p-7
BEYOND THESE TEARS ,
B ? 3I11S. JUJfXIE A. .MOXTrOUT.
Beyond tlujsc dreams and tears
Beyond tho-cc hopes and fear--
Beyond these weary years
There waits for thee
A home , so wondrous fair ,
So sweet , so pure , the air
Breathes anthems everywhere
Iii harmony.
Angelic creatures move ,
Through every balmy grove
"Whose constant theme fs love
In rapture sutig ;
And on their harps ib wrought
Those strains divinely taught ;
And every rythm caught
On roses hung.
Till even" pulse was filled
With their sweetbreath , distilled
Tor tender chords that thrilled
'Xeath touches low.
Where limpid streams pursue
Enchanted bowers through ;
And myriad drops of dew
Kespleudent glow. '
Where tranquil skies repose
O'er every stream that lions ,
Whose crystal bc-auty throws
A light sublime.
No tongue can e'er possess
The gift towf contess
The inatchlcss'loveliness
Of that fair clime.
Oh , spirit , why shoulds't thou
Bemoan and murmur now ?
Is't not cnouirli to know
Beyond these tears ,
When earthly scenes have past
With all the'gloom they cast ,
There thou shalt rest at last
Through endless years ?
SI. Louis
A BIT OF DEIFT.
BY IIESTEU STUART.
"Brutus Cassius Danks ! Are you go
ing after that water or do you expect
the spring to come to 3011 ? "
The man thus pointedly addressed
slid slowly down from the fence where
he was sitting , whittling , closed his
huge jackknife by pressing its point
against the rail , and shambled toward
the house.
The woman in the doorway watched
his leisurely approach with an expres
sion curiously mingled of indifference
and irritation.
A small , stooping figure , with a weak
slope to the chin and shoulders ; the
flaccid face with a fringe of hay-colored
board , and surmounted 133 * a sunburned
straw hat ; the loose , unshapely clothes
which Deemed to have adapted them
selves to the wearer's habit of mind-
was this the pink-cheeked , trim young
fclloxv who courted her fifteen 3'ears
ago ? "
"I was a thinkin' , .Malviny , " he said ,
taking the pail from her outstretched
hand , "that a ketch of fish would taste
kinder good. We've had mush pretty
stiddy latch- . "
"It ain'tfmy fault , " said the woman ,
shortly.
"No ! I s'pose it ain't , " he rejoined
slowl3r , as though the fact occurred to
him for the first lime.
Just then a little tow headed girl ran
round the corner of the house.
"Where are you goin' , daddy ? " she
called.
"Down to the spring. Want to go ,
Capitola ? " he answered.
She looked lovingly at him with her
china-blue eyes , slipped her grimy little
hand into his , and trudged off'beside
him.
him.The
The woman stood on the doorstone
looking after them. "They are well-
mated , " she thought bitterly. "One
has about as much idea of getting a
living as the other. "
She had not lacked warnings years
"
ago ; for Malvina Frost , with her "slim ,
straight figure and snapping black eyes ,
was .the likeliest girl in town ; and
mothers of marriageable sons had not
hesitated to enlarge in her hearing upon
the "Danks shiftlcssness , " reinforcing
their own opinions by sundry old pro
verbs , such as "What's bred in the bone
will come out in the flesh. " and "Like
father , like son. " But Malvina only
tossed her black curls , and went her
own way.
So one June they were married , and
went to houskeeping in a little house
on the bank of the Ohio ; and Melvina ,
in the strength of her youth and love ,
felt able to movo mountains , but she
found the gravitation of inherited shift-
lessness too much for her.
He had done well for a time. The
little cottage was neatly fixed up , and
when a year after the first baby came ,
the young father , with his own hands ,
fashioned for it a cradle that was the
wonder and envy of the neighborhood.
But heredity was too strong for him ,
and though the cradle had six success
ive occupants , its first coat of paint
was never renewed. Mrs. Danks had
never heard of Sisyphus. If she had
she would have found her task very
much like his , vtith the exception that
hers was infinitely harder and more
hopeless.
