A Romancejn Real Life.
B.r Jnmwi 01 i»
Rotiert Myron was the son of nn
English tenant-farmer, who in the
year 1848 found his family expenses
increasing so much faster than his
income that it was absolutely nec
essary to decrease the former, since
the hitter could not Is* made longer.
In the hope of being able to assist
his father in some way, Robert come
to this country, and, failing to find
employment near the metropolis,
walked from town to town until when
near Rochester, New York, he was
hired ns a farm luhorcr by Judge
James E. Berry. During six years
young Myron worked Industriously,
sending nearly all of his earnings to
his parents, and then came the sad
news that both father and mother
had died on the same day. After re
covering from this shock it was but
natural the young mun should begin
to think of establishing a home for
himself, and quite as natural that
his love should go out to the daugh
ter of his employer, who plainly
showed her preference for the young
man w ho had so devoted himself to
his parents. But Judge Berry, while
he recognized in Myron an invaluable
farm laborer, bad not t he same views
regarding him as a son-in-law that
Miss Bessie bad. and the consequence
was thut. the lovers, finding it impos
sible to change t lie fill her's opinion,
resolved to dope, nnd build up for I
them selves a home in the iar West.
^ In 1885, with imt a few hundred |
dollars und tiie judge's eurse, tiie '
young couple were married und set-'
tied at Green Luke, Michigan, where, \
at tiie beginning of the year 18(12,
they were in reasonably prosperous
circumstances, with two'children to
make glial their humble log cabin.
Their farm was situated several miles
from any settlement, and although
the Indians wen.* rising against the
whites in many portions of fheHtate, j
neither Mr. nor Mrs. Myron felt any
uneasiness, ls*cause they lielieved
they had succeeded in establishing
tiie most friendly relations with such
of the “forest children” as they came
in contact wit It. Therefore 1 hey were
by no means alarmed when one day j
five Indians stalked gravely into the
cabin, just ns the noonday meal was
served. It had ever is-cii Mr. Myron's
custom to invite such visitors to par
take of food, and on this, a son other
occasions, they readily accepted the
invitution; but greatly to the sur
prise and uneasiness of their host, in
stead of placing their rifles in one cor
ner of the room, as usual, they held
them lietweeu their knees, the muzzles
of the weapons showing just above
the edge of the tn ble.
Mr. .Myron was too well versed in
Indian customs not to know that
such action on the part of his guests
meant mischief. With the view of
showing them that lie understood
the meaning of this breach of hos
pitality, and in tiie slight hope of in
timidating them, he arose from the
table, took from the rack on the wall
his rifle and fowling piece, and care
fully examined them to show they
were loaded. Why the savages did
not attack him then is one of the in
explicable things in Indian warfare.
Instead of making any hostile'
demonstrations, they stalked gravely i
out of tiie house, disappearing l>e- j
hind a clump ot bushes.
For the moment Myron believed he
laid wronged his guests and tiiat
they iiud taken umbrage ut his
movements when their intentions
were iicnceiiil Still liolilimr liiu iti.- ,
iu his hand Mvrcn stepped to tile
o|m»ii door for the purpose of ascer
taining whether his guests hud really
departed. When t he farmer appeared
on tin* threshold the report of a rifle
was heard, and Myron fell, with a
dangerous hut not necessarily fatal
wound iu his side.
Women who live on flu* border,
where they ure constantly menaced
by danger, learn early in lift that they
must deny themselves woman's privi
lege of fainting. When Mr. Myron
fell, his wife sprang to his defense |
y rather than assist a me. Tocloeeaud
barricade windows uml doors was j
but the work <>f a moment when* j
every thing was prepared for j
such occasions, and then the j
heroic woman turned her at- |
tent ion to lu*r husband end children, j
The father’s wound bled but little, i
ami save to stanch the blood, the «le- 1
voted wiA* could not uid lam, except
by piling the issldtiig around him ill |
such u way that, ill a silling nostaiv. ■
he could face the closed door. The
temporary safety of the child re u was
am ured by fastening tlieai iu tie- c«b .
lar, Imre they would l«e beyond the ;
rent1 of ant bullets their late visitors
might semi, and after aim hud |»*r- j
Its ted their pi ill of del* me aim Ucg.tli
to assume lee offensive
by removing the mud that Bib**!
