. " Georgeimme-
diately rose to go there , and Mrs Or
miston followed , her rage gathering as
she went. They all three arrived there
simultaneously , and Mrs Ormiston
exclaimed :
'Amelia , I forbid you to speak to
that man ! "
"Wait a bit , Mrs. Ormiston , " said
Jack ; "I have something to say about
that. "
"What do you mean , sir ? " she ask
ed , with a haughty stare.
"Simply that your daughter was
married to me this afternoon. "
"Amelia , " said her mother , "is this
true ? "
"Yes , mother , " she replied , flushed
with happiness , and clinging fondly to
Jack's arm.
Then you are no longer daughter of
mine , you wicked girl ! And you sir , "
turning to Jack , "you have enticed a
simple girl into a pauper marriage
with a"
"Stop a little , Mrs. Ormiston , " said
Jack coolly ; "there seems to be a lic-
tle misapprehension on your part. I
don't think you can object to me on
the score of fcamily. My character will
stand investigation , and I am worth
half a milliondollars. "
"Well , I never" but by the time the
others had all g.ojbhered there , and
amid the exclamations of surprise and
the noisy congratulations , among
which George was foremost , she had
time to collect herself , and , by the
time that all was quiet again , sho
looked quite complacent.
Jack and Amelia now live luxurious
ly at their country-seat near San Fran
cisco , and Mrs. Ormiston holds her
head high in the social world of Lex-
ford. She frequently refers with pride
to her son-in-lavv , and says that she
knows that he is most anxious that
she should live with them , but she is
afraid that she could not stand the
California climate.
Scranton Bepublican : Our educa
tional laws are going too far. The pub
lic sentiment is being outraged. Branch
es of study are being introduced in
to the school curricula that are shock
ing themodesty of the ordinarily
sensitive. One mother in Wilkesbarre ,
who discovered that her daugter was
being taught pysiology and hygiene ,
addressed the following note to her
teacher :
Dear Miss : I don't want my
daughter to be taught about her in-
sides. It isn't right'and Idon'tlikeit.
Yours truly. MRS.
That ought to settle the matter.
Physiology and hygiene must go.
The faculty of Williams college ,
Mass. , have abolished annual exami-
natiousand * the students are happy.
As to Backbiters and Talc-
bearers.
Let a rule be here laid down which
ought never , under any circumstances
to be departed from :
Never listen to one who proposes to
tell you something a friend has said
to your prejudice , you pledging your
self never to speak to your friend on
the matter. Here you have come
across the basest and most cawardly
of all backbiters and mischief mrkers ;
likewise the vulgarest. Your course
here is plain. Say to the cowardly
talebearer , "I warn you that if you
say one word , I shall go straight and
tell my friend that you told me this
story , and see if it is true. " Dr. Cal-
mer's mother always met any spite
ful tattle with words to this effect.
It was pleasing to see how the mis
chief-maker hastened to back out ol
the story. And the mischief-maker
did not come back t'o Mrs. Chalmers
a second time , unless a greater fool
than common.
A little organization has gone on
smoothly lor years , its members
trusting one another aud working
harmoniously together. But in an
evil hour the mischief-maker is admit
ted to that small society. Soon there
is suspicion and drawing off ; possibly
the thing blows up. Each has been
secretly poisoned. No doubb each
ought to have cut the mischief making
short. But not all had the wisdom
and firmness to do so.
You remember , I doubt not , how
the mischief maker once offered , "from
a sense of duty , " to relate to you
circumstances which tended to make
you doubt your besc friend. He
wished to caution you. " You cut
him short finally. But what if that
whisper had got hold of you ? Of
course you would have asked your
friend about it , and things would have
been cleared up. But some folks
dread a scene and avoid it. And such
leave a painful impression. The repe
tition of them ends in alienation.
One has known human beings much
perplexed to know why , after being
made a great deal too much of in cer
tain places , they were suddenly
dropped. A modest man would say :
"Because I made a bad impression ; I
disappointed people. " Years after it
came out that it all came of the skill
ful misrepresentations and innuendoes
of a clever and ( in the main ) good
man. But he could not bear to see
your promotion. The frantic tenacity
with which some men keep hold of
some trumpery privilege is even ex
ceeded by their frantic terror lest any
neighbor should get hold of it too.