What was itP Mental or moral or
physical weakness , or all three ? Or
an evil fate , that whatever he turned
Ins hand to immediately failed ? Even
his name seemed an unkind fling of
fortune. His mother having attended ,
shortly before his birth , the nerform-
ance of some strolling actors , was so
much impressed that the name of
Brutus Cassius was waiting for him
when he arrived upon the stage where
he was to play so insignificant a part
It was seldom , however , that he had
the benefit of his full name , for the
community in which he grew up de
lighted in abbreviations. But even
their rough familiarity hesitated to call
a man "Brute" to his face , so he was
dubbed "Cash , " a perpetual satire up a
on him who rarely hail amcash in his
pocket. Against all these odds Mrs.
Danks had fought a good light ; but in
the struggle her straight back had been
bent , and the snap had gone from her
eyes to her voice.
"
"Somehow the load pressed heavier
than ever this morning. It might have
been because it was early spring ,
and the air was full of that indefinable
sense of expectancy , that vague hint of
rejuvenation , a rejuvenation that would
touch everything except the-Danks for
tunes. And perhaps it was because the
Hour barrel was empty , but whatever
the cause , Mrs. Danks turned from the
doorway thoroughly wretched.
Half tin hour later Mr. Danks saun
tered in. with the water , the child fol-
lowing with a string of two or three
fish.
fish.Setting the pail down , he said in a
deprecating wa3 * : "I hev about c'n-
cluded to take up with Badger's ofler ,
and go up to Cooperville. "
. She made no answer , and ho contin
ued : "If anythin' sh'd happen , Icould
come home. "
"Oh , yes ! " she answered , "you could
come home easy enough. "
The man winced , and his sallow face
reddened.
"I don't s'pose I'm a master hand af
gcttin' a livin' , but I tell you Malviny ,
fate is agin me. 'Just as I got a job
across the river that felon come on my
iin er , and when I had a chance on the
bridge , out of twenty men , I was the
only one the derrick hit when it fell.
You didn't ought to be castin' it up
agin me that 1 lied to come home ; it's
fate. "
"Call it 1)3" what name you like , " she
answered bitleity , "it's"made an old
woman of me before 1113 * lime. "
" He made no reply , but went out on
the doorstonc , where the little girl
joined him , and presently his wife heard
him say :
"Daddy's goin' away. Is Capitola
sorry ? "
"Real sony ! " said the child ; adding ,
"What'll you bring me daddy ? "
"Howsh'd ye like astringof beads ? "
he asked , after some deliberation.
"Blue beads ? " cried the child , then
with the unconscious selfishness of
childhood "will 3-011 go right off ? "
Apparently he was hurt , for his voice
quavered as he asked , "Which would
ye ruthcr hev daddy , or the beads ? "
"Oh , 3-011 ! " cried the child , throwing
her arms round his neck and pressing
her little face to his. So the hurt was
healed , and they chattered quietly to
gether till supper time , at which "meal
there appeared five black-eyed boys ,
the pattern of their mother. People
said the Danks blood had taken a turn
in the bo3's for they were as keen ,
tough-limbed , energetic boys as could
be lound in the county.
The following Monday Mr. Danks
started for Cooperville. As he took up
his limp carpet bag , he said , by way of
feeble joke , "Ain't 3-0 sorry to see me
goin' , Malviny ? "
She looked at him a moment , then
said , coldl3"You'll bo back soon
"HOUgll. "
lie straightened himself and said ,
with an air of decision quite unlike
himself , "You'll not see me again un
til my work is finished ; " and so de
parted , followed only by Capitola , who
went to the road with him , and called
after him not to forget the beads.
Mrs. Danks from her washtub
watched him going slowly up the
muddy road , and as she looked her
iieart relented a trifle toward him
; ho weak , kind-hearto.d , exasperating
'ittle man. Hastily taking her hands
'rom the suds , she'took a bottle from
.he . kitchen shelf and went to the door.
"Johnny ! " she called lo the tangle of
303-3 before the door , "your pa's forgot
"
"lis liniment. Run after him with it ,
'or he'll be sure to get a lame back. "
With a parting thrust toward his
brothers , the bo3snatched the bottle
and sped away like a 3'oung athlete ,
chin up and elbows back , as he had seen a
jictures of runners.