I he It*-v l< IW of the log* ill the end of
tin* house loop holes were toe mot
ami throng.* tlies# tIn* hit#i*nml ami 1
Wlh> lefiiH all assault tl|sia t hi-lr ftscs j
tt Hit Ills rtlf M VWill steal on* of the I
I ml in u* andut tin* sunt* time hi* mh 1
h la alt* . I toitli IK# ft»*|ii*jj }tt**«* .
H) ibi* Hat# the for, Rmbng I in if in {
t* ii-la**l intuits more tenacious of It As
tll»lII th ft had *U|a}a**gi|, fiMartni to -
strutagem to <t«co epliatt the masna i
a re la tier t ••1*1 was a curt half Riled
with hat, la the stable yard sltsmi a !
vote ul oksti uusliy eating To
IwlHI the animats to tbs mM ami i
not Mpwr liMswitis to the deadly j
mat t*l those la the house was wmM- ,
plishod. To get the load of hay
against the building, that it might
is* set on fire, whs still more difficult,
and in this case unsuecessfal, for be
fore it could Is* done both husband
and wife had shot an enemy, while
the fifth and only remaining one
sought safety in precipitate Might.
Knch moment the < onflict lasted
the liushand grew weaker, and medi
cal aid could not be procured with
out a journey of 180 miles. To
traverse this distance there wus no
other conveyance than the oxcart.
In this rude vehicle Mrs. Myron
placed her liushand and child
dren, and not once during
that tedious journey, made painful
by the suffering of the man forwhom
she had braved the dangers anil dis
comforts of n frontier life, was a halt
made.
At St. Cloud surgical aid was pro
cured, am) there, alter Mr. Myron's
recovery, ho sought work of any
kind that would bring in sufficient
for the support of his family, since
the depredations of the Indians had
impoverished him. it was only by i
the greatest exertions that Mr. My
ron could keep his family from actual
want; and hearing that laborers were
in greater demand at Cape (lirndenu,
la*, with his wife and children, em
barked on the steamer Tidal Wave
for that place, alter having remained
lit Kt. Cloud nearly a year.
The voyage was never completed,
however, for when Tower drove, Mis
souri, was reached, a tiro broke out
on the ill-fated steamer, and in a
very short time she was burned to
the water's edge. The loss of life was
riJIlHHIlfrlMJI*'. Him HHIUII^ uir lllinniil^
ones were I lie two Myron children.
For the second t ime Kobcrt Myron
was homeless and jwimil«*ss, with ins
sufferings intensified b,y the loss of Ids
children. I'erliups it was fortunate
for him that lie was obliged to work
very laird simply to keep the wolf
from the door, for it prevented him
from brooding over ids misfortunes,
ns even a stronger man might have
done.
During the two years that elapsed
after the burning of the Tide
Wave, Robert Mryon labored
industriously, but without success,
so far as the accumulation of world
ly goods was concerned; lie laid Ireen
able to pay the rent of a rude cabin
three miles from the village of Tower
Hill, and to furnish it scantily. Hut
tiie expenses at tendril t upon the
birth of two children, and ids own
sevem illness, during which he was
confined to Ids bed two months, hail
exhausted the small fund lie laid suc
ceeded in saving to enable him to
remove to ('ape (Jirardenu.
Then came a time when lie could
no longer find employment iipar Ids
wretched home, and lie sought, it
some miles up the river, going and
returning curli day in a small boat.
Even when it appeared that mis
fortunes was not wearied witli pur
suing him, for one night when re
turning from his work, a stormcume
up, which overturned his frail skiff,
and, nearly exhausted, he was thrown
upon a narrow lair of sand that
made out from a bank of the river
at the spot where the Tidal Wave
wns burned. On this frail and
treui herons foothold he managed to
remain during the night, in full sight
oft lie town, hut unable ro attract
attention to ids desperate condition.