When falshoods are systematically
told by a man ( not designed to keep a
neighbor back or down } , his purpose
generally is to make himself of
consequence. He is influential ; hold
ing strings in his hand ; play
ing off one against another. Privately
tell A that B abused him ; privately
tell B that A abused him. If they be
vulgar souls they will listen to you.
And no doubt you are a sneaking tale-
jearer ; yet you have a certain influ
ence which possibly you could get in
no other pay.
When falsehoods are systematically
; old by woman ; if oldshe is spiteful.
She wants give pain and make mis
chief. If mindle-aged , things are not
so bad. Her main desire is tobetalk-
ng about herself. She is always the
leorine of her fibs. And she would
talk of herself forever. She would
rather tell evil of herself than tell
nothing. Hence the attraction ot
many women of the irregular confes
sional of some Angelican churches. It
s a great opportunity for a woman to
: alk at much length about herself.
Jongman's Magazine.
"Decay of the Bank-Burglar.
"There are many men in New York
city who could formerly boast of a
peculiar distinction , that are now
designated in police circles as members
of the 'Order ot Lost Nerves , ' " said
Detective Billy Pinkerton. "They
were once the flowers of the profession
of crooks , but long terms of imprison
ment took the sand all out of them. "
"What is the real cause of the de
pression in the bank-burgling indus
try ? "
"The of the
decay bank-burglar ,
chiefly , though the improvements in
safes may have had some influence. [
Still , mechanical safeguards would not
be so effective as they seem to be if the
bank-robbsirs of had the
- to-day inge
nuity of those of former times. But ;
now you can count on your finger
nails all the first-class burglars of that
rade who are not dead , in prison for
long terms , or nerveless because of
long imprisonment. There are just
as many burglars as ever , but the ;
genius of the profession appears to ;
have died out. There are no such
men as Scott and Dunlap , the North >
ampton bank-robbers ; Joe Howard , ;
Hope , and Brady , and Johnny Dobbs.
Of these , Scott is dead , Dunlap is
serving a long sentence in Massachu
setts , and so is Dobbs ; ourpeoplecon-
I'icted Joe Howard in Coldwater , .
Mich. ; Brady is doing seventeen years
in New York ; Hope is in San Quentin
tor an attempted robbery in San
Francisco ; big Frank McCoy is a race- >
brack 'tout' and a 'bum' in New York ,
and so tho record could be filled up for
pages. "
"Do you anticipate a revival of
higher grades of burglary ? "
"No ; it will never occur. The rising
generation of thieves is destitute of
bhe intelligence necessary to make the i
sxact plans and the close calculations >
without which it is foolish to attempt '
bo rob a bank. They are naturally
and professionally of a grade too low
for the business. Then they get no en
couragement from the old-timers who
are living out of prison. Such men ,
after serving long terms , have no
heart for stealing. The best proof of
bhe fact that bank-burglars no longer
jxercise much influence on the fears
of capitalists is to be found in the fact
bhat our agency has been for some >
bime arranging for the employment of .
its operatives in other fields. So far
as the bank burglars are concerned ,
bhere is , practically , nothing for us to
3o , and as the race is rapidly becom
ing extinct this feature of our business
promises to disappear entirely before
long. " Chicago News.
General Husted's Use of tfie Gav
el. " * 1
"I make no secret of acknowledging V
just where I learned to use the gavel , "
General Husted went on to say. "Ifc
was in the Masonic lodge. I divulpo
no unrevealed mystery of the Order ,
when I say that the gavel is nowhere
so supreme as in the Grand Lodge
It is supremacy itself. To it the dele
gates bend as quickly as privates in a
great army , as the members of every
parliamentary or deliberate boqy
should. I remember an incident in
my career at Albany which is timely
iiere. It is customary when the exi
gencies of businesses in the case of the
election of Regents of the University
of the State of New York , or United
States Senators , call the Senate and
Assembly into joint session , for tho
lower to receive the upper house in its
chamber. The courtesies and cus
toms of these sessions demand
that on the entrance of the Sen
ate the Assembly shall rise. On sev
eral occasions before I first became
speaker of the assembly , I had wit
nessed these ceremonies. I recalled
the fact that in each case tho speaker ,
when the senate was at the door , re
quested the assembly to rise. To my
notion this was exceedingly undignified
and reflected on the department of the
assembly , who ought to know its duty
as well as its presiding officer. Think
how a gentleman , would feel walking
into a drawing room to be told that
he must not spit on the floor. I re
solved that if I ever became speaker ,
and I am free to confess I had no doubb
of it , things would be differently done.