When he overtook his father and de- 01
iverod his message , the latter seemed is
really touched. Though indiil'erent ,
apparently , whether his house fell to tle
) ieces or not. he was homesick outside e
lis own gate , and now was going away aai
ore hearted at the evident willin < rne.s ai
aibi
of his family to part with him. The bi
unexpected attention quite overcame 01
him , and he looked around for some tiidi
thing to return in acknowledgment , diw
but the fields were bare. w
Suddenly he spied by the roadside cc
some pussy willows with their silvery. tiai
fuzz3' buds , and cutting off a branch ai
gave it to the bo3' saying. "Give that to
your ma. and tell her she's the best
woman in Meigs County. " ' SCbe
"Law ! " said Mrs. Danks , when the beai
boy burst in with his branch and mes ai
sage'Your pa's getting silly in his aim
old age. 1 don't want such truck in the m
house. " But after the bo3r had gone she in
put it carefully in water and set it on sc
the kitchen shelf , and several times she tli
looked up at it with a look on her face ci
whichIr. ] . Danks would scarcely have in
recognized.
That gentleman's absence made very
little difference with his family excep't
to Capitola. His wife scolded a , little
less , and the boys , who looked upon
him very much as another boy only si
one who liked to sit in the same place stdt
toolong pursued their works and dt [
sports as usual.
ai
But the Thursday after his leave , '
fo
their outdoor fun was cut short by a foA
A
persistent rain. How it did pour !
Hour after hour , all day and night. p
Friday morning dawned upon sweeping .
sheets of gray , and an angry , boiling
flood that crept , inch by incb up its
yellow banks , and night closed in on
the same picture. Saturday morning
the sun shone out bright and clear , but ;
on what a scene of destruction. What
,
had been a river was a rushing sea.
which had blotted out field after field ,
and stopped just at their own gate , and f
which carried on its heaving surface )
trees torn up bodily , great timbers ,
buildings and cattle. Toward night a
large barn came floating down , and
;
:
formed all manner of wreckage. The
bo3rs watched eagerly , speculating on
the amount of firewood thus laid at re
their door. rem
"Hi ! * That's a good one , " cried one m
of them as just at dusk something like
log appeared round the corner of the
barn , balanced a moment , as though
undecided , and then swept round into
the little harbor. But it was getting to
too dark to see anything more , so the3' n c
went laughing and scuffling to bed.
All night long mother and children
slept quietl3' in , the little house , lulled
by the rush of swift waters. All night "t
long in the little harbor the log poised th
and turned , now swept away trom the sa ;
shore , now drawn toward it , as though j m
reluctant to go. or
In the morning , with whoop and
shout , the boys burst from the house , fa
but in a moment were back again with
white cheeks and chattering teeth , and
clinging to their mother , could utter W (
but one word "Father. " w :
Yes ! Fate'had again been too strong j ch
for him. Mr. Danks had come home.
They took up the poor body , bruised
and battered , but invested for the first
time in the eyes of those who knew it
"
with dignity"and sis they bore it across
the threshold there fell from the pocket
a string of discolored blue beads.
A little later they knew all there was
to know of the pitiful story. His fel
low-workmen had gathered on the
wharf Saturday afternoon after work
to watcli the freshet. One by one they
scattered to their homes up and down
the river , and a neighbor seeing Mr.
Danks , called to him to come ; but he
shook his head , saying he was not going
home till his work was finished. So
they left him there looking down the
river toward his home. One hour later
the wharf was swept awa3' . No one
knew what had become of the solitaiy
figure save One. And as the poor
bod3' , without volition of its own , was
guided through flood and darkness lo
its home , who can deny that the spirit
too weak to shape its own course
was borne on Infinite pit3r into the eter
nal home ? Saturday Traveller.
Politics on the Bench.
If a judge of the superior court is
mentioned in connection with the gov
ernorship of his state , is it right that
insinuations should be thrown out by
the press that , unless he resigns his
office , he will employ corrupt means to
further his political aspirations ? Is
honorable ambition to succeed by un
derhand methods only ? Now , in cast
ing about for a governor , each section
has its especial pet. This should not
warrant an attack upon some other
good man , who ma3r be mentioned ,
simply because he is an officer , and
without the semblance of a charge to
bring against him , expect that he is apt
to take advantage of his position to
make friends , to the disadvantage of his
less favored opponent.