The dawn of day revealed still more
horrors, for close beside him, having
evidently been unearthed by the
waves, was a skeleton of a human
being. At first Myron felt that tear
which seems to Is* natural in man
w hen he sees the deserted tenement of
one of his kind; but the resting-place
which the waves gave to the living
and the dead was so small that he
was obliged to remain almost in ac
tual contact, with t he yellow bones.
As he sat by the skeleton waiting for
help from t he shore, which seemed so
tardy in craning, lie saw about tin*
ribs of the Hesliless frame a leather
belt. Curiosity overcame his terror,
ami, unfastening the belt, lie found
wit hill it gold coin to the amount of
$5,000.
That Kobert Myron was in a fever
e •. ..i. ■ it_ i . i .. i a li
Ml TAI II' llll’lll Mill MM III ' 'I" in »M|I|,
Hi* had struggled to tin* full strength
ot limn innuy years, mid was liarill.v
more than u pmi|H-r when lie should
have IiiiiI at least a spot of (aid's
footstool he eould eall his own. The
dead had brought him what t he living
had refused. To take the gold lot
his own purposes seemed a theft, and
vet lie who iiad fastened it uhotlt Ids
body could no longer use it. The
struggle lift wren Ids conscience
and Ids ue essity was a long one; Imt
when those who eaine to rescue him
arrived at the sand liar they toiiud
him witli a skeleton on which nothing [
could U* sr.’n. ami no one roald have
fancied that the hiilf-drowui*d man i
hml found a t reus a re, That the hones
Were those ot Olle ol the passenger*ot
tile Tidal ttim*, no olle doubted,and
they were given a re»titig-pirns*'
among Ih<* nameless graves of thus*' J
who bud lust tladr live* in the dlsas i
ter, No one save Ibds rt Mvroa ami [
hk« wife knew of the luom-v-i* It, or
that vat the llistde of it, rill deep III
the thl>k hat lief, Was the name
• Usury INirks."
Hut M vroit, having this money, did '
ttol datv to use it openly l« »t |s»ude j
should ipu*stioll how le> gol it tic
hud agreed with his wilt that they j
should use the 41 dd for their own ,
ttt, hut do it with tin* Mew • I r*» !
I 'truing it if they should pot Mud the !
•bad maw s lietr*. This he hoped to i
do hv Making sin h linwiusiit* ns j
i mild • *» Ivaiddt r> lliK'al Up*Ml, so ;
i hat they Might show tlteinwlva* t«i |
la glMsi even if Seif rim list steward* I
fw tabu* they Iasi in, ami ihr
tv t acre* of tend surrounding it, »ia|
fur Ntlr at n pri*** Isdow Its 1***1 nil I
ue llyr**u r* pr» »* t*|#d to lh» uo*i
that, k»pltv appeal .He* *. M> had
succeeded in saving a small nmonnt
of money—altout half tin* price asked
—and offered to buy It if hi* note
would be aecepled lor the bulnn* e.
Tlx* bargain win* made, and Myron
still continued to work by the day
for uny one who would hire him, till
ing his own farm when he could find l
no other work. Then he invi**t*d in
a very small way in stock, buying
when he could get decided bargains
only. Year by vear he added to hit*
possessions, and his neighbors called
liim a “thrifty” man.
All his investments weregood ones,
since none were made save with the
view of converting everything into
cash at. a moment’s notice if neces
sary, and Robert Myron became a
wealthy man. As is usual, with
weulth came the respect of his neigh
bors, who,to showttielr appreciation
of money, elected him to the office of
county judge.
During the year 1870 the inhabit
ants of Tower Hill witnessed the de
struction of another steamer by fire
at almost the exact place where the
Tidal Wave went down. Aiming
those men who labored t o save life
none was more active than Robert
Myron, and bis house wus con vert ec,
into a hospital for the reception of
those who were injured, but suved
from dcat h.