During my first term a joint session
became necessary. The looked-for
opportunity was at hand. On the
day fixed andat the hour the sergeant-
at-arms announced the arrival of tho
senate in the'usual form. Dur
ing the pause which followed I
raised my gavel and looking afc
the house brought it down three
times in succession. The nextmomenfc
seventy-five men were on their feet and
naturally those who did not respond
at once arose by inspiration. Asuiglo
blow later on , when the Senate was re
ceived , brought the whole assemblage
to a sitting posture. After adjourn
ment an ex-speaker came to me to find
out how it happened that the As
sembly arose without the usual re
quest. 'Lasked the members to rise , '
'
I said. 'No , ' my inquisitive predeces-
sor said , 'you didn't , for not a word
was said. ' 'But , ' I added , 'I made the
usual request with my gavel. You
heard the three blows ? ' 'Is that a
Masonic sign ? ' he asked curiously. 'I
did not say so , ' was my response. Tho
cavel at any rate had done the talk
ing. " "His Majesty Myself" in tho
Syracuse Herald.
French Novels.
Vernon Lee in Contemporary Review.
I tell you frankly that I can scarce
ly think of a dozen modern French
novels in which I should not like to cut
out whole passages , sometimes whole
chapters , from Balzac to Daudet.
Let me explain myself , and recapitu
late what I consider the sins of the
modern French novels. One of these
fortunately rare , but gaining gtound
every day , can be dismissed at once ; I
mean the allusion to particular kinds
of evil which are so exceptional and ab
normal that any practical advantage
derivable from knowledge of them ,
must inevitably be utterly outweighed
by the disadvantage of introducing
into the mind vague and diseased sus
picions. The other principal sins of
modern French novelists are , to my
mind , first , the presentation of re
markable evil without any comment
on the part of the author , or without
my presentation of remarkable good
to counterbalance , by its moral and
Ksthetical stimulus , the enervating ef
fects of familiarity with evil. The
sight of evil is not merely necessary if
jvil is to diminish ; it is wholesome if
it awakens indignation ; it is good for
as to maintain our power of taking
jxception , of protesting , of hating ; it
is good for us , in moral matters to
iave the instinct of battle. But this
becomes impossible if evil is represent
ed as the sole occupant of this earth ,
n that case we no longer have any
3ne to fight for , and we run the risk
jfforgetting how to fight for on. elves.
5omuchfor _ the demoralizing effects of
he pessimistic misrepresentation or ,
it all events , the representation of an
unfairly specimen of life. It distinct-
y diminishes our energies for good.
Hie other and I
, decidely think even
vorse , great sin of French novelists is
heir habit of describing the physical
ides of love , or of what people call
ove , whether it be socially legitmato
r socially illegitmate. Such descrip- 1
ions are absolutely unnecessary for
he psychological completeness of
heir work , since they drag the mind
ind the intellectual
emotions into re-
lions below their cognizance , and cram
.hem with impressions they can never
ligest , which remain as a mere foul
iinsance ; besides by stimulating in-
itmcts which require not stimulation ,
ut repression , they entirely betray
he mission of all intellectual work
i-hich is , to develop the higher sides
f our nature , at the expense of the
ower. There is not a single descrip-
ion of this kind which might not
nost advantageously be struck out ,
md I could ha-ve gone on my knees to
laubert to supplicate him to sup-
ress whole passages 'and pages of
'Mme. Bovary , " which I consider a
nost moral and useful novel.
A scrupulous village physician was
he hero of a curious little scene in an
English court of petty sessions the
ither day. He appeared as a witness
iut declined to take an oath on the
round "that it was a very serious
hing to kiss a book that was handled
all kinds of . "
y people. After some
.rgument the doctor offered , by way
i compromise , to kiss the book if a
lean sheet of paper were placed over
he cover. This the bench declined to
ccede to , nor would it allow the doc-
or to make an affirmation , and even-
nally he consented , under ptotest , to
run the risk of catching disease. "