How are we to judge of the conduct
or talents of another , except through
the positions he is called to nil ? Those
who have given the greatest satisfaction
in the past are the men who went up
step by step , and not those who came
from the shades of seclusion. A judge
of the superior court , or any other
man occupying an ottice of public trust ,
will not risk his good name in question
able measures , in the very sight of
higher honors being ottered b3 * an ad
miring public. Rather will 'they be
more guarded in speech and act , know
ing that every word and actionis sure ,
to meet with the severest criticism. To
resign is a tacit acknowledgment to be
a candidate for a higher ofliee
means trickery , bribery , and corrup
tion generally. To remain in the iield
against such unfounded opposition
shows true courage and manhood. The
newspaper that believes it can injure
the reputation of a good man by adver
tising him as the judge of the superior
court in politics , fall short of its ex
pectations. Already such advertising
has redounded to the good of the can
didates and the mortification of name
less scribes. His case is strengthened ,
for the masses can see nothing in such
light but vindictive persecution.
It is the merest folly to resign an3T
oflice to become a candidate. If a man
pure he will eniplo3' honorable means
tc secure his success. If he is impure
the public knows lo well from past
experience to what low and disgraceful
acts < he will resort to curiy public favor ,
and his asperations are nipped in the
bud. As to selecting between the judge
on the bench and the common poli
tician , who will bu apt to measure his con-
iluct b3 * the rules of propriety , the man
who lias a imputation to uphold , in ac
cordance with the dignity of iiis posi
tion , or the one who feels no restraint
find waits for the incumbent , whom ,
perhaps , death ma3 * have removed , to
bi carried from the presence of his as
sociates , ere he hies himself away to el
bow the powers that be , in his interest
and behalf.
Courtesy , as well as necessity , de
mands that where a judge is disqualified
his own circuit , some one of his as
sociates shall preside. If it is true that
these rounds develop judges into politi
cians ; , then there is not a court of equity
the state. Culhbcrt ( Ga. ) Appeal.
A New Story of Daniel Webster.
On one occasion some Boston friends
sent him as a present an enormous-
sized plow to use on his place. Web
ster gave out word that on a certain
lay it would be christened. The day
'or miles came in to witness the event.
dozen teams with aristocratic occu-
lauts came down from Boston. It was
jxpectcd by every one that Webster
.vould make a great speech on the oc-
jasion , reviewing the history of farm-
ng back to the time when Cincinnatus
ibdicated the most mighty throne in
he world to cultivate turnips and cab
bages in his Roman garden. The plow
vas brought out and ten yokes of splen-
lid oxen hitched in front. More than
JOO people stood around on the tiptoe cv cv
expectation. Soon Webster made v
lis appearance. He had been calling y
ipirits from the vast3r deep , and his a
jait was somewhat uncertain. Seizing \
he plow handles and spreading his ]
cet lie yelled out to the driver in his a
leep bass voice : c
"Are you all ready , Mr. Wright ? " c
"All ready , Mr. Webster , " was the
eply , meaning of course for the speech. ' n
Webster straightened himself up by a [
nighty effort and shouted : I r
"Then let her rip ! " i e
The whole crowd dropped to the n
rrouud and roared with laughter , while v
iVebster with his big plow proceeded n
rip up the soil. Belfast ( Jfc. ) Jour- "
lal.
c
l <
The Price Cuts Some Figure.
"Here , " , said a Chicago wholesaler ,
'this Omaha man declines to receive
hat last bill of goods you sold him. He
ays he got figures from a St. Louis
nan and you offered to duplicate the o
rder. " e
"Well , I did. Ain't the goods satis- !
actory ? " j o
"Yes , but he objects to the pries. " "
"The price ! Well , I didn't say "i P
vould duplicate the price ; I thought he
vas kicking about the goods. " Mer- "
hant Traveler. \ '
JHI
A FAMOUS SELLER OF BOOKS.
Interesting SUctcli of Henry Stevens ,
the London Boole-Dealer.