Mrs. Myron was ns earnest in her
efforts to'comfort the distress' ll peo
ple as was her husband, ami her la
bor was signally rewarded by llmling
among tliu unfortunate ones whom
she was nursing her father, whom she
site had not heard from since the day
ulio Is-ft hits ll/lfltf* tfl fflllMlI II tlf it I Wt*
with the limn she loved above all oth
er*. The daughter* heart wa* made
*till more glad when the old gentle
man told her and her husband that
he had been searching for them
several mouth* in the hope of induc
ing them to return to hi* lonely
home, or allow him to remain with
them.
Then lie told a *t range story, and
one which lifted a load that had
grown heavier with each succeeding
year from his son-in-law* heart.
In 1861, Mr*. Myron's aunt lmd
died, tieqacating to her niece the sum
of five thoijMund dollars. Judge
Berry, half relenting 1 hut he had not
looked with favor upon hi* daughter's
marriage, had sent hi* clerk to curry
to her this legacy. The messenger
had written to hi* employer from
St. Cloud in 1H02, stating that he
had traced Mr. and Mr*. Myron to
that place, but from there they had
gone, as he had reason to believe, to
Cape (iirardeau, which place lie was
about to start for in the steamer
Tidale Wave. From that time Mr.
Berry laid never heard from hi*clerk,
and lie believed lie lmd lo*t hi* life
when the wteumer wa* burned.
A* tiie old gentleman finished hi*
story, the hu*biind and wife gazed
at each other with un almost despair
ing hope in their eyes, arid itwo* only
with the greatest difficulty Judge
Myron couhl u*k the question, “What
was the man s numo
“Henry Parker.”
The load wa* lifted forevermore;
the money which they lielieved wa*
a not her'* belonged rightfully to them;
the investments made with a view to
lieing able to restore the principal at
any time insured their own prosper
ity, and by purloining their own from
the dead they laid honestly relieved
themselves from the thruldom of
poverty.
--- -
Yellow Fever Experience*.
From the New York Commercial Traveler.
“How is the fever usually treated?”
It isn’t generally treuted in any par
ticular way. Every time it breaks
out the doctor* have to experiment,
under guidance offormer exjierienees,
of course, until they find out what
treatment is best, for what answers
well in one outbreak frequently won't
answer at all well in another. Some
times, as iu Savannah the last time
the fever was there. ill'V ouiliijieon the
tongue seems to answer best. Some
times oilier means are move effective.
The eham{ingne 1 rent inent is perhtt|M
more generally effective than any
other, hut there is scarcely enough ot
that costly medicine at romiiiuiul to
supply t he need in an epidemic. The
late l>r. tlnliricl IliciMtvay Ayres, ol
It rook li a, once told me that on one
occasion lie mis in u British West In
dia town when the fever was present
there. He mis traveling with a
friend and the two remained n week
on the island. t>ii« evening they
dined with a physician there, and
text mottling learned that he hint
died during the night with the fever.
"I thought it time for men who had ,
imi business there to get away," said j
Hr. Ayres, "and we took slap tl •
next day lar Havana In the night '
lay friend was seised with the fever, j
and I irented lain with champagne j1
without »aylug anything nlmlll It toh
alarm tie* |M»imni. W hen be tin .
out id danger 1 tolil the i apiatmwho |
II* lilKi’ mill Very impl-sslvelv Sll<l I
'If yon let attyisslv iu Havana know j i
that you poured champagne into aji
man with vello* lever they il habg ij
yon?' " Tlie die tor inferic.lth.il list! I
i laiiu|mgne lteallaetlt. though || hi | i
vortte oas with I ritish physician*J i
sim ill that lime unknown among, i
lie* n pa null I urtousiy . uotigh 111
Is lievs any other form id ahwilodi j I
■ iiuialatioa in yellow lever kills with;
»om. thing of tlm precision id a Item- j i
in, t on nfe, ami. of i.iiirw men w Ivo* i
are Imtddrmk.rs are dooneri tf tie*, i
irtee get veitow fever. I’or that an.I-11
lerxmhiii.il Mire doomed wbr .ever j I
ihiv get allv 11rufeat disease a id j '
upon is th< iion I may say limy so. t I
hsiwnl anyhow. | |
Tale of the Selfish Giant.