"What is your business , Mr. Ste
vens ? "
"I am a seller of books. "
"Ah , a bookseller. "
"No ; a seller of books. "
This dialogue , writes a London .cor
respondent to The Neio York Tribune ,
which took place in court between the
late Henry Stevens , of Vermont , and a
cross-examining counsel , is character
istic enough of the man. He was a
seller of books , but he did not choose to
be confounded with the generality of
booksellers , to whom books are mer
chandise and nothing more. He was ,
in his own department , one of the most
learned and accurate bibliographers
who ever lived. He had no superior ,
and no equal in London. People who
knew him not may casil3r have been
misled as to his real abil'ty by the
whimsicalities in which he delighted to
indulge. On the title-page of the most
serious , and certainly the biggest , vol
ume he ever published the "Catalogue
of the American Books in the Library
of the British Museum" he describes
himself as "Henry Stevens , G. M. B. ,
M. A. , F. S. A. , etc. " The student of
the British museum or elsewhere might
puzzle long over these initials before he
discovered that G. M. B. stands for
Green mountain 1)03He clung to his
birthplace and old home with affection
ate teuacit3 % and habitually signed him
self , in print as well as in private , Hemy
Stevens , of Vermont. That is the name
he put to the delightful little volume
"Who Our New "
Spoils English Books ?
the least , I think , of his publications ;
and he adds to it "Bibliographer and
Lover of Books. " Then follows a list
of antiquarian and historical societies in
both worlds of which he was member ;
then , without visible transition or so
much as a comma , "Blackballed Athen
aeum club of London also patriaich of
Skull and Bones of Yale . . . B.
A. and A. M. of Yale college as well as
citizen of Noviomagns et castera. "
Noviomagus , after some reflection , 1
take to be , Croydon or some place near
Croydon , in England , or perhaps
Surbiton , and not one of the many other
better known places to which that name
earlier days. There is ,
however , a club of antiquaries called
the Noviomagians , to which Stevens
belonged.
Henry Stevens came fo London in
1845 , and soon , as he 1m * often said ,
"drifted" into the British i.mseum. He
retained his connection iiiere as agent
for the buying of books Mil the lost ;
none of his financial misfortunes ter-
minatcd it. Panizza , who then ruled
the museum in a sense far other than
that in which Mr. Bond now docs , was
his stanch , friend. He understood Ste
vens' value , and he made use of his ser
vices in a way for which an American
can never quite forgive either of the
pair. Mr. Bond writes the notice of j
Stevens in The Alhcnccum , and sa3's
with a touch of pardonable exultation
that as the result of Stevens' efforts the
British museum now contains a more
extensive library of American books
than any single library in the United
States. No doubt it d'oes , and the fact
is a reproach , not to Stevens , but to
Americans in general and to the con
gress of the United States in particular.
Henry Stevens , an American to the
backbone , would have rejoiced to do for
his own country what he did for Eng
land. But England employed him to
ilo it and America did not , and it is too \
late to repair the blunder. No collec-
tion of American book equal to that y h
in the British Museum can ever ajrain
be got together. The time is past. y
Stevens' catalogue of th ; < ; . completed x
in 1857. is a volumeof GOO b\o pages ,
and includes 20,000 volumes. When b
he began collecting for the museum , in tc
1845 , the whole mimbi-r did not exceed
1.000. The other 1G.OOO are due to A
him. One of his reasons for printing
w
the catalogue was to show , side by side ,
as lie says , both the richness and the
is
poverty of the collection. He effected ism
his object , and between 1857 and 18G2 m .
the number doubled. That is to sa3 %
in 1862 the American department in
the British museum possessed 40,000
volumes ; counting onl3' books printed
in America , and not counting books ,
maps , etc. , in all languages relating to
America , in which the museum is very
rich , nor counting American books re
printed in this countn.
And I suppose for much of what we
actually have in Amer ca concerning
our own country we have to thank
Henry Stevens. He wathe agent of
maii3American collectors , often with
authorit3-to buy on his own judgment H
His best known general client
was per di
haps Mr. James Lencx , whose library ,
now one of the chief treasures and or lo
naments of New York , was" formed by lo
Henry Stevens. No man knew so much hi
about early editions of the bible ; no one hiPi
perhaps so much about early voyages Pi
and travels. These , with the Ameri
cana , were fhe subjects to which Ste in
vens devoted himself , ami on which he It [
will ever remain an authority. Caxton pc
was another topic which interested him , bi
and he did much for the Caxton exhibi ar
tion at South Kensington in 1877 , cata arm
loguing ( the bibles then shown. He had tr
wide and always an exact knowledge , sii
not merely of books , but of subjects. he
Some of this he has put into print or sii ;
read before literary societies , but the th :
mass of it dies with him. He is a real ex
loss , to letters , as well as to bibliog th ;
raphy. The English papers abound in thTl
eulogies on him. I hope the American ar
papers do as much , for he was a man is
who held high abroad the American th :
name. "Esteemed , " says The Times. sti
"for his knowledge , ability , and shrewd stiTl
common sense , he was even more be Tl
loved for his frank manliness , his kindly ar
nature , and rich , genial humor. " The of
tribute is not too strong.
Just So.
She was putting the child to sleep the
other night when her husband exclaim
ed : dc
"You are the meanest woman I know
of. " St (
"Why , what do you mean ? " she re
plied in astonishment.
"I mean , " he answered with a mean th
ing glance , "that 3011 have just yo
iotted the babv. " Boston BU&QCI. nil
A Crucial Test. .
Woman is by nature so erratic and
inconsistent a creature that it doesn't
do to bet on her even most marked
characteristics. For illustration : The
other day old Mr. Pungleup , of Nob
Hill , was commenting on the railroad
velocity with which young ladies jab
ber to each other when they meet , with
out either in the least understanding
or replying to what the other sa3's.
"It's just a mean falsehood gotten up
by you good-for-nothing men ! " said the
3'oungest Pungleup girl , indignantly.
"All right , " said her father , benig
nant - ; "we'll try an experiment. I
see 3'our friend Miss Gluckerson , com
ing up the street. Now , I'll wager that
new walking suit you want so much ,
that 3-011 can say 'Roast turkey and
cranberry-sauce' in response to the
half-dozen remarks she makes without
her noticing the fact. "
"I never heard anything so perfccth-
absurd , " replied MissP ; "however ;
1 might as well have that suit it's just
too lovely for anything so I'll just do
it to teach 3-011 a lesson. "
"Mind , now , " said her father , as the
front door-bell rang , "fair play. You
mustn't change your expression in the
least , and 3-011 must repeat the sentence
in your usual voice and manner that
is to sa3in a single breath all run to
gether nsit were. "
Just then Miss Gluckerson was shown
into the parlor , and through the library
door old Mr. P heard Miss G
exclaim , without even the smallest
comma in the whole remark :
"O ! 3-011 lazy thing been here a perfect
age don't look at this hat perfect fright
going to have flowers set back and bow
changed why werrn'tyou at the matinee
Harry was there. "
' Roast turke3' and cranberry sauce , "
rapidly inserted Miss P , accom
panying the words with that peculiar
preliminary and concluding gurgle
with which all women , for some oc
cult reason , invariably adorn their con
versation when desirous of being agree
able.
"Going to Mrs. Bladger's party ? "
"
continued Miss Gltickerson. with "the
serene rattle of a brook over the peb
bles. "Molly Smith is going they tell
me she paints pa's promised me a phas-
ton in the spring saw that hateful Mrs.