Every afternoon, ax they wen-coni
ng from xehool, the children
ixed to go und play in the (iiant'o
garden.
One day the (liant come hack. He
tmd tieeii to vixit hix friend the Cor
nixh ogre, and Imd xtn.ved with him
For xeven yearx. When he arrived he
inw the children playing in the gor
jen.
“What are you doing there?” he
cried in u very gruff voice, and the
children ran away.
“My own garden ix my own gar
den,” Maid the (liant; “anyone can
underxtnnd that, and I will allow no
body to play in it but myxelf.” Ho he
built a high wall all around it and
put up a notice board;
“Trexpaxxerx will be proxecuted.”
Hr wax a very xelfixh (liant.
The poor rbildreii Imd nowhere (o
piny. They tried to play on the
road, but, the road wax very duxty
and full of hard xtonex, and they did
not like it. Then the xpring came,
ami nil over the country there were
little bloxxomx und little hirdx. Only
in the garden of t 1m* Giant it
wax xtill winter. The hirdx did not
cure to xing in it ax there were no
children, and the trecx forgot toblox
hoiii. Once a beautiful flower
put itx bead out from the graxx,
but when it eaw tin* notice
board it, wax xo xorry for the
< iiuuren imu il miif>|»»•<i duck iiiio i no
ground lignin, and went off' to sleep.
Tlie only people who were pleased
were the Know nnd t lie Frost, “Spring
has forgotten this garden,” they
cried, “so we will live here all the
year round.” The Snow covered up
the grass with her great white cloak,
nnd the Frost painted all the trees
silver. Then they invited the North
Wind to stay with them, and became,
lie was wrapped in furs, and hi* roar
ed all day about the garden, and
blew the chimney-tope down.
“I,can not understand why the
Spring is so late in coining,” said
the Selfish tfiunt, as he sat at the
window and looked out at his cold
white garden: “I hope there will be a
change in the weather.”
Hut the Spring never came, nor the
Summer. The Autumn gave golden
fruit to every garden, but thetiiant’s
garden she gave none, “He is too
selfish,” she said. So it was always
Winter t here, and the North Wind,
and the Hail, and the Frost, and the
Snow danced about through the trees.
One morning the Giant was lying
awake in t*>d when lie heard some
lovely music. It sounded so sweet
to las ear that he thought it must
Isi the King's musicians passing by.
It was really only a little linnet sing
ing outride his window, but it was so
long since he had heard a bird sing
in his garden that it seemed to him
to Is* the most beautiful music in tin*
world. Then the Hail stopped dimm
ing over his head, and the North
Wind ceased roaring, and a delicious
perfume came to him through the
open caseinate. “I believe the Spring
has come ut last,” said the Giant;
and he jumped out of bed and looked
out.
What did he si**?
He saw a most wonderful sight.
Through a little hole in the wall the
children had crept in, and they were
sitting in the branches of the trees.
In every tree that lie could see there
was a little child. And the trees were
ho glad to have the children back
again that they had covered them
selves with blossoms, and were wav
ing their arms gently above tin* chil
dren's heads. The birds were flying
about twittering with delight, ami
the flowers were looking up through
the green grass and laughing. It was
a lovely scene, only in one corner it
was still winter. It was the farthest
corner of the garden, ami in it was
standing a little boy. Hu was so
small that lie could not reach up to
the branches of the tree, and he was
.......i....:.... ..ii .i i.i4,....
..• ..*» ' •.»•
l.v. The poor tree whs si ill quite cov
ered with frost ami snow, ami the
North Wind was blowing ami roar
ing above it. "Climb up! little hov,”
said the Tree,ami it U*al itshruurnes
down as low as it could; bat the boy
was too tinv.
And the <limit's heart melted as he
looked out. "How selttsh I have
been!” he said; “no'# I know w hy the
tyring would mu come Imre I will
|mt that poor little Isiy on thotop ot
ila-tree, uml then 1 w III kms-k down the
wall, and my garden shall Is- tiicrhil
Iren's playground for ever uml ever."
He was really very sorry for what he
laid done.
Ho Is- crept down stairs MUdo|iened
ihe front door ipate softly, amt w-i-iit
ml into the garden |lui when the.
Iilldivit sow bun they WI-I >so frigtit- I
•in-d that tle-v all ran away and the
iiir«h-n l»s aim- W inter again Only
lie little hoy did not run, fortiis eyt*
sere so full of tears that he did not
'•w tin* tihiiitcoining And tlwtiiaiit
>toh- up ts'himl him ami t-sik him
renily In his hand, amt pul him up .
nto ik* the And th»* tw hr**k» nt
•tee intot-huwiai.aiiil thetards-.line
ind sang on It, uml the little tsiy .
a retched out ht* two itrtns nu t thing
hem around the timut's m»k ami j
ossetl Mm Amt the other ehihfvn,
*heU th-'V s«lW ttu* thllll Was not
ii lost iini longer came running ten k,
Old w itn tinni riiuin lh»* *i*rins "It
• iour garden now, loth* . tul.tr. u ,''
uhl ihr llbiiil, ami he look a gteat
at illat kies keddtittWthe sail Ami
i mu the |»siph wett>going to market
it 111 u h*k they 'omul Itmlilgiit
fillitig wi h the ikililhNi in tin* tno*t
beautiful garden they hud ever seen,
All day long they played, and in
the evening they came to the Giant
to bid him good-bye.
“Hut where in your little compan
ion?” he said; “the boy I put into
the tree.” The Giant loved him the
liest because he had kissed him.
“We don’t know,” answered the
children; “he has gone away.”
“You must tell him to ls> sure and
come here tomorrow,” said the Giant.
Hut the children said they did not
know where he lived, and never seen
him before; and the Giant felt very
sail.
Years went over, and the Giant
grew very old and feeble. He could
not play about any more, so he sat
in a nuge armchair and watched the
children play at their games, and ad
mired his garden. “I have many
Imuutiful flowers,” he said, “but the
children are the most beautiful flow
ers of all.”
One winter morning lie looked out
ot Ids window us lie was dressing, lb'
did not hate the winter now, for he
knew that it was merely the Spring
asleep, uml that the flowers were
resting.
Suddenly he rubbed his eyes in
wonder, uud looked mid looked. It
certainly wun a marvelous sight. In
the tart lierest corner of t he garden
was a tn*ei|iiitecovered with lovely
white blossoms. Its branches were
nil golden, and silver fruit liuug
down from them, and underneath it
stood the little boy he laid loved.
Downstairs ran the Giant in great
joy. and out into the garden. He
nustenod across the grass, and came
near to the child. And when became
tjmi*; utwi* um iuna i«*u nun
anger, urul he said: "Who lint It
dnred to wound theft?” For on the
palms of t lie child's linmls were the
prints of two nails, and the prints ot
t wo nails were on the little feet.
“Who hath dared to wound thee?”
cried the Giant; “tell me. that I may
take my hig sword and slay him.”
“Nay!” answered the child; “hut
these are the wounds of love.”
“Who art thou?” said the Giant,
and a strange awe fell on him, and he
klielt before the little chilli.
And the child smiled on the Giant,
and said to him; "You let me piny
once in your garden, to-day you
shall come with me to my garden,
which is Paradise.”
And when the children ran in that
afternoon they found the Giant lying
dead under tlie tree, all covered with
white blossoms.—Oscar Wilde.
-- ^ -
III s Hull Fix.
One hot day recently, soys the New
York Sun, a young man wearing
side light whiskers, and a long,
crooked nose, betook himself to the
classic sands of Isle de Conie with the
sole intention of taking u plunge in
to the outstrtched arms of old Ful It
er Ocean. Having deposited a 25
cent piece with the man who is not
satisllcd with the earth, but wants
to own tin; ocean, he received a bath
ing suit made of Kentucky jeans.
Tlie suit iiail seen its best days, and
was rapidly becoming bottomless
and very holey.
The long-nosed young man man
aged to hold the suit together until
lie had buried himself in tlie surf.