Gnibery on the street butt'overskirt
and green niching just fancy. "
"Roast turkey and cranberry "
"O- George"Skidmore's "mother's
dead Ouch ! got a flee in 1113sleeve little
beast just eating me up alive bury her
next Sunday did you get that edging at
Gimp's ? "
"Roast turkey and cran "
'The gii-ls at Clark's are coine : to
graduate next Thursday Jennie Giggles
is going to be square cut with inside
illusion and white kid boots can't 3-011
come around for dinner to-morrow and
stay all "
"Roast "
turkey and
"Night and show Milly your new
basque ? That man with a fight over
coat stared at me yesterday Jim O'Neill
is jjoing east this candy "is frightfully
stale. "
Roost turkey " '
"Ma thinks Mrs. Brown ain't proper
those ferns are just too Iovel3r look at
these cuffs clean
this morning are my
crimps coming out yours ain't Lillfc
Skippen sa3"s 3-011 met Charlie Boggs
the other night and said something
nice about me tell me quick ! "
"Roost turk "
\
roast ' turke3George Shelley thinks
3-011 are awful nice. Nov.tell me what
he did say. Good gracious ! what arc
3'ou hugging me for ? "
"And. Tilda , thoughtfully remarked
Miss Punglc.ip , altr the matter had
been explained , and her father admit
ted that he had lol by a scratch , "I be
lieve in 1113' heart tlfat if 3-011 hadn't
thought about Charlie just then 1
shouldn't have had am * new suit this ,1
" " u
winter.
All of which goes to show that there a
at least one subject upon which one mSI
may hope to secure the temporan * at SI
tention of the inscrutable female mind. SIfr
San Francisco Post. frb
n
Come to Time , Young ilan. V
if
Xevcr wedding , ever wooing ,
Still a love-lorn heart pursuing , ,
Read you not the wrong you're doing , |
In my cheek's pale hue ? j1
All my life with sorrow strewing ; "
Weil or cease to woo. " ei
CamnbdL
t :
The Lost City of Norembega. w
I recently visited the spot which Prof lrhi
Hereford , of Cambridge , has recentlj hi cr.
discovered to have been the site of tht hi
lost French city of Norembega. This
lost cit3' has alwa3rs been supposed to IKot
iiave been situated on the Penobscot , in ot
Maine , until these recent discoveries. tire
Prof. Hereford declares it to have been re
a
the town of Weston , in this state , tl
is just over the Waltham line , is a tlbt
peninsula , bounded on one side by Stony btP'
Drook. a stream about fifteen feet wide , 01w
ind Charles river. All that remains to w
nark the site of Norembega are the st
Tenches , which probably were just out thm :
side the stockade. These trendies , m
lowever , are clearly defined , and con *
ist of one which follows the bounds of
he peninsula and a shorter one which it
jxtends about the little hill on which iic
he inclosure was probably situated th
Ehe trenches are three or four feet deep lier
ind five or six feet wide. The outer one ire
walled with stone. An evidence that StJ
hese trenches are cf a very old con
traction is seen in the trees which have ha
jrown up in them , displacing the stones , Ie
these trees are oak , which you know na
ire of very slow growth , and are some fn
them over two feet in diameter. , UE
tioslon Traveller.
tr
Well Applied.
Wife "What is a chestnut , mv fei
tear ? " feiH (
Husband "A chestnut , love , is a :
itor3' that has been told over and over ac
igain. Why ? " aJ L
Wife "NothingOnly it's funny pe
hat : 3'ou should bring a chestnut with , wi
on every time 3-011 come home late at
liofht. " Lcwr.l't Citizen. he
he .
BIG PAY FOR AUTHORS.
Gen. Orient PnUl nt tlio Knto of § 25O
a Tjine for Ills Memoirs.
A Briiish periodical has announced
that the editor of a high-class journal ?
for boy.s in America offered Mr. Glad- *
stone . & > 00 for an article of fifteen
thousand words , this being at the rate
of abou $4 per line , and that Mr. Glad-
stoncihad declined the ofler. Man } *
publfliurs in this city , when shown the
, said that the3 were not at all ,
d that Mr. Gladstone should ( [
used to write for such a sum.
ng as he docs the high position
minister in England , the price
emed to be ridiculously low.