Then he took a little dive, swam un
der water for a little distance, and
when hie head reached the surface
once more lie found himself sur
rounded by a ls<vy of mermaids. Ho
felt something entangling his feet,
and reaching down he discovered that
—oh, horrors!—that the lower part
of his Huit had dissolved partnership
with the upjier part. Ho was in a
pretty fix. Summoning a friend he
commissioned him to go alter anoth
er suit of Kentucky jeans. While
waiting for the return of the friend
the young man modestly swum out
Iteyond fin* ropes and came near be
ing drowned.
'I'lie friend returned with the new
Hiiit and then began a struggle with
tiie waves that has never before been
equaled. Tlie young limn raised a
leg ia order to incase it in the new
suit. A heavy wave came along and
knocked him over. The spectators
tittered. The girls blushed ami the
action was repeated. At last, after
.... 1....... . f ...... 1 .1. ...!»l. il. .. .
Hint nin e of no Iiwm than twelve |>er
koiih, (he young Mwiinmcr imiimgctl
to get into the uewHuit. The young
lunn wuh very IiiihIiAiI uml coidmlnl
he hud enough of milt water Imthlng.
Olive more he Mtnotl ll|ion tile i liosie
miimIn of the Uluml imvaiilly betting
hilltHell .■,1 rent* t hitt lie'll never bo
i n Ught agu ill iu u unit of honey In
luml Kentucky jemii.
Ablet* Iteml lu I he llurk,
trim lit* I ml.nun mill, Xvt,
" You have lieurri of men with ntt'n
eye*?’ n»kei| hV*l« ml Momhul ||«w
kiiiM,
“Well, I hi* iimu .Jot* 10**11, nliu* K»l
mini*, nlm* llrowu, win* mmrclcnmil
umler the 11, tor eonvirt In*
h*oi u |*mr of ihiit vtirh ty. Tltei mi,V
mini the IVnitiitmrv ituit lie ran
r«***tl in ilie ilwrk uml tluit liixrotoirv
fnirlv lui' in > i» line of lie- gtmrtU
*nhi tint JmIiiiimmi, nlhi* i.ilu.ini ,
nlm* Ih'onit, timM *v * gmirtl
thluMili n hto k null
\ t-nrfcM* 6|, t O le.tletl by the
|tl«>uio|itii|>her i* (but |i>i,|*k« (teller
iffly *l«, not know I Mr o«n tott*™
The buelaiutl *ltJ Hi %'gillie I be With*
Voh e IU M |ihttu,*|lrtj*h, niul the with
mil mitfHilW the lt>*-letml «, but
neither *111 tvttigniae their o**U
•|eu h I hi* iiiit*I U Might,i 11ituit*
to the MON nhlt I'unit* him
••It » Milefj tiWglteil orutlH - I tuj
A Poetical Wife.
T was writing busily one moruing
when n young friend of mine cams in
nnd dropped into a chair, with a
long, deep «izh.
"Tired, Mon?” I inquired absently
—adding, ‘‘There’s the morning pa
per. I’ll be at leisure presently.”
"Oh, dash the morning pilfer!
Tlnsh tlie whole newspuper press!”
I have euphemixed his expletive a
little.
"Why, what’s the matter, Men?”
"Matter? What isn't the matter?
My wife says she’s the coming Co
rinue of America.”
I liegim to feel interested.
"You see, it is in this way. When
your paper came out with herfiratef
fusion, she forthwith wenttothe con
clusion tiiat slie wus inspired, ami
begun pestering the editorial frater
nity of the whole country with her
rythmical rococo.”
“Oli, that's all proper.”
“Mat she didn’t stop there, durn it.
One evening I went home, kissed her.
asked if dinner was waiting, and she
began:
‘“My love, the banquet noon v III In*
Mpii-iwi with the liewt of food for th«e
And our MW waller from the Hamit
Of far-off truiiHuflanlh' load*
"ill help tliiH) to menu title,
Including old Palernian win*.'”
"Must have lss*n exasperating,” I
said, in a condoling tone.
"Exnsperuting? Yes. You hit tha
needle pop on the optic. Ami she
went on in tlie same strain until bed
time, winding up us follows:
" 'My dear, you know full well It shocks
Me through and through wln-ti in your
nock*
I see a hols; I have tlie yarn
This awful oritiosto darn.’
<< A ftc... I I, f.. ..4 f . I
..i Mn>wnvi nn * »Mi,n imil^
tin* house, I heard a voice in the
upstair* hall saying:
•• 'Now, Jnn«, manipulate I,ho broom
Willi illm rouH liiinil in every room.
Intil—'
“I When I went home at half
past twelve that night my wife met
me with a frown and hissed fiercely:
“ 'Out of my Hiffht, thou luitgurd! Out of my
nipilt, 1 miy,
Heck iliee another linLrment till the duwuimr
of the liny;
Here In my healthy broomstick, tliere i* the
open door;
Run, oh recreant bunbnntll iih tlwu never hunt
run before!'
“That nmde me tnnd.”
“Naturally,”
“Yes; so I began:
“ ‘This (k my cast le,tiiadamdinro will I stay.
I vmv,
Till rolietli I he railiant sunbeam* over the
mountain brow;
And, listen, my own compmiion;lf I cannot
stay with then,
I ’ll stop with Jenny, the linun 'maid—’
"Kite said: j
“ ‘Well,we—will—sw*!' ”
“Hid that remedy the defect?”
“Yes, till this morning, when she
began again.”
“How?”
“You sec, my trousers were out of
order.and I begged her to put a little
patch under my coattails. That tired
her off anil she whizzed:
“ ‘Oh. for the rare ami radiant June*
Ere ever I thouxlil oft by pun tul non*’
Ere ever I thought thut tbv lore sa
sweet
W ould deign to ask me to patch theseat
or thy-"’
Just then the door opened; a pink
nnd white vision of beauty appeared
upon the threshold nnd began:
‘‘benjamin, mot her is coming to day,
And—
"If that is thecufle there's the dev it to puy,"
moaned benjamin, and vanished
from my sight.
A Narrow Escape.
A few duys ago a party of ladies
from the Hast were doing Yellow
stone Park, and in the course of
their rambles they strolled in the
vicinity of the crater ol the geyser,
nnd one daring spirit essayed to
penetrate the mysteries of a sf*ot
when* frequent, but truitless efforts
have Iw<en nmde to find the bottom.
She possed in safety along a narrow
ridge which divides a pool of boiling
water, and fleered into the depths ol
the dangerous crater a few feet dis
tant. faithful geyser derives its
name from the fact that every 55
minutes there is a discharge from it*
depths which replenishes the pool
near which the venturesome tourist
stood Premonitory sviaiitoms of
HU eruption nre conveyed by a hiss
ing sound ns of escaping steam, and
tin* day in quiMtion the tourist* had
been freoiiently untitled of tills fuct.
* * * Suddenly there was the
usual sign given by Faithhil geyser
ot its intentions, and thelu.lv tourist,
startled by the sound, shrtelesi uud
fell hnckward into the immiI of hot
water. About ten 1st distant the
miter yawned in frout o; tier, and in
her frantic efforts she was rapidly
drifting toward the Isittonilewn pit.
At this juncture Private Coyle
bravely sprung into tlie boiling
water to t tie rescue of I lie uufortun*
ale victim of her rurnsdly, ami,
ttnuiiudful of the fact that he was
U-ingtindly w aM«sl, nim«| *,J in *uv
atg Hie tourist and himself
An Irate woman entered a dry
gtssla store the other day and *♦*•
cosled one of the iM*i *’| vc t ome
to Pud oHt »I ml yon mean by • harg*
mg tue a dollar Saturday mg til lor
that tatde spread ami selling to*
l > igusoii one aist like it on Monday
for Ipi ient» Indn i yog say ll was
an Iasi t Ham*' to get on*- wi * heap? *
"b>« mtotook me, madam. ' m»
s|Minde«l tint r*-ady riot. • I *mm1 It
Wile lug hist t bale v to get out* l»Mf n
dollar Ami it was, tir we pm th«n
•lowu to HoMl** Mon,lay morning "
— Philadelphia »aU,