itage of Mr. Gladstone's name
jbutor to the journal would
.worth the money ottered
; lid not write a line. Some
ishers said that , looking
> ast , it is really surprising
large amounts of 11101103flt ;
haveTeen paid to writers for desirable "
articles. Harper's Magazine and The
Nineteenth Century have often paid i
more than $10 per line for suitable
writings popular authors. It is not
an unusual thing to pay $100 for a son
net of only fourteen lines , a price nearly
double that per line offered to the chief
ptate officer of the British crown. More
than $8 per line has been paid by the
owners of magazines for serial stories
running a period of perhaps an entires
year , if found readable , or possessing
merit , or written by a person whose
name would give it popularity. Espe
cially is this the case in the matter of
books written for a special object or
connected with the history of the coun
'
try. An instance may be'cited in refer-
ence to the recent work published as
Gen. Grant's Memoirs. This embraces
two volumes , and has also , even at this
early stage of the publication , given to
the general's widow a sum equalto , if it
does not exceed , $20 per line , and may
net her a much larger amount. Miss
Cleveland's book is also spoken of as
one which will realize to her a propor
tionate amount of money as royalties
far exceeding that offered Mr. Gladstone
for the article alluded to in the news
paper extract. During the early da3"s
of The. New York Ledger Mr. Robert
Bonner was noted for givinglarge sums
of money to authors whose liames were
considered of more value than the
amount of printed matter which was
the result of their pens. Many of the
writers to whom lie paid what might
appear to be almost fabulous sums ,
were then not so well known by name
as Mr. Gladstone is to-day ; but they
were prominent enough for Mr. Bonner
to desire that they should be recognized
as contributors to his periodical. On
one acca 5on he paid to Mr. Tennyson ,
now poet laureate of England , the large
sum of'$5,000 for a poem which only
made twenty lines in that paper. This
was at the rate of $250 a line a price
that would almost seem to be beyond
the yalue of any written production.
Gulvcslon ATeics.
Fortune's Joys.
Alas ! the joys that fortune brings
Are trifling , and decay ,
And those u ho prize trilling things
.More trilling still than they.Goldsmith. l\
Goldsmith.
Bill Nye on Somnambulism.
A recent article in the London Post ,
on the subject of Somnambulism , calls J-
to 1113mind a little incident with som
nambulistic tendencies in my own exfc ,
perience.
On the banks of Bitter Creek , some
3'ears ago , lived an open mouthed man
who had risen from affluence by his un
aided effort , until he was entirely free
from any encumbrance in the way ol
property. His mind dwelt on this mat
ter a great deal during the day. j
Thoughts of manual labor flitted
through his mind , but were cast aside ;
as : impracticable. Then other means of
acquiring property suggested them
selves These thoughts were photo
graphed on the delicate negative of the
brain , where it is a rule to preserve all
negatives. At night these thoughts
were ! reserved within the think-reJort ,
I may be allowed that term , and
muscular action resulted. Yielding at
last to the great desire for possessions
and : property , the somnambulist groped
his way to the corral of a total strang
er , and selecting a choice mule with
great , dewy eyes and real camel's-hair
tail , he fled. On and on he pressed , to
wards the dark , uncertain West , till at "f
last rosy morn clomb the low , outlying
hills and gilded the gray outlines of the
sagebrush. The coyote slunk back to
his home , but the somnambulist did not.
He awoke as day dawned , and when
he found himself astride themnleof an
other , a slight shudder passed the en
tire length of his frame. He then fully
realized that he had made his debut as
somnambulist. He seemed to think
that he who starts out to be a somnam
bulist should never turn back. So he
pressed ' on , while the red sun stepped j
aut into the auful quiet of the dusty < I
ivaste and gradually moved up into the ( }
sky , and slowly added another day to ) > / j
hose already filed away in the dark " 1
oiaw of ages. > {
* * * * *
„ j
Night came again at last , and with I '
other somnambulists similar to the (
irst , only that thev were ridinoon '
heir own beasts. Some somnarabu- I
ists ride their own animals , while oth- \ <
are content to bestride the steeds si / '
itrangers. j |
The man on the anonymous mulfe J
lalted at the mouth of a deep canon
did so at the
request of other som-
lambulists. Mechanically he got down
rom the back of the mule and stood '
mder a stunted pine. '
After awhile he began to ascend the . .
ree < by means of his neck. When he y '
iad reached the lower branch of the
ree , he made a few gestures with hi =
eet by a lateral movement of the le < * s.
made several ineffectual efforts ° tc
ick some pieces one of the horizon ,
ind then , after he had gentlv oscillated
few times , he assumed a pendant and
lerpendicular position at ri"-ht ano-les
nth the limb of the tree. ° °
The other somnambulists then took
mule safely back to his corral , and '
tragedy of a nijrht was over. -A